Waking up suddenly in an unfamiliar place was not completely unusual for Din. As a bounty hunter he'd had his fair share of sleeping in local taverns and camping outside. What was unusual this time around was the feeling of safety wrapped around him like the warm embrace of home.

Sitting up he blinked blearily down at the colorful knitted blanket he didn't remember pulling over his body the night before.

"Jate vaar'tur ad'ika." Standing in front of the window Tarre turned to smile down at him. "How was your rest?"

Right.

Everything from the night before came flooding back and he reached up to brush a hand over the back of his neck, a feeling of sudden shyness coming over him.

"Good morning… buir." His cheeks warmed slightly at the gentle warmth and happiness coming from the ghostly figure. "I slept… fine." He didn't remember tossing and turning or any of the usual nightmares that plagued him when he slept in unfamiliar places. It felt as if he'd just closed his eyes and the next thing he knew he was awake again and wasn't tired any more.

"Jate. Get up and wash your face before you put on your helmet. Someone should be coming up soon with your breakfast." Din blinked at her in confusion as he slid out of bed.

"They are?" Tarre chuckled and reached over to run her hand through his hair.

How she was able touch him when she was a ghost wasn't something he wanted to try and figure out before food, so he just leaned slightly into her palm.

"I can sense the pattern of their thoughts from here. The kitchen staff are already awake and making breakfast for everyone." Yawning wide enough his jaw cracked Din shook his head to try and wake up faster, blinking rapidly to clear the blur of sleep from his vision.

Tarre pushed him gently toward the fresher and he went inside to splash water on his face and clean his eyes. Once he was a little more awake he checked over the parts of his armor he had been working on the night before and frowned.

It wasn't like him to leave a job unfinished.

At the very least he was able to slip back into his under suit and don his helmet before someone came to stand outside the room.

Crossing the suite he unlocked the door and opened it a crack. Seeing the same server from the night before he opened the door with a polite incline of his helmet. The young man dropped his hand, poised to knock, and after a small look of surprise he smiled.

"Ah, good morning, jatne vod. I've brought up the usual breakfast. If there's anything else you require, or you have any dietary concerns, please let one of the staff know." Taking the covered tray carefully from the young man he nodded once.

"Vor'e, I'll let them know." Done their duty the young server gave him a short dip of the head and hurried off back down the hall.

Bringing the tray inside he locked the door and took a seat at the table next to Tarre, who was already waiting for him.

Hesitating a moment he reached up and took off his helmet, still not quite able to squash the feelings of guilt, shame, and embarrassment. His newly adopted buir clicked her tongue at him and brushed a hand against his cheek.

"You need a haircut soon, ner ad." Din snorted, pushing the sleep crushed curls away from his forehead.

"My hair was shorter before." He mumbled. Tarre just smiled at him.

"Ah, youth." He gave her an annoyed look as he lifted the lid off the tray to reveal his breakfast.

Instantly he recognized the cooked grains drizzled with syrup and topped with fruit, a dark brown and red powder sprinkled over top. It was a simple meal, common amongst Mandalorians, and yet Din still felt his chest tighten. It had been a long time since he'd had proper cooked neral with uj'ayl.

Picking up a spoonful of the mixture he blew on it gingerly, wary of the steam that was coming from his bowl. As soon as the bite-sized portion touched his tongue he recognized the powder as a mixture of brown sugar and cinnamon. The cloying sweetness of the uj'ayl and the splash of color from the fruit made him hum in pleasure.

"Why don't I start one of your lessons now, ad'ika? A simple explanation of the force." Din looked up from his meal and slowly nodded, still a little apprehensive about all this space magic. "To begin, the force is in and surrounds all living things-"

By the time Din was finished his meal he had new information swimming around his brain. The idea that the force, what he kept thinking of as magic, was literally everywhere was honestly a little frightening.

"The ones the jetiise call Force Null are those who cannot interact with the force, they cannot feel its presence and it is harder for us to detect them. But it is not because they lack the force entirely, because it resides in all living things, but because they are so quiet that the noise of the universe drowns them out. There is too little for our own presence to latch onto and work with." Din frowned slightly.

"Like Vizsla." His buir gave him a curious look and Din flushed slightly when he remembered that she was also a Vizsla. "I meant Paz. He's big but… sneaky."

"Ah, yes. He has a very quiet presence in the force for one so large, and it is not entirely due to the beskar you both wear. The Vizsla clan has declined terribly since my time. Where once my children had access to the force and were proud of this fact, now my descendants try to quell any instance of it. Up to and including abandoning their own children." The righteous anger he could feel bubbling up from the depths of his soul was easily drowned out by the fierceness of her own rage.

But just as suddenly as it appeared it was gone again, her expression smoothed back to one of near-calm.

Din looked at her in surprise. How had she been able to lose her anger so quickly?

His buir smiled at him and leaned over the table. "Feeling anger is acceptable, it is normal for sentients, but letting it control you will only lead to ruin. No one benefits from uncontrolled fury." Din nodded easily in agreement.

"Living in the covert meant you had to keep yourself in check. Disagreements and sparring was okay, but true anger and actual fighting was banned. There aren't enough of us left to let ourselves be divided…" he frowned, "weren't enough of us left."

It was such a strange revelation, to realize that Mandalorians were no longer an endangered group. Just outside the door were hundreds of them, living their lives out in the open.

Never knowing just how far they would fall in the not too distant future.

"Finish your breakfast and the repairs on your armor. We have much to do today." Din grumbled slightly but picked up his spoon.

Who knew that an ancient warrior who once ruled the entire Mandalore sector would be such a mother tooka?

Once he had eaten and finished the last adjustments on his armor he clicked the pieces into place and shrugged his shoulders, moving his arms this way and that to test the feel of them. In the next four or so years Din would be getting a growth spurt. He knew because he'd already lived it. His armor was still built to his body but it had been subtly off in a way that was annoying at best and dangerous at worst. Now that he'd adjusted it all to fit properly he felt a lot better in his iron skin.

"So, what are we doing first ner ad?" Din let out a small sigh.

"Work." He turned to look directly at her and he was certain she could feel his ire even with the helmet hiding his expression. "Someone left me with nothing." Tarre gave him a look that was apologetic but he could tell that she didn't regret what she'd done, only what he was going through now. "I'll have to find something local and save up enough credits for a ship."

"Hm. At least I can help with that." Din tilted his head slightly in confusion.

How was a ghost supposed to be able to get him work?

Tarre chuckled at him, either knowing or guessing what he was feeling. "Another lesson on the force." She said brightly, her grin widening when Din suppressed a groan. "The force guides us to where we are most needed, and it can also aid us when we are in a pinch. You aren't quite ready to let the force guide your actions outside of battle so I will be your guide in its place." Pulling her helmet out of thin air she put it on as Din made his way to the door.

"Aren't you invisible?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"There are some with enough strength in the force to see me. I would rather not take the chance." He supposed that made sense and nodded in understanding. "Remember, Din'ika, outside this room you may not speak to me aloud. But I will hear you if your intent is to speak to me." He stopped a moment.

That was something he hadn't thought about during the sudden upheaval of his life the day prior.

"Can you… read all of my thoughts?" A comforting hand came to rest on his pauldron.

"I can, and I could, but I won't. Your mind is your own, Din. I won't go poking around in it unless I ask permission during one of our lessons. I can only hear what you choose to project to me. If you 'speak' to me I will hear you because it is your intent. Do you understand?" Din stood there for a moment, thinking over her words.

It was a simple concept and he understood the words she had spoken and yet… when he tried to wrap his head around it he couldn't help but feel the beginning of a headache forming.

"Not really." Tarre let out a small sigh and Din flinched, hoping she wasn't too disappointed. "But I trust you. You said you wouldn't read my mind, and I believe you." Tarre was part of his family now, and the only one who knew about the time he came from. They had to learn to live with each other and the first step was trusting her at her word.

"Thank you Din." She said with a clearly cheerful tone despite the helmet making her voice sound far deeper and more mechanical.

Down on the main floor of the inn he stopped at the front desk. The owner looked up from her work and smiled at him. "Jate vaar'tur, how was your sleep? Was breakfast to your liking?" He nodded politely.

"Everything was fine, vor'e." The proprietress looked pleased to hear it.

"So, what can I help you with?" Din took a deep breath and let it out quietly so it wasn't picked up by the external mic.

"Can you tell me where the local Beroya Guild is located?" The woman's brows furrowed slightly with a frown. Oddly it wasn't one of annoyance, more like she was trying to puzzle him out and something wasn't quite adding up.

"I can write down some directions for you." He inclined his head in gratitude.

"Vor'e."

As the woman turned away to quickly write on a piece of flimsy Din twitched when Tarre appeared beside him.

It would take some getting used to, her appearing out of nowhere like that.

"Smart thinking. Even without a ship there are bound to be local bounties you could take." She said, a smile in her voice.

'If I can even afford the entry.' He thought with no small amount of frustration.

Din remembered how lean the first few years had been once he'd left the covert on his own to help support everyone. Even if he was a Mandalorian he'd had to start at the bottom like everyone else. Thankfully he already knew all the tricks to getting an in with the guild after his years of working with them.

He wondered how Karga was doing back in his time and had to quickly shut down the thought, just in case he began to wonder about his other friends and how none of them would have been born yet.

Cara, Vanth, Fennec, Boba, even Paz. The idea that he might never see them again weighed heavily on his mind.

There was a comforting warmth on his arm and he wrangled his feelings back in. Tarre nodded at him in approval before vanishing again.

"Here you are. I took the liberty of adding directions to the bes'goran, supply depot, and the local hospital as well." Taking the folded flimsi Din nodded, grateful for the extra information.

"Vor'e." The woman smiled up at him.

"Kih'parjai, I'm happy to help." With that said she returned to her work.

Knowing a polite dismissal when he saw one Din left the inn and took to the street. Unfolding the flimsi he followed the instructions on the sheet easily and soon found the local bounty hunter's guild.

The building itself was unassuming, looking much like the buildings on either side of it. Normally he wouldn't have been so worried about walking into the Guild, he had been a bounty hunter long enough to know what to expect. But this was a Mandalorian chapter of the guild, on a Mandalorian controlled planet. For all he knew they had different expectations.

"Just breathe, Din." He rolled his eyes at the voice. He might be younger now but he wasn't a child. Even if the thought of someone at his back was reassuring.

Steeling himself he raised his head, lowered his shoulders, and lengthened his stride. He affected a confident yet non-aggressive stance as he pushed open the door and stepped forward.

Coming inside he almost balked at the sudden and oppressive feel of eyes on his body. Even if he couldn't see past the visors of their helmets he knew where they were looking from experience. It was instinct that told him he was being judged on his appearance and yet for some reason it wasn't as harsh as he expected. Many took in the shine of his beskar armor and either ignored him or became even more intrigued by his presence.

Coming inside he walked past the tables of hunters and mercenaries with nary a glance in their direction. Din knew if he wanted anyone to take him seriously in a place like this he had to keep on his toes and be wary.

Just because they were Mandalorians didn't mean he trusted them implicitly. They were not his family, they were not his clan or of his covert. They followed a different set of rules than he did and were used to living in a world where they didn't have to hide every day of their lives for fear of being wiped out.

Stepping up to the bar, because there was always a bar in these places, he waited until the figure behind the counter was finished with the hunter they'd been talking to before him.

"Can I help you?" The figure in armor was a half-zabrak, judging by the horns hidden by their curly hair and the facial tattoos they bore.

It wasn't obvious that they were sizing him up but Din knew it was just the way of things. So he nodded at them in acknowledgment before speaking.

"I'm looking for entry level jobs." The bartender, who was most likely also the guild's information broker, looked him up and down more obviously. Trying to get a rise out of him or make him react. Din just stood there, immovable and unbothered.

"Got a license already or looking to acquire one?" Din shook his head slightly.

"Looking to acquire." There was a harsh laugh behind him and he turned slowly to look at the gray and scarlet armored hunter sitting nearby.

"Come on, kid, how old are you?" They asked as they looked him up and down. "Come back when you've grown into your armor a bit more." He stiffened, eyes narrowing as he stared the hunter down. He could see the others in the room watching intently, gauging his worth by his reactions.

"I've passed my verd'goten and earned my signet." He stated firmly, the mudhorn on his pauldron hard to miss even in the low light of the guild.

"Well, anyone can claim that now can't they?" The hunter stood up, ignoring the low hiss and the grasping hand of their companion. "Where did you get your armor?"

Din bristled. He didn't mean to let the words get to him, he knew it was a test, but what he went through to earn the beskar was still something he looked back upon with guilt and shame. He had been selfish and closed minded. Had almost become dar'manda by ignoring his instincts and thinking of the kid as just another job and not what he truly was- a child in need of protection.

"My helmet was reforged for me after my buir marched on, it was part of his armor. The rest I earned myself." He could feel Tarre's pride in him from wherever she hid when he couldn't see her. All around the room helmets were nodding along with his words, understanding and accepting that what he said was true.

No one in their right mind would wear stolen beskar. Even Jaster, who was currently ten, had known that.

"So you think because you have that armor it makes you beroya material?" Din grit his teeth as the hunter stepped forward and into his personal space.

"I am a beroya, armor or no." Din looked up at the hunter, refusing to be intimidated. He'd fought more intimidating things than a single bounty hunter.

The mudhorn and greater krayt dragon were the first things that came to mind.

The hunter watched him for a moment longer before they let out a chuckle. "Not so easy to scare, are you?" Din gave them a look that could have peeled paint. The hunter seemed to sense it, even through their helmet, and let out another laugh. "Come join us for a drink before they send you out on a job, newbie." Din frowned.

"No." The hunter stopped as the room became tense.

"Don't be like that, newbie. It's tradition." Din shifted on his feet, widening his stance and letting his hand fall closer to his spear.

"Calm down, feel the room. They aren't hostile but competitive. Just explain why." Tarre whispered in his ear. He let out an exasperated huff too low for the external speaker.

"I cannot remove my helmet. It is not the Way."

Rather than calming them down the excitement and interest in the room suddenly spiked, making Din feel even more on edge.

"Hey, you." He turned to look back at the bartender. "If you want a license you need a reference from either another beroya of your clan, a previous employer, or a mentor." They stated simply. "We won't have any jobs for you until then." Letting out a frustrated growl he inclined his head politely.

"Vor'e, I'll be back when I have a reference." At least this was something he had expected when he walked into the guild.

Turning he walked passed the hunter in gray and scarlet armor, keeping one eye on them in case they suddenly lashed out. When nothing happened and he was able to leave without getting into a huge brawl he heaved a sigh of relief.

'Now what?' He asked Tarre as he looked up and down the street.

"We let the force guide us." Came her immediate answer.

'And how do we do that?'

"Like this." He felt something around him, like a low humming that was almost familiar. Beneath his kute his skin prickled and hair rose. It felt like being stared at by a large beast, ready to swallow him whole. "You need to keep calm, ner ad. Breathe through the sensation and understand what it is you are sensing."

Doing as he was told he took a slow, deep, breath and let it out again, closing his eyes and embracing the calm and logical part of himself. When he opened his eyes nothing had physically changed. There were no new sights or sounds, nothing that really indicated where he needed to go. Just a vague feeling, a nagging in the back of his mind that he needed to turn right and start walking.

'Right?' He asked.

Tarre chuckled.. "If that is what you feel, yes. The force is as much an instinct as knowing when a situation is about to get dangerous." He was about to nod in understanding but stopped himself in time.

He didn't want to look insane standing in the middle of a street and talking to himself.

'So I just… start walking?' He felt her affirmation and with a bit of a skeptical air he turned and let the sensation lead him wherever it meant for him to go.

Walking through the city as the early morning faded into day he kept his eyes peeled for any more wild kids roaming around. He had seen a few walking with what he assumed to be their parents, looking well cared for, but he hadn't spotted Jaster or his little group of friends. He assumed he'd see them closer to mid-day, when the markets he passed would be far more busy.

He almost missed the warning while his thoughts were off wandering.

"Din, stop." He stopped dead in his tracks at the firm command, feet rooting in place and shoulders tense. "Over there." His buir stated, appearing beside him and motioning toward a large warehouse area.

It looked like he had walked all the way to the warehouse district next to the spaceport.

"I've told you at least five times that if I ever caught you pulling this kind of osik I would toss you out on your shebs. You're done! Get off my property!" Hearing the commotion he felt inexplicably drawn to the sound of the argument that followed. Normally he would have turned a blind eye to it, it wasn't his business after all, but there was something… something telling him this was the opportunity he needed.

As he rounded the side of the building an armored individual slammed into his shoulder on their way past. When he turned to look at them they sneered at him before storming off.

"Shab. Where am I going to find a replacement so soon?" Din cleared his throat loudly, catching the attention of the Chagrian whose body language was both frustrated and desperate. "If you're here for a shipment we've had a couple of delays." The Chagrian growled when they'd finally noticed him.

"I'm not here for a shipment. I'm looking for work." He stated evenly.

The Chagrian frowned and turned to get a better look at him.

"Skillset?" They asked.

"Hunting, hand-to-hand, slicing, some mechanics… and I speak multiple languages." There were other things he was skilled with but he kept those close to his chest. Most of them weren't immediately helpful in finding a job anyway.

"Hm. You look like you can handle yourself. Ever worked security before?" Din inclined his helmet.

"A few times." Most of his skills in securing a location came from being on the watch rotation for the Covert. Some might consider that experience enough but he'd also worked for a couple of shady companies guarding their warehouses in exchange for much needed supplies. The bacta and medicine alone had been worth the monotonous work. Especially with the fever some of the foundlings had caught after one of the verde had come home sick without knowing it.

"Any references?" They asked.

Din shook his head honestly, shoulders sagging slightly.

"They were confidential contracts." The Chagrian frowned, eying his spear, before they seemed to come to a decision.

"Good timing. I just fired one of my staff because he couldn't keep his nose out of the shipments. I need a new security guard for the night shift. Interested?" Din couldn't believe his luck.

"It's not luck, Din'ika, it is the force." He heard Tarre's words, even if he didn't acknowledge them.

"Yes." The Chagrian grinned and motioned him closer.

"Come into my office and we'll talk details. The name's Korrmigan of Clan Sumas, he/him." Din inclined his head politely as he stepped closer and took the offered arm in a friendly clasp.

"Din of Clan Djarin, he/him." The male stalled for a moment, his eyes flickering over Din's armor and his spear once more.

"Well, Din of Clan Djarin, I'll be more than happy to have you." The male sounded excited in a way that made Din feel vaguely lost. There was something here he wasn't understanding, some important piece of information he was missing.

As he sat down in the Chagrian's office he pushed the feeling aside. He'd have time to worry about that sort of thing later. For now- he had a job to secure.

Mando'a

Jate vaar'tur- Good morning.
Ad'ika- Litttle one/Son/Daughter.
Buir- Parent/Mother/Father.
Jatne vod- Sir/Madam/Customer, not meant for military use.
Vor'e- Thanks.
Ner ad- My Child/Son/Daughter.
Neral- A type of grain common to the Mandalore system.
Uj'ayl- A thick scented syrup used in cooking.
Beroya- Bounty Hunter
Kih'parjai- Small victory/Don't mention it/No problem.
Verd'goten- A trial of adulthood. It is different for each clan and individual but often involves a test of hunting, survival, and fighting skills.
Kute- Bodysuit/Flightsuit, something worn under armor.
Osik- Shit/Crap.
Shebs- Backside/Rear/Buttocks, used for the rear of buildings and the backside of objects. Also used as an insult, meaning ass.