Jord gripped the rusted wrench, tightening the irrigation valve as best he could. Cracked and leaking for the hundredth time, he was doing his best to keep it together. Ironically much like everything else on the farm and his chosen family.
The sun hung low that afternoon, beating down across the fields, making his skin burn. He cursed under his breath as his forehead began to drip with sweat. His frustration from the daily chores was not what was troubling him. In fact it was the chores that were keeping him sane and his mind off his wife running off with the mandalorian three days ago.
He gritted his teeth and twisted the valve once more when finally it gave, water sputtering through the cracked line. He stuck his hands under the water and splashed it on his face and neck. He needed to get out of the sun and move onto the next problem—the barn door.
As he entered the barn he was met by the looming eyes of his niece, Prisa Tersu. With her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, she was the spitting image of Lenore, despite her golden hair inherited from her mother, Rya. But he was in no mood to fight, even if she had been waiting for him all day.
"Well?" Prisa's voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet. "You going to ignore me forever?"
Jord kept his focus on the task at hand, his back stiff, but he could feel the heat of her glare. He knew all too well Prisa did not like him. She never had. Not since he arrived. But he was used to people's hate. He had hoped by now, after he married Lenore, some of it would ease. It hadn't.
"I didn't know she had a ship alright?" Prisa walked over and stood by his side. "I called in my favor from Din to find Wyb. He's a bounty hunter after all. How did I know she would take off with him?"
Jord stood and tossed the wrench onto the workbench with a clatter at the mention of Din Djarin. He was no fan of the flashy hunter. His thoughts circled back to everything that had gone wrong.
"That beskar head is going to get her killed," Jord muttered.
Prisa's eyes narrowed. "No more how you got Rol killed?"
"Watch it, Prisa," Jord said lowly. "That's not what happened."
"All I know is when I was eight, Rol left with unit 56 and didn't come back. You did." Prisa shot back. "He was my family. And now I'm here stuck with you. You alone."
"I am your family now too," Jord reminded her. "And I've been Lenore's family long before you came into this galaxy."
"What a mistake," Prisa muttered.
"Hey!" Jord finally snapped. "I know you think Rol's death was my fault, but it wasn't. Ok kid. You have no idea what happened on that Star Destroyer. You have no idea what Unit 56 went through, or what I have for that matter. All you have are stories."
"I've seen a thing or two myself now," Prisa shot back.
"Then wake up," Jord returned to the door. "Your new republic isn't as justified as you thought, isn't it? Now that they're hunting your cousin? Mark my word, they will make him take the fall if it suits everyone best."
"That's not—" Prisa protested, but was cut off.
"True?" Jord standing to meet her gaze, his tone quieter now, tinged with something more vulnerable. "Look, I know you don't like me. I don't expect you to. But you asked to leave the core and live here on the farm. So I think that entitles me to some respect."
"In the smallest,"Prisa rolled her eyes. "I'm not about to give you a second chance to take down anymore members of this family."
His shoulders fell and he turned back to the door. Prisa watched as the man she had pinned all her anger and grief on over the last five years. "Hey…Lenore gave me a second chance. A scoundrel like me… I didn't deserve that. But she gave it to me. And I've been trying to make it work. I've been trying to fix things, but all you do is stand there and watch me fall apart."
It was true. Lenore had given him a second chance. But something in her gut didn't want to forgive him. She couldn't. Or maybe she was afraid to. Perhaps it was that Tersu stubbornness her stepfather, Rillo, was always talking about. But the words he spoke—the sincerity in his eyes—gave her pause. She was still angry, but something in her shifted. Rol would've wanted her to forgive him.
"I told Lenore to stay put," he continued. "I know her better than anyone. She's fearless, but that fearlessness makes her blind to her weaknesses. Wyb is her weakness. And if she's out there with Din, she might not make it back."
There was a long pause before Prisa spoke, her voice softer. "You really think she won't make it back?"
"I don't know," Jord said, his voice quiet, almost sorrowful. "But if she doesn't, then it's just you and me left here. And I don't think you'd want that, would you?"
For a moment, Prisa didn't move. Her eyes were locked on him, but there was something—something in her expression that wasn't just anger anymore. She looked weary, the weight of everything that had happened finally settling in. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, just a crack in the armor.
"No," she admitted, her voice low. "Ok, I get it. You care. I know that. But I still don't trust you."
"I don't expect you to. I did hold a blaster to your head when you were eight," Jord replied.
"Which you haven't apologized for."
"Apologies were never my style. Action is more inline with me ," he said, finishing the repair on the door. "But I promise you this, just as I promised your aunt under the remembrance tree, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for the duration…until I take my last breath."
A shrill beep cut through the silence. Prisa glanced at her wristlet, frowning at the flashing hologram com indicator. She nodded curtly to Jord before turning away and pressing a sequence of buttons.
"It's the main house," she said over her shoulder, already moving toward the com station.
"Hello?" Prisa answered as the hologram flickered with static.
"Well, look who it is," Besa said. "I've missed that beautiful face. How are you kid?"
"Besa?" Prisa's eyes widened. She hadn't heard from Besa or Civa since Wyb's wild rescue of the younglings five years ago. To have them call the farm directly was a shock.
"Hey, don't forget me," Civa leaned into the frame. "Wow… you look just like… your aunt."
Civa's voice tightened. He hadn't spoken to Lenore since the star destroyer—since Rol's death. Blaming her had been easier than accepting the truth. But now, circumstances called for a truce.
"Is she around?" Besa asked.
"No," Jord cut in, stepping beside Prisa. "I take it you both saw the news?"
"Why we called," Besa said looking at Civa. "Where is she?"
"Din Djarin and her are out tracking Wyb," Prisa replied. As soon as she did she saw the looks the old veteran troopers gave one another. "What?"
"I'm not surprised," Civa remarked. "By her stupidity and fondness for mandos."
"Hey–" Prisa began but Jord placed a hand on her shoulder.
"It's not ideal," Jord shot back. "I'm afraid all that shiny beskar and new republic scent will draw attention, and put her and Wyb in danger."
"Highly possible," Besa scratched her chin. "Well you boys are thinking it, so I'll say it. I think we need to get the unit back together."
"What unit," Civa rolled his eyes. "Rol is dead, Rillo is playing stay at home dad in the core, and you and I got this rodie to drop off in the Ring."
"Well, the three of us could do some good," Besa countered.
Jord sighed and looked at Prisa. "You all have any idea where Wyb might go?"
"Any old hideaways from your forgotten days?" Besa added.
"Sonibell Noya."
"Where's that?" Civa asked.
"It's not a place, it's his old partner." Prisa explained.
"Isn't her father leading the witch hunt?"Jord frowned.
"Yes, but she has been inactive from the NRI since the bounty was placed on Wyb's head. If I had to guess, she's the reason Wyb, Kyla, and R3 escape before the hearing. I can ask my mom," Prisa said.
"I think we better keep Rya and Rillo out of this. This falls outside the New Republic scope if you know what I mean," Civa said.
"I can just ask casually," Prisa narrowed her eyes.
"Alright, sounds like a shit plan, but good as any," Jord nodded. "Prisa you get the details, and I will pay a visit to her and find out where Wyb might have gone. Civa, Besa, I'll contact you when I know more."
"Copy that," Besa replied.
"We'll be in the ring," Civa grunted, dragging Vog into the frame. "Delivery."
"Have fun," Jord smirked.
"Always." Civa ended the transmission.
"Fifty credits!" Wyb exclaimed, staring at the ugnaught holding his hand out for payment. R3 beeped in protest, his domed head swiveling side to side. "Even my droid knows you're overcharging."
"This is the ring, hotshot." The ugnaught pulled his hand back and shoved it into his pocket. "Quick service for those in a rush, costs."
"How much for just the parts?" Wyb countered. He could patch the ship enough to make it to Bespin. With his credits running low, he figured they could risk a day or two in this notorious hub.
"Forty-five," the ugnaught replied.
"Forty-five?" Wyb frowned.
"Are you part parrot?" The mechanic's lips curled in irritation. "Because you keep repeating everything I say."
"These parts are practically junk." Wyb lifted one up, inspecting the worn edges. "I'll be lucky if I don't have to replace the whole set in a month. And let's face it, there's no such thing as luck."
"Forty-five for convenience and labor loss. Fifty, you pay for my expertise. I get you where you need to go. After that, is your own affair." The ugnaught began collecting his parts back into a crate. R3 rolled in front of him, extending his shock blade with a defiant hum.
"Don't pick a fight with me. We're the same size. And I have thumbs," the ugnaught growled.
"R3, lay off," Wyb commanded. The droid retracted the blade, rolling back with a mocking raspberry.
"Alright, alright. Fifty it is."
"Sixty," the ugnaught shot back. "For being a pain in the ass."
Wyb sighed. "When can you have it ready?"
"Three hours."
Wyb counted out sixty credits but covered them with his hand before the ugnaught could grab them. He slid twenty back into his own pocket. "Forty now, twenty when I pick up the ship."
The ugnaught nodded and waddled off to work. Kyla appeared beside him.
"Your mother teach you to bargain?"
"Lenore? No. She preferred a blaster. Jord on the other hand used his charm." Wyb winked at her. "Any luck?"
"Yes, I got in touch with Lando." Kyla pulled up her hood as they left the shop, R3 rolling along beside them. "He's taking administrative leave from the core. He'll be in Bespin around the same time we will."
"You didn't tell him where we were, did you?"
"No," Kyla said. "But it's Lando. He figured it out from the background noise and the calling booth's backdrop."
"Hey." Wyb stopped her and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I don't want you to worry. We'll get through this."
"We already are," She smiled, warmth shining through the tension.
R3 let out a low, urgent beep, his sensors twitching toward a group of Rodians watching them from across the street.
"I think R3's right," Wyb said, his voice lowering. "We need to find a place to hunker down and wait for the repairs."
He grabbed Kyla's hand and led her down the street, his eyes darting between alleyways and storefronts. The Rodians were following.
"Wyb," Kyla's voice tightened as the gang surrounded them, six Rodians, all armed and ready. This wasn't a situation he could blast his way out of.
"You boys lost?" Wyb asked, forcing a casual grin. "Because if so, my droid here is the best navigator in the galaxy. Can point you in the right direction."
R3 retorted and extended his buzz saw attachment. The Rodians chuckled.
"You look familiar, friend," the lead Rodian said, stepping forward.
"Just got one of those faces." Wyb kept his hand near his blaster.
"A particular one, no doubt." The Rodian held up a tracking fob and activated it. Wyb's face popped up, a bounty readout glowing ominously. "Wyb Tarkin."
"It's Tersu," Wyb growled, pulling his blaster and aiming it at the Rodian's head. The gang responded by raising their weapons at Wyb, Kyla, and R3.
"We have you outnumbered," the leader sneered.
"I've had worse." Wyb kept his eyes locked on the leader.
"I bet you have." The Rodian nodded in appreciation. "But let's be honest. A New Republic ambassador, an Imperial brat, and an old droid are no match for anyone who operates in the Ring. Do your girl and droid a favor and comply. The bounty says to bring you in alive."
Wyb lowered his blaster. Their odds weren't great, not with Kyla and R3 both at risk. R3, however, had no such intention of going down without a fight.
The droid charged forward, slicing into one Rodian's thigh and another's shin. Wyb seized the moment and shot two of the other gang members in the head. Kyla fired her blaster, downing a third.
The lead Rodian was faster. A stun bolt shot from his blaster, shocking R3 until he sputtered and collapsed. Before Kyla could react, the leader grabbed her, pressing his blaster to her head.
"Go!" Kyla shouted.
"No." Wyb dropped his blaster to the ground, his hands raised. "Not without you or R3."
The Rodian motioned to the rodian with the bleeding shin to fasten binders on Wyb.
"There. You got me," Wyb muttered. "Now let her and the droid go."
The leader smirked. "If these two are so important to you, I'm sure the New Republic will be just as excited to get their hands on them. Let's all go and get better acquainted."
He motioned to the other Rodian to pick up R3, him groaning with a limp. The other shoved Wyb forward, his hands still locked in the kept his gaze locked on Kyla, his jaw clenched against the helplessness tearing at his chest—he had a bad feeling about this.