Chapter Text
Bo-Katan had to admit, when Koska had reported sighting a Mandalorian in full pure beskar armour down at the docks, her interest was piqued.
A body so spectacularly armoured could have been a huge advantage to her cause. As her father always said, one Mandalorian could be the difference between defeat and victory - so you could imagine her disappointment when the Mandalorian she had been looking so forward to meeting was in fact a zealot.
Her disappointment was shared amongst her comrades.
Upon returning to land after scuttling the fishing boat, Koska sat in the corner of their hide-out to sulk with a sour expression twisting her features. Woves was more vocal; he stalked the room, cursing the Mandalorian through gritted teeth. “Just our luck for it to be Child of the Watch .”
“We don’t need him to take the freighter.” Bo-Katan said softly, although there was a taste of bitterness to her words. She quietly moved to the window, her helmet resting between her hip and her elbow. Koska’s sharp eyes caught her gaze and Bo-Katan gave her a disheartened smile. “Of course, it wouldn’t have hurt to have him along.”
“You would have thought someone so devoted to Mandalore would have done their part to help us return home.”
“If the Children of the Watch were truly devoted to Mandalore, they never would have stayed hidden while Mandalore was under siege.”
“So what now? Will we continue with the plan like it was before?”
“Perhaps,” Bo-Katan muttered her reply. Her eyes had peered out of the window and fallen on a dilapidated Razor Crest assault ship, held together by fishing nets and mooring lines. “But I think we should give the Mandalorian another chance.”
Woves scoffed behind her. “I think he’s already made up his mind. Why would a Child of the Watch help one of us?”
“I’ve met worse cultists. In fact, he’s probably one of the most pleasant cultists I’ve ever met.” Bo-Katan turned and her disheartened smile turned to one that was more mischievous. There was a cunning gleam in her green eyes. “Perhaps he could still be persuaded.”
“And just how are you going to do that?” Koska asked, rising from her seat.
Bo-Katan’s smile widened. She tilted her head to the side. “I’m going to buy him a drink.”
They had found the Mandalorian stalking the docks at night, his beskar armour gleaming under the warm yellow light of the lamp-posts, dipping in and out of sight between towering crates of cargo. They also spotted several armed fisherfolk closing in around him from all-sides.
An ambush.
Bo-Katan signalled for her group to land silently out of sight, perching stealthily atop a nearby container. Through her helmet, she caught the threats made by one of the fisherfolk in particular - “You killed my brother, now I’m gonna kill your pet. ”
She had heard enough.
With a gesture to the others, they dropped in to support the Mandalorian. Within seconds, the fisherfolk lay dead with numerous smoking blaster wounds. All four Mandalorians had drawn their blasters at the same time, acting as one, and Bo-Katan felt a small twinge of satisfaction at that.
She turned to the Mandalorian while holstering her blasters. “Can we at least buy you a drink?” She said, continuing their earlier conversation as if it had not finished hours ago.
The Mandalorian hesitated for a moment before replying. “I could have dealt with them myself.”
Bo-Katan felt herself raise an eyebrow. She was just deciding her next words, when the Mandalorian spoke up again.
“But thank you for your help.”
A satisfied smile crossed her face. Yes, she thought. Definitely one of the more agreeable cultists out there.
“I understand we may not see eye to eye in certain areas,” She said carefully. “But we are all still Mandalorians. You said you were looking for more of our kind - well, you found them. Let us buy you a drink or a meal or something for the little one, and perhaps we can help you out with that quest of yours.”
Another pause. One of the reasons Bo-Katan sometimes hated these helmets was because they made it impossible to read another Mandalorian’s face. She held her breath, waiting for the Mandalorian’s response.
Finally, the Mandalorian inclined his head forward. “Technically it should be me who's buying the drinks.”
Bo-Katan felt herself smile for real. “Well, we won’t argue with that - but I didn’t catch your name?”
“It’s Din Djarin.”