Chapter Text
The Jedi who swore to protect his child - Skywalker, Cara has since informed him - calls him to Ossus. It's not urgent, by any means, the message just asks that he come to the planet to discuss something about Grogu's future learning.
He waited until Cobb was out of the Bacta tank to go; the man is… as close to a friend as Din tends to make, even though they've only met a few times over the year since they killed a Greater Krayt Dragon. He deserved a familiar face to wake up too. Or, buy'ce, as it were.
But once Cobb is on his feet and back in Freetown, Din leaves, heads to Ossus, to the Jedi school, to his ad.
His N1 is… different. Of course, he's grateful to Peli for getting it made and not scamming him too much. And at least he has his own ship. But it's going to be a nightmare to use for bounty hunting. Where is he supposed to store the live bounties, the droid port?
At least she can't make him with play T4-X1 droid with this one.
He misses his Razor Crest. It had been his home more than anywhere else had been since they fled Concordia. Especially since the massacre of his Covert on Nevarro. Every weapon he's collected over the last two decades, every tool and supply he's ever gathered, the small number of toys he'd gotten for Grogu as they'd travelled.
His Amban phase-pulse blaster, a last gift from his departed baji, his vibroknife that Paz had given him when they were still in training, his buir's old blaster, modded so much that it would be near impossible to recreate, the crate full of blankets the foundlings of his covert had gifted him over the years.
All gone. He can't think about it too long or the grief will claw into his brain and make it impossible to focus on the task at hand.
It's not the Razor Crest; but the N1 is fast. And that's useful to get from Tatooine to Ossus.
He lands a little ways from the cluster of buildings the coordinates Skywalker sent him lead too; and hauls himself out. The planet is covered in trees, but also long stalks of bamboo that made it hard to tell where was clear to land from orbit. He’s not used to this much foliage.
He's still in sight of his ship when the lady from Corvus - Ahsoka Tano - greets him.
"Why are you here?" She asks, gesturing for him to follow, and though he doesn't think she's being rude, he still bristles, "Grogu is training with his kind. Wasn't that your mission?"
She's searching for something. He doesn't know what she wants, but as one warrior to another, he can answer her questions with honesty.
"He is still a Mandalorian foundling." Din tells her. "I'm here to make sure he's okay."
He doesn't mention the adoption. The whispered words he'd said after they'd left Corvus, the vow. Does it matter any more? He's removed his buy'ce and is still reckoning with what that means for his being mando'ad - the Nite Owls remove their helmets, but they do not honour their words. Boba does both, but does not consider himself Mandolorian - and he has no idea where the Armourer has gone since she left Nevarro, so she cannot finalise the vow in the eyes of the Ka'ra.
But Grogu is still his Foundling, and Din will reserve the right to take him away should he be even the slightest bit unhappy. His quest, his aka, aside.
"Will you being here help him?" Tano asks, eyes managing to find his through the visor of his buy'ce, "I told you before. Attachment is dangerous for Jedi; and he was already very attached to you. Visiting will make it harder for him to let go."
"Skywalker asked me to come." Din says after a beat or two of silence, when he notices her beginning to tense, "He said he wanted to speak to me."
Tano's eyes widen, but she relaxes. "And here I had thought you tracked us down yourself."
He would have, eventually. The only reason he hadn't gotten around to it was because he'd been trying to distract himself: tracking down the remanent of his covert and helping Boba and Fennec on Tatooine were important, but they were also useful to distract himself from the loss he felt.
"And since you had that…"
He follows her gaze to the Darksaber hilt on his belt.
He'd completely forgotten about it.
"I won it off Moff Gideon. Bo-Katan tells me its meant to grant the right to be Mand'alor."
"You don't believe it?" Tano asks, tilting her head.
Togruta, like most carnivorous species, have a way of making you feel like prey. Din's own carnivore instincts respond in kind, and he bites down the urge to bear his teeth and hiss.
Or, maybe, its a Jedi thing. He wouldn't know.
"I had never heard of it before Gideon started monologuing." He tells her, forcibly settling himself, "My tribe was more focused on survival and passing on our language than laser-swords.
Tano surprises him by laughing, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. She seems years younger as she does, a weight briefly gone from her shoulders. He stares her down, because he has no idea what's so funny about this.
(Boba had laughed too, but that was more at Bo-Katan than anything else. He thinks.)
Tano takes a deep breath to settle herself, and the gravity returns. Din appreciates it.
"So you will not take up the role of Mand'alor?"
"I don't want it." He says, "I have no desires of leadership or power, no interest in a cursed planet, and my people are dead or scattered to the edges of the galaxy. I offered it to Kryze, but she claimed she could not accept it."
Tano nods, "She has been given it peacefully before, but that was before the Purge. No Mandalorian would accept her as Duchess unless she won it back in combat."
"Duchess?" Din asks, because that's not a word you hear in reference to the leadership of Mandalore. Mand'alor, Aliit'alor, sure. Verd'alor, Alor'ad, even more common. Goran, definitely. But Duchess? That's a Republic word.
An Empire word, a small part of him thinks.
"That is the role she would take, no?" Tano tilts her head, "It was the role her sister had."
Din really needs to find other Mando'ad who can tell him about their more modern history. He knows the old stuff; the history that wouldn't cause conflict between the Fighting Corps before the Purge; then all the adults older than 25 had slowly died off defending the young.
The Armourer was the oldest of those that remained, back on Nevarro. She would be 48 now, if she still lives.
"If she were to be the leader of Mandalore , she would be Mand'alor." He says, slowly, "I can't imagine any Mando'ade would respond well to someone calling themselves Duchess. The Republic and Empire did enough harm."
Tano inclines her head, and they walk the rest of the way in silence.
They reach the top of a hill and for a moment, both stare over the small collection of building. There are children running around near one of them, under the watch of several adults. It reminds him of the covert; but if they'd been allowed to be in the sunlight.
His heart pangs.
"Most of them won't know what to make of you." Tano warns, "Mandalorians and Jedi were enemies for centuries. They were only brief allies before the Empire decimated them both. Even those that have put that past behind them, or do not know it at all, will be wary."
"Why?" Din asks, "I was aware of the enemies thing, but…"
"Beskar blocks the force." Tano explains, turning to him, "Most Mandalorians have a lower percentage of Beskar in their armour, and as such even though the force is muffled, they can still be felt through it. You however…"
His bekar'gam is pure beskar. 100%, not even the buy'ce - the oldest part - has a hint of durasteel or other substitutes.
That was the Way of their tribe. The beskar'gam is your soul, the buy'ce is the most important bit. Every single one had been pure Beskar, even if there had only been trace amounts in the rest of the armour.
"That's not even considering all the weapons. And the sabre feels… interesting, in the Force," Tano continues, then nudges him forward with a smirk, "Go on. If Master Skywalker summoned you, then you shouldn't keep him waiting."
"If I found you later," Din calls, as she turns to go, "Could you give me some tips on how to use it? The Darksaber."
Tano stops, and to anything less than Din's hunter's eyes, it would look normal. A short halt to think about what was said.
To Din it seems she freezes.
"I thought you did not wish to be Mand'alor?" She turns, voice light.
"I do not." He replies, because this he knows to his core, "But it is a weapon in my arsenal. I would learn how to use it, as any good Mando'ad should."
She stares at him, searching. He remains still and silent.
"Once you have spoken with Master Skywalker." She says, finally, "I will find you. Then we shall see."
She strides off into the trees, and Din turns to face the buildings, deciding that response is better than he had hoped.
Grogu is down their somewhere, he thinks, and that is what gives him the strength to move forward.