Chapter Text
F.
Din had just stepped inside the Razor Crest and unhooked the amban from his shoulder when he got the distinct feeling that something was amiss.
There was nothing obviously out of place, but appearances meant little in the face of intuition. This was a warning born of pure instinct, honed through years of experience; he'd long ago learned not to ignore it.
Still, he went through the motions of being caught unawares. Obfuscating ignorance was often the best defense when facing an unknown enemy.
Perhaps they'd expected him to return with an uncooperative bounty. Perhaps that had even been the point: an ill-conceived rescue.
If so, they were about to be as disappointed as Din.
The tracking fob for his latest bounty had led him here: an average temperate mid-sized semi-populated semi-forested planet that you could find anywhere. Din hadn't even bothered to learn the name; he almost never came to this sector anymore. Bad memories. If it weren't for the fact that the client had specifically requested a Mandalorian at a price that meant Din could afford to say no to future jobs, then he would have said no to this one. Only Imps paid this well and Din said no to those on principle.
This wasn't an Imp job, but it paid just as well, so he'd accepted it against his better judgement.
He'd landed the Razor Crest out in the forest to avoid detection as well as paying a docking fee, for all the good it had done him. Normally, prioritizing stealth over speed worked out to his advantage, but while he was in town gathering intel, the fob stopped tracking. So the mark was captured, or frozen in carbonite, or the bounty had been canceled, or maybe they had found a way to mask their chain code.
Now, Din was going to leave with less than nothing.
Point was, it was no longer Din's responsibility. Nor was it his opportunity. There was nothing to do but leaveā
After taking care of whoever was on his ship uninvited.
It wouldnāt be the first time someone had thought they could catch him in a moment of distraction. Whoever or whatever it was, he would deal with it like he dealt with every other di'kut1 who tried to get the jump on a Mandalorian.
Din was halfway through putting his rifle down when he discovered what, exactly, had him on edge.
Sitting in the cargo hold, cloaked in black and blending in like he belonged there, was Luke.
Luke Skywalker. Hero of the Rebellion, destroyer of the Death Star. Desert rat.
"Hi, Din," he said, with a little wave and a small, hopeful, unsure smileā
Din could guess what Luke would probably try to say. I'm sorry, forgive me, please let me explain.
Din didnāt want to hear it.
He swung the rifle around and reattached it to his back as he descended the ramp.
He didn't have any particular destination in mindāhis business on this planet was finishedābut his ship was the last place he wanted to be right now.
Luke clearly didn't get the memo, following Din down the ramp.
"Din, please waitā"
Din said nothing and he didn't wait, stalking through the thick underbrush of the forest.
On some level, he'd thought it was only a matter of time until this happened; until he and Luke crossed paths again. Despite everything, thinking it was inevitable was preferable to thinking that they'd never meet againāon the occasions he let himself think of Luke at all.
Even so, he hadn't imagined it would happen like this. He hadn't imagined that Luke would seek him out. Certainly not after all this time.
Din cursed. He didn't want to be here, in this moment, in this way. Without preparation. Without even a job well-done to distract him.
He regretted anew his unwillingness to pay the fee to dock in the city. It was always easier to lose someone in a crowd than a forest, even someone as determined as Luke. Din hadn't anticipated needing to shake a tail, but here he was.
"Please will you justāwill you slow down and talk to me?" Luke pleaded. "Or, at the very least, will you listen to what I have to say?"
Din ignored him; he didn't want to do either.
This whole trip had been a waste of time and fuel. A waste of Din's peace of mind, too. Unfortunate that the bounty hadn't worked out; it really had been worth a lot of creditsāenough to get Din back into this star-forsaken sector again afterā
Din stopped. Of course.
"You set the bounty," he accused, "to bring me out here. You're my client."
"I didn't know how else to reach you."
Well. At least he admitted it. Din had always believed Luke to be honestābut he'd believed a lot of things about Luke, once upon a time.
"You're a hard man to contact," Luke continued. "You changed the holo frequencies on the Razor Crest, you got rid of your comm, your broker at the Guild is different, you aren't hunting in the same places you used to. I had to do something."
"Maybe you should have taken the hint."
"I'll make sure you still get paid."
As if it were the credits that had upset Din.
He set off again, this time back to the Razor Crest; there was nothing for him on this planet and never had been.
Luke, as always, was not so easily deterred.
"I need to talk to you, to explainā"
"What is there to explain?"
"Well, if you'd let meā"
"Youāre the one who left."
Luke didn't falter at the accusation. He didn't deny it, either.
"I had to," Luke said, desperation bleeding into his voice. "I had no choice, no time to explainā"
"No time?" Din scoffed. "You had four years."
"Din, pleaseā"
"You left me." Din thwacked a low-lying branch out of the way. "And now you're back, resorting to trickery to get me here."
"It's not like that, Dinā"
"When you left, you didn't even have the decency to tell me you were leaving, let alone ask me to come with you. No goodbye, no explanation."
Luke made a pained noise. It was quiet enough that Din wouldn't have heard it without his helmet's sensors.
"You couldn't come with me. Where I had to goā¦"
"I didn't realize the Rebellion was so exclusive," Din bit out. "Last I heard, they needed all the help they could get. Then again, what do I know?"
Din walked on. Luke kept pace.
"Cyar'ika, ge'det'yeā" 2
Din froze. "No."
"Dinā"
He stopped abruptly, looking at Luke properly for the first time.
He looked the same except for all the ways he looked different. Din wasnāt sure which part bothered him more.
Din put it aside, refocusing his attention on the anger. Not that it had ever really left him.
"You don't get to call me that. You don't get to speak that way to me."
Luke's hand was reaching out to Din, but he pulled it back. "Iā"
"If I truly could not have gone with you, you could have told me that. I would have respected it even if I didn't like it." He clenched his fist. "Instead, you didn't trust me. Instead, you became an oathbreaker."
"I broke no oaths." Luke's eyes were bright with conviction and sorrow. "I meant my vows to you, and I never strayed. We are one when together, we are one when apart."
"And what of the part where you swore we would share all? Did you forget?"
It wasnāt worth mentioning the final line of their vow; Luke had left Tika behind, too, after all. Despite everything.
Din turned away and resumed walking back to his ship.
He couldn't stand to look at Luke, with all his shiny conviction. Luke had convinced him to do all kinds of things with that conviction, pure as it was.
Din could not afford to be swayed, not this time.
Ā
None too quickly, they were back at the Razor Crest. Din did not stop his march until he was at the top of the gangway.
Luke did not follow him this time. Smart.
"For that first year, I thought you were dead," Din informed him.
Luke's expression was grim; he had to know the lengths Din had gone to in order to arrive at that conclusion.
"I mourned you," Din continued, "and then to find out you were alive and well through the HoloNet, off playing hero for a rebellion that neverā"
Din cut himself off. There was no point.
"Four years, Luke, and not a word."
"I couldn't risk it,ā he replied cryptically. He didnāt look happy about it. āI finished my task and came looking for you as soon as possible, Din. I give you my word."
Din signaled the ramp to raise.
"Your word means nothing. I don't know you anymore. Maybe I never did."
He couldn't say it in Mando'a, the double-meaning untrue. He wouldn't admit that to Luke, though saying it in Basic was as good as a confession.
"I'll make this right, I promise," said Luke, eyes full of determination. "Because I know you. No matter what, I hold you in my heart."
The ramp shut. Din didnāt take-off until Luke was safely away from the ship, watching from the forest with those sad blue eyes that always seemed to know more than they should.
He might not know Luke anymore, but Din would always love him.3
That was what made it hurt.
1.
Of all the planets in the Outer Rim, Tatooine was Din's favorite.
He was aware that it was an uncommon sentiment, even among locals. Especially among locals. It was hot, dry, full of crime, and far away from everything.
Din loved it.
The Imps had as much sway there as the Old Republic ever had, which was to say in name only. The Hutts paid lip service to the Empire, but Tatooine was as unchanging as the sands; it was clear who ran the show.
The consistency of life on Tatooine was probably why so many bounties ended up there. If the Empire wanted you, theyād never find you as long as you greased the right palms. If a syndicate wanted you, there was a rival syndicate willing to take you in just to spite the competition. And if the Hutts wanted you, well. No one liked the Hutts. The Tuskens themselves might hide you from a Hutt.
But the desert had its rules, too, and if you broke them, even the jawas would leave you to the desert's justice.
Some, perhaps, managed to make it in the sands, escaping whatever was after them. Most did not. But perhaps there was appeal in that, too. Dying spitefully under the twin suns and laughing at anyone who dared profit off your corpse.
There were no rules about looting the dead, Desert Justice or otherwise. The rule was finders keepers for anything except water; water belonged to everyone.
Din was still an outsider on Tatooine, but he understood some of these rules. He'd seen that sweat equity was worth more than credits in some circles, and having a favor to call in was often as valuable as water.
Respecting the unspoken rulesātaking the time to learn themāhad gotten Din far. The Guild seemed to set aside the Tatooine jobs for him because he always brought them in, one way or another.
Not many people would put in the effort to find a dead body, but not many people had the skills necessary to do so. And Din? Din could find almost anyone. Even the dead. Sometimes, proof of the desertās justice was all it took to get a payout, and that was just fine by him.
He almost enjoyed going after those people who thought they were above the unspoken rules of Tatooine; dead bodies rarely put up a fight, and even those who were still alive by the time Din found them were usually close to the brink of death, anyway. Not that he minded a good fight, but outside the covert, most of the fights he got into were neither good nor noteworthy. Just another job.
Sometimes, though, a bounty surprised him.
It was one such bounty that Din had managed to track to one of the Tusken tribes.
As it so happened, said bounty had pissed off a lot of people; ducking out on payments and selling out old employers tended to make one unpopular. This bounty had burned almost every bridge there was to burn. Some only wanted their money back; some wanted blood.
Din was happy to deliver the man and collect on all accounts.
To Din's surprise, the bounty was still alive by the time Din got there, but that was where the pleasant surprises ended.
The Tuskens wouldn't hand the bounty over to Din.
The bounty had broken the worst taboo of all, one that only Hutts got away with: he had stolen water and sold it to the highest bidder. Probably in order to gain enough credits to pay off one of his many various bounties, though the āwhyā didnāt matter. Stealing water was a desert law you didnāt break.
The point was, unless Din retrieved said stolen water, he wasnāt going to get to take the bounty in, dead or otherwise.
It was stupidly complicated, but all Din had to do was get the water back and the Tuskens would happily exchange it for the bounty.
Din was tempted to walk away from the whole thing, but then he wouldn't be paid, and besides all that, he liked Tuskens far better than thieves.
So off he went, searching for the one who now had the Tusken's water. If they were decent, they'd return it once they learned it was stolen. Maybe Din would even reimburse themā he'd make more than double back once he brought in his bounty.
And if they weren't the decent sort, well. Din had several solutions for that, too.
He probably could have guessed what type of person they'd be based on the fact that they bought clearly stolen water and were hiding out in a secret valley bunker, but Din didn't usually jump to conclusions.
But conclusions were sometimes worth jumping to, because the buyer appeared to be working for a Hutt, as by the time Din finally caught up to him, the lavishly dressed twilek who, by the look of it, had just finished chipping a young man.
Where there were slavers, Hutts were never far behind.
Neither the slaver nor the slave noticed Din enter the cave dwelling; the latter because he was still woozy with whatever they'd drugged him with so he couldn't run away or fight back. The former because he was busy ogling his new property.
The slave was dressed in some kind of horrible, revealing skirt that showed more than it covered. He was young, healthy, and reasonably attractive. Or would have been in a different circumstance. In any case, dressed as he was, it was clear what they intended for him.
Din didnāt normally do freebies, but slavery disgusted him, and something inside Din screamed out help him.
So, he shot the slaver. A swift death was better than filth like that deserved, but Din didn't have time for creative justice.
Impulsive warriors were usually dead warriors, but acting on his gut had helped him survive alright so far.
Anyway, it saved him the trouble of trying to negotiate the return of stolen water. The dead couldn't negotiate, after all.
Now, what to do with the would-be slave.
Night was falling quickly and he was starting to shiver, inadequately dressed as he was. Din pulled off his cloak and stepped forward, draping it around the young manās shoulders. He bent down to uncuff him; the young man was now looking at Din with something uncomfortably close to adoration. Or maybe it was just tranq-induced grogginess.
"You saved me," he rasped, voice cracking from a desert-dry throatāslavers didn't give slaves any more water than necessary. Din pulled his own canteen out and handed it over.
The young man drank deeply. He didn't even question whether it was safe. Too trusting. But, though he had to be parched, he didn't drink it all; he left enough for someone else.
Desert manners. He was probably from Tatooine, then. Didn't much look it, but who was Din to judge?
"Thank you," he said, handing the canteen back to Din. His eyes looked a bit more focused now, but only just.
"Don't thank me."
Din tilted the young man's head to the side to look at the chip in his neck. He didn't resist at all, which was probably a bad sign. Din wasn't exactly a comforting sight, but he was just watching Din, blinking softly, unconcerned. Yep, that was adoration in his eyes.
There was a bright red gash on his neck where the chip's blinking white light could just be seen through his skin.
Din dropped his hand. Bad luck. He was too late to help this one.
"My head feels weird," the young man said. "Can't feel myā¦anything. It's all tingly."
"They tranq'd you."
He groaned. "Seriously? I go out drinking in Mos Eisley one time, and this happens! Can't believe I got snatched."
Din stood up and rummaged through the slaver's things while the young man complained about his bad luck. He mostly seemed to be talking to himselfātalking for the sake of talking. Probably was in shock. But Din had a job to do here, still, and it was only half done.
He found the Tusken's stolen water easily enough, as well as other things they'd be interested in. Hopefully enough to get them to hand over Din's bounty.
The most interesting thing he found was a data pad, flashing green with a pending Identity Contract.
LOCAL SERVER: RECEIVED. BEGIN UPLOAD TO PLANETARY SERVER? PIN: **** CONFIRMED. UPLOAD IN PROGRESS......
Whatever data was being uploaded was about 30% complete and rising slowly. Said data appeared to be the young man's profile, containing his image (too bright), his age (older than he looked), his species (human, multi-planet variant), and value (high).
There was also his name: Luke Skywalker. That was a slave name. So maybe it wasn't his first time through the slave circuit.
Din switched the scanner in his helmet and approached the young manāLukeāanew, examining the chip more thoroughly. According to the data pad, once activated the chip would induce paralysis on command or it would explode if it left a certain radius from whoever controlled it, depending on the signal received.
He didn't want to think about why a slaver who was alone in the desert with a new slave would want to be able to paralyze them at will, especially someone dressed with as little left to the imagination as this Luke Skywalker was.
The good news was that the scanner indicated the chip was functioning, but not active. From what Din understood about transmitter chips, it took a few hours for them to work as they were supposed toātime the slavers used to calibrate the chips to their command and update their system claiming their new property.
Usually, it was an effective enough system that no one bothered trying to dispute it. It was difficult to slice the slaver network and attempting to do so through the chip triggered the same mechanism that made the chips explode.
Din didnāt know exactly how long it had been since the young man had been chipped, but even so, there was a chanceāa small chance, but still a chanceāthat he wasn't doomed. Din had apparently interrupted the slaver at a vital juncture. The network upload wasnāt finished yetāthe chip had been updated with the relevant data, but it was still contained locally for now.
Based on how long it was taking, there were probably at least a couple hours until the information was uploaded to the slave network and the chip came online. He didnāt know how the local Hutt network operated, but if it were a standard array, the information couldnāt be changed easily once completeāa countermeasure to make sure no one could steal slaves.
Which meant that if this Luke Skywalker got off-planet before the chip was active, perhaps it never would be.
"You've been through the slavers' den before?" he asked, just to be sure.
"No, I'm free born. But my fatherā¦" he shook his head, eyes still unfocused from the tranq. It would wear off soon enough. Hopefully. "Why do you ask?"
Not too late, but time was short.
Din looked at the young man. Luke.
Luke looked back, gaze trusting. Too trusting.
Well. Stalling wouldn't make the truth any easier to hear.
"Bad news: you have to leave this planet and you can never come back."
Luke frowned and pulled Din's cloak tight around his shoulders. "What? Why?"
Din showed him the data pad. "This you?"
Luke squinted, leaning in to read. "Yeah."
Suspicions confirmed, Din tossed it into the sand and shot it. It sparked in a satisfying way before going dark.
"What'd you do that for?" Luke cried. "I could have used that. Or sold it."
"I did that to buy you some time."
"Time? Time for what?"
He blinked up at Din, uncomprehending. He looked small in Din's cloak, just a tan face and a sea of blonde hair.
"I don't know how many people were working for thisā¦" Din searched for a word in Basic to describe the slaver, but as usual found the language lacking. "This hut'uun.4 Who else might know about you. But it will take time for your information to be synced with the Hutt Network, so if you can get off-planet and out of this system before it does, you'll be out of range."
It wouldn't be a great life; it would be a life of running. But better that than whatever life awaited him here.
Luke blinked, like waking from a deep slumber. "Out of range?"
"They won't be able to signal the transmitter chip if youāre in a different system."
"Kriff, they chipped me? Why didn't you say so!"
He reached for his neckāDin grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
"Don't touch it."
"I can't believe this,ā he whispered, pulling his hand away and dropping it in his lap. āCan't you do something?"
Din gestured to the smoking data pad. "I already did."
"I mean can't you take out the chip?"
"Not without killing you."
Luke paled. "Yeah, okay, let's not do thatā¦do you know anyone else who can do it?"
"No." Din stood up. This was the longest conversation he'd had in a long time. "You need to get moving. Get on a ship and leave Tatooine for good."
Luke stared at him.
"Now," Din prompted.
"I need to get to my aunt and uncleā"
"Do they share your name?"
"No, butā"
"Then for their sake and yours, leave them behind."
Luke wrapped Dinās cloak even tighter around himself. "I can't even say goodbye?"
"If they're from here, they'll understand."
Lukeās face crumpled in despair. Maybe Din should have used more tact, butā¦
But. This wasnāt Dinās problem.
He did one final visual sweep of the dwelling and headed toward the door.
"Good luck."
"You're leaving?" Luke scrambled to his feet, nearly overbalancing. "You're dumping this world-shattering news on me and leaving?"
"What do you want me to do, hunt down every slaver on Tatooine so you can live out the rest of your life shooting womp rats?"
"I mean, I wouldn't hate it if you did thatā"
"Well then, you're welcome to hire me, but unless you have all the beskar of Mandalore hiding under that skirt, you can't afford me for a job of that magnitude."
Din stepped out onto the sands, washed red with the light of the setting suns. He eyed the speeder bike he'd arrived on. It wasn't big enough to carry all the water. He'd have to re-evaluate.
Luke stumbled after him as Din re-entered the cave, grabbing the rapidly cooling slavers body and hefting it onto his shoulders.
Din ignored Luke's frustrated huffs. Tried to, anyway. Luke didn't want to be ignored.
"What about basic decency?" He demanded.
"I'm not a decent person. I'm a bounty hunter."
That seemed to give him pause, but he quickly regained his wits and caught up to Din. "What about your conscience? Andāand personal responsibility?"
"I killed your most immediate problem" āDin waved the dead slaver's arm to underscore the pointā "and gave you an action plan. And my cape. My conscience is clear."
Din walked over to the bike, dumping the slaver's corpse onto the sand. Showing the Tuskens proof that the one who'd run off with their stolen water was dead should suffice. Especially once he told them where to find said water so they could collect it and whatever else they wanted from the slaver's belongings. Probably would prefer that, anyway.
"Take me with you."
Din turned to stare. Luke stood firm. His lip was quivering, but his chin was lifted in challenge. Interesting.
"Excuse me?"
"You say I can't stay here, but I have no way off this rock!"
"Sorry kidā"
"I'll pull my weight! I'm an excellent mechanic, a great shot, and an even better pilot!" He paused. "And I'm not a kid! I just turned 18 standard, so I'm an adult now, officially. And if you go by Tatooine years, technically I'm even olderā"
He had seen Luke's age, in fact, on the identity contract. His birthday had only just passed; it had probably been the reason Luke had been out drinking. The reason heād been captured in the first place.
Din could use a mechanic; he wasn't a taxi service, but he could consider them even if Luke got his landing gear to shift more efficiently. He could refashion space in the cargo hold as a temporary berth, expand his food budget slightlyā¦
The fact that he was even considering this meant he'd probably been away from the covert too long.
"At least take me to the spaceport," Luke begged. "I can't exactly walk there."
He wiggled his toes in the sand; walking barefoot across the sands was a death sentence in itself.
This was why Din didn't do freebies. It never ended with just one thing.
He ran through some quick calculations, adjustments heād have to make to his plan.
The smart thing would be to leave him behind. But Din knew about desert justice; you don't leave behind those you can help.
Besides all that, Luke was right; he had no chance of survival without a way to get off the planet. Din had already done this much to help; he might as well follow through and finish what he'd started.
"Fine. I'll give you a lift. But we have to make a short stop on the way."
Luke's shoulders slumped in relief.
"Thank you."
"I told you: don't thank me." Din hopped on the speeder, dead slaver tossed across his lap. "Get on."
"That bike can't carry three," Luke warned, but climbed on behind Din.
The speeder groaned under their combined weight, which didn't bode well for carrying Din, Luke, and the Water Thief all the way to Mos Espa. Din would probably have to loop back around to get his bounty off the Tuskens once he had his shipā
Though whether or not he'd have time with his runaway cargo was up for debate.
It was fine. He'd make it work. The Crest was faster than a speeder, anyway.
"We don't have far to go. And you're small."
Whatever protests Luke might've had were swallowed up by the engine revving, giving a loud groan at the heavy burden.
Ā
Before long, Din saw the telltale banthas milling about on the dunes. Luke must have seen them tooāDin felt him freeze up, hands gripping Din tightly around his waist.
"Uh, Mr. Bounty Hunter?ā he squeaked. āWe've got trouble."
"That's not trouble. That's who we're meeting."
"That's not as reassuring an answer as you think it is."
Luke was clearly about to bail, shoes or not, but the Tuskens waved them over.
As predicted, they were more than satisfied with the dead body of the slaver and access to whatever Din had left for them to find.
They even threw in three ingots of beskar they'd liberated from some wandering imperials. Din decided not to ask about the particulars; he didn't have time for a good story.
The problem was, while Din had been off being charitable, the Tuskens had killed Din's bounty. He'd read the writing on the wall and tried to escape, apparently.
He was worth about only two thirds dead, but at least Din was saved the trouble of wrangling him back to the Crest. A cut off a finger as proof of death was more than enough, plus his boots and clothing for the trouble he'd put them all through. The dead didn't 't mind; The Tuskens didn't mind, either.
With a 'nice doing business with you' and a 'until we meet again', the Tuskens were on their way, disappearing beyond the dunes.
Din tossed the clothes to Luke.
"Might be a bit rank, but better than what you're wearing."
Luke stared at them numbly. Maybe the tranq was still in his system.
"Unless you'd rather roll into town dressed like that."
Luke rolled his eyes, but whatever mood had taken him was gone.
"I can't believe that just happened," Luke said, pulling on the clothes. "Sand people don't negotiate."
"Sure they do. You just have to speak their language."
"How do you even know it?ā Luke squinted. āAre you a sand person under all that armor?"
Din sighed.
"Hurry up. Time is short."
Luke jolted back into action.
"Are you sure we can't swing by my aunt and uncle's farm?"
Din was sure. But keeping Luke talking was the key to keeping him moving.
"Where is it?"
"On the other side of Mos Eisley. Close to Anchorhead."
"Too far. We're headed to Mos Espa. Make your peace with surviving."
Luke nodded, gaze cast to the ground.
"I've been gone long enough by now that I'm sure they already assume the worst, anywayā¦"
Din sighed. Again. He had a feeling he would be sighing a lot. "We can find a way to contact them later, alright? But now, we survive."
Lukeās head snapped up, eyes gleaming hopefully in the moonsā light. "You would do that? Wait. Why would you do that?"
"Well, thanks to my mark here being dead, some space just opened up on my ship."
"Then you meanā¦I can come with you?" He beamed. "You really mean it?"
The idea had crystalized between leaving the slaver behind and coming here. There really wouldn't be a point in just taking Luke to the next closest planet, or the next system.
As long as he had that chip, he was at risk of being captured again. So until they found a way to remove it, or one of them died, or Luke got sick of living with a bounty hunter, he might as well keep him around.
It wasn't as though as ship as old as the Crest wasn't in constant need of repairs. Having a live-in mechanic could only be a good thing.
āYou ask too many questions," Din said as he leaned against the speeder, gesturing Luke to continue dressing. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.ā
"It's not my fault you're so mysterious!" Luke accused.
He pulled on one boot, then the other. They fit snugly up to his knees. Lucky. Usually clothing pilfered off dead bodies didn't fit so well.
"It would be a waste of the effort I've put into saving you if I leave you behind."
"Well, we wouldn't want you to waste any effort, would we," Luke mumbled, mostly to himself.
He zipped up the jacket. It was well made. Nice, evenāweather resistant, interior pockets, lapped seams. The burnt orange color suited him.
With a resolute nod, he faced Din, handing the cloak back.
"I'll earn my keep," he promised. "You won't regret it."
"You might. It won't be comfortable," Din warned.
"Life on Tatooine is uncomfortable, I'm sure I can manage."
"Are you okay with killing?"
"As long as they deserve it."
"Sometimes food is scarceā¦"
He pointed to himself. "Again, desert rat."
"People will probably shoot at you sometimes by association."
"Better than being a slave."
Well. There was no arguing with that.
Din threw his leg over the seat. "Welcome to the crew."
Luke cautiously approached.
āMy name is Luke, by the way. Luke Skywalker.ā
āI know.ā
āOh.ā He scuffed his new(ish) boots in the sand. "Can I have your name, too, Captain?"
Din mustāve gotten soft, somewhere between battle droids and leaving Ran's crew. In the past, no one would have dared speak to him like this.
"Mando is fine."
"Captain Mando?"
"Just Mando."
"Kind of a strange nameāoh, unless it's not a name?"
"It's not."
"Oh. Is it a title?"
Din stared at the desert rat he'd just made himself responsible for. How could he not know?
"It's short for Mandalorian, which is what I am."
"Oh." Luke nodded, hair flopping into his face. He climbed onto the speeder behind Din, holding on tight. "What's a Mandalorian?"
Din was definitely going to be sighing a lot.
With a squeeze of the clutch and a twist of the throttle, they were off, roaring across the sands, freedom on the horizon and death on their heels.
G.
A rhythmic purr rumbled from the pilot dash while Din let the engines idle; waiting for take-off and landing clearance was the worst part of using official star ports.
The best part, of course, was not having unexpected guests waiting in your cargo hold waiting for you.
Tika didn't always purr, though whether that was from age or temperament, he wasn't sure. According to the droid specialists he'd taken her to, the inconsistent purring was neither a good or bad sign. It was the lights you had to watch out for.
Speaking of, Din eyed the purple lights warily; stasis sleep, still. As long as the lights were on, it was fine. Apparently.
He wondered whether Luke had seen her when he'd boarded the Crest uninvited.
Doubtful. She wouldn't still be here if he had. Wouldn't still be sleeping.
Then again, Luke had left her behind. Maybe that bond was broken. Maybe he hadnāt cared to lookā
Or had thought Din wouldnāt have kept her.
It was stupid to try to figure out what Luke might have thought or might be thinking. Din had stopped trying to understand that years ago.
After the initial run in after four years of nothing, Din didn't see Luke again for a few weeks, not that he expected to see him again at all.
But if he knew Luke (and he did, despite what heād said), Luke wouldnāt give up so easily. Heād said as much, after all, and he was stubborn as any desert rat.
There were signs of Luke around, if Din cared to look for themāhe was being followed through crowded markets, busy streets, and bustling cities, the watchful gaze of a hunter following him.
Always hunter and prey.
It was familiar, despite how long it had been. A game they used to play, for training and for fun.
Din always shook his tail, but it wasnāt always easy. He'd trained Luke himself in the art of following someone undetected, mostly because Luke always insisted on coming along no matter what. It had been easier to convince Luke to do it safely than to not do it at all. The point was, Luke was well-trained and determined. Clever, too; Din often had to get creative to escape Luke.
If it had been anyone else, he might have confronted them. But it wasnāt anyone else; it was Luke. Confrontation was the last thing Din wanted. Once had been enough.
For now, the fact that Din had more experience losing someone tracking him than Luke had tracking was helping him avoid said confrontation, but that didn't make it easy.
These days, Din found it was well worth it to pay a dock fee at space ports to ensure a quick departure. Or quick enough; he was still waiting for take-off clearance.
A few times, he saw Luke out of the corner of his eye, following Din while he hunted. A patient hunter knows when to wait, and when to attack.
Clearly, he remembered his lessons.
Din didn't exactly blend in, given the Beskar and his presence as a Mandalorian. People perceived Din as a threat. Dangerous. Which he was, when he wanted to be.
People's eyes darted away from Din because no one wanted a Mandalorian to catch them staring.
With Luke, people's eyes passed over him like his presence didn't even register. He gave off the impression that people would notice him if he wanted them to.
Luke looked the same, but different. Older. Less carefree. He also dressed differently. Din hadn't given it much thought on the Razor Crest when he'd last seen him, but Luke seemed to exclusively wear black these days. Black trousers, black tunic, black boots, black robe. Except for the shirt lining his tunic and the sash on his waistā both red, with blue triangles embroidered on the end of the sash. The closer he looked, the more triangles he saw. Apparently he was still committed to at least the aesthetic of marriage. Or the aesthetic of triangles, at least.
It all appeared tailored to Luke perfectly. High quality, yet simple.
It looked nothing like the practical clothing he used to wear. What he used to wear were clothes he could fix a ship in, or fight in, or blend in with average people anywhere in. Always with as many bright colors as he could find. Usually blue or red.
Gone, too, was the sun-kissed skin and golden hair Luke used to sport no matter how long it had been since he'd left Tatooine; he soaked up the sun on every planet they visited.
Now, Luke had the palor of someone who spent his days in hyperspace lanes and kept his face hidden from the sun, his hair the sort of brown that blonde hair turned without constant sun exposure.
It made sense, perhaps; from the brief glimpses of him that Din got, Luke nearly always had his hood up, always sticking to shadows or out-of-the way corners where he he disappear between one blink and the next.
Din's armor was his identity, his weapon, his defense. There was a purpose to every piece.
He wondered what purpose Luke's new clothing served, what identity it projected. He certainly didn't look like the rebel hero of Yavin IV.
If he asked, Luke would probably tell him.
Instead of asking, Din avoided. It wasn't running away, he told himself. It wasnāt brave, either. But it was smart. There was no armor around Din's heart. Luke had never worn armor, after all.
Well. With one notable exception. He didnāt wear it anymore, though.
Heād always claimed he didnāt need armor; that it served him better to be underestimated. Heād been right, for the most part. Or so Din assumed.
He could ask, he could know. But a sated curiosity wasnāt worth the price of his dignity.
He adjusted the handkerchief around Tika, securing her in place. It would be just his luck if she fell during take off, woke up, and decided to make his life hell again.
"Razor Crest, you are cleared for take-off," came the message from the Tower. Finally.
Tika's triangle ears flashed twiceāblue, redāthen cycled down to purple again, though the purring ceased. Not dead then, or whatever the appropriate term was for a droid.
As he took off from yet another planet, yet another missed encounter, yet another fruitless bounty, he considered whether this was some kind of cosmic punishment. He didnāt really believe in that sort of thing; luck, good or bad, was a fickle thing. It couldnāt be trained, relied on, or used as a weapon.
Even so, the fact that he always walked away from chance non-encounters with Luke without a bountyā¦
It wasnāt bad luck. But clearly, Din was distracted. Off his game. The fact that it was affecting his work, affecting what he did for the covertā
Unacceptable.
The next time he saw Luke, he wouldnāt run away. Running showed weakness. He could face Luke again; he just wouldnāt say anything.
2.
"So what is Mandalorianism, exactly?" Luke asked one day, about two weeks after they first met and began their strange partnership.
Din didnāt think Luke had intentionally waited until they were both elbow-deep in wires, drifting in deep space where neither of them could escape literally or metaphorically.
But. The fact was, Din was elbow-deep in wires, stuck in deep-space, trying to rewire a fried circuit with Lukeās assistance, neither of them able to escape the situation. Or the conversation.
Luke was exactly as good at flying as he promised. He was less good as a mechanic, but good enough. Better than Din, anyway.
He was also insatiably curious.
With a sigh, Din untangled a wire from a panel.
"Don't call it Mandalorianism."
āWhat do you call it?" asked Luke, tongue poking out as he did something with a soldering iron that made sparks fly.
"We donāt call it anything. I am Mandalorian."
"Ok, but what does that mean?" Luke peeked his head over his shoulder, watching Din calibrate the panel. āNot all of us have traveled to the far reaches of the galaxy, you know.ā
"Mandalorians are warriors. The best in the galaxy."
"So Mando is like a title, sort of."
"No." Din jerked another sparking wire out of the panel. "To be a Mandalorian is to swear a creed. It's a..." Din paused, searching for the right word in Basic. "It's a religion," he settled on.
It wasn't perfect, but he'd heard it described that way before.
Luke grabbed one the sparking wires and did something with it to make it not spark. He seemed satisfied enough with it, so Din wouldn't complain.
"So, shooting people is a religious experience for you?"
Din briefly closed his eyes, turning to the next panel. "Weapons are part of my religion, yes.ā
"Is there a Mando god, or a pantheon?"
He looked Luke over carefully, searching for signs of deception, the laugh waiting behind the questions.
Din saw only curiosity. He had no reason to doubt Lukeās sincerity, but a small part of him was relieved. It wouldnāt be the first time someone had asked Din questions about his creed in order to mock him more specifically.
A certain set of lavender Twi'leks came to mind.
But genuine curiosity was a good thingāa trait to be encouraged. Din wanted Luke to know these things about him. It wouldā¦improve their cohesion as a unit. Probably.
It had been a strange two weeks, trying to adjust. The fact that Luke had waited this long to ask was honestly impressive.
"There used to be Gods. Two of them," he said. āOver time, they became irrelevant. Now, we follow the ResolānareāThe Six Actions. But more important than that, we walk the Path of the Mandāalor. We call it the Way. Haar Manda.ā4
āHaar Manda?ā Luke repeated.
Well. Not the worst pronunciation Din had ever heard.
Luke continued to ask him quiet, thoughtful questions while they fixed the wiresāwhat are the six actions, what is The Way, what happened to the Gods. Din was content to answer them; it was almost like talking to foundlings, with the exception being that Luke was not a child, and certainly not a war orphan.
āAre you sure you should be telling me this?" Luke asked at last, soldering iron all but abandoned.
"You asked," Din pointed out.
"Well, yeah, but all thisā¦sounds kind of secret.ā
āItās not a secret. Anyone can become a Mandalorian. Itās a choice, and an informed one at that.ā he paused. āIf we are to work together, Iād rather you know.ā
"Well, as long as you won't get in trouble," Luke joked, nudging Din with his elbow playfully. āIs there anything I should know then? Things I shouldnāt say or doā¦ā
āIt wouldnāt be a very good religion if it tried to place restrictions on those who donāt follow it.ā
āSo you donāt have any hard rules in your religion? That doesnāt seem so rigid.ā
Din hummed. āWe do have one rule. Itās absolute.ā
Luke leaned in closer, lowering his voice. āWhat is it?ā
āYou can never take off the helmet or have it removed by someone else.ā
Luke fiddled with his hands. "You can never take it off?"
"Never."
"And if you do?"
"You can never put it on again."
The panel sparked again, humming back to life and making sure they werenāt, in fact, stranded in deep space. Not that Din had been worried.
Luke still cheered like heād won a podracing bet.
ā ā ā
A few days later, Luke had another question. While Din was preparing morning meal, no less, and not firing on all cylinders.
"So you sleep in the helmet?"
"Not usually."
āSo āneverā doesnāt mean ānever neverā, justā¦almost never?ā
Din grunted, wondering if repeating words in Basic made them mean different things or if that was just a Luke thing. It didnāt seem like a question Luke needed an answer for, so Din didnāt give him one.
After stewing in silence for a few minutes, Luke asked another question.
"Not even to eat?"
It took Din a moment to process what Luke meant. Din wasnāt much of a morning person unless he had to be.
"No."
"Thenā¦how do you eat?"
Din poured another healthy serving of caf into his mug. Apparently, it was going to be one of those days.
"With my mouth."
"Do you use a straw or something?"
"You've seen me cook."
"But not eat. I mean, I know not every species eats the humanoid way, but stillā¦"
Ah.
Finally, Din understood what the question really was.
"I take it off to sleep, and eat, and wash."
"That's goodā¦but I understand even less now. You said never."
"Never in the presence of others.ā
That was the standard answer Din usually gave.
But nothing about this situation was usual.
āExcept for Clan."
Luke's eyes lit up like a sun peaking over the horizon.
"Who counts as Clan?"
That was a difficult question to answer. Din himself had never fully grasped the concept. The Armorer was his leader, but she wasnāt solely his. His master had been only Dinās for a time, but that had always been a temporary relationship; once it was deemed that Din was ready, they were as any other two individuals in the covert. Dinās master had other foundlings to teach, to prepare, to raise, and Din had a job to do as the Covert's beroya. Din wasnāt the first and would never be the last.
His parents were gone, and Din didnāt have siblings. He had comrades, brethren, his covert, but he didnāt have a Clan. Not the kind he could remove his helmet in front of, anyway.
He didnāt know how to explain all that in a simple way to Luke, though, so he went with the simplest explanation he could. Even if it werenāt complete.
"Spouses and children."
"What about your parents?"
"They areā¦marching far away.ā
āOn a trip?ā
Din didnāt dignify that with a response, letting the silence speak for him as he often did.
āOh,ā said Luke. āIām sorry.ā
āIt was a long time ago.ā It was too early for this kind of conversation, in Dinās opinion. Heād just as soon not talk about it, though. āBut yes, they are Clan."
It had been a fantasy heād entertained often in the early days. What if his parents had survived? Heād imagined what it would be like: finding them, calling out to them, being recognized immediately, even with the helmet.
Heād asked the Armorer, once, what would happen if he found his parents alive one day. She hadnāt been unkind. Sheād told him the truth: they hadnāt survived. But if they had, they would still be his parents, and he would still be Mandalorian if he chose to be. Dead or alive, his parents were his parents. His Clan, even if they did not, themselves, swear the creed.
"Mine are gone, too. My parents, I mean. Itās just me and my aunt and uncle.ā He paused just long enough for Din to imagine all the things Luke wasnāt saying. Things like: he only had his aunt and uncle in this life, and heād left them behind.
Luke cleared his throat, somewhere between polite and awkward.
"Do you have children or a spouse?"
Din was almost glad for the change in subject. Almost being a key operative.
"What do you think?"
"Right.ā Luke sighed forlorn into his caf. āDo you want either?"
"I haven't thought about it."
He must have answered too quickly, because Luke just chuckled, almost indulgently.
"Are you sure about that?ā he teased.
Din idly swirled his caf around his cup, wondering if it was too late to go back to sleep and pretend this conversation never happened.
No, that wouldn't work. Unless he told Luke either the answer to the question or said he didn't want to talk about it, Luke would just ask again.
"If it happens, it happens."
"Marriage doesn't just happen, Mando!" Luke laughed, though not in a mean way. "Children don't either."
āSometimes they do, for Mandalorians. Battlefield marriages are not unheard of. And post-battle adoptions."
āOh.ā Luke sobered up somewhat, expression thoughtful. āDoes that happen often?ā
Din shrugged.
āMandalorians live in the moment. It is the only thing thatās certain.ā
āI guess it is,ā Luke agreed, watching Din carefully.
ā ā ā
Din had thought that would be the end of the questions, but he should have known better.
"What if I put on a blindfold?ā Luke asked a few days later. āJust while we eat. So I couldn't see your face or anything."
Din wouldnāt say he was getting tired of the questions, exactly, but they had been rather one-track lately. It wasnāt the first time someone had asked him a lot of questions about his helmet and removing itāXi'an came to mind especiallyābut usually the questions were meaner.
Lukeās questions didnāt seem mean, or cajoling. But they wereā¦persistent.
"It's not about whether you can see my face, it's the act of removing my helmet that matters."
"What if your head is hurt?" Luke fired back immediately.
Din narrowed his eyes. Xiāan had always been looking for loopholes, excuses, what-if-scenarios to excuse removing his helmet. Can I take it off if youāre bleeding out? What about if we get ejected out the airlock and have to share air? What if, how about, imagine this.
He didnāt think this was the same, but it was nothing Din hadnāt heard before.
āMy helmet is made precisely so nothing happens to my head."
Luke blinked at him, eyes wide. āSurely your life is more important than your creed.ā
"Better to die than to become dar'manda.
"What does that mean? Darāmanda?"
Din didnāt think there were enough words in the entirety of Basic to explain what it meant. If there were, Din didn't know them.
But a simple explanation could suffice for now.
"Dar'manda meansā¦traitor. But worse."
"Worse?"
"A traitor to yourself, your community, your ancestors. It means to forsake theā¦the soul."
Din was sure that wasnāt an adequate explanation, but some things were beyond words.
He struggled for a moment, grasping for the words to explain it. Heād never cared to explain to anyone before, but this feltā¦
Important. In a way explaining himself rarely did.
āMy helmet, myĀ creed, is not a restriction to me, it'sā¦just a part of me."
"Oh." Luke chewed on his lip, visibly weighing whatever it was he wanted to say next.
Din sighed. "Just say it."
"Iām sorry for all the questions, I donāt mean to pry," Luke said sincerely, "I just feelā¦guilty, I guess."
"Guilty?"
Luke turned away, staring at the control panel he was rewiring without seeming to actually see it. "You can't take your helmet off because I'm here. I just wanted toā¦be accomodating."
Din couldn't remember the last person who'd ever tried to be accomodating for Din in any way. He couldn't name a single person who wasn't part of his covert.
"I wouldn't walk around my ship without my helmet even if you weren't here."
"You wouldnāt?"
"No. Because this is who I am.ā
Luke watched him, waiting as if he knew Din wanted to explain more.
"This is who I am. Because this?" He held a fist over the beskarāta6 on his chest. āThis was a choice I made. The most important one of my life.ā
H.
Luke faced him again on Arvala 5, after a quarter of a year playing scurrier and tooka. Whether that was because he'd gotten better at tracking Din or he'd decided enough time had passed that Din might be less angry, Din couldn't say.
Din didn't even get the chance to run away this time. Luke was waiting for him in the landing bay, cloaked in black and shadow.
Sure, Din could have turned around, gotten back on his ship and left. But he had a job to do here.
Besides, hadn't he decided he wasn't going to avoid Luke anymore?
This was fine.
"Hello, Mando," Luke said, smiling as ever. Well, not as ever. Muted.
He'd always been careful to avoid using Din's name where someone could overhear. Perhaps this was a show then, that he understood and respected boundaries.
To a point, anyway.
He should have thought of that before inviting himself onto the Razor Crest in the middle of the forest after creating a fake bounty to get Din to his location and following him around half the galaxy.
"I didn't get to say it last time, but the new paint on your Beskāarmor looks good," Luke continued. He glanced briefly at Dinās gauntlets, smile softening. He'd noticed, because of course he had. What was still there. "You wear it well."
Din said nothing, resigned to Luke following him. Din had an actual bounty to catch this time, and he wasn't going to let whatever Luke had planned stop him from catching his prey.
The only thing he did say to Lukeāen route since Luke wouldn't stay putāwas that if Luke got in the way, Din wouldn't hesitate to shoot. Luke smiled and promised to stay out of the way, just like Old Times.
Just like Old Times, Luke followed, despite Din's wishes that he'd stay behind. Or go away in this case.
Just like Old Times, Luke kept trying to strike up a casual conversation while Din was working.
Just like Old Times, he refused to be discouraged.
"Did you find the credits I stached in the weapons locker? I did promise you'd get paid, but a little extra for fuel costs never hurts, right?"
To Luke's credit, Din had gotten paid for the non-existent bounty. Din had also, somehow, gotten recognition from the guild for bringing the non-existent bounty in. Luke's doing, no doubt.
That didn't excuse the whole set-up, though.
"I had to cash in a pretty good favor to get the necessary introduction to create that fake bounty, you know. It won't go against your record, in case you were worried about that."
Din switched his scanner to a different channel. He was on the right track. The bounty likely wasn't anticipating a bounty hunter. They rarely did.
Luke's careful buoyancy deflated just a bit. "You know, it would be easier to talk about this if you'd actually talk to meāHey, don't make that face at me!"
Din glared at him through the visor. Luke had always been able to tell what expressions Din was making, even through the helmet.
"I shouldn't even be looking at you, much less conversing," said Din. Admitting what he shouldnāt do was as good as confessing that he was, but there was no use denying it.
After all, ignoring Luke had gotten him nowhere, now that he deigned to be part of Dinās life again.
"Why not?"
"How much mando'a do you remember?" Din asked, unable to stop himself. He shouldn't talk to Luke, but Luke was still a weak spot for him. Unprotected, unarmed, ures beskarāgam.7
"I remember it all. I never stopped practicing."
Is that supposed to make me happy, Din wondered. He ducked under a low-hanging basket, resisting the urge to bat it out of the way. "Then do you remember what dar'manda means?"
Luke's sigh told Din he did remember.
"I technically never swore the creed, though I've continued to follow the Resolānare," he said, lightly, "so I'm not an apostate."
"No, I suppose you arenāt." Perhaps then it was alright to talk to Luke. Perhaps Din wasn't straying from his creed by acknowledging Luke. Not anymore than he already had, anyway. "You're just aruetii, then. Is that what you prefer?"
It must be. He'd chosen it.
"Do you mean 'outsider' or 'traitor'?"
Din didnāt answer. Anything he might say would reveal too much.
"Look, Dinā¦I don't expect forgiveness, but you deserve an explanation."
Privately, Din agreed that he deserved an explanation. He'd wanted one for so long.
But he'd also said the rites of remembrance for over a year. He'd worn the gray of mourning. He'd searched every corner of the galaxy, unwilling to believe that Luke would disappear without saying a word.
When the fact had made itself known that Luke had disappeared of his own volition without saying a word, Din hadn't known what to think. How to feel.
It was clear what had happened: Luke had joined the Rebellion. The why was less clear, though Din could guess at that, too.
Luke had a big heart. He'd often spoken to Din about wanting to do more, about serving a higher cause. Din had always said fighting the Empire was a fool's errand, and even if it wasn't, finding the rebellion was more trouble than it was worth.
Din figured Luke had found a way to join, and hadn't looked back.
He did wonder why Luke had sought him out now. The war was still ongoing, despite the apparent death of the Emperor. Luke was supposedly a big shot hero twice over. Surely he had more important places to be than chasing his recalcitrant husband.
But Din had long ago made peace with a lack of answers. He didn't need to know. He could and had, by necessity, survived without answers long enough to understand that knowing wouldn't help.
"I don't want an explanation," Din lied. "If you were who I thought I knew, you wouldn't have left in the way that you did."
"I can understand why you think that," said Luke, eyes piercing and earnest, "but I'd hoped you'd at least hear me out."
Ever hopeful. Apparently the war hadn't taken that from Luke. Not entirely.
"I have work to do," Din grit out, pushing past Luke.
Luke, graciously, did not point out that Din hadn't shot him like he'd promised he would if Luke got in the way. He did, however, stop talking.
Good, Din thought.
He'd lived almost five years without the sound of Luke's voice filling his days. He certainly didn't need it distracting him now.
So, Din continued his hunt, falling back into the comfort of routine. It wasn't difficult to locate his quarryāArvala 5 was a terrible place for a criminal to hide. Its nickname was 'the farmer's market'.
Luke had begged Din to come here, once. Din had planned to take Luke for their anniversary.
But then Luke had left, and all his plans had changed.
What an inconvenient time to remember something long since forgotten.
Ā
The good news was that it didn't take long to locate his bounty. Whether that was because his bounty wasn't hiding or because Din was more motivated than usual due to his unwanted sidekick, Din didn't care to speculate.
He was here to do a job, and that was that.
There, lounging at a caf shop without a care in the world, was his bounty. A Mon Cala bail jumper.
Din had his routine down pat. Place the bounty puck on the nearest flat surface. Turn it on. Wait for them to deny it was them. Show the tracker. Pull out his blaster. Say the line. Cuff 'em and wait for the eventual escape attempt. Bring them in cold.
This bounty was playing out like every single one before this. Din trained his blaster on the bounty. Time for the next step.
"I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."
He heard Luke snort at Dinās lineāDin still preferred to give his bounties the chance to come willingly, even if they nearly always ended up in carbonite, anyway.
True to his word, Luke didnāt get in the way. He did decide to use his sway as a "war hero" to "help", however.
"You don't want to fight," Luke said calmly. "You want to come quietly."
"You're Luke Skywalker," the bounty replied, starstruck.
"I am," Luke said with a small smile. "Now, you'll come quietly, won't you?"
"I want to come quietly," the bounty said in a daze, holding his hands up for Din to cuff.
Luke beamed at Din, pleased as anything.
"Just like old times," he said.
It wasn't anything like old times at all, but Din was starting to think he'd had the right idea before about not talking to Luke. Clearly talking only encouraged him.
Wordlessly, Din fixed the cuffs to the mon cala.
"It won't last long," Luke told Din apologetically, "but hopefully once he realizes he's already on the ship, he won't fight."
"Doubtful," said Din, then cursed himself for responding. He marched the unresisting bounty to his ship.
Luke beamed where he stood on the tarmac, watching Din with pride. Just like old times.
"This was fun. We should do it again," he called after Din, like they'd planned to meet up like this. "See you next time. Stay alive."
Din didnāt say goodbye. He didn't even look back.
If it were the old times, Luke would be climbing aboard next to Din, ready to take off to the next destination. This was, definitively, not like Old Times, no matter what Luke wanted to pretend.
Din wasn't even disappointed when the bounty started trying to bargain his way out of his situation. At least bounties were dependable to never change.
3.
"This bar makes Chalmun's look like a place for decent folks," Luke mumbled, sliding into the booth next to Din.
Din crossed his arms and leaned back, evaluating Luke. He had some kind of glowing blue drink with fruit in it. He'd at least had the sense to wear a hood, but it was the most minimal effort of identity concealment.
"What are you doing here?"
Luke held up his drink, as if that explained his presence.
"I thought I told you to wait on the ship."
Din, in fact, distinctly remembered saying that.
āThis planet used to have a robust slave network,ā heād said, pulling into the space port.
Luke had peered at the window, eyeing the driving rain with interest. āWhat happened?ā
āThis planetās original biome was a desert, until the slavers terraformed it to be more like the jungle and beach planet they came from.ā
āAnd?ā
āIt only took them a century to forget that Quarren can breathe underwater. Hard to maintain control of people who can outlast you at the bottom of the ocean you made for your beach vacations.ā
āI canāt exactly do that,ā Luke had pointed out.
āNo, but thatās also just a story. The point is, they might be sympathetic to your situation and be willing to help you out.
āItās also a backwater skughole filled with people willing to rip you off just because they can, so stay on the ship until I figure out which sort of person weāre dealing with.ā
āUnderstood,ā Luke had said, giving Din a salute.
Din had believed that would be the end of it. He liked explaining things; his own mentor had made sure to give Din a succinct explanation of the history of each planet they visited and how it could be important. Every fact is a tool, Din. Remember that.
Heād been optimistic about this job, when it came to finding a solution to Lukeās transmitter chip. His plan had been to build up social currency to win the right favors to find someone who might have access to a de-chipping droid, while Luke stayed safe on the ship.
But here Luke was. Sipping on a fruit drink in the bar, not safe and not following the plan.
"I heard that, I did," he said, "but I've been stuck on the ship for almost two weeks now! I just wanted to stretch my legs."
"Consider them stretched." Din jerked his head. "Go back to the Crest."
"C'mon, Mando, I can hā"
Whatever token protest Luke was about to put up, Din cut him off: His contact was here. It would raise unnecessary speculation to see Din send someone away before the meeting.
Better to act like this was the plan all along.
"Just sit quietly and try not to look soā¦"
"So what?" Luke said with a smile, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Din considered some of the few but powerful words available to him to describe how Luke looked.
"Credulous."
That made the smile drop, replaced with a scowl.
Not a moment too soon, either; Din's client slid into the booth across from them. "Thank you for meeting me so quickly. Now, here's the jobā"
Fortunately, Luke didn't say anything during the meeting, as per Din's request. He sat there and sulked.
Din dared to hope the client had completely overlooked Luke's presence, but nothing could be that convenient.
"You'll have to split the share between you, I'm not paying double just 'cause there's two of you."
"He's not a bounty hunter," Din said.
"No? What is he, then?"
"The credulous one," Luke mumbled.
The client tilted his head. Quarren expressions were hard to read, but if Din had to guess, he didn't know what credulous meant.
"A charm for wealth, I suppose," he said, standing up. "I'll pay 10% extra if you get it done before the next moon phase. Should be easy for a Mandalorian."
Only a two day time limit? Easy. Maybe the quarren was the credulous one.
Still, it was a bad look to boast, so Din did what he always did and said nothing. It was something his mentor had taught him: let your reputation speak for itself.
With a nod and a mumbled excuse, the client scurried off, disappearing into the crowd.
Luke watched him go before turning to Din.
"He wasn't being honest. Something about this is fishy."
"Of course he wasn't being honest," Din grunted. "No one who hires a bounty hunter is."
"I don't like it. Why does he want it done quickly?"
"I'm paid not to ask questions." He turned to look at Luke. How had he known to look for dishonesty?
"What are you looking at?"
"Just wondering how much they overcharged you for that drink." Din stood up. "Hurry up."
Ā
As it turned out, the Quarren had been dishonest; he wanted it done in two days or fewer because that was when the arbitration period on an old tax law ended. Din didnāt care about the intricacies of it; taxes were one thing the outer rim didnāt have much of.
He got the gist of it though, and the gist of it was: quite a lot of money was riding on a timely capture of the clientās biggest potential competitor.
Still, Din got the bounty turned over in the given time period and was duly rewarded.
"I don't understand," Luke said at the end. "The mark was offering double what your client did, just to wait a couple days. Why didn't you wait?"
āHe made that offer before I dragged him back to the ship."
Din left his actual question unsaid: how did you know he made that offer?
He didn't need to ask; he had a pretty good idea exactly how Luke knew. Luke, after all, had handed over a recording of the bribe, which the Quarren had been thrilled about. Apparently, it would be excellent in his lawsuit against the mark.
But there was only one way Luke could have gotten that recording.
"Look, don't be mad, okay? I followed just in case you needed help," Luke admitted at last. "At a healthy distance!"
"You can be a help by staying on the ship."
"But if I'd stayed on the ship, who would have recorded the mark trying to bribe you?"
Well. It had been useful. Even soā¦
"Marks often try to bribe me. I've learned to tune them out. No matter how much they offer, there's one thing credits can't buy: reputation."
āAnd what good is that?ā
Din held out a chip with tracking coordinates. āIt got us a meeting with someone who might be able to help remove that thing in your neck.ā
āOh.ā
āYou can always get more credits,ā Din said, sticking the chip in the on-board computer and following the path. āBut a ruined reputation is a hard thing to repair.ā
Luke stared out the window, watching the ocean pass by beneath them.
āTatooine used to be an ocean planet, you know. A long, long time ago, but they say the sands never forget. Still, itās hard to imagine it as anything but a desert.ā
Din did, in fact, know that. The Tuskens often told tales of their Ocean Planet.
āWhen youāre dying of dehydration, thereās little difference between a sea of sand and a sea of saltwater.ā
I.
Din didnāt much care for ice planets. Nothing but bad memories where the cold was concerned.
This wasnāt quite as bad as Alzoc iiiānotably because there was no Ran, no Xi'an, and no Qinābut it brought back the days when heād been nothing but angry with something to prove.
The worst memories of Alzoc iii werenāt the ones about the fallout or the mission gone wrong. It wasnāt even what heād had to doāwhich, though distasteful, had been necessary. It had been Xiāan and Qin, double-teaming him with flirting and suggestive comments.
If we get frozen in this cave, weāll have to strip down and share body warmth to survive, Mando.
Would you rather die and keep your modesty, Mando?
You know, some people say the twin twiālek experience is to die for, Mandoā
Heād almost been glad when those pirates had shown up on snow speeders. Stealing their bikes had almost certainly doomed them to die, but even as an impetuous young man, Din hadnāt cared much for pirates.
Din hadnāt known it then, but it was the beginning of the end of his partnership with Ranās crew. It was shortly after that when he discovered that everything Paz had ever said about them was true; that they werenāt his friends, and that it was betterāsaferāto go it alone.
So. Frozen planets were not Dinās favorite. But here he was, back on a frozen planet. At least it wasnāt Alzoc iii.
On the other hand, this planet was much worse. So far from everything even the Empire had all but abandoned it.
It was exactly the kind of place a high profile bounty would hide. It was also the last place Din would ever have expected to run into his wayward partner.
Which was why Din was more shocked than angry to walk into the speeder station and see Luke sitting at a burning stove, chatting with a talz.
Din almost turned around right then and there and left. He couldnāt even claim that Luke had followed him here, because Luke had been here first.
Unfortunately, Din really needed a high profile bounty in order to get more high profile bounties. He couldnāt afford to walk away, literally.
As if attuned directly to Dinās presence, Lukeās head snapped up, gaze meeting Dinās. He gave a small smile and a wave, saying something to the talz and jogging over.
āI wasnāt expecting to see you here,ā he said, pulling his robe more tightly around him. āWhat brings you to Orto Plutonia?ā
āThe same thing that brings me to every planet,ā Din grumbled.
āRight. A contract, then?" Luke tilted his head, carrying on as if they hadn't spent the past four years apart. "I can ask my friends if theyāve seen anyone suspicious. Not much of a criminal element here as far as I'm awareā¦ā
āNot much of anything here.ā Din crossed his arms. He wanted to ask what Luke was doing here, but he had a feeling if he did, Luke would give him an answer and then some. āYou have friends here?ā
āThe Rebellion spent some time here during the war. Itās my favorite of the frozen wastelands we hid in.ā
Din was fairly certain that was a joke. āRight.ā
āNow that the war is officially over,ā Luke paused, as though he himself couldn't quite believe it, āI came to make sure there werenāt any Imps hiding here, still bothering them.ā
As he talked, Din reconsidered taking Luke up on his offer, allowing him to explainā¦well. Everything he wanted to. Maybe then they could have closure, move on. End it all officially.
Then again, doing that here and now meant spending another Manda-forsaken moment longer than he had to here, freezing his beskar off.
Luke was still saying something, trying to draw Din closer to the stove, somewhere warm where they could 'find out more information'.
The problem with Luke was that he was too easy to be with. Too easy to fall back into old patterns with, to talk to. To let him back in.
But the fact that Luke had friends even on this remote ice planet was proof that he had that effect on everyone.
Luke might be special to Din, but that didnāt go both ways.
"What are you trying to accomplish here, Luke?"
Luke hesitated, though at least he didn't try to avoid the real question.
"I hoped that you were ready to talk," he admitted. "Or were willing to work with me, a little."
"What indication have I given that I want to talk to you?"
Din couldn't read his expression through the blizzard, but the slope of his shoulders read resignation.
"If nothing else, I know people here. It's more efficient than trying to win over the locals. Talz areā¦shy beings."
He was right. Din hated that he was right. "This doesn't change anything."
"I know, butā"
"But what?" Din cut in.
Where resignation had set in, determination swept it away.
"You said you don't know me anymore, that I'm not who you thought I was," Luke answered. "But whether that's true or not, don't you want to confirm it?"
The sharp answer was right there, like always. Why would I want that? Why would you?
There was something about the silence on ice planets that had a presence to it. It was empty, but full at the same time. Even standing right next to someone, it felt like there were a million parsecs between each flake of snow.
"I didn't follow you here, you know," Luke continued. "If our paths keep crossingā¦at the very least, I don't want to fight every time."
"I suppose you think it's destiny or something," Din mumbled.
"Would it be so bad if I did?"
Fortunately, Din didnāt have to think about how to answer that; a large person Din was fairly certain was a zabrack threw themself at his feet, gasping, āplease tell me youāre a bounty hunter.ā
They turned their head towards him. That was Din's bounty.
Lacking the composure to speak, Din simply nodded his head.
The zabrack shed tears of joy. āTake me in, Iāll go gladly, just get me the kriff out of here.ā
Din almost felt bad putting them in cuffs, but they seemed fine with it. He didnāt even get to say his warm or cold line, though it felt a bit mean-spirited in this case, anyway.
Luke looked disappointed as Din headed off, as though they'd had an arrangement that was prematurely cut-off.
āYou didn't need my help after all, this time. Until we meet again, Mando,ā he said softly, with a wave. "Stay alive."
The clouds parted for just a moment, casting rays that lit the ground like a field of gems.
As usual on ice planets, it didn't last; at least the skies were honest about the ephemeral nature of things.
Din closed his eyes for just a moment.
āTry not to freeze to death here,ā he said. "No one of the desert deserves to die surrounded by water."
He felt Lukeās eyes on his back as he walked away into the blizzard. Anything else he might have said was swallowed up by the freezing wind.
āDon't look back now, but Iām pretty sure that was the guy who blew up the Death Star,ā said the zabrack, glancing over their shoulder.
Din sighed and hauled them away. The sooner he got out of this ice hell, the better.
5.
After the whole Quarren Incident, Din came to the conclusion that it was unrealistic and, perhaps, unfair to expect Luke to stay on the ship most of the time. He'd assumed that Luke wouldn't want to risk being spotted by slavers, but Luke either liked risk or didn't recognize it.
Still. Doing things off the ship when possible was clearly a priority if Din didnāt want another surprise tag-along while on the job.
It had taken him a little while to arrange getting to a sector where he trusted the markets wouldnāt completely rip them off, but arranged it he had.
There were a few basic things Luke needed, most notably: his own blaster.
Luke, as usual, had other ideas.
"The jawas are great, but this is incredible! Look at all this stuff!" He gushed.
Clearly, he was having the time of his life in the junkyard, marveling over how much there was available.
Din did not share Luke's enthusiasm; this yard was swarming with droids, and Luke was eyeing them with interest.
āYou know,ā Luke continued, āIāve been wondering, but I didnāt want to askā¦ā
Din sighed. āSpit it out."
āOkay. Why donāt you have a droid?ā
Maybe Din should have expected that question. It really should have occurred to Din sooner that Luke, like most people from Tatooine, loved droids. Truly, it was the worst thing about them.
āDonāt need one.ā
āTheyāre useful!" Luke insisted. "They can calculate hyperspace coordinatesāā
āSo can I.ā
āThey can monitor fuel efficiencyāā
āI have a computer for that.ā
āAnd they can keep you company.ā
Din opened his mouth, closed it. āWell, I have you now.ā
Luke looked pleased, but clearly he wasnāt going to drop it.
āOkay, but I havenāt been here that long. Donāt you ever get lonely out there?ā
āNo,ā Din lied.
āWell, Iād like a droid.ā
Luke was handy with mechanics. He probably picked up his skills working on droids. Of course he wanted one.
āWhy?ā
āWhy not? I can do what I want with my wages, canāt I?ā
Din had to make a decision: tell Luke why he didnāt like droids, or let him get one.
He didn't really want to talk about it. And besides, Luke was right. He could do what he wanted with his wages.
āDo what you want," he said, resigned. "But you have to take care of it.ā
āObviously. Itās not like it needs to be fed or cleaned up afterāā
"And it can't be a big one. Space is a commodity."
Luke pursed his lips.
"What do you consider big? An astromech is technically a small one, and there's a port for an R2 unit in the shipāthough I've always liked the TK-9 seriesā"
"No bigger than a tooka."
"What?" Luke frowned. "But Mando, only models for children are that small, except for BD units, maybeā"
"There's no room for anything bigger."
Luke sighed. "Alright. Do you want to come with me to pick one out to see if it's small enough?"
"Absolutely not."
Din would just find Luke a blaster by himself. It was fine.
āāā
Din stared down at the droid Luke held in his hands like precious gems. Din probably should have expected this, but somehow this outcome hadnāt occurred to him.
On oversight on his behalf. One heād have to learn to accept.
Luke held out the small droid, about the exact size of a tooka kitten.
He looked extremely pleased with himself. So did the droid.
"It's a TK-4. A tooka."
It even had triangular sensory arrays on itsā¦head. Clearly the manufacturer enjoyed a good joke.
"What does it do?"
"Well, it originally was supposed to record and deliver messages, but the TK-4s don't alwaysā¦come when called? The TK-9 is more obedient, but they're also much bigger, so I thoughtā" he cut himself off. "I thought I'd keep a personal log to share with my aunt and uncle. The TKs are good at storing a lot of data in a compressed format. Also, I can talk to her so I don't bother you with my questionsā"
"Luke," Din interrupted.
Luke pressed his lips together, face flushed.
"You don't need to convince me. You already got the droid."
"Right." He smiled dimly. "The TK-4 is a personal droid, so they tend to stick with the person they talk to the most. She won't bother you. In case you were worried about that."
Din wasn't convinced, but at least it didn't look big enough to be hiding a rocket launcher anywhere.
"She?"
Luke beamed, eyes practically shining with delight. "Her name is Tika!"
Well. There went any half-formed ideas about 'accidentally' spacing the droid. Not even half a day and Luke was already attached.
Don't name anything you don't plan on keeping, Din, had been a rare piece of advice from the Armorer that until this day, Din had followed to the letter.
She'd been right.
8.
"Did you have a nice time visiting your covert?"
Din sighed fondly, shaking his head as he put down the basket of fruit heād bought.
Luke always asked the same question when Din returned from visiting his covert. This time wasā¦a little different, though.
Heād avoided telling the Armorer about Luke until recently. Considering whatād happened the last time heād allied himself with aruetiseā¦ well. It wouldnāt be worth the tension it would cause if Luke werenāt staying.
But theyād been together for months now, and every time Din offered to take Luke somewhere elseāeven just while Din checked ināLukeās answer was always the same.
I donāt want to go anywhere else.
Din hoped that was trueāLuke was an excellent mechanic. More so now than he had been when Din had picked him up. He knew the Crest inside and out; better than Din by this point, probably.
So Din believed him when he said he didnāt want to go anywhere else. Except home, probably, but that wasn't something they ever talked about.
"āNice timeā isn't how I would put it,ā Din answered, ābut it isā¦grounding to return to them."
"Did you tell them about me?"
This, too, was something Luke asked every time.
For once, Din had a different answer than usual.
"I did."
āYou did?ā Lukeās hands fluttered, as if he didnāt know what to do with them or had recently become aware of their existence. āWhat did they say?ā
Din recognized that Luke was nervous, though Din wasn't entirely sure why.
I'd like to meet him, was the Armorer's final word on the matter. When you're ready.
Must be a particularly pretty head on that engineer, had been Paz's contribution. I thought you were smarter than this.
"The Armorer wasā¦pleased, I think. About you."
"That's good, right?" Luke flushed, smiling shyly. āI mean, isnāt she like your boss?ā
"No." Din chuckled. āShe is our leader. Sheā¦is the closest thing I have to a parent. She is a teacher and a mentor. A guide. Our alor .ā
āIt must be hard to leave her behind, again and again.ā
Din wasnāt sure how to answer that, so he made himself busy unpacking the supplies heād restocked on.
Luke walked up beside him and started putting things away without question.
"So the Armorer is okay with me. What about the others?"
Din considered how best to summarize in a way that Luke wouldnāt findā¦upsetting.
"They all had their own varying opinions from disinterested toā¦upset."
"Upset?"
"Because you are aruetyc."
āWhat does that mean?ā asked Luke.
"It meansā¦outsider."
"Oh." Luke scrubbed a hand through his hair. "And that bothers them?"
Din almost laughed, thinking of the fighting that broke out when Din joined Ranās crew. Describing the dented chest plate and minor concussion Paz had given him as ābotheredā wasā¦well. It was funny.
Fortunately, Paz hadnāt done that this time. Heād made his grievances known in other ways, but that was to be expected.
Paz was almost always displeased with Din, after all.
"Some consider it unwise to keep an aruetii so close."
"An outsider, huh." Luke busied himself with tidying up things that didnāt need to be tidied. "Surely they don't expect you to do everything alone."
"Self-sufficiency is an important part of being a Mandalorian."
"Then why would they be upset that you have company?"
"Solitude is the price and the privilege of being beroya. The Covertās Hunter.ā
Luke made a small noise, one Din had come to understand meant he disagreed.
Din sighed. Luke would understand someday, once he met The Covert. Hopefully sooner.
āAs much as it is difficult for the rest of the Covert to stay hidden underground, at least they are together."
"And you're here, alone." Luke hummed. "But you have me now."
Din smiled. "Yes, I do."
"And Tika."
Din just shook his head. Tika and Din had strong mutual dislike of each other, and he didnt' see that changing.
ā ā ā
"What did you do while I was gone?"
"Waited for you to get back, mostly,ā Luke said with a hesitant smile. āItās boring when youāre not here.ā
āSo you just sat here, doing nothing?ā
Luke rolled his eyes. āI inventoried your cache. You've got a lot of ration bars, by the way.ā
Tika beeped from her perch on Lukeās shoulder, ears flashing red as she said something undoubtedly vulgar at Din. āOh, yeah, Tika helped me go over some Mandoāa, too.ā
At least the droid was good for something.
Dinās gaze drifted to the various weapons, laid out along the training mats. Luke always watched him run through his drills. Sometimes he even joined, though usually he said he was ācontent to watchā.
"I also, um. Thought a lot about it some more while you were gone. Your creed."
The way he said it, Din had a feeling heād been thinking about it longer than just the three days Din had been at the Covert.
"Really."
Din leaned back against the weapons locker, arms crossed.
It wasn't that he was unused to this by nowāespecially from Luke, insatiably curious. But heād sort of assumed theyād put the whole āquestions about the creedā thing behind them.
"And what conclusions did you come to?"
"None. I don't know enough about it to have anything conclusive to say," Luke admitted, cheeks flushed slightly in the dim lights of the cockpit.
Din had a pretty good idea what this was about. "You're wondering about the helmet again, aren't you."
"Sorry."
This was one thing Din liked about Luke: his honesty. Far from the only thing Din liked about him, though.
"You said it was the one absolute rule. Never taking it off in front of others, except for Clan. I just don't understand...why. And I want to. Not to change your mind, I just..." he gestured helplessly."It's who you are, and I want to know you."
Luke's tone wasn't judgemental or prodding. It was...careful, yes. That was the word for it.
That wasn't unreasonable, as far as requests went. And Din, for the first time in a while, found himself wanting to explain.
Din pulled down a seat from the wall, gesturing to Luke to sit as well. This wasnāt a conversation he wanted to have standing awkwardly in the cargo hold.
Luke sat, expression serious.
"It's not about the helmet as much as what it represents," he began. āTo be a mandalorian is a choice. We aren't born into it. We are a creed, not a race. The buy'ceāhelmetāis a manifestation of the decision to be Mandalorian. To remove the helmet is to forsake your oath. An oath isn't something you should be able to put on and remove like a hat. It should be binding."
"You said it's the same if someone else removes it..." Luke trailed off.
"If someone removed your head, would you be able to put it back on again?"
Luke pursed his lips, processing. "I suppose it would be difficult."
Din had asked the Armorer once whether there were a path to redemption if one broke the creed. All she would say was that it depended on the circumstances. The creed is like beskar, Din'ika. Tougher than anything, but able to be reforged by the right hands.
Technically, the Empire had stolen Mandalorian smelters and reforged the armor of their brethren with it. It was still a nice metaphor, though.
"It's not exactly the same, because you can walk away from the creed, even if it is shameful, " Din continued, "but if you choose to walk this path, it means you accept everything that comes with it.ā
"In that case, I suppose it's the exception I don't understand," Luke admitted. "What does Clan have to do with your creed?"
"When a Mandalorian takes the marriage vow, we mean it."
Luke chewed on his lip. "What are the Mandalorian Marriage vows?"
Din looked away.
This is just education, he reminded himself. It wasnāt making a vow, just explaining.
"You promise to be as one, whether together or apart; to share all; to raise warriors."
"That's a lot to promise in so few words," Luke said.
"You should hear the adoption vow. The Gai bal Manda."
Luke tilted his head. "The...name and soul?"
"You have been practicing," said Din, pleased. "To Mandalorians, family,Ā Clan,Ā is a choice. To be as one no matter what."
"That's why you can remove your helmet for Clan?" Luke leaned closer, hands on his knees. "Because you are as one?"
Din nodded.
"What is marriage to you?" Luke pressed.
Why so curious, Din wanted to ask. Then again, Luke had always been like that. Full of questions, always wanting to know more. Know everything.
It was admirable, even when he applied that curiosity towards the parts of Din he couldnāt cover with beskar.
"A partnership,ā Din replied. āDedication and loyalty. A unity of intention and will. A promise to grow together, to learn the changes, to adapt. To challenge you when you're wrong, to be the best version of yourself. To know you, even when you forget yourself."
"What about love?"
Din risked a glance at Luke, wanting to read him, to understand.
Luke met Din's gaze, eyes shining with some emotion Din couldn't name.
"It doesn't have to be about love," said Din. "But if that's not love, then I don't know what love is."
Luke flushed. "And here you said you've never thought about marriage," he teased.
"Well. Maybe I thought about it a little," Din admitted.
"I wonder what it's like when you think about something a lot."
"I wonder."
"I guess we'll have to what and see, hm?"
Din wasn't often overcome by the desire to touch others, but he wanted nothing more than to reach out and take Luke's hand in his.
Instead, he pulled a tin out of his pocket; it contained something precious, and now might be a good moment...
But perhaps not. The context wasn't right.
"So you understand now," said Din, not quite a question or a statement. He felt as though he were standing on a precipice of something, though what it was, he couldn't say. It was too big to name.
Luke met his gaze again, steady and true.
"I think I do."
13.
Din woke up to the sound of Luke crying. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and probably wouldn't be the last. It wasn't a very big ship, and Din had long ago learned that light sleepers lived to see the morning light.
Usually Din left Luke to cry alone, though Din did try to stay awake until the sound of muffled cries faded.
But tonightā¦tonight was different. Rather, Din felt different about it. He'd always preferred the quiet dignity of crying alone, back when heād been a boy still missing his family; heād assumed that Luke felt the same.
Now, he wasn't so sure. Doing nothing hadn't stopped Luke from waking up to cry, so maybe he should try doing something.
Din pulled on his helmet and shuffled over to Luke's berth.
"Tra'kemoya? Are you awake?"
The sound of sniffles abruptly cut off. "Din?"
"Who else would it be?"
Slowly the door to Luke's berth rolled open. His cheeks were flushed and tear drops clung to his lashes, though it looked like he'd tried to wipe his face.
"Did I wake you? I'm sorry, I guess I snore sometimesā"
"I heard you crying."
Luke's shoulders drooped. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?"
"I woke you up." He said it so matter of fact, like there was no room for doubt. "I know crying is a waste of water, but I can't help it sometimes."
"No emotion is ever wasted," Din said quietly. "And I'm not upset about being awake."
"So I did wake you." Luke looked at Din as if seeing him for the first time. "You're not wearing your armor."
"I told you I don't sleep in it."
Luke sniffed, nose runny. He wouldn't meet Din's gaze, as if that would hide his tears from him.
"Why did you get out of bed at all?"
If Din were the type to lie, heād have said he was still figuring out himself.
But he couldnāt lie to himself, and after nearly a year of living together, he couldnāt lie to Luke either.
He didnāt want to.
"I wanted to see if you wereā¦alright. Clearly you're not, butā" Din cut himself off. He was making it worse. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," Luke said, looking down at his hands. "What is there to say?"
Din nodded. He could understand that well enough.
"Do you want aā¦hug?"
Luke frowned. "A hug?"
Din held his arms open. "If you want."
Luke stared at him for a long moment. "Do you mean that?"
"I wouldn't offer it if I didn't mean it."
"Butā¦do Mandalorians hug?"
Din was starting to feel silly with his arms held out. "Do you want a hug or not? I can just go back to sleep if noāoh."
Luke launched himself at Din, grabbing him around the middle.
"Please don't go," he whispered, voice cracking.
Din held his arms up awkwardly for a moment more before wrapping them tentatively around Luke. "I'm here."
Luke held him and cried more than Din previously believed was possible, though he kept this observation to himself. Eventually his hands found their way to Luke's head, smoothing his hair in a way Din hoped was comforting.
He'd long wondered what it felt like, if it were as smooth as it looked. It was.
They'd somehow managed to end up wedged inside Luke's berth together, sitting on the edge of the bunk like it was a normal thing they did all the time.
Luke seemed to have cried himself out of tears, disentangling himself from Din. "Thank you," he whispered. "You didn't have to do that, butāthank you."
"It's nothing."
"No it isn't. You're uncomfortable, I can tell. But I appreciate it regardless."
"I guess I'm not much of a comfort,ā Din mumbled. āI'm out of practice."
"So Mandalorians don't hug."
Din bit back a sigh. Luke's tears might have stopped, but dark emotions were still swimming in his eyes. Din couldn't leave him here thinking things like 'mandalorians don't hug' or 'feelings make Din uncomfortable'. Even if it were sort of true.
āWe express affection differently."
"How?"
"Still as curious as ever," Din teased, mostly to distract himself from how foreign this felt. Touching someone else while wearing nothing but his pajamas. Not even his flight suit. "We call it a mirshmure'cya."
"Brainā¦kiss?" Luke parsed. "What does that mean?"
"It's a headbutt."
"And this is how you express affection?"
"It can be gentle," Din insisted.
"Is itā¦romantic?"
Din shrugged. "Not necessarily. It'sā¦not something you do with just anyone. Friends and family. It's not a kiss in the way you see on those holodramas."
"I've never seen a holodrama."
"I have, unfortunately." Qin had been obsessed with holodramas.
Luke huffed a laugh. "Um. Can you show me? A mirshmure'cya? If that isn't tooā¦forward."
Privately, Din didn't think it was too forward at all. "Lean back a little bit."
"Like this?" Luke tilted his head back, staring vaguely at the ceiling.
"Not quite." Din put a hand under Luke's chin, bringing him level with Din, and pressed his forehead against Luke's.
"Oh," Luke breathed, pressing back gently.
"Mirshmure'cya," Din repeated. "Keldabe kiss, in Basic."
They sat there quietly for a minute, not that Din was keeping track of the time. It had been a while since Din had been close enough with anyone to care to do this. It wasā¦comforting.
"Hey, Din?ā Luke said softly, āWhat did you call me before? When you came over here?"
Din flushed beneath his helmet. "Tra'kemoya."
"What does that mean?"
The problem with teaching someone a language was that sometimes, they asked for an explanation.
"Tra means star field. It's the root word for sky."
Luke hummed. "And the rest?"
"Kem comes from kemir. To walk."
"Oya means hunt, I remember that."
"It can also mean life."
Din watched Luke put the pieces together, something like a smile blossoming.
"So you called me Skywalker?"
"It doesn't fully translate. One who walks among the stars, alive and on the hunt."
āThatās how you see me?ā Luke teased.
Din could have said it was simply his name, but for all that he tried to hide things in mandoāa nicknames, he didnāt want to keep this to himself.
āYes.ā
Luke smiled, pressing his head more firmly against Dinās helmet.
"Tra'kemoya. I like it. What should I call youā¦one who opens the door to closed futures?ā he closed his eyes. āNah, that's too long. I'll just call youā¦ner vencuyot, ok?"
He was falling asleep, so his words were hard to parse, but it still made Din's heart do strange, painful things.
"There is no future. Only the present."
"Maybe I should call you Dinui, then."
You can call me whatever you like.
āWhy were you crying?ā
Luke shifted, resting his head against Dinās shoulder. āItās Boonta Eve.ā
āBoonta Eve?ā
āItās a Tatooine holiday.ā
Din didnāt say anything; he felt like there was more to this, if he gave Luke the time to say it.
āItās also my Aunt and Uncleās anniversary.ā Luke sniffed. āI miss them. Itās almost been a year.ā
āYouāll see them again,ā Din promised. Despite the fact that the last three leads on a de-chipping droid had led nowhere, it was only a matter of time until they found a solution.
āAunt Beru used to make blue pudding for Boonta Eve. She told me she ate it at her wedding because itās all she and Owen could get on short notice.ā Luke chuckled. āThey eloped, you know.ā
āDo youā¦want blue pudding?ā
āNo one else makes it quite like Aunt Beru.ā
Din almost hoped that was a ānoā. He wasnāt much of a baker, and blue milk was hard to come by in this part of the galaxy. But if Luke wanted itā¦
āWhat does it mean, that your aunt and uncle eloped?ā
āIt means they got married without telling anyone. Ran away and got the certificate while everyone else was at the pod race. It was just a private ceremony. Beru, Owen, and Chalmun.ā
āThe Cantina owner?ā
āThe Cantina is always open. He does weddings, too."
"You know, by your definition, all Mandalorian weddings are elopement."
"That's nice," said Luke, eyes fighting to stay open. "You'd like them. My aunt and uncle. Beru would make a great Mandalorian. She taught me how to shoot."
"I hope to meet them someday," said Din.
"You will," Luke mumbled, drifting off into sleep. "I've dreamt it."
ā ā ā
Over morning meal, Din slid a package over to Luke.
It was nondescript, wrapped in a clean tin that used to have blaster charges in it. The tin had been sitting in Dinās berth for a few months now, while he waited for the right time.
But as with most things, there was no right time. Only right now. But after what had happened two days agoā¦
He was ready.
"What's this?" asked Luke, setting aside his blue cereal.
(It wasnāt quite blue pudding, but it was the closest Din could get on short notice.)
"Why don't you open it and find out?"
Luke raised an eyebrow, but he had a pleased if indulgent smile on his face. He carefully unwrapped the package, making sure nothing was damaged so it could be reused later. Nothing wasted in the desert.
Luke pulled out the gift and spread it on his lap.
"A blue handkerchief?"
āFlip it over.ā
āBlue and red,ā Luke corrected.
"For your neck. It's a plastoid weave, plated with a durable paint." Din felt his face heat. This suddenly felt very telling, and very honest. "It can hide the chip in your neck, both visibly and from scanners. I know you're conscious of it."
Luke rubbed the material between his fingers, expression difficult to read.
Plastoid weave wasnāt the softest material, but it wasnāt uncomfortable, either. Hopefully he wouldnāt mind.
"Where did you get something like this?"
Din shifted, resisting the urge to keep it to himself. These days, there were very few secrets he kept from Luke, and this, in itself, was a revelation of a sort. It was importantāit wouldnāt do for him to negate the whole point by being shy about it now.
"I asked the Armorer to make it for you."
Luke blinked, a staggered expression on his face. "This is armor?"
"You could think of it that way."
"Thank you. I'll cherish it." He tied it around his neck, red side up. "Um, does itā¦mean something? When a mandalorian gifts you armor?"
"It isn't beskar."
"That's not what I'm asking."
Din hesitated. This was another moment of truthāone for himself, and one for Luke, too. But only if they were both aware of it.
"Do you want it to mean something?"
"Maybe." Luke sized him up. "Or maybe I'm just trying to figure out your intentions, Mister Bounty Hunter."
Din must be doing something wrong. He'd never been good at sincerity and sentiment, but he wanted to be.
"I want you to be safe and happy," he said as earnestly as he could. "As much as possible in this line of work, anyway. I know you didn't exactly choose it, but here you are."
"O-oh." Luke looked away, rubbing the blue-and-red with his fingertips. "If this is armor, does this mean I can come with you on hunts now?"
āNot having it never stopped you before,ā Din said, crossing his arms.
āAll Iām hearing is āyes, definitelyā.ā
āMaybe with a bit more target practiceāā
āI always hit my targets,ā Luke said seriously. The effort was undermined by the way he tied the handkerchief around his neck and turned it around, adding, āeventually.ā
Din couldnāt help himself; he laughed, so full of what could only be happiness. He didnāt think heād ever felt this way before so he couldn't be sure, but it certainly seemed to be that lightness people who were happy always talked about.
āI know,ā he said.
And he did.
14.
"What's wrong? You look nervous."
Din leaned back in his chair, flipping some switches to divert the subspace thrusters to cruise. "Do I?"
"Yes, you do. Talk to me."
Nervous wasn't the word to describe what he was feeling, exactly.
"I got an interesting tip this morning."
Luke frowned ever so slightly. His thinking face.
"Someone sent you a bounty via holo transmission?" he guessed.
"Not exactly." Din hesitated. "Technically, it's intercepting a bounty in progress."
"I thought that went against the code of the guild."
"That's why this isn't officially a guild job." Din sighed. "What do you know of Keyorin?"
"Mostly what you told me." Luke tilted his head. "It's the one they call the Hunter's World, yes?"
Din nodded. "A planet for smugglers and other criminals to retire. In theory, anyway."
If you were good enough at smuggling to choose to retire, it meant you probably had several bounties. It also meant you were good at dodging them.
But going dirtside and staying in one place was a good way to get caught.
"What does Keyorin have to do with this not-job tip you got?"
Din grimaced. "Most of the bounties you can find on Keyorin are fair game, but there's an understanding that you don't go after the Boss."
"Let me guess," Luke said, tone as dry as the planet he came from, "someone went after the Boss."
"Yeah. The Guild can't refuse to accept the Bounty, but if they take in The Boss...Keyorin won't be happy."
"I guess a whole planet full of ex-smugglers and crime lords being out for blood is bad for business," Luke said, following along. "So they asked you to do what? Kidnap him and return him?"
"How I make the problem go away is up to meā"
"Us," Luke cut in.
"Me," Din insisted. "The fewer people involved, the better. If I get caughtā"
"The Guild renounces any association with you," Luke finished with a scowl.
Din drummed his fingers on his thigh, distracting himself by watching Tika attempt to climb up on the dash again. He was almost tempted to let her try this time, but Luke got to her first.
"Are you even hearing yourself?"
Din was aware of exactly how it sounded. How foolish. But this was the first lead he'd had in a long time; he didn't want to say he was getting desperate, but the only thing worse than acting recklessly was lack of selfawareness.
Luke seemed to take Din's lack of response as confirmation.
"Why are you considering this? It's a bad call, and if I know it's a bad call, then you definitely know it is."
Din turned to Luke, pilot seat creaking.
Luke held his gaze, stubborn.
The truth was, Din agreed with Luke. Would have under normal circumstances, anyway.
Maybe he was hoping Luke would talk him out of it. The fact that he wasn't sure probably wasn't a good sign.
But.
"Keyorin is the kind of place where the worst sort of people go to start over. The Boss doesn't fear the Hutts, or slavers, the syndicates, or the Guild. Word is, he doesnāt even fear the Empire."
As always, Luke put the pieces together quickly.
"You think he has a de-chiping droid."
Din didnāt want to say it, get Luke's hopes upāget his own hopes up. Hope needed to be tempered carefully, especially in a situation like this.
"I don't know that he has one,ā he admitted, ābut considering who he is, it stands to reason he might have the connections to find one."
"Well, that all sounds good, but you donāt seem happy."
Din grimaced. He'd never been good at hiding things from Luke.
"It's the nature of the job."
He flipped some more switches, setting the Crest on a smoother trajectory.
"So," Luke began tartly, "we have to orchestrate the release of a high profile bounty from undoubtedly skilled hunters, all without getting caught, because the Boss of Hunter's World might have a de-chipping droid."
"The Client is also paying a handsome reward."
"Oh, well that makes it alright then," he said, eyes stormy. "If you're doing this for me, then I don't want you to. We'll find another way."
"It's my life to risk, my call to make," Din said at last. "I've been through worse."
Luke stared at him for a long moment. "If you think there's any chance I'm not coming with youā"
Din cut him off. "You're not coming with me."
"And why not?" He smiled as he said it, though it wasn't a pretty smile. It was a dangerous one, in more ways than one.
A panel sparked, setting off a high-pitched alarm. They fixed it together quickly before anything bad happened, but it was enough time for Din to think of a proper excuse.
"I don't want you coming with me because if it goes badā"
"When it goes bad," said Luke.
Din pressed on, "I'll need a quick extraction and getaway."
It was a poor compromise and both of them knew it. It was also the best Din could offer. It helped that it was true, though not the whole truth.
Because the whole truth was, Luke was right: no one was ever ex-syndicate, and this job was a bad idea. If it went badly for Din, the worst that would happen was he would die.
If Luke came along it things went wrong...there were worse things than death.
"That's just another way to say 'stay on the ship'," Luke protested. "What's the point of teaching me how to fight if you won't bring me along to get some practical experience?"
"You want to get practical experience on a ship full of bounty hunters?"
"I want to fight with you."
āThe point of everything we do is survival."
"That goes both ways."
Tika climbed onto the dash again, and this time Luke let her.
Din sighed. "Next time. Next time you can come."
"Never heard that one before," Luke mumbled.
āāā
Din blinked back to consciousness back aboard the Razor Crest. He was laid out on a berthānot his, he recognized, so it must be Luke'sābut he couldnāt remember getting there.
His helmet was still on, most importantly. All of his armor was still attached too, except for his chest plate. He could feel the cool air on his left flank. Probably where heād been shot.
Oh, right. Heād been shot.
He could almost remember it in flashes, now that the pain was making itself known. The hunters had set a trapāthey hadnāt expected a Mandalorian, but Din hadn't been the first whoād come after them.
Still. Heād been doing okay until he had The Boss with him. As it turned out, trying to kidnap the elected leader of the galaxy's best ex-smugglers was easier said than done. The Bossā"Call me Tinketh Fo, only people I respect get to call me Boss" āthought Din was trying to kidnap him and cash in on the bounty himself.
Apparently, someone else had used the excuse of I'm here to rescue you as a way to kidnap him.
Din had been tempted just to call the whole thing off when Fo set off several of the traps himself, which was when Din had been shot by a kriffing slug thrower.
He remembered explosions, yelling, and the weightless sensation that had either been blood loss or the artificial gravity being turned off, and nothing else.
Din tried to sit up with a groan, quickly falling back into the berth. Everything hurt.
āYouāre awake. Good. Youāve been asleep for hours.ā
āLuke?ā
Din turned to look at him. He was the same as ever, though he looked worried.
āDid you carry me back here?ā
Luke smiled. āI bet youāre glad I didnāt stay on the ship this time, huh?ā
Din tried sitting up, biting back another groan of pain with a grunt. His side ached, but not as much as it should. Looking at the wound, it was patched upāhe could almost feel stitches pulling at his skin, though he couldn't see them under the bacta patch. āYou did this?ā
āIt was the best I could do.ā Luke wrung his hands, eyes darting up to look at Din before glancing away again. āHalf of your medical equipment is expired, you know. I keep telling you to get new bacta patchesāā
āItās still good. Just canāt be sold.ā
āI know, Iām just trying to distract you. You, um. Lost a lot of blood.ā
āThat happens when you get hit with a slug.ā
Luke cursed softly. "They had a slug thrower?"
"They had two, at least."
Din poked at the wound, testing how sensitive it was.
Luke grabbed his hand gently and held it. āDonāt do that. The adhesive barely has any stick left.ā
Din, unable to do anything now that his hand was so thoroughly occupied, accepted his defeat.
"Why am I on your berth?"
"Well," Luke said with a hint of amusement, "your berth isn't exactly designed with medical treatment in mind, unless I sat on top of you. There's not much wiggle room. Mine was closer to the door, too."
Din chuckled, struck with the image of Luke trying to give Din stitches, crouched over in his berth.Ā
āDid you bring Tinketh Fo with you, too?ā
āWho?ā
"The Boss."
Din wanted to lie down and go back to sleep, but he'd need to get out of Luke's berth to do so, and he didn't feel much like moving at the moment. And he knew he wouldn't sleep without at least a mild sit-rep.
"Tell me he didn't die."
Luke smiled. "He didn't die."
Din couldn't tell if that was a joke. Din maybe had some brain damage.
"He told me you jumped in front of him and drew their fire."
Din frowned. He didn't' remember that. He'd thought they were shooting at both himself and Fo.
Lucky that they'd missed their target. Unlucky that he'd gotten hit instead.
Well. As long as he got paid, he wouldn't complain too much. Assuming Fo hadn't died some other way.
āWhat happened to the other hunters?ā
āWellā¦I might have rigged their reactor to blow up?ā
He smiled deviously, Din's favorite smile. Well, actually, all of Luke's smiles were Din's favorite. Except the sad ones.
Luke was still talking, waving his free hand in the air as he described what had happened.
"ā anyway, I made sure the Boss got to an escape pod and knew that unofficially, the guild had sent you, in case he felt like owing us later.ā
Din observed Luke, the tired bags under his eyes, the way his hair sat limply on his forehead. It spoke of hours spent worrying over something. Over Din.
"You rigged their reactor to blow up?"
"They shot you," he said, like that explained it. "With a slug."
Din looked away. He hadn't wanted this to become Luke's life. Killing people for money, even if they deserved it, was a long and lonely road.
"They were just doing a job."
Just like me, he thought.
"Don't do that," said Luke.
"Do what?"
"Feel guilty for my choices. I did what I had to do and I don't regret it." Luke took Dinās other hand. āYou scared me.ā
āWhy?ā
āI thought Iād lost you,ā he whispered, voice watery.
Oh. āIām sorry.ā
āDonāt do it again.ā
āI canāt promise that.ā
āThen let me come with you!ā
Din sighed. āLukeā"
āWhat would I have done if something had happened to you?ā
Din had several ideas, actually.
āYou could have sold most of the weapons, and the bounties. Itād probably be enough credits to start a decent life somewhere new.ā
āI donāt want a decent life, I wantāā he cut himself off with a sigh. Din wished Luke wouldnāt do that; he wanted to hear everything Luke had to say, good, bad, and everything in between. āDespite the circumstances of how we met, Iām happy here with you.ā
āYou miss your family,ā Din reminded him for some reason. Probably something stupid.
āOf course I miss them. But I believe Iāll see them again. And this life is full of all the things I ever wanted."
"Bounty hunting?"
"No."
"Blowing up ships?"
Luke chuckled. "That's only happened twiceā"
"So far."
He squeezed Din's hand, secure but still gentle.
Silence fell between them, as it often did, but Din wasnāt content to let this one lie. That didnāt mean that he knew what to say, but he had to say something.
āThank you for helping me, Luke. Vor entāye.ā8
āThink nothing of it. No debts between friends. Weāre Traat'aliit, arenāt we?"9
Neither of those words quite fit what they were. They were Clan in everything but name and creed.
Din could fix that. Din should fix that. He'd been wanting to for so long, and maybe there was a reason to wait, but right now, he couldn't think of a single one.
āMarry me.ā
Luke flushed red. āW-what?ā
āBecome part of my Clan. Or I can be part of yours, if youād prefer.ā
Luke stared at him, eyes shiny with tears.
āWhy? I mean, not that Iām notāthis is all so suddenāā
āLife is short.ā
Din squeezed Lukeās hands, still holding onto his like that alone was enough to keep him here. Not that Din was going anywhere anytime soonāhe was right where he wanted to be.
āThis isnāt some, uh, debt-repayment thing is it?ā
āNo.ā
Luke squinted. āAnd you donāt have a head injury? I can't exactly check.ā
Doubt flickered in his gut.
āDo you want to marry me? Itās a yes or no question. You can say no.ā
āI donāt want to say no, I justāI didnāt know you felt that way about me.ā
Luke was red up to his ears, if Din's thermal indicators were correct.
āYou didnāt? I wasnāt trying to be subtle.ā
āI didnāt want to hope.ā He bit his lip. āYou like me?ā
āI like you a lot.ā
āHow much?ā
āNi karātayl gar darasuum.ā 10
āYou love me?ā Luke asked, eyes wide.
"Darasuum," Din repeated.
Luke's lips spread into a wobbly smile. "Me, too."
āLuke.ā
āYes?ā
āLukkal.ā
āI was listening before, you knowāā
āMarry me?ā
Luke removed one of his hands from Dinās, placing it over Dinās heart. His beskarāta.
āYes.ā
15.
Din would like to have said that they immediately said the vows and he pulled his helmet off, pressed his forehead to Luke's, stared deeply into Luke's eyes and began their life together in riduurok. 11
What really happened was Din tried to stand up too quickly and passed out due to the aforementioned blood loss and minor concussion.
He woke again not long after, but Luke insisted he wouldn't say the vows until Din could stand unassisted.
"What if my head is injured and you need to look at it?"
Luke's eyes glinted with delight.
"So you're marrying me to get medical attention, is that it?"
"I'm marrying you because I love you."
"Blood loss really makes you sappy, huh?"
"You make me sappy."
"I think you might need to eat something," said Luke, Din's verbal fondness not distracting him from his concern.
"That's true. Need fluids. Oh, butā¦ā he sighed, maybe a bit too forlornly if Lukeās unimpressed eyebrow was any indication. āI can't drink fluids with my helmet onā¦"
Luke rolled his eyes. "Why are you trying to rush this? I already said yes."
"Why wait?"
"Maybe I want a long engagement," Luke teased, "to see how serious you are about me."
Din reached up to Luke's neck, thumbing the blue-and-red handkerchief that sat there even now. By Mandalorian standards, he'd already waited a long time to act on his feelings. He wouldn't be the first Mandalorian to marry while suffering blood loss, but some things were worth waiting for.
"As you wish, cyare. "
"I at least want you to be on your feet, cyare," was Luke's reply. "It's not a long ceremony is it?"
"No. It's only four sentences." Din smiled. "The second wedding will be much longer, I imagine."
"The second wedding? Why are we having a second wedding? We haven't even had a first."
Din thought it was obvious, but maybe he should stop assuming things were obvious when, obviously, they werenāt. Maybe blood loss brought clarity of mind.
āAs soon as I can stand, we'll get married the Mandalorian way," he explained patiently. "The second wedding will be the Tatooine way. We can even go to Chalmun's like Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen.ā
Luke met Din's gaze; he always knew where to look, despite the visor. Whatever he found there seemed to settle him.
"I think we can do better than Chalmun's."
"If you say so," Din said, closing his eyes.
ā ā ā
So no, they didnāt get married immediately. But Din could have waited forever, if thatās what Luke wanted. As long as he knew what he was waiting for, and he did.
Din knew exactly who he was waiting for, and Luke was well worth the wait.
ā ā ā
For a long time, they were happy.
For a long time, Din wouldn't have changed a thing about their life together.
But happiness, it seemed, was something that came as quickly as it left. Din had known that for most of his life.
Happiness made it easy to forget about its fleeting nature.
Because for a long time, they were happy.
For a long time, Din wouldn't have changed a thing.
And then, Luke disappeared.
18.
Generally speaking, Din avoided the Sorca Retreat. It was too embedded with crime syndicates and slavers to be a good place to catch a bounty, and any information gathered there was almost guaranteed to be misleading.
However. āGenerallyā didnāt mean āneverā. There were very few things that Din deemed a worthy reason to go there.
Luke was one of those reasons. Luke, and making good on a promise to help him see his family again, to get that kriffing transmitter chip out of his neck.
Leads on de-chipping droids were as rare as Mandalorians, it seemed, so when he got a tip, he followed it.
From the moment they'd arrived at the Space Port, Din had thought something was off.
Well, more like Din noticed it was crawling with Imps, which was in and itself unusual.
After what went down with Fo and Keyorin, Din had made an effort to include Luke in decisions about what they did, especially in regards to de-chipping droids.
"What do you think?" he'd asked Luke. "Come back later?"
Luke had tilted his head in that thoughtful way of his. "No. If we leave and come back, the droid could already be gone."
"If it's even here in the first place."
"Let's split up to search then. No use spending more time here than we need to."
Din had felt uneasy, but Luke was capable. He could handle himself. And if this could be the end of constantly looking over their shoulderā
It was worth it.
The plan had been to meet up at the Crest when the station switched to the Night Cycle.
Din would take the lower levels and back allies, Luke would take the upper levels and main common areas.
A mandalorian drew more attention than they wanted, and the handkerchief should block anyone from scanning Luke's chip.
ā ā ā
On the bright side, Din had found the cache where his tip said it would be.
But that was where the good news ended. There was no de-chipping droid, and probably never had been.
He might have searched around a bit more, but it seemed the Imps had made their way to where he was; it was time to go.
Din returned to the ship. Luke never came.
He didn't truly start to worry until Tika came back. Alone. With Luke's handkerchief tied around her.
20.
Din barely remembered what happened after that. He had vague recollections of tearing through the Space Station, tracking down every lead he could find.
The obvious conclusion was that the slavers had caught up to them at last. Found Luke somehow. Theyād had more than a few run-ins over the years, some skirting closer to danger than others.
It was a reality heād accepted as a bounty hunter. As a Mandalorian. As the covertās beroya; he was both hunter and prey.
Despite how careful they'd beenāhow careful Din had insisted they beāhe'd failed to account for the fact that he might lose Luke while he wasn't looking. That there wouldn't be a fight, but a quiet slipping away.
He'd never lost anything that mattered to him quietly. He wouldn't accept this quietly, either.
āāā
When tearing the Sorca Retreat apart failed to bear results, he went to a different base, then a different one, then a different. Every den of scum and villainy he could think of with slaver connections.
He wasnāt sure how many bases he went to; he didn't lose count so much as he never bothered to count in the first place. There was only one thing on his mind:Ā find Luke, find a sign. A lead. Find something, anything.
āāā
Heād eventually made his way to Tatooine, cutting a swath of destruction through the Slavers Dens there. Never any of the main basesāhe had no illusions about how likely he was to walk out of a place like Jabba's Palace alive if he went in alone.
But he went to all the fringe sites, the hidden depots, the places slavers thought no one knew about.
Places like where he'd found Luke, all those moons ago. The desert had its own brand of justice, and Din was happy to deliver.
Slicing the Slaver network for information was easy when you had a blaster pointed at the head of Hutt Network Security and a base littered with corpses and sparking droids who'd tried to get in his way.
āāā
There was no Luke Skywalker in their database under current assets, only as missing property.
āāā
By the time Din walked away, there were no current assets, only empty servers where Indentity Contracts used to be.
It didn't return Luke to him. It didn't give him any further ideas where to look, either. But it deal a significant blow to the Slavers in the Outer Rim.
Wherever he was, Luke would approve of that, at least.
āāā
His next and most desperate thought had been a stupid idea. Din knew it was stupid, and stupid was usually just another word for dead.
But he hadnāt been able to get it out of his head since Luke disappeared; the one thought that Din kept coming back to, that explained why Tika hadnāt gone with Luke, why his handkerchief had been left behind, why Din couldnāt seem to find Luke no matter where he lookedā
If he wasnāt dead, and the slavers didnāt have him, then maybe the Imps had taken him.
There was no why he could think of. Nothing obvious, other than that was what Imps did. They took, and they took, and they took.
Din had heard rumors about people disappeared off the streets and recruited into labor camps, for minor or imagined infractions.
If that was what had happened, Din would never know. He was just one manāa man desperately in loveābut one man couldnāt fight an Empire.
Even finding out if it had happened would be a challenge, but Din needed to knowā
Heād find a way. If Luke were alive, Din would find him. And if he were deadā
Well. Din could find anyone.
āāā
There was no Luke Skywalker listed in any Imperial database. Din had nearly died finding out.
He did get a broken de-chipping droid out of it, for all the good it did him now.
Din didn't believe in fate, but if it existed, it was a cruel and ironic thing.
Ā
Three months passed into half a year into a year, and nothing.
Ā
22/B.
Din mourned. He didn't accept that Luke was gone, but there was nothing else to do. He said the rights of remembrance every day. He painted his armor gray and white and kept his hope as guarded as his face.
But then he heard a piece of news.
The Outer Rim, as a rule, didn't pay attention to Core System news. It didn't make much difference to him who was claiming to run the galaxy. The Outer Rim was the Outer Rim and always would be.
Din was much the same; he'd spent most of his life surviving the Empire by not getting involved, with notable exceptions.
Some news, however, was important enough to make its way through the apathy of the Outer Rim.
To Din.
He'd been at a cantina like any one could find in the sorts of places bounty hunters went. Din couldn't have said which planet, which system, or even what quadrant it was in.
The only thing he remembered from that day was the news, delivered via a newsreel that was definitely illegal, playing on loop, outlining the rebellion's first major victory against the Empire.
Din had only been half listening, staring in disbelief at the face smiling down at him.
Today marks the One year anniversary of The Rebellion's brightest star taking the shot that caused the Death Star to explode. The rebellion exploited a fatal design flaw intentionally left by the late Galen Erso, plans that were smuggled out to the Rebellion through great sacrifice by Rogue One.
He hadn't even been looking, and there he was. Luke. Lukkal. Tra'kemoya.
Din's first thought had been: he's alive.
His next had been: that can't be him.
After that he stopped thinking anything at all. The rush of relief and anger and confusion and hurt was too much.
So, Din did what he was good at. He hunted.
Din found his next target, and wasn't even sorry when they tried to run and chose to be brought in cold.
Then he found the next target, and the next.
Luke was alive. Luke had joined the Rebellion. Luke had taken down the Death Star.
These were the facts Din knew.
Less clear: had Luke left, or been taken? Had he joined the rebellion because he couldn't find Din? Was he hoping Din would come find him?
But the longer Din thought about it, the clearer it became. Luke had disappeared after a run in with Imperials. They'd had a plan for thatāa secret cache where they could meet. Din had checked there, and Luke wasn't there, and hadn't been. Luke knew how to fight; Din had trained him himself. If he was flying an X-Wing, he could have left. As for wanting Din to find himā¦
He hadn't left any clues he was alive. No holo, no note, no nothing.
Luke didn't want to be found. He might not be dead, but he was certainly marching far away.