Chapter Text
The tall grasses of Lythos VII swished and swirled like waves of a terrestrial sea. The endless plains of waist-high grasses were a nuisance - unless you happened to be in need of cover. Which, at the moment, Bo-Katan Kryze was.
She crawled on her belly, propelled by her elbows, obscured from sight by the thick grass. Though she couldn’t see them directly, she knew her three Mandalorian comrades were beside her. Above their heads, the electric sound of blaster fire shattered what would have otherwise been the lazy stillness that precluded the setting of the sun.
It would have been just lovely, Bo-Katan thought, to embark on a diplomatic mission without getting caught up in some sort of violent conflict. But they were Mandalorians. What else could they expect?
It all started when Bo-Katan had reached out to some contacts within the Lythos Sector, a collection of fourteen small planets in the Corporate Sector of the Outer Rim. Although the planets within the Lythos Sector had a variety of resources, they were known primarily for their agriworlds. It was the agricultural renown that had prompted Lady Kryze to initiate the communication in the first place. She wasn’t well-versed in the topic, and if Mandalore was to be restored from the wasteland that it had become, they’d need help. Cultivating the native plant life and perhaps bringing in new hardy species of essential crops would be a start.
A delegate on Lythos VII invited Lady Kryze on-world almost immediately after receiving her request, which she’d found slightly suspicious. They’d been far too eager to welcome the Manda’lor to their planet. It was a red flag, to be sure, but Bo had been certain they could handle whatever awaited them. She’d accepted the invitation, but she’d brought a few others with her. Koska Reeves, obviously. Another female Nite Owl by the name of Xonia Tross. And finally, a refugee who followed similar traditions to Children of the Watch but was of a different tribe than that of the Armorer and Din Djarin. He was a fairly new arrival to Mandalore and was eager to learn the ways of different factions. The man hadn’t given a name, but one of his tribe mates had once quietly referred to him as Sorruk. Whether it was a given name or a surname was unclear, but Bo-Katan ran with it.
It fascinated her that the Children of the Watch and like-minded tribes didn’t often use personal monikers. How long had her friend Din Djarin, for example, lived namelessly, known only as Mando? He’d admitted that for many years, he’d forgotten that he even had a name.
When Bo-Katan’s Gauntlet alit on the grassy plains, she silently acknowledged the first sign of trouble - she’d been instructed to land in an area outside of the city proper. Strange. And then, as soon as she’d disembarked, she’d immediately been met by a small, secretive delegation, a committee of former planetary leaders. It seemed, low and behold, that they hadn’t been welcomed simply out of a zealous desire to spread the knowledge of agriculture.
The leaders had quite a tale. They told her that Lythos VII had been plagued by a community of brigands over the last two standard cycles - brigands who had set up various camps throughout the planet. The brigands had waited until after the first harvest, then they robbed the citizens of every credit they’d made. Then, during the off season, when the penniless farmers would have starved, the brigands bought them into indentured servitude. They fed them and clothed them, using the money they’d stolen from them to keep them barely alive and functional until the next season. Only for the process to be repeated.
And what did the New Republic do about it? Fuck all. They didn’t have the resources to help, they said. Since the planet still managed to export crops, the people of Lythos couldn’t prove that there was any sort of problem to someone as far away as Coruscant. So the citizens remained hopeless and enslaved.
“Rid our planet of these brigands,” the would-be prime minister, Drice Venka, told her, “And the entirety of our agricultural knowledge and resources will be at your disposal.”
Before agreeing, Bo-Katan had to know what she was up against. That was how she’d ended up where she was, crawling through the grass on a reconnaissance trip to one of the brigand compounds. Flying over with the Gauntlet or with jetpacks was too risky, for in order to get close enough to see what kind of weapons the brigands had, they would alert their adversaries to their presence. So they had to do it the old fashioned way - on foot.
Everywhere that wasn’t a plowed field or orchard was covered in a carpet of the native grass. Although it provided perfect cover for the Mandalorians, it provided cover for their enemies, as well. And wild animals, of which there were plenty. What was supposed to be a simple intel-gathering mission turned into a three-rotation-long trip into madness. When they’d first started out, they hadn’t known what to expect, so all four of them had brought rucksacks full of basic supplies and extra ammunition. It had been a wise decision, as it turned out, for they’d already spent several nights camping in the flat wilderness of Lythos VII.
At present, they’d finally located the brigand camp they’d sought out, but the compound must have had some kind of motion sensors, for their adversaries opened fire on them before either party had even visualized one another.
Unable to approach the camp without setting off more sensors, the four Mandalorians had backtracked, using the grass for cover. They could have stormed the compound, sure - but they had no idea what they’d find there. It would have been suicide.
Bo-Katan was exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Everything. Throughout their trek, she hadn’t slept for more than three hours straight. They took turns keeping watch during the nights they’d spent out there, but she was their leader, their Manda’lor. At the end of the day, their lives were her responsibility, so even when it was her turn to sleep, she couldn’t. Besides, how many times had they fought off the wily, fanged prairie creatures who’d been attracted to their campfire, the creatures who resembled Corellian dire-cats in their relentless preying? It wasn’t even worth it to fall asleep, only to be awoken again shortly after.
Bo-Katan Kryze took care of her people. Her conscience, her honor, demanded it. But who took care of her?
She was struck by a pang of longing at the rhetorical, self-posed question. There was someone out there, someone she trusted a great deal. But she no more knew his whereabouts than she did the fabled angels of Iago. In moments like this, though, it was difficult not to think of him. To wonder what he’d say or do in the situation. To wish he was beside her.
Bo shook the thought away. She didn’t need anyone. She was Bo-Katan Kryze. And she would fight through the exhaustion of her weak, mortal body for as long as it took to ensure her subjects were safe.
No matter how hard she played the mind-over-matter card, though, her mind felt bleary, and her body felt like a bag of sand as they continued to crawl through the ever-present grasses. At last, the blaster fire above them ceased. They’d gone too far from the motion sensors for their enemies to know where they were, and perhaps the brigands figured the intruders were dead. Still, they didn’t dare stand up out of the grass yet. It was impossible to determine the distance they’d crawled. They still needed to keep going, but in the absence of blaster fire, at least they could catch their breaths.
At least, she thought they could catch their breaths. Just when they’d all paused to collect their bearings, they heard the soft click of a blaster being cocked, coming from the area just in front of them. They were blind to the threat - completely blind. There appeared to be a break in the grass up ahead and, if one listened intently, the sound of trickling water. But that was all they could ascertain.
Bo’s lips twisted into a grimace as all four of them grew silent and still, listening and watching for a sound that would give away the location of their assailant. They were met only with silence.
Slowly, Bo began to push up onto her knees. It would give away her location, but she had to find out what they were dealing with. Besides, her beskar would protect her from a blaster, assuming that was the primary weapon she was contending with. The moment her helmet peaked over the top of the grass, a hand grabbed her forearm, yanking her to her feet. She found herself staring down the barrel of a blaster. However, the blaster dropped immediately at the sight of her.
A deep, husky voice reverberated over his voice modulator.
“So that’s who tripped the sensors.”
She knew that voice. Dank farrick. The Westar 35 that she herself had drawn, poised towards the man’s abdomen, fell uselessly back to her side.
The early-evening sun glinted off her assailant’s unpainted beskar. A child, a tiny green creature with exaggeratedly large eyes, stood several feet in front of him, playing in a place where the spring’s water trickled into a crescent of damp sand. It appeared that, although his father had been worried about a threat hidden in the grass, Grogu had somehow known there was nothing to fear.
“Din?”
She didn’t need to say his name out loud. It was obvious. It was all so obvious. Of course, Din Djarin would be here. Although the New Republic clearly didn’t want anything to do with the situation, it would make perfect sense for Captain Teva to send Din, his private investigator of sorts, to see what was going on.
Bo had never been so happy to see someone in all her life. She wanted to yell, to throw her arms around him. It had been months since she’d seen him, and now…now he was an unexpected balm to her worn, frayed nerves. Oh, the regretful things she might have done had it not been for the presence of her three companions.
“Bo.” The hand that had so roughly grasped her forearm dropped away. His voice was uncharacteristically warm, and he’d used her nickname, she noted. Given present company, he probably should have called her Bo-Katan at the very least, but seeing her had, presumably, made him forget. That, and the low tip of his helmet, reassured Bo that he was just as pleased to see her as she was to see him.
Bo-Katan stood still, her body remaining far too close to him. She should have backed out of his space - she was standing nearer than a casual friend would. Yet friends didn’t seem to be an accurate description of their relationship, anyway. As badly as she wanted to fall into his arms, she settled for grasping the vambraces on his forearms. And he grabbed hers, in return.
Behind her, she didn’t see the way Xonia and Sorruk stood up, then turned their helmets quizzically at Koska. Nor did she see the way Koska rose, removed her helmet, and gave them a slow, knowing smile.
Grogu chose that moment to fly himself into Bo’s arms, cooing and muttering in his special way. Bo was forced to let go of Din in order to support the squirming child. She spent the next moments cuddling him and crooning sweet nothings into his ears. She’d missed that little nugget, too, more than she wanted to admit.
“What are you doing here, Bo?” Din’s voice tore her away from Grogu’s distraction.
“Agricultural research. You?”
Din’s helmet cocked to the side, apparently amused by her explanation. She knew he could connect the dots without her explaining any further than that.
“Grogu and I are just sightseeing.”
Beneath her visor, Bo-Katan grinned. Sightseeing, indeed. So, he was here to conduct reconnaissance, too. However, based on what she saw, Din and Grogu had been there for quite a while. The area they’d stumbled into was a clearing - a few trees and small boulders broke up the gurgling waters of the spring. They’d strung up a piece of canvas between a tree and the ground, forming a small lean-to for protection from the sun. The grass had been cleared in a decent sided radius between the lean-to and the water, where a pit full of simmering coals was dug into the ground.
They had a campfire and a water source? How in the world did they keep the dire-cats away? She stowed the question away for later.
“Looks like you’ve been sight-seeing for a while,” Koska piped up, dusting off the knees of her flight suit. Xonia, by then, had removed her helmet as well. The three other Mandalorians advanced into the clearing, seeing as Bo-Katan had obviously deemed it to be safe.
“We’ve been here for five rotations. Almost six,” Din acknowledged. His helmet swiveled to take in the three additional Mandalorians. “Is it just the four of you?”
“Why? Are you disappointed?” Although Bo’s helmet remained in place, she knew he would catch the teasing in her voice.
He snorted a humored breath, cocking his helmet again. “No.” A lot of things hung in the simplicity of that word. He wasn’t talking about the number of her companions, Bo-Katan thought. He meant that he couldn’t possibly be disappointed in meeting up with Bo, by any happenstance. They must have stared at each other just a little too long because Koska finally cleared her throat, pulling them back to the present.
“So…do you two need a minute? Or should we start making camp?” She cocked one eyebrow, shifting her rucksack on her back in emphasis. Bo turned her helmet towards her second-in-command, giving her a rather unamused look.
But Bo gently handed Grogu back to his father so she could pull her own rucksack off and drop it to the ground. “Do you mind if we hang around a while? Maybe share some intel?”
In other words, tell me what you know, Din Djarin.
Din nodded, gesturing with an open palm towards his little camp. “Ner yaim cuyir gar yaim.” My home is your home. Bo-Katan had never heard Din speak Mando’a. It made a pleasant chill run down her spine. It was good that she hadn’t removed her helmet yet, for Force only knew what her face might have betrayed.
Bo-Katan and her retinue then set about unpacking what they needed from their bags. At that point, Bo removed her helmet and set it among her things. There was no immediate threat here. As they worked, Bo introduced the two members of her group who were unfamiliar to Din Djarin.
“This is Xonia Tross, a Nite Owl.” Xonia inclined her head to acknowledge the introduction.
“I’ve heard of you, Din Djarin. Well met.”
“Well met,” Din agreed.
“And this is…Sorruk.” Bo-Katan paused, hoping she hadn’t caused offense by using the man’s name. “Sorruk is from a tribe that was shored up on Zygerria. They arrived on Mandalore as refugees.”
Sorruk nodded once, accepting the preamble. “Helm of Haran.”
“Ah.” Din seemed familiar with Sorruk’s tribe, at least by name. He nodded towards the other man. “We follow similar traditions, then. I am of…Children of the Watch.” It was slightly amusing that Din paused before giving the name of his faction. She was reminded that he’d been so sheltered that he hadn't even known his tribe was colloquially known as Children of the Watch until Bo-Katan had told him that day on Trask.
“Indeed.” Despite the helmets, the look Sorruk cast towards Din was…wary. “In the Helm of Haran, we emphasize the whims of fate. We avoid removing our helmets, true - but there are situations that warrant it. Unlike the Children of the Watch, we know the world isn’t always…black or white.” The explanation was for Bo’s benefit, as Din clearly knew this already, but the dig towards the Children was obvious. Was there animosity between the tribes? Fucking great.
Din leveled a stare at Sorruk, but he didn’t take the bait. “We have all learned,” he answered, cold and blunt, “that there are many ways to be Mandalorian.” Relief washed over Bo-Katan in a wave. Who knew that this man, a member of the strictest of Mandalorian cults, would say those words? There was a time when he would have accused anyone who removed their helmet of being non-Mandalorian, of being a heretic. But he had grown - they all had. Those days were in the past. A soft smile lifted her lips before she could stop it. It was a smile that she didn’t think she’d used for anyone but Din. She forced her expression back to polite impassiveness.
An hour or so later, the sun began to set, casting their little camp in a golden glow. They were ready for it, though. The smoldering embers in the pit were now a bona fide campfire. Din had set up some kind of fish trap in the spring, the results of which now roasted over the crackling flames. The five of them sat around the fire in various positions of repose. Bo found herself huddled near Din, her arms wrapped around her knees. She was close enough that their pauldrons clinked - a sound that gave her a great deal of comfort.
She was so kriffing tired. It took everything she had to keep her eyes from drifting closed. Her body felt weighted down by a blanket of lead.
When the fish were cooked through, Grogu and the women ate together. Sorruk disappeared around the back of the boulder to eat - it was too dangerous to go out farther than that, what with those wretched fanged creatures. He was still within earshot, though. Din waved away Bo’s insistence to eat. He assured her that he would eat later. And then he told the tale of how he’d ended up on the grassy plains of Lythos VII.
Just as Bo had suspected, Din was there at the behest of Captain Teva. His role had initially been to determine whether or not Drice Venka’s claims about his planet essentially being held captive were substantiated. Naturally, it had taken Din all of two standard minutes to see that the planet was in peril. Anyone with eyes could see that. The way their city’s infrastructure was crumbling, the way the children on the streets looked at him with starved, sunken eyes as he passed. The agricultural exports were decently lucrative, so where was all that money going?
Din needed proof, however. That’s what led him to be camped out just beyond the main brigand settlement.
“I tripped the sensors when I first came out here, too,” Din explained. “After that, we stayed out here. It works out, though. We figured out exactly where the sensors are and how close we can get without being detected.”
He went on to explain everything he’d learned over the past few days of surveillance. The “brigands,” were in fact a collective of rogue miners of various species who’d abandoned the mineral holdings on Lythos I and Lythos XIV. When it had become clear that the New Republic didn’t have the same military ambitions that the Empire had (in other words - less demand for specific ores, and massive pay cuts for the miners), a sizeable group of them had broken off, reorganized, and settled on the far more hospitable planet of Lythos VII. They made a killing off the backs of the peaceful civilians of the agricultural community. Civilians who were unarmed, save for the occasional flash-flare to scare off the predatory animals.
It seemed that aside from the harvest season, at which point the miners swarmed the civilians’ every waking moment, they preferred to remain in their hastily-built compounds, drinking and carousing amongst their own crowd. Seeing as they were currently in the off-season, they almost never ventured into the cities, except when they needed supplies. Din had discovered a few of their well-used trails, and he’d mapped them out. The camp that he and Grogu made was far enough away from any of their trails that they were not detected.
Even so, if the miners were smart, they would have kept better surveillance. They would have investigated the tripping of their alarms more thoroughly, Bo-Katan thought. She verbalized the sentiment aloud.
“They are complacent,” Din explained. “They think they are untouchable out here. That no one would care about a little, remote, farming planet.”
Bo was silent for a moment, thinking. “How many men are there? What kind of firepower?”
“In this camp? Probably two hundred or so. They’ve all got basic weapons. Blasters, mostly. And mining implements.” Din’s mask trained on her expression, no doubt watching the way her lips pursed as the wheels turned in her head. Two hundred miner-brigands against the five of them. Was it unrealistic to think that they could take out forty brigands each? They were Mandalorian, after all. It was just going to require a more tactical approach to avoid being out-gunned or backed into corners. They would need to maintain the element of surprise as much as possible. Even so, they’d have to be incredibly smart about it - and incredibly lucky.
Even if they did succeed, though, this was just one compound. There were others. Taking out this compound might only succeed in making them a sitting target for the other camps. Kriff, she might need to call in more manpower if they had any hope for success.
“However…” Din drawled, continuing his debriefing. And the way he said the word gave Bo-Katan a fresh spark of hope, for there was a smugness to him that suggested that what he was about to say would be a game changer. “The miners’ biggest asset is the amount of explosives they stole from the quarries when they came over. They have a hut in the middle of their settlement where they keep it all.”
A slow, understanding smile curled across Bo-Katan’s lips. She nodded once, succinctly. Din’s helmet tipped down in a replying nod. It was uncanny, really, how they could communicate so much in such a simple gesture.
Xonia cast them a confused look, her dark brows drawing together. “Wait. Am I missing something? Why is that good? If they have a hoard of dynamite, this whole place could blow up, ourselves included!”
“It won’t come to that,” Bo assured the Nite Owl. “These miners, these brigands, took this planet out of greed and selfishness. They’ll do anything to save their own skins. Meaning…” Bo turned to give Din a grin that was probably more affectionate than it should have been. In her thoughts, she praised him. Din Djarin, you are a fucking genius. She couldn’t say it out loud, though, so she had to say it with her eyes alone. “...meaning that if we play this right, we don’t have to kill a single person.”
“We need a hostage,” Din continued, cocking his helmet towards Bo-Katan in a way that just screamed his mutual admiration. “Someone with the power to call off the rest of the miners.”
“Is there a leader?” The modulated voice came from Sorruk, who’d apparently finished his meal and now joined the conversation. “Someone who’s in charge of the compound?”
Din shifted his attention to the other man. “There is,” he confirmed. “A scughole called Aliquin Fowle. I’ve met him before, actually. That’s a long story but…he will remember me.”
It sounded very much like a story that Bo-Katan wanted to hear, but she resisted the urge to ask. Perhaps he’d tell her later. For now, they needed to make a concrete plan. So that’s what they did.
------
The sun finally sank beneath the horizon, casting them in a hood of darkness. Of one accord, they all drew closer to the fire. Bo’s eyes were elsewhere, however, peering into the grasses around them for the telltale yellow eyes of the Lythos predators. Din watched her - she could feel the force of his gaze. When the details of their plan for the next morning were solidified, the small company fell into silence. Only then did Din present his question.
“What are you looking for?”
Bo answered without looking at him, too focused on searching for the signs of predators. “You cannot tell me that those dire-cat things haven’t been hunting you like snitmice.”
Din nodded, comprehending her concern. “I don’t think they are dire-cats. They are carnivores, yes, but they don’t seem to hunt for sport like dire-cats do. If you leave them alone, they leave you alone.”
She scoffed, annoyed by his assurance. “Oh, really? Tell that to Xonia. She almost got her arm taken off…in her sleep. Does that sound provoked to you?”
Din’s helmet swiveled towards Xonia, who nodded a confirmation. Her upper arm was indeed wrapped tightly in a makeshift bandage.
“No, it doesn’t,” he slowly agreed. “I only assumed because of Grogu. The first night, there was a pair of them circling our camp, but Grogu approached them before I could stop him. He reached his hand out, and they came to him, like they were communicating somehow. And then they just left. Haven’t seen them since.”
“Gee, if only we all had a Force-sensitive child,” Bo-Katan teased, bumping Din’s arm playfully.
“All the more reason for you to stay with us.” Did she detect a hint of longing in his tone, or was that her imagination? In any case, he wasn’t wrong.
His words regarding the dire-cats proved to be true, though. They saw neither hide nor hair of them near the campsite. Bo-Katan bid her retinue to spread out near the fire and rest. Force knew they all needed it. Even Grogu could no longer keep his eyes open, try as he might to stay awake and snuggle with Bo.
“I missed you, too,” Bo had whispered against his soft green ears as Din tucked him into his pod, which was hidden in a nook between the boulder and a tree.
-----
A half hour later found Din Djarin and Bo-Katan Kryze huddled near the fire - the only ones who remained awake.
“You look exhausted.”
Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe it. But that was something a woman never wanted to hear, Bo thought ruefully.
“Thanks.” Her retort was laced in sarcasm.
He didn’t apologize. “You should sleep. Let me take the first watch.”
Bo’s face turned towards Din’s helmet, watching the reflection of the flames flicker in his visor. It was a mixed temptation. She wanted nothing more than to succumb to the fatigue that had set into her very bones. To finally, finally have someone to lean on. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Koska, but Din Djarin was different. She didn’t have to be “Lady Kryze” to him. He wasn’t relying on her for leadership or guidance - he was just her friend. She could sleep in total peace, knowing that he was beside her. He would watch over her subjects. He would take care of them.
But the other part of that was…
“I missed you, Din. You have - you have no idea.”
The only thing that could possibly wrench her away from her desire for sleep was her desire for the man who sat beside her. It had only been a few months since he’d left Mandalore, but his departure left a void inside her. The worst part was, she hadn’t realized how much she’d grown to appreciate his presence until after he was gone - when it was too late. They should have talked about it before he left. But perhaps this was the universe’s gift to her: they could talk now.
But how could she adequately explain the way she felt? The way it sounded in her head, it would surely come across as being…romantic. And that was new.
She’d never been in such an emotionally precarious position before. What was the difference between having a gut-wrenching appreciation for the existence of a real, true friend and…and simply being in love with him? How did one differentiate?
The voice in her head that responded to her question sounded suspiciously like that of Koska Reeves. If he was just a friend, would you daydream about him fucking you against the wall? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
It was fortunate that the darkness and the dancing campfire light hid the blush that was crawling up her cheeks. Though the words were unspoken, she couldn’t help but acknowledge that she spent an unusual amount of time dwelling on the memory of Din’s shoulder to hip ratio and his immense, masculine physicality. She wasn’t a tiny woman, but next to him…damn. The feeling of being small beside him wasn’t intimidating, though. On the contrary, it was powerful. Din Djarin was her weapon. He was hers.
Although maybe…maybe not in the way she wanted, deep down.
“I may have some idea.” Din’s soft, mechanical words called her back to their conversation.
“Do you?” Bo chuckled, disbelieving. He was so sure that he knew her mind, was he?
“Yes. If you…” his words drifted away into silence. His visor tipped down to stare at his hands, as if all of life’s answers were written on his gloved palms. “If you feel anything like I do, then yes. I understand.”
Oh. Oh.
“And how do you feel, Din Djarin?” Although sleepy, Bo’s heart rate spiked. She didn’t consciously know what she wanted him to say. But the concept that he might be struggling in the same way she was comforted her to an absurd degree.
“I…” He turned back towards her, the black of his visor stealing her breath. “I’m really happy that you’re here. It feels less like another mission and more like…”
Paradise. The word came to Bo-Katan unbidden. She didn’t know if that was the word Din was looking for, but that’s what she felt. Staring up into the sky of infinite stars, sitting at a campfire by his side, there was nothing else she could have asked for. Nothing. Paradise - home - was wherever Din Djarin was.
“Mmhmm,” Bo hummed her understanding. She wanted to talk more, to know more, but….
“Sleep, Bo.” Din chuckled. “I’ve got you.”
Yeah, you do. You’ve got me, Din. In more ways than he probably expected.
Bo-Katan didn’t retreat to her sleeping bag, however. She crawled over briefly to snatch up her pillow, but she returned to Din’s side. She propped the pillow against the outside of his leg - a soft barrier between her face and the hard beskar of his thigh plate. Her face sought his, somewhere beneath his helmet. Is this okay? She silently asked. He was still as a statue for several ticks. But then he dipped his head, giving permission. There was something tender in the movement, something she couldn’t put her finger on, yet she was certain of its presence.
So she laid her head down against him, knowing that she would sleep the most soundly if she could feel him. A contented smile slipped across her face, even as her eyelids fluttered closed. Only now could she truly rest, knowing absolute security. Din Djarin was her safe haven. She could trust her body and mind to sleep, so long as he was there.
A deep sense of peace and contentment settled over her, and she drifted off.