A new bounty. It was strange how things sometimes played out. There was Mando, lying on his bed, trying to stop his headache and thinking about the good old days, when Zeb called him. He took the call to the cockpit, but now saw Luke standing behind him, Grogu beside his leg, and said, “I’ll be there tomorrow, Zeb,” shutting off the hologram. Mando turned in his chair and set his hands on his thighs. “Luke, I need to ask you something.”
“No,” Luke said, shaking his head and gently pushing Grogu to him, “what you need is to listen to your son.”
Did something snap in Mando’s chest? It suddenly hurt as much as his head. God, he needed this bounty.
“I overheard you,” Luke added, sitting in a chair across from Mando. “If this new assignment involves those invisible enemies, then I think I can take a break from the academy to help you.”
Him? Luke Skywalker? Mando thought he would be in and out of there, the problem solved. However, he wouldn’t be surprised if Luke’s Force senses picked up on his need for that conversation about father-son relationships. He also seemed to understand Grogu better than him, maybe because of the Force?
Luke lost his stern face. “You’re not a bad dad; you’re just learning and need to listen to Grogu more. I don’t know what happened to you two, but I do know that fear isn’t the right path to take.” He paused before continuing. “Fear is like ashes. If you keep hiding in them, those ashes will become your new Way.”
And that was why Luke was a Jedi.
Mando fell silent and picked up Grogu, setting him on his knee, watching as Luke stood and exited the cockpit.
If only he had that same mindset with Rotta.
Sleep was non-existent that night, not with Mando’s headache and Luke’s words echoing in his brain.
On high alert, he tossed and turned and ensured his blaster was close, in case the invisible enemy struck.
Grogu watched him for a while, but then he slid out of his own capsule and headed toward Mando, jumping onto his bed.
He instantly sat and pointed his gun at the other end of the berthing compartment, where Luke had settled for the night. Rotta took the common room since he was larger.
At the sight of Grogu, Mando quickly lowered his gun and slipped it back into its holster.
The Child gripped his wrist, cooing, and shook it.
“I’m sorry, Grogu,” Mando apologized. Luke said he had to understand him better, but how could one do that when Grogu didn’t really talk yet? Mando noticed him caressing his glove and inhaled, removing it.
Like before, Grogu touched his palm and wrapped his own hand around three of Mando’s fingers.
Finally, Mando stood and set The Child on his shoulder. He put his glove back on and tiptoed out of the berthing compartment, through the Razor Crest, to Ossus’s star-filled night; however, he stumbled and nearly fell, almost dropping Grogu.
Mando and Grogu stayed close to the ship but sat on the edge of the cliff, examining the billions of stars and planets above the valley.
Mando patted his lap, and Grogu crawled into it. He gestured toward the sky and pointed at a pattern of stars resembling the creature that had attacked them earlier that day. “Do you see that pattern, Grogu?” he inquired, and Grogu replied yes with his head. “That’s called a constellation,” Mando elucidated. “They tell stories.” He pointed out each constellation, Grogu following his hand. The two shivered under the cold, night air, but they stayed out there for they didn’t know how long, trying to get through to each other.
“I wish you could tell me what you’re feeling.” Mando took Grogu off his lap and set him down beside him, pulling his knees close. “It would make this much easier, kid.”
The moon had risen now, its light blocking a few stars while it hovered over the valley like it was about to abduct it.
After a few minutes, a noise came from the woods.
Back on alert, Mando drew his blaster and hopped up, stepping before Grogu. The double vision was back, but he patted the side of his helmet to clear it.
The noise drew closer, but it didn’t sound as large as the Arthropleurix or as intimidating. It sounded like high-pitched beeps—familiar, actually.
A blue and white droid appeared from the forest and headed toward Mando and Grogu. At the same time, Luke had just exited the Razor Crest, looking for them. At the sight of the droid, his eyes widened. “R2!”
The droid unleashed a series of beeps and rolled to Luke, circling him.
“Sorry,” he included, patting R2’s sides. “Are you all charged up?”
It took Mando a minute, but he finally remembered the smart, little droid.
Luke gestured at him and Grogu, asking, “You remember Mando and Grogu, right?”
Turning, R2 rolled to them, seeming to jiggle in place like an excited child.
Luke switched his attention from him to Mando and Grogu. “Are you two finally learning to understand each other?” But then he noticed Mando banging the side of his helmet again. “Is something wrong with your helmet, Mando?”
“It’s not my helmet,” he replied (it was his pride at stake).
Grogu’s worried expression returned. Even R2 calmed down, but Mando could feel tension from him and Luke.
Luke kept prodding him, but only because of his compassion. “Did you hit your head in the crash?”
On the flight deck, yes, but Mando was a Mandalorian; he couldn’t let a little head injury slow him down. He had endured plenty of injuries (only two almost killed him).
Mando shivered when the Dragonsnake’s image overtook his mind again—those fangs, and feeling the life seeping right out of him in that forest.
Luke smiled at Grogu. “Don’t worry, Grogu. We’ll get your dad checked out tomorrow. Han was a little stubborn, too, and he turned out fine.”
A doctor? Mando didn’t need one; he had other things to worry about, but to keep Grogu calm, he didn’t argue with Luke.
It wasn’t long until Grogu yawned and lifted his hands over his head. He parked himself between Mando’s feet and instantly fell asleep, soon breathing softly.
Another smile crossed Luke’s face. “I guess you should put him to bed now, Mando. I’ll wait out here with R2 for a bit until you’re settled.” He was so calm, but not as stoic as Mando, though he still had a few things to work out with Rotta.
Before Mando left, Luke gestured at his helmet. “I think that crack in your helmet is getting worse.”
His helmet? Now Mando understood why Luke was waiting for a bit. He thanked him and returned to the Razor Crest, putting Grogu to bed in the berthing compartment. Mando tucked him into his gray blanket, which looked like a swaddle. He ensured he was fast asleep before he sauntered to a table near his bed and turned on a dim light.
Very carefully, Mando removed his helmet and held it up to the light, strands of his helmet hair dangling over his forehead.
Din moved the helmet closer to the light and squinted his eyes. Oh, wow, Luke was right. The cracks on the visor, originally confined to the corners, were moving toward the visor’s center. Din meant to fix it earlier, but Zeb’s call distracted him, and his head wasn’t in the right place now to spend the rest of the night trying to fix it. Therefore, Din would deal with a cracked visor for a little longer—until he reached Adelphi the next day.
He just hoped that it wasn’t so damaged that he would need a new helmet.
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