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“This is the Way.”
The credo of their Tribe, and probably the one sentence she has said uncounted times since becoming the leader.
And yet, she couldn’t remember having it heard so sincere as Din Djarin did right now, when she allowed him to adopt Grogu and take him on as his apprentice.
But where was the Way of the Mandalorians leading, now that they had retaken their home planet with all its ruins and pain embedded in every crevice? Could they really rebuild their society, despite the still existing conflicts within the different factions and their dwindling numbers in general?
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Ragnar, standing near the new lightened Great Forge, staring into the darkness.
The boy was strong, a trait common in almost every single member of the Clan Viszla, but still, she all but could feel the sadness emitting from him. Sure, he still had the rest of his family with him, but the bond between a father and his son, no matter how many children or sons a family has, is believed to be the strongest, and she hoped that over time, other strong fighters like Axe Woves would chip in with the boy’s training.
The Armorer also wished that all their current foundlings would once be able to live in a galaxy without having to hide in caves or underground for most of their days. While she never would say it out loud, the years since the Great Purge and the Night of the Thousand Tears had left their marks, not just on the Tribe, but on all Mandalorians left.
They were scattered throughout the galaxy, and Bo-Katan bringing in the Nite Owls was only the beginning of what The Armorer hoped would be a complete reunification of what was left of the once great and proud Mandalorian society.
“Armorer?”
Just one word, and yet, it was enough to bring her back to the reality.
Turning slightly, she was faced with both Axe Woves and Koska Reeves, with the latter holding something behind her back.
“Yes? What is it?”
“As you know,” Axe began, “we spent some time as bounty hunters…”
“…other call it ‘guns for hire’….,” Koska cut in, and even with their helmets on, The Armorer could hear the smile.
“…and for one of our last assignments, we were paid with something we think you could use, better than any of us.”
With that, Koska moved her arms – and revealed a rather large box, containing several long bars of Beskar steel.
“And its not tainted with the sigil of the Empire, either,” Koska added, knowing how much it rankled most Mandalorians.
“Has your client told you where or how he acquired it?”
“No, but to be honest, none of us actually asked,” Axe told her. “We were planning on selling it for food and ammunition at some point when Bo-Katan came to Plaisir.”
“Do you have any wishes on what should be forged from it?” The Armorer asked while taking the box from Koska.
“No,” the younger woman replied, “except that you use part of it for Ragnar’s first armor. We all know the severity of losing your father, and I fondly remember how much my own first armor helped me regaining my footing, literally and figuratively.”
“I shall adhere to your wishes then,” The Armorer replied with a bow. “What about the rest?”
“We are sure you will use it wisely,” Axe told her before leading Koska over to where Bo-Katan was talking to some others.
“Looks like I have some work to do,” The Armorer said to herself, and while she was plotting out how much of the Beskar she would need for the boy’s armor, she felt something akin to peace and hope, probably for the first time.
Maybe this new way was shaping up right to be the true way for all Mandalorians one day.
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The End
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