Chapter Text
Din clutched Grogu tight to his chest, unable to let him go.
He still couldn’t believe it.
His ad was here. His ad’ika was alive and here, with him, safe in his arms.
Grogu had found him. He had his child back. And by the Manda, he wasn’t going to risk getting separated from him again. No way in hell was he going to let that happen.
It was comforting to know that Boba wasn’t going to let it happen either, based on his furious glare at anyone who looked at Grogu too long. Or the way his hand hovered protectively over Din’s shoulder as they made their way to the command tent. Din didn’t bother to resist leaning into it. After the day he’d had, he figured he deserved it.
The Dha'kad was vibrating with happiness at this turn of events, its entire being sending waves of joy and elation up to Din. Somehow, it knew Grogu, even though to Din’s knowledge it had only seen Grogu for a few minutes on Gideon’s cruiser before Grogu had been taken away. There was a chance it could access his feelings as well as he could it’s . . . it made sense, given all the other things it could do. At this point, Din would readily believe almost anything about the mystical blade.
He hadn’t been paying much attention to anything other than Grogu, but he had caught what Boba said about explaining things.
Din didn’t know how much help he was going to be in the conversation, given that all he had running through his head was a repeat of the same few thoughts. He’s safe. He’s here. We’re together. Grogu is alive. He’s safe. He’s here. We’re together. Grogu is alive.
“Come on,” Boba said encouragingly, his voice soft and his eyes kind. Had it been any other time Din would've taken the moment to appreciate how abnormally caring Boba was acting, but he couldn’t manage it now. Now, all he had to think on the matter was that he was glad Boba was being gentle, or he might’ve burst into tears again. Which was probably why Boba was being so gentle in the first place.
Din didn’t say anything, only pressed a kiss to Grogu’s forehead as he was led by his ori’vod into the tent, following behind Jaster, Jango and Myles. Din had considered asking if they wanted Mij here for this too, but it was probably better to start small.
He wished Fennec and Arla were back. Hopefully they would be soon. As much as Boba helped, he wanted Fennec as well. And Grogu wanted to see his other ba’vodu, based on the way his little eyes kept glancing around for her. The little child hadn’t met her for very long, but he knew of her.
Jaster sat down at the table and Jango and Myles followed suit, choosing two chairs next to each other. Din would place money on them holding hands under the table. Boba didn’t sit, but he pushed Din towards one of the chairs and Din took it gratefully, hugging Grogu to his chest. Grogu made a muffled sound of protest at the tight embrace and Din winced, loosening it enough that Grogu could turn around and face the others as well.
Boba put his hands on the table. He was just tall enough for it to be a manageable position, but it still looked a little awkward.
“So.” He glared intimidatingly across the table at the three Haat’ade, his voice beskar. “I will not be taking questions until the end. You listen to it all first, got it?” He glanced at Din and Grogu. “And I’ll be the one talking, not them. You can talk to them afterwards.”
Jaster frowned wearily, but he and the two teens nodded.
Din was thankful for the break from his responsibilities. He was content to just hug Grogu and watch the chaos unfold.
“My name is Boba Fett,” Boba said. “Clone of Jango Fett and Daimyo of Tatooine.”
Din could see the questions about to spill out of their audience’s mouths, but before Boba could get annoyed, he snapped his fingers, reminding them without words to shut up. The look on his face must've been terrifying, because no one spoke. Boba chuckled.
“I’m not going to tell you everything,” he decided. “Only the basics. Jango,” he looked to the teen, “You raised me like your own child. I do not condone the actions that resulted in my existence, but I can say without a doubt you tried to give me a good life, even if you weren’t there for most of it.”
Boba took a deep breath and Din reached out to put a comforting hand on his ori’vod’s shoulder. Boba leaned into it, taking comfort from his friend.
“Anyways. A lot of kark happened, and the galaxy delved into chaos. A lot of it was due to the death of the Haat’ade and Jetii. Ba’buir,” he looked at Jaster, “You were supposed to die on this mission. Killed by Montross. And it eventually led to a lot of very bad things.”
Wow. Boba isn’t pulling any punches, is he?
“Shit,” Myles muttered, gaping and wide-eyed. The others weren’t brave enough to say anything. Either that or, more likely, they were too stunned at the moment.
“Long story short, I was an asshole for most of my life. Worked for the wrong people, hurt good people. Got thrown into a sarlacc-” Jango and Jaster appeared to choke on their own tongues- “had a change of heart, met Fennec, e.t.c. I met Din a free months ago, and we ended up working together to save his ad, Grogu here.” Boba gestured to Grogu, who waved happily at his ba’vodu. Boba’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled.
“The kid is a Jetii, and was wanted by some bad people because of it. During the fight in which we retrieved him, Din somehow accidentally,” Boba laughed, and Din rolled his eyes at the never-ending jokes about the Dha'kad, “won the Dha'kad. That brings us to a week ago, when this idiot here somehow managed to find the weirdest Kyber crystal ever, which sent us back in time to here after touching the Dha'kad.”
They could hear Grogu’s breathing, it was so silent. Actually, Grogu was the only one who seemed to even be breathing.
Din didn’t blame them, all things considered. But he felt pity, looking at the three dumbstruck faces.
Sending his ad a silent apology, Din stood up and set Grogu on the seat in his stead. Boba was about to protest, but Din sent him a reassuring look and the Daimyo didn’t say anything.
“I promise you, everything he just said is true. My flimsy lies when we first met were due to the fact that I really actually had no clue what was going on. I've been winging it, to be honest. The Dha'kad helps, but I was at a loss for what to do until Boba and Fen showed up.” He sighed, looking down at the table. “I was the beroya of my Covert. We were . . . very traditionalist, to say the least.”
Jaster, for the first time in the conversation, got an understanding look in his eyes. “You said something once that made me wonder. . .”
Jango took that as a sign he could butt in. “Traditionalist in what way?”
“We didn’t remove our buy'cese, for one.” Din grimaced. “We lived in hiding. The future was . . . not kind to Mandalorians. Not kind to any of us, be they Kyr’tsad or Haat’ade or even Evaar’ade. We were barely surviving.”
Boba was staring at Jaster, as if hoping he could force the man to understand. “It is why we were all so surprised by your forces here- we hadn’t seen Mandalorians in this large a number in decades. In fact, this might be the biggest gathering I've ever seen.”
Jaster looked like he was going to be sick. Jango and Myles weren’t faring much better.
Myles’s opened and closed his mouth a few times, seemingly gathering his thoughts, then said, “Given all this information, do we want to know where your friends and Arla are?”
Din held back a laugh. Of all the things he’d thought they were going to say, that wasn’t one of them.
Boba snickered, lifting some of the dreary air around the table. “She’s just finished assassinating the person who led to . . . pretty much everyone’s deaths. Yours,” he looked at Jaster and Jango, “the Mando’ade’s, the Vode’s, the Jetti’s even. Trust us, it was a good cause, and they’re due back in an hour or so. None were injured, thankfully.”
Din nodded when Jaster turned to him for confirmation.
“Kark,” Jaster muttered, looking like the planet had been upended. Perhaps that wasn’t so far off, really. Din could imagine how crazy it seemed to an outsider, one who hadn’t experienced any of it.
The moment he thought the words, a small tap on his arm made itself apparent. Din looked down to Find Grogu frowning up at him. The little ad pointed to Jaster, then waved his hands around. Din was at a loss for what his ad wanted, until he thought for a moment and made the connection- it looked like the gesture Greef used to describe the Jetiise magic. The ‘Force’, according to Tano.
Oh, Din thought. Grogu had talked to Tano with the Force, right? Shown her memories of the night he’d escaped the Temple. The little verd’ika wanted to do it again, with Jaster.
“Buir,” Din broke the stunned silence. “Gro’ika wants to show you, if that would be okay.”
Jaster’s eyebrows rose. “He wants to. . . show me?”
“With the Force,” Din clarified. “He can show you some of his memories.”
“I’m not Ka’ra -touched,” Jaster informed him, looking confused.
Grogu was still insisting though, so Din just shook his head. “Let him try, Buir.”
Jaster nodded a little hesitantly, but gave Grogu a warm smile as he waddled across the table to his ba’buir.
The others watched with bated breaths, none daring to make a sound.
Grogu gripped Jaster’s hand, his large eyes closing in concentration. To Din and the others, nothing happened. Jaster was breathing faster than usual, but that was about it. Grogu looked calm and at peace, despite whatever memories he was reliving.
Din wasn’t sure if it was working correctly, since neither made any move to say anything.
Or at least, they weren’t until a few seconds later, when Jaster gasped sharply and his brown eyes flew open, looking with undisguised shock and horror at the three children.
“I- you- kark,” he finally settled on, so pale Din worried as to where all the man’s blood had even gone. “That really happened. . . shab.”
DIn winced at the vulgar language. He couldn't remember his new Buir being so stunned since he’d pulled out the Dha'kad. It was a lot to take in, he knew. It made him wonder what memories Grogu had shown the man.
Grogu fell back on the table, looking tired but satisfied. Din reached out and grabbed his ad. In the first few months they’d been together, something like that would’ve made Grogu pass out. Now, though, he just looked a little sleepier.
I guess he got better at that with the Jetii, Din mused. He was glad Grogu didn’t pass out with every use of the Force now.
Jaster stood up, fresh determination in his eyes. As they watched, he grabbed his buy'ce and donned it, looking every bit the fearsome Mand’alor Din knew.
“You said you’re going to fix that, right?” He checked. When they nodded, he continued. “Where do we start?”
Fennec, Arla and Shmi came back a couple hours later. It was almost midnight, and while the camp was never fully asleep, Din and Grogu were. Jaster had been pulled aside by his various duties, Jango and Myles were asleep in their tents (or tent, really. Boba was pretty sure his Buir had snuck into Myles’s tent), and Boba was the only one awake to welcome the small group back when they landed.
Boba was sitting by one of the fires, watching over the nearly-silent camp. On his shoulder leaned Din, and on Din’s lap lay Grogu, both of them sleeping lightly. The older boy watched them both fondly, thankful there was no one else at the fire to wake them.
As the flames slowly began dwindling, Boba thought over all that had happened.
Jaster had taken the news . . . overall, better than Boba had expected. In fact, he was sure the Mand’alor was completely convinced. Jango and Myles, not so much. But that would come with time. Boba was just happy they had told them, and didn’t have to tiptoe during conversations anymore.
Jango and Myles would take some more convincing, Boba knew. But they could do that easily, so it wasn’t an urgent matter. They might just need a little time for it all to sink in.
It was still odd to think about his Buir so casually, after decades of him being dead. It helped to think of them as two different people- it wasn't far from the truth, either. The Jango that Boba had known as his Buir . . . that man was gone. He was a product of things that would never happen to the teen a few tents over.
As much as it hurt him, Boba was going to make sure of it. He would make sure that the young boy, the one with a father, a sister, a ven’riduur and a future position as Mand’alor, never became the Jango Fett that Boba knew. The Jango Fett that had shoved the Vode aside, the Jango Fett that had died on Geonosis.
Boba wasn’t going to let that happen.
Muffled cheers from the other side of camp knocked him out of his thoughts, making him sit up straighter. He’d lost himself for a second there- something he never did. In his line of work you had to always be alert. It was hard, though.
Sitting there, with the chill air at his back but the warmth of the fire on his front, Boba was content. He felt safe, for what felt like the first time in weeks. Din was happy, and Grogu was returned. The only thing that would make it better was Fennec being there.
His wish was fulfilled just seconds later when he heard the whoosh of a ship, speeding over their campground. It brought a few heads up, but when nothing else happened everyone settled down, assuming it was another Haat’ad joining the camp. Boba knew better, though- that was the ship Arla, Fennec and Shmi had stolen.
Boba shifted Din and Grogu until they were leaning against one of the trees, careful not to wake them just yet. Undoubtedly, they would both wake when the others walked up, but he could give them a few more seconds at least.
The crackling of the fire and distant conversations happening throughout the camp didn’t disguise the sound of footsteps, and Boba could hear clearly as the three women made their way down the hill from the makeshift shipyard into the camp. He could see Fennec at the front, and when she moved as if to head to their tent, he stuck up a hand and waved her over instead. Catching sight of it, she headed towards the fire and left behind the other two women, who Boba saw heading to Arla’s tent.
Interesting, he thought, observing as they both entered. He was going to have to ask Fennec about that later.
It didn’t take long for Fennec to cross the camp, a few familiar verde waving to her as she walked by.
Boba leaned into the fire, drawing his coat around himself. Thinking ahead, he grabbed one of the extra blankets in the campfire chairs and tossed it to Fennec just as she reached them. She caught it easily then wrapped it around herself and joined him by the fire, taking the seat next to Din’s.
She looked, for once, well-rested. A small smile graced her lips, as rare as the way her hair was flowing freely over her shoulders. It might have seemed like an insignificant detail to others, but Boba was fully aware that Fennec Shand’s hair was never down like this, and if it was, that meant she was either not in her right mind, or completely and unabashedly content. She had to feel secure and safe to have it down- it could be pulled easily, after all, and the galaxy-renowned assassin hated weakness like that. The fact that she was wearing it down told Boba a lot about how safe she felt at the moment.
“How was it?” He asked, watching Din to see when their vod’ika would wake up. Grogu was stirring already, his long ears twitching at the sound of nearby voices.
“The most satisfying thing I’ve ever done,” Fennec said, smirking despite being bundled in a blanket like an ik’aad.
“Wish I could’ve come,” Boba said enviously. He wondered just how Fennec had done it- probably a sniper shot, given her particular talents, but there were always other options as well. He truly wished he’d been there to see it, but it would have to be enough to know that his friend had killed the Emperor, even if he hadn’t been there to enjoy it in person.
The moment Fennec spoke, Din’s eyes shot open along with Grogu’s. He looked around, immediately fully awake, but when he recognized Fennec he settled back down. He bundled Grogu tighter in his blanket and leaned back in his chair. Grogu protested though and after a second of the little ad struggling to get free, Din sighed and opened the blanket, giving Grogu the ability to leap from his lap into Fennec’s.
“What the-?” She raised her eyebrows, looking surprised, but didn’t hesitate to accept the ad’ika into her own blanket, to Boba’s amusement. “When did the kid get here? What in the galaxy did y’all manage to kri- mess up while I was gone for only a few days?” She asked incredulously, eyes darting between Din and Boba.
Grogu cuddled into the assassin, and Boba raised his eyebrows when she did nothing but look down (fondly!) and make sure he was covered by her blanket. The great Fennec Shand, soft for a baby? Grogu was a miracle. Boba had never seen Fennec act so soft towards anyone before. He was half tempted to ask her if she was feeling okay, except he was reluctantly aware that Grogu did the exact same thing to him.
“I actually . . . don’t have an explanation,” Boba admitted tiredly.
At the same time, Din just muttered, “The usual amount.”
It really showed how worrying their definition of ‘usual’ was that she took it in stride, just nodding and rubbing Grogu’s ears soothingly as the ik’aad fell asleep again. “Of course you did. Did the kid just show up, like us?”
“No,” Boba winced. “At least, not here. I think he showed up at the Temple, because a Jetii youngling brought him here.”
“A Jedi?” Fennec looked interested, glancing around as if the kid was going to pop up from behind one of their chairs. “Where are they?”
Boba winced again. “Gone. They disappeared before we could grab them, but I’d say they’re fine. I checked the woods and there was evidence of a ship landing recently, and I’d say the kid went with the owners. Probably the Jetii, looking for them.”
Fennec nodded, unquestioning of Boba’s tracking skills. “So the kid’s here. Are we going to have anyone else popping’ up?”
Din sighed. “I don’t think so. The Dha'kad, it’s . . . settled. Content. It seems happy with us.”
Fennec and Boba exchanged a glance. “Sounds like we did something right then,” Fennec observed.
“Apparently,” Din muttered, glaring down at the section of blanket that hid the offending weapon. “Really wish the karking thing would just shut up, though. Now it’s just warm and buzzing all the time. Like holding an ember or something. Gets really annoying.”
Boba raised his hands. “You ain’t pawning that off on any of us, vod’ika. You can stop trying.”
Fennec snickered as Din rolled his eyes and huffed. “I’m not pawning it off,” he protested. “I think I deserve to get to complain a little, considering everything.”
“That you do,” Fennec agreed easily. “So, we have the kid now. The way I see it, we’ve got the whole band together.”
“We do,” Boba agreed. Then he realized Fennec was still missing a very vital piece of information on what all had happened while she’d been gone. “Oh, and we told Mereel, Jango and Myles about the time-travel.”
Fennec’s jaw dropped open. “I really did miss all the fun, didn’t I? How did they react?”
“Payback for being the one getting to kill the demagolka,” Boba grouched under his breath.
“They. . . Grogu shared memories with Buir, so he at least believes us,” Din crossed his arms. “Not sure about the other two. They probably need time.”
“Understandable,” Fennec nodded. “It is pretty unbelievable.”
“I was the one who caused it, and I somehow still don’t believe it.” Din sighed.
The campfire went quiet for a minute, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Din was watching Grogu, a small smile on his face. Grogu was snoring contentedly in Fennec’s lap.
Boba decided there was no more putting it off. They were all thinking it, after all.
“I think we need to talk about this,” he said. “This time-travel thing.”
Even the fire seemed to go silent for a second. To no one’s surprise, Fennec was the first to speak.
“There’s no going back, is there?” Fennec voiced what they all had in mind.
“No,” Din admitted quietly. “I don’t think so.”
Boba swallowed thickly.
For a split second, he allowed himself to mourn what he'd lost. Tatooine. The Vode . His reputation and his armor. His Gaffi staff, which was much more than just a weapon to him. It was a reminder of the family he could have had, a reminder of his duty.
It was sad that those things had been lost, yes. But as he thought about them, he only grew determined, not depressed or regretful.
Tatooine needed help, and he could provide it again. He knew without a doubt DIn and Fennec would help him do it, too. Maybe even the Mandalorians would as well, now.
His armor and reputation were easy fixes. It would only be a few years until he could take the verd'goten. And until then, he could just enjoy having his family safe and together. The buy'ce could wait a couple years.
The Gaffi staff was a different matter. He couldn’t just make himself one, that would be a dishonor to himself and the Tusken tribe. But he could make a regular staff, and while he would never earn one in this lifetime, he would always know what the Gaffi’s weight felt like in his hands, and the duty it put upon his shoulders. That was not something one could forget easily, and he refused to disappoint the tribe just because he’d been sent back in time. If anything, that only made him more determined- he could save them, now. The little Tusken child would survive, he would make sure of it. They would have good lives, on a prosperous Tatooine, if it was the last thing Boba did.
The Vode . . . the Vode would never exist, now. But he could remember them. The small encouraging glances from the kinder Alphas (and the not-so-kind. It was no secret 17 had a soft spot for Boba), Cody’s stabilizing hand on his shoulder, the way Fox had made sure he was comfortable while locked up after the whole Windu fiasco.
They would never be decanted, never meet him. Never grow up on Kamino.
Never fight in an endless war.
Never be forced to kill those they loved.
. . . Never be used as a weapon by those they hated.
Boba knew, without a doubt, that if Cody were here right now, he would be happy. He would thank Boba. Call it instinct or just the desperation of someone forced to make a hard choice, but Boba was sure of it. His vode, they would’ve approved of his actions.
Without even realizing it was happening, Boba opened his mouth and said the words circling through his mind.
“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.”
Fennec frowned, no doubt trying to translate the words, but Din’s eyes just got teary.
“I am still alive, but you are dead,” the younger boy translated for her, his voice choked with emotion. “I remember you, so you are eternal.”
The beroya’s eyes swam with grief as he looked at the fire.
“I like that,” Fennec whispered.
Din and Grogu were the last ones left at the fire. Fennec had said something about checking in on Arla, then handed Grogu to Din and disappeared with the promise to be at their tent in a few minutes. Boba had then stretched and agreed, saying he was going to get in bed and that ‘if you’re not there in a few minutes, I’m going to sic Gilmar on you tomorrow’ . Din had no doubt the threat was serious.
Din was left in his chair, Grogu in his arms. The little ad was bundled up in so many blankets it was a wonder he wasn’t hot, but he didn't seem to mind. He was making slight purring sounds, like a contented tooka.
“We’re going to get through this,” he said suddenly, surprising himself as well as Grogu. “We're going to fix it all, ad’ika.”
Grogu gurgled happily in obvious agreement. Din could almost swear he felt it, like with the Dha'kad.
The Emperor was dead, but that didn’t solve everything. There was still plenty that needed changing, and Din was going to help. It was the least he could do, after being the one to cause this all. And it wasn’t a sacrifice to help his aliit. If Boba woke up the next morning and decided to liberate all the slaves on Tatooine, Din would just nod and ask when they were leaving.
There was just one thing he needed to do, before they got to work fixing the galaxy.
“Grogu?”
Grogu looked up at him with wide eyes, the embers of the fire reflected in them. He was smiling, his hands clutching the Mythosaur pendant Din had given him all that time ago. Din’s heart clenched seeing it again.
Yes? Grogu seemed to ask, putting his hand up on Din’s cheek.
“Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Grogu Djarin.”