Chapter Text
“I’m sorry. I will make sure to pack snacks next time.”
Grogu had gotten hungry more than an hour ago, but Din had been afraid to call a recess. If he let them take lunch, the senators would just spend the time coming up with more arguments. But it did mean the kid was more than a little irritated just now.
Din had Moss put in an order for lunch including a shake for him and a few options for Grogu including frogs. He needed to be careful about bribing the kid, but he felt bad for not planning ahead better.
When the podium pod thing dropped into the room below the Senate Dome, Zor was waiting with the usual cluster of Senate Guards. Their lekku were strictly regulated and stiff, hiding their feelings.
“Chancellor, Dutchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore has been trying to reach you.”
Din glanced to Goran Awaud, who said, “Did you tell her the Senate was in session?”
“Yes,” Zor said, sounding more than a little frustrated. Their lekku twisted in what Din was fairly certain was a rather nasty insult. “She has… demanded that you comm her immediately once the session ended.”
“I will always do my best to make time for Mandalorians.” Din had told his aides as much after his first meeting with Goran Awaud. “However, I will not permit them to disrespect my… staff.” He thought that was the correct term. “Next time someone insults you, block the call and inform me.” He stroked Zor’s shoulder in a manner he knew was the closest equivalent he could manage for a Ryl comfort and apology.
“Thank you, Chancellor. I shall.” Zor flashed their teeth at him, and he nodded in understanding.
“We kept your afternoon clear as the Jedi expected to be in touch,” Moss Fay’Jag said. They were corralling Din toward the hall to his office. It was subtle, but Din knew when he was being herded. “Do you wish to make the Dutchess wait until after?”
“Goran, your advice?” Din did not know this Dutchess and knew only a few stories.
Goran Awaud sighed. “Best to get it over with. Unfortunately, for a woman who professes adhering to pacifism, she has a terrible temper. I fear she is upset about Ko-Katan.”
“Concerns for one’s children are appropriate.”
“Yes, well, she won’t admit her concern is for her child. Everyone knows Ko-Katan is hers, but she insists he’s a nephew, even though her only sibling was too young to give birth when he was born.” Goran Awaud sounded disappointed more than anything else.
“Why would she deny the child?” Din found the very idea abhorrent.
“No one is completely sure. Some assume it was rape during her run from Kyr’tsad after her buir’s death. Others think she is trying to protect the other parent. Again, because of the timing. Most accept that she was traumatized by spending a year on the run.”
“I would like more details when we have time.” Din would listen and learn before he condemned the Dutchess for not finding her child a parent. There were many other Mandalorians who would have welcomed a child. “For now, Zor, please arrange the comm in ten minutes.” That would let Din suck down his shake and let Grogu get started on his lunch.
***
Okay, Din should have made it half an hour. Grogu was in an absolute mood and playing with his lunch more than eating it by the time the comm clicked on. In fact, Grogu immediately threw a third vegetable through the comm projection. This one also slammed into the floor to ceiling window with a concerning crash. Din expected the guards would be doing a structural check of the glass before the night was over.
“Apologies, Duchess Kryze.” Din scooped the kid off the desk. “Go, hunt. Zor, release the frogs, please.”
When he returned his attention to the screen, Dutchess Kryze was looking pale, blonde, and horrified.
“Children,” Din said with a shrug.
“Chancellor Beroya?” Dutchess Kryze asked hesitantly.
“Ah, yes. I am Chancellor Beroya. And I believe you are Dutchess Kryze of Mandalore.” She nodded and Din tried to see any relation to Bo-Katan. Maybe in the way she held her nose in the air. “So why were you harassing my staff about wanting to see me?”
The dutchess glared and, yeah, Din saw the resemblance. Definitely blood kin. Maybe cousins.
“My senator says you’ve taken my nephew as a hostage—”
Din cut her right off. “I take no hostages. We are not at war. He volunteered to be involved and we suggested an internship. I’m told it’s an excellent opportunity for a future planetary leader.”
She sneered at him. “If you think taking Korkie will force the New Mandalorians to kowtow to your bloodthirsty ways—”
Goran Awaud interrupted this time, his buy’ce clinking onto Din’s desk as he stepped into camera range. “Did you listen to the recent Senate session at all, Dutchess? The Chancellor has repeatedly refused to simply declare war without further evidence of need and has at most agreed to consider a defensive force of trained soldiers from various planets peacekeeping organizations.”
“Defense of self and family is key, but unnecessary bloodshed is what has destroyed any stability in Manda’yaim for generations.” DIn had managed to get that clear between what he’d learned in his own time and in the past few days. “I have no desire to encourage unnecessary bloodshed in the Republic.”
The dutchess sneered again, but it seemed to have lost a slight edge of disdain. “All bloodshed is unnecessary.”
“Only if both parties agree,” Din countered. “You cannot force others to agree to peace except by conquest and slavery.”
That earned a very faint flinch, but Din was proud of getting that much from someone with a clearly excellent sabaac face.
“Mandalore will not join this war.”
“There is no war at present. And I acknowledge Mandalore’s stance, as I did this morning with your senator.” Din was getting tired of fencing with words. It was not his strength.
Grogu chose that moment to jump back onto the desk, a frog hovering over his head. He walked up to Din and floated the frog closer.
“No thank you, ad’ika,” Din said, then had to endure the kid pushing the squirming frog against his buy’ce. Din carefully pulled the damp amphibian off his view screen and held it by one flipper. “No, really, I’m good. These are for you.”
He glanced over to the projection as the kid gulped down his last frog, legs getting in a kick or two on the way down, and watched the dutchess quite possibly turn green. It was hard to tell with the color shift of the projection.
At least the kid was polite enough to offer Din one of the napkins from lunch, floating it over so Din could wipe his buy’ce. “I appreciate that, ad’ika.” He then dropped the napkin over Grogu’s head. It didn’t cover as much of the kid as it would have a year ago. He really should see if anyone on Coruscant knew anything about Grogu’s species while he was stuck here.
Grogu giggled and battled with the napkin like an ikaad.
Din smiled under his buy’ce, once again glad he was safe behind it and free to show all feelings. “I understand wanting to protect your child, Dutchess Kryze. I assure you, your ad is safe as my own child.”
Satine blustered incoherently for a moment, possibly blushing a little. “I will hold you to that, Chancellor. Should anything happen to my nephew under your care…” Her emphasis on ‘nephew’ was pointed.
“Haat, ijaa, haa'it, Dutchess,” Din vowed, pressing his fist to his karta beskar. “Ko-Katan Kryze is under my protection. I will guard him as my own child.”
She managed another sneer. “See that you do.” And the connection cut out.
“Well, she is going to be trouble,” Goran Awaud said. He lifted the evil napkin from Grogu, who had fallen over in battle at this point.
“But perhaps her heir will be more reasonable,” Din added, thinking of Korkie’s actions that morning. He’d offered solid suggestions during the remainder of their meeting. “Assuming the Evaar’la decide to continue with parent to child inheritance.”
“Hmm, well, the good news is even Satine will likely outlive her current council. Worst bunch of corrupt hut’uun I’ve seen outside of the Republic Senate.”
Din made note of that.
He needed to investigate a lot of things. Taking down a few corrupt governments, or government officials at least, sounded like a good use of his time in office.
Though the thought of taking on such a mountainous task on his own was enough to make him want to cry. He missed his friends. He was no longer a lone beroya, and now he was back to being alone in a strange place.
Grogu must have sensed Din’s mental wanderings, because he ditched the play and scrambled up to plaster himself to Din’s breastplate.
“Hey, kid,” Din murmured, pressing one hand to Grogu’s back and stroking his ear with the other. “Yeah, I know I’ve got you.” And the Mando’ade of Keldeb’ika. He wasn’t completely alone. He knew how to build networks. He could do this.
“Chancellor?”
Din forced himself to refocus on the rest of the office. One of the aides didn’t know the name of was standing there while trying to shrink away. “Yes?”
“The Jedi have an update for you?” The question was emphasized by a hunch of their shoulders that threatened to swallow their head in the neck of their robes. Which was particularly difficult for a Mon Calamari.
He was going to have to work on this one. Those hesitant responses were going to get old. “Here or on comm?”
“Both?”
Din repressed a sigh. “Goran, I would welcome your insights on this meeting.”
“It would be my pleasure, Chancellor. Aide, please send in the Jedi representative,” Goran Awaud said, claiming a chair before the desk.
“If this thing wasn’t blaster proof, I’d get rid of it,” Din commented, poking at the absurdly gaudy thing.
Grogu giggled and turned to face the opening door.
“I’m sure you could sell it to some merchant king for enough to replace it with something equally blaster resistant and more… to your aesthetic.”
Huh. That was a nice thought. But Din was distracted by Grogu launching himself across the room… to land in Master Koon’s arms.
Din rose. “Master Koon. Master Windu. Master… Gallia.” Din had to dig for that last one. He hadn’t seen her in a few days and that first day was still a bit of a blur.
“Chancellor Beroya,” they all said together as they bowed most formally. “Vice Chancellor.”
It made Din’s skin crawl.
“You have an update?”
“Good news,” Master Koon said with what was definitely a species equivalent of a smile. “Our recovery team has made it a safe distance from Geonosis and reported in.”
Din waved to the seats and accepted Grogu back as the Jedi settled in.
“Good news on most fronts,” Master Windu said. “They got in and out with minimal notice and retrieved Knight Kenobi, his padwan, and Senator Amidala.”
Din frowned at this. “Padwan?”
“His student. Anakin Skywalker is in his late teens,” Master Koon said, relieving Din’s initial burst of panic.
“You did not mention this padwan earlier. Why?” Din asked, tone dark. Late teen or not, Skywalker (Skywalker?) the risk to a student should have been acknowledged.
“He was supposed to be on Naboo guarding Senator Amidala in secret,” Master Windu said with a fair amount of irritation.
“Supposed to be?” Din asked that as a cover as he mentally reviewed what he knew of the missing Senator who’s junior senator had apparently proposed the emergency powers Din had inherited.
“It’s complicated,” Master Gallia said with diplomatic calm. “The team is remaining out of hyperspace to update you. If you will accept the comm?”
“Yes,” Din said shortly. He stroked Grogu’s ear as he waited for the comm to connect with the Jedi ship. He couldn’t help but wonder about Jango and Boba.
The connection was made and three figures in spacer garb appeared along with what looked like a pretty battered jedi.
“Chancellor Beroya.” Two of the spacers bowed like Jedi along with the one in robes. The third, a delicate human or near-human, just nodded their head. “Masters.”
Grogu studied the figures and let out a soft coo.
“Chancellor Beroya, I am Senator Amidala. I extend my thanks for the subtle rescue.”
DIn filed away her identity. “You owe the Jedi your thanks.”
She raised her eyebrow, but nodded.
“Where is Padewan Skywalker?” Master Windu asked.
The figure in the battered Jedi garb winced. “He did not take word of the Chancellor’s… Ah, previous chancellor’s passing well.”
One of the spacers, a Kiffar with traditional facial tattoo and locs, scoffed. “He threw a fit. We had to sedate him.”
Master Windu grumbled under his death.
Din cocked his head. “Why would a jetti’ad be so upset by the death of the Chancellor of the Senate?”
Oddly, the Jedi, Knight Kenobi presumably, rubbed his beard and Master Windu rubbed his forehead. Both looked distressed.
“They were friends,” Knight Kenobi answered. “Anakin was a strong factor in our successful rescue of Naboo from the Trade Federation blockade ten years back. Then Senator Palpatine met him and insisted on building a relationship.”
Din glanced at Master Gallia. “He was a child. Was this relationship monitored?” Not to mention what was a child doing involved in ending a planetary blockade at seven? Eight?
Windu blanched, as did Gallia. Koon looked puzzled.
“I have not heard back on the investigation into Chancellor Palpatine, but I found a drawer of children’s clothes when I first took over his office.”
Knight Kenobi’s mouth dropped open and the Kiffar snarled.
“I told you. I told you it was wrong for the Council to send a child to visit a senior politician, no matter what he threatened.”
“The investigation is incomplete,” Master Gallia said, but there was a tremor in her voice. “It may still be innocent. We will discuss this further when you return to Coruscant.”
“Yes, we will,” Din said flatly. He would step in if he needed to. He wanted to ensure the Jedi children were safe. He did not like the idea that a politician had threatened the Jedi for access to a child and succeeded. Grogu was safe with him, but what of the other children. What if there was another Grogu in the Temple.
Oh. That was a terrifying thought.
“We are here to discuss what you saw on Geonosis,” Master Windu said through clenched teeth.
Knight Kenobi began detailing the number of droid manufacturing plants, backed up by the others. Apparently also present on planet had been representatives of the Trade Federation, Banking Clans, and Techno Union, all led by a former Jedi named Dooku.
Who had claimed there was a Sith in the Senate. The Jedi did not bring up the assumptions about Palpatine being a Sith, and this time Din refrained as well.
“I’m sorry you had to meet your grandmaster this way,” Master Koon said at the end of the recital.
“Grandmaster?” Din asked. He’d been mostly overwhelmed by the whole conversation and was finally admitting he had no way to get out of this war.
“My master, my baji, was taught by Master Dooku once. We are of the same lineage,” Knight Kenobi said.
“He is your ba’buir,” Din countered. He was enjoying having someone from the Jedi speak in terms he really understood.
Knight Kenobi cocked his head. “In a sense. Though we don’t usually put it in those terms.”
Din snorted. “Student, apprentice, child. In Mando’a it’s all the same.”
Knight Kenobi smiled a surprisingly soft smile. “Haat.”
Din decided to save further questions for later. Except one. “Did you pass my message on to Fett?”
Knight Kenobi cocked his head in a sign of curiosity but the two spacers shook their heads.
“We had to avoid as many as possible to keep the escape quiet. And Skywalker riled them all up quite bad, though your ascension also made for a nice distraction. Still, Dooku was keeping Fett close at hand and we couldn’t risk trying to approach him.”
“I’m surprised he’d go anywhere near Dooku after Galladran.” Everyone ignored the soft mutter from Master Koon.
“Better safe than sorry,” Master Windu said. “I’m sorry, Chancellor. We will attempt to contact the template another time.”
Din shook his head. “I’ll find another way.” Making contacts with bounty hunters would probably get Din further than the Jedi, given some of the stories the Alore had told Din about Jango Fett and his… issues with Jedi.
Legitimate issues. But that was a discussion for another day.
“I will want to speak further when you return, Knight Kenobi,” Din said. “And Senator Amidala, your insights will be needed in deciding on next steps with the Senate.”
“It would be my honor, Chancellor,” Senator Amidala said as Knight Kenobi bowed.
“Ret'urcye mhi, Chancellor Beroya.”
Din sat through the remainder of the conversation in silence, listening as the Jedi discussed probable arrival times and how to convince the Senate of their team’s observations. Finally the Jedi left.
“Knight Kenobi is the only Jedi who has used or even hinted at understanding Mando’a,” Din commented once it was just him, his aides, his son, and his vice chancellor.
“Well, I do believe it may have been Kenobi, then a padwan, who kept Satine Kryze alive while Kyr’tsad was gunning for her after her buir was killed.” Goran Awaud cocked his head, thinking hard. “But let me check.”
A Jedi and on the run, at the time of Ko-Katan’s conception if Din had understood the earlier conversation. Interesting. “Could explain why Kryze is protecting the father.”
Goran Awaud nodded. “It is one theory. But red hair also runs in the Kryze line. Satine’s little sister was a red head.”
“Was?”
“Well, Bo-Katan hasn’t been seen in some time. Some think she died with her buir.”
Din shook his head. Unless this was a completely different dimension, she was alive. “Try Kyr’tsad, in the night owls.”
Goran Awaud looked startled, then focused. “You’ve met her.”
“Unfortunately. I found her… a poor Mando’ad. And a worse Mand’alor.”
Grogu snorted and wiggled down into Din’s lap, curling up to take a nap.
“Interesting.”
***
Din endured another round of pointless meetings, a talk with his guards about the structural stability of the office windows, and an empty update on the investigation into the previous chancellor that could be summed up as “We cannot comment on an ongoing investigation.” Din hated the Core.
When he finally retreated to his room with a cart containing latemeal, he also brought the secure comm he had asked Goran Awaud to get him. He hoped the position of Vice Chancellor paid well because otherwise Din was going to owe the Goran a lot of money.
“There’s one other option for contacting Jango Fett,” Din told Grogu as they sat together on the absurd bed. Boba had given Din the secure line for the Slave One, and knowing Boba, it was entirely possible that it hadn’t been changed since it had been Jango’s ship.
It was risky. And might get them nowhere. And it might be the answer. It would certainly be faster than trying to make connections with the bounty hunter community. It could be years before Din could get the right contacts.
“What do you think, kid? Should we try Ba’vodu Boba’s secure comm number?”
Grogu cocked his head and studied the comm in Din’s hand for a long moment, eyes half lidded. He reached out one hand to touch Din’s, froze, and then nodded fervently.
Din sucked in a deep breath. “Right.” He punched in the number saved in his vambrace comm.
Given the distance Din expected the connection to take time. It might not connect. The best he could hope for was probably an option to leave a message.
He never expected a young face to answer. This had to be Boba.
“Who the kriff are you and how did you get this comm?” the kid asked.
Din stifled a laugh. Grogu grinned and waved. “It’s a long story, Boba Fett. I have a message for your buir.”
“Dad doesn’t talk to Mandalorians.”
Huh. That… connected with some of the things Boba had said in Din’s time. “I know. But this is important. Can you connect me?”
“Kriff no.”
Din nodded. “Will you record a message and pass it along?”
Boba studied Din curiously and with extreme suspicion. But finally he said, “I guess.”
It took only a few moments to set up to record. Din watched carefully and he was fairly sure Boba wasn’t faking it.
“Go,” Boba said.
“Jango, Clan Fett, House Mereel, I am reaching out, Mando’ad to Mando’ad. I know you have suffered at the hands of the Jedi and the Republic. What has been done creates a debt that cannot be repaid.” Kark, maybe that was too on point. Din was bad at all this talking.
“I have, unfortunately, been named Chancellor Beroya. I wish to speak with you about your children, the clones created on Kamino. I offer you amnesty to visit Coruscant or you can contact me by comm. I know you have some kind of contract with Dar’jetti Dooku. I also highly recommend you take the escape clause as soon as possible. For your sake and your ad’s.”
Din bit his lip, looking for just the right words. “The Ka’ra have warned of your death in his service. I would not see your child left without a parent if I can help it.”
Boba was frowning deeper and deeper as he listened to all this.
“Ret’urcye mhi.”
“What’s all that nonsense about the stars?”
Boba’s question startled Din.
“Not the stars, the ancient Mand’alore of years past. Some say they can send warnings. Others would call it visions from the Force.” Or so Din was beginning to suspect from various conversations. He was learning so much it was all starting to blur. And also open up whole aspects of the galaxy he’d never known of.
“You had a vision?” Boba looked intrigued.
Not exactly, but in a way, Din had. Hearing of Boba’s grief at how his buir died… Din would never forget that night of drinking. It had only been matched by Boba’s grief over his tribe in the sands. And both were griefs Din knew all too well himself.
“Nothing is fixed, but Dooku is dangerous and cares nothing for your buir. I honestly don’t understand how he can stand to work for the man who led the Jedi on Galadraan, anyway.” But that was not Din’s business. “Will you pass on the message, ad’ika?”
Boba frowned again.
“Please. I just want to help both of you.” And all your vode. But Din kept from saying the last.
Finally, Boba nodded. He manipulated several controls and said, “Sending now.”
Then the connection cut out.
Din sighed and peeled off his buy’ce, facing his son without separations. “Well, we tried.”
Grogu grinned and nodded. Then jumped over to the cart with dinner under its silver lids.
“Yes, and now it is time for latemeal.”