Cyra| a Mandalorian/Star Wars Fan Fiction

4. Leaving

I take one last look at the Homestead. The doors were shut securely, the power had been turned off, and anything remotely of value was stowed away. On me, I carried a pouch which contained some books and sentimental bits. Around my shoulder, I hauled a large duffel bag which contained all the essentials. I reach my hand out, and touch the walls of the domed entrance, closing my eyes. Trying to feel every ounce of history this little burrow held. Trying to show it my gratitude.

I stay there for a few moments. Sighing, I open my eyes, taking in one last look, before turning my back. In the distance, I saw the glimmers of Din's silver armour and ship. I began to walk towards him. I thought walking away from the Homestead would be harder than this, but I felt some sense of freedom as the outline Din's ship grew. As the suns began to slowly set in the distance, the exact outline of the ship was increasingly difficult to make out.

'Oh my god...' I utter, as the ship became more obvious with every step. It was a model I had never seen in person before. Its rusting grey outer-metal revealed its age, with layers of chipped paint failing to conceal it. It looked ancient.

Din stood by the opening, which was in the centre of the ship, the door above his head. As I grew closer, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide my disdain.

'Ready?' He asked, as he held his hand out to take my duffel bag.

'Din, how old is this ship?' I ask, passing the bag to him as he threw it inside.

'The Clone Wars,' I felt my eyes widen in shock. 'It's a modified transport ship.' Din stepped inside.

I was speechless.

'What?'

'The Clone Wars, Din?' I stand, looking back and forth from him to the ship repeatedly. 'It's prehistoric.'

Din looked down at me, elevated slightly inside the ship.

'So, are you getting on?'

I scoffed lightly. It wasn't like I had much choice at this point. As I stepped inside, admittedly the interior was a lot nicer than the exterior. There was a degree of homeliness to it. The only way I could describe it was there was a lot of stuff dotted around. Most of it didn't make much sense. But over the metal interior walls were various bits of paper with things on them, like planets, advertisements, even some drawings.

'That one's collection. He's become a bit of hoarder,' Din said, nodding towards Grogu, who sat on one of the chairs in the cockpit. Grogu grinned lightly back at me. 'Right...'

Din pressed a button, and the door shut closed. 'You ready?'

'I guess,' I reply, as Din walked to the front of the ship, sitting in the seat besides Grogu.

'Move him to the back, so you can sit up front,' Din called out, preparing the ship. I walked over, and smiled down at Grogu. He held out his arms, and I picked him up, tucking him under my hip.

Grogu hadn't changed in looks. He was perhaps a little heavier, but not by much. The little guy seemed to radiate comfort. The force connected the two of us in a way that is difficult to describe. I walked back to the end of the ship, placing him in his little den in the back corner. Grogu happily curled up, and began to play with his collection of random collated objects.

I take the seat next to Din.

'You know how to fly yet?' He asks me, flipping some switches.

'Not exactly been ample of opportunity over the past few years. So, no,' I reply. The engine begins to purr. That's when it hits me. 'Din, where are you taking me?