Vibrant Eyes | Din Djarin

1: The

Din Djarin wasn't exactly known for being the good guy. 

He certainly wasn't the bad guy by any standard means but he wasn't good either. Simply, he was trying to survive. And the way he chose to go about it placed him into the gray area between those realms of good and bad.

There were different shades of gray, he'd learned as a foundling. Light and darker than the rest and yet still neither light nor dark. Good and bad and right were falsities created to soothe frightened masses and calm the storms this galaxy had to offer. They had no place in his life.

And that gray within which he lived meant he passed as an oddity and, perhaps, a grump. But nothing more than another bounty hunter trying to get by. Well, and a Mandalorian one, too. They never failed to notice that.

So it came as a surprise to all of them when, upon being given the choice, Din took a hard glance at paths of darker and lighter grays before him; and he chose.

So he stormed an imperial facility and rescued the very child he'd handed over just before, narrowly escaping the planet with protection from his covert. 

He had no plans after that point, to be honest. His only goal became to keep the Child safe from those that wished to harm it but, well, that meant he had to learn how not to harm it. In his life, children weren't a complete rarity. Often the halls of the covert were filled with them; foundlings or not. Some old enough for a helmet, some not. But he only saw those children in passing, if that. Din was as far from involved with them as one could be.

One would have thought he might have thought about taking a child under his care more thoroughly, but now he had the kid and had no idea what to do with it. He mostly just stuck it in a seat and hoped for the best most of the time. There wasn't exactly time to plan the future and technicalities when running under heavy fire.

Besides, who even knew what the Child was? Because he certainly didn't and that meant figuring out what it ate, how it communicated, how it slept, and all of the other things that came with parenthood. Parenthood. Of all of the people surprised at this turn of events, there was no one more than him. 

Suddenly he was a... parent. Or something like that. And he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

But he did his best nonetheless.

For months they managed alone, searching from planet to planet for somewhere to hide. Somewhere secluded and private, quiet and remote. Where no one would ever find them.

Sorgan had all of this and less. It was perfect. Or, it was, until a former shock trooper by the name of Cara Dune kindly told him to leave. So that's what he was doing.

He was elbow deep in repairs and checking the mechanics for the landing gear of his Razor Crest when gravel shifted under someone's foot. He stiffened and listened as the footsteps of two people drew closer by the second. Their treads were heavy, careless, and unsure; hesitant. No threat to be found there.

Then—"Excuse me."

He ignored them.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Din sighed and ducked under the gear to get to the other side of it. "There something I can help you with?"

"Uh, yeah." They followed him around the gear and he glanced briefly to the side to see the glow of a small hand-held lantern. "Raiders."

"We have money," the other one added.

Figures.

"So, you think I'm some kind of mercenary?"