found. | Din Djarin

Two

Tatooine.

The last time I set foot here was when we rescued Han and killed Jabba the Hutt. When I thought I killed Boba.

Just about everyone here I knew as a child is dead, Luke's uncle and aunt, my father, even the damn jawa's are likely dead at this point. So I find my way into the city to find information.

I'm tempted to head straight for the bar but I know that there is one person I should see first.

Peli Motto at her hanger.

"I'll be damned," she says when she lays eyes on me. "Kyra Kenobi, how many years has it been?"

"Five give or take," I answer having actually missed this place. It's not Mandalore but it was a second home. One with no responsibility or reputation to uphold, here I was free. "A long time."

"What brings you here?" she asks as she takes a peek at my ship and cringes.

"Business," I answer, watching the droids as they start giving my ship a once over. "I was hoping we could chat?"

Her face falls. "Oh no that doesn't sound good."

I try to give her a reassuring smile but she knows me well enough to be hesitant to say the least. "Let's have a drink first."

~

And so I sit and listen as she tells me what's happened on Tattooine these past few years which is nothing good.

Over and over in my mind as she's speaking I replay those final moments with Boba Fett, slicing him down the middle with my saber, not enough to cut through the beskar but enough to throw him off balance, enough for him to fall into the sarlac pit. I can't fathom how he could have survived but it's Boba Fett. The worst ones always live.

Mandalorians are rare these days, and there's no doubt that if anyone here has seen a Mandalorian they'd remember. Even if that bastard wasn't a true Mandalorian.

"You're quiet," she notes when she finishes talking and finally asks "What's this business that's brought you back here after all these years."

"I'm looking for a Mandalorian," I tell her and I notice how her eyes widen, the panic I feel from her. "You've seen him."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she tries to lie but I see through it. "If there was a Mandalorian here I'd know."

Before I can further the interrogation the sound of a ship landing interrupts us and she swears under her breath. "Stay here."

So I raise my hands in submission and wait until she's gone until I jump to my feet and with a hand on my blaster find my way to the door.

From there I watch as an old Razor Crest model lands and already I know it's not good news. A ship that's off the radars of both the Empire and the Republic. At least it's not Slave I.

The door opens and then I see him clear as day.

A Mandalorian.

"Mando," she says nervously. "I've got a lady here who's looking for you."

Except it's not him. It's not Boba.

But a true Mandalorian.

It's actually a pleasant surprise.

"Hello there," I say and she shakes her head at me, mouthing silent warnings.

He looks between me and her and immediately pulls his blaster on me. "You here for the kid?"

Out of instinct my blaster is now in my hand, aimed at his head although I know it won't pierce the beskar it will sure knock the wind out of him.

"Who the blazes are you?"