Sometimes, just sometimes if he was very, very honest with both himself and the kid, Din would think about trying to find other mandalorians.

From his covert.

Finding out if they had joined another covert or maybe made a new one if enough of them had survived. The Armorer had confirmed that some of them had escaped and he knew the none-combatant, the few elderly and the foundlings they had at the very least escaped.

Though calling them noncombatant wasn’t quite right.

After all, no mandalorian, with or without a weapon, could be called harmless.

There were just some that weren’t front line fighters and would be ushered to safety before others.

There was no shame in it.

Warriors past their prime that had lived a long life of fighting and children yet to become soldiers or swear their resol’nare.

Yet still able to to defend themselves.

And Din, despite all the days he had flown off of and out into the galaxy, wanted to find them, settle his own foundling into the care of the pack, maybe eat a proper meal that he didn’t have to buy…

Oh, Din was a horrible cook, he was more than willing to admit that and therefore set aside credits to buy food the kid could eat out with, proper food with proper nourishment, like the bone broth.

It had a lot of minerals and vitamins, something Din figured the kid needed considering he ate a whole frog.

Rehydrated rations were a maker-sent blessing, since Din’s diet could be… solitary.

Considering he somehow managed to set fire to the Razor Crest little kitchen last time he tried to make something proper, it was better that way.

His cupboards prior to the child was mostly full of rehydrated bread pouches, cups of noodles and ration bars. Oh and a dish of salted blue butter, if you used warm water, you got warm bread and Din enjoyed the melted salty butter taste it got when it was warm.

But all of that made him think of the covert, made him think of the kitchen in the covert, about the mix of betas, alphas and omegas that made meals everyday for the entire covert to come and eat if they wanted.

Never a morsel wasted, leftovers always used and always enjoyed, food eaten later if they didn’t show up during the actual dinner time.

And if he in particular thought of Paz Vizla, settled in front of one of the stoves with a large pot of tiingilar, the alpha laughing as he added beer and spices to the dish along with soft bread to dip into the sauce and get every little bit of delicious spot of sauce.

It was good food.

Full of warmth and filling and Din always made sure to grab a full bowl of it once he was sure Paz was out of view due to how conflict filled their relationship was, not wanting to bloat the alpha’s head.

That thought lead him to a dark alcove, armors off with thick arms wrapped around Din, a low alpha rumbling in his ear as Din let himself rest.

So far, Din had meet several alphas, hell, he had even started weaning himself off his suppressors and only wore the scent removers when his anxiety got the better of him.

Oh the look on Xi’an and Ranzar’s faces had been precious, Din had laughed himself to tear about it for days after.

But none of those alphas measured up to Paz.

And maybe, in those secret little wishes, his fantasy hoped that Paz was alright, that the alpha was… waiting on him.

“I think I got my head screwed on wrong,” He sighed, looking at the kid as he paused in eating a cookie. “…Where in the world did you get that?” The kid of course just cooed at him before giggling.

Bemused, Din watched him before shaking his head slowly.

Well, this was the same kid that ate a live frog, so at this point he was sure that an old cookie wouldn’t harm him, because Din seriously could not remember buying in any cookies in a long while.

Or maybe the kid stole it in their last planet hop.

Sounded like him, little mischievous womp rat.

The thought was fond however and Din released his belt to stand, moving over to pick the kid up and settle him on his hip. “So, lets go see about this Jedi that Kryze talked about, huh?” He bounced him a bit, lips twitching into a smile when the kid instantly cooed and giggled.

The dip in the ocean hadn’t been too good for Din but at least he wasn’t feeling as under the weather and having the kid like this… well it helped.

Having weaned himself off his suppressors, his instincts were helping out too and he lifted him up to his neck, feeling an ear brush his neck before there was a noise and the kid made happy little cooing noises.

This close, the kid could smell Din like no one else had, the lack of suppressors, no scent wipers and the closeness to the slight opening in his kute not keeping the smell as wrapped up as Din used to.

Rubbing the kids back, Din wondered…

Would Paz like his scent?

He had been virtually scentless or upset when they were together last, no clear read on him due to that. But Paz had tried to scent him as best he could with his wrists pressing gently to the few exposed areas Din had, leaving his own scent on Din even if Din had no scent.

But now he was without chemical altering in his systems, he’d soon be fully done weaning himself and with the little gaps in his kute…

That was if Paz was even alive, Din hadn’t seen his helmet in the pile but…

He tightened his grip on the kid.

No, he had no other choice but to think that Paz was alright, he was a Vizla.

And a big shabuir like him would fight to survive and to protect.

The kid tapped his clawed hand on Din’s pauldron, cooing more worriedly now and Din let out a shuddering breath. “Its alright pup, I’m just… thinking. Just thinking.” Din whispered, smiling sadly when he felt the little one stroke gently between the nooks of his pauldron and cuirass.

For a moment, he was tempted to pull off his helmet, to press a kiss to the little one’s head.

He settled for a gentle ear stroke, humming quietly as the kid settled and went back to eating what was left of the cookie, the two cuddled up into each other for just a few precious moments.

Neither thought about the fact that maybe in a few days, Din might have to give up on the child or the pain that would come with separation.

No, for just a few moments, the galaxy didn’t exist, only they and the Razor Crest did.