Paz Vizla

SeveredStomach: I noticed that Boba was doing most of the heavy lifting at the moment.  I wanna see Paz doing something for Din, either he notices something because he’s known Din longer, or he just happens to catch on first.

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Eyeing the stew thoughtfully, Paz looked around the empty kitchen warily for a few seconds before reaching up hesitantly and removing his helmet to set on the counter, quickly sticking the ladle down into the stew, lifting it and pouring sauce and vegetable bits onto his tasting spoon.

He blew on it, reluctantly, knowing better than to stick the hot food into his mouth before finally tasting it, thoughtfully tasting the sauce as he put the spoon down and putting his helmet back on, his tense shoulders relaxing down as the HUD came up.

Even now, despite their covert being destroyed, being without his helmet was… discomforting to Paz and he knew Din felt the same, even if he was getting better about being exposed to Boba and Fennec.

But those two were different.

They were aliit now, allowed, Paz was just… slow. Struggling to adapt and there was no way he’d expose himself to any random asshole coming into the kitchen.

Thankfully none of the three of them blamed him, they were almost horribly understanding to Paz insecurities.

‘Then again, Din likely thinks the same about us and our treatment of him.’ Paz thought dryly, casting his mind back to when the other had fallen asleep against Boba’s knee in the karking throne room.

They had been so worried, Paz only barely managing to wait until the throne room emptied out before he picked up Din and carried him to Boba’s room. Boba still had to be the one to remove the helmet, Paz freezing up at the idea of doing it but…

Well, Din had simply been asleep as a proper check had told them, as confusing as that had been.

A bit of research, Din still sleeping, had given them the answers they needed.

It was that karking dumping thing again, apparently Paz cake had given the other dumping, causing Din to become so tired his body had shut down and he had fallen asleep this time. Fennec had outright printed out the dumping syndrome information for both Boba and Paz to keep an eye on, to know what to look for in the future.

The list wasn’t… pretty.

The list of symptoms were going to be hell on Din for sure if they didn’t regulate his intake. It also depressed Paz a bit to realize that several of the traditional recipes he had learned wouldn’t be so easy to feed Din, seeing as grease, fat and sugar could kick him into dumping syndrome.

It was actually why he was down in the kitchen, revising some of the old recipes, grateful that at least the medication Boba had gotten Din made it possible for the other to eat spices, as most mandalorian cuisine leaned heavily on hot dishes.

It meant that he wouldn’t have to cut that out of the dishes and Din would be able to eat at least partly what he was used to, even if Din generally survived on a diet of shitty rations and dehydrated stuff while on a hunt.

Still, while in the palace, Paz was determined to spoil the other.

Which meant reworking a few of the recipes from the Vizsla clan vast cookbook, a few which Paz suspected had come from other planets if he was honest, seeing as they contained ingredients sometimes only found on one planet and it was not Mandalore.

A sound echoed down the hall of the kitchen, a loud step and Paz tensed before he relaxed, glancing curiously at the door. Someone knew he was there and knew he was liable to pull a blaster on whoever showed up.

So, four possible suspect, the chef Boba hired, seeing as he already pulled a gun on her once for startling him and therefore she had started making deliberate noises in case he was there, Fennec, Boba or Din, as all three knew he was there at the moment.

Unconsciously, his lips twitched into a smile when Din stepped inside in his only his undersuit and helmet, the silver helmet looking about before the other padded over to him. “You’re making inglar?” Din questioned, pleasure in his voice.

Nodding, stirring slowly, Paz added another pinch of salt to the stew. “Yeah, figured you’d appreciate something hardy, since you’re heading out tomorrow.” Paz explained, forcing himself to not tense up when the bounty hunter leaned against his arm. The contact wasn’t unwelcome, just unexpected and he didn’t want Din to pull away.

“That’s kind of you, thank you.” Din hummed out, his vocoder crackling slightly.

He got a small snort and Paz continued stirring slowly. “Seeing how I messed you up yesterday, you deserved something hardy that wouldn’t fuck you up.” He couldn’t help but state wryly, smiling more when Din let out a soft chuckle.

“In all our defenses, we had no idea that would happen.” Din stated in a slightly cheerful tone, as if he hadn’t been upset as all hells the day before when he was informed. Not that he had stated as much but all three of them had gotten good at reading Din’s body language.

Instead of answering, Paz just curled his arm around the other in a one armed hug to his side, trying not to flush at the feeling of Din leaning into his chest. “Well, anyhow,” He cleared his throat, staring into the green tinted stew. “Your hunt tomorrow, wanted you well feed before you ran of into the desert. That’s where you’re going, right?” Tilting his head to glance at Din, Paz let his arm linger around him, seeing that Din wasn’t tense or moving away.

As he was watching him, he got to see Din nod. “Yes, Boba’s target skedaddled into the Jundland wastes, idiocy if I ever heard one. Either the tuskens are gonna get her or the heat will, if I don’t find her.” He snorted slightly.

Letting out a sharp snort of his own as he turned his faze to the pot on the stove, Paz simply nodded, enjoying the warmth of the other’s body. If there was anything Paz had come to learn, it was that Tatooine was hot as hell and that he was lucky to access as much water as he could to keep hydrated, all thanks to Boba. “Well, Boba does want the moron alive, but you know tusken signs, so if needed, you could barter with them.” He stated a tad dryly, breath hitching slightly as a low, warm chuckle came from beside him.

Honestly, if this was a year ago… he couldn’t imagine this.

But by Manda’s glass, he was happy he had it.

Aliit = Clan, family.

how’s the hunt for luke going in need for touch? i wonder if grogu is having as hard a time without his dad as din is without his kiddo…

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Tucking Din’s leg, which had fallen out at some point back under their blanket, Paz reached out and stroked the others hair out of his face, observing the worn lines on his face.

But, well, at least Din was sleeping peacefully.

That bought a smile to Paz lips and he couldn’t resist leaning in to gently press a soft kiss to the apple of Din’s tanned cheek, feeling the scratch of stubble beneath his lips.

He wanted to linger in that moment, the softness, the sight of Din peacefully resting but Boba had called and therefore Paz straightened and put his helmet on, leaving his bond promised behind in their den to meet up with the other alpha.

Hopefully it meant good news, though it had been weeks since the two decided to try to find the Jedi.

Quietly, Paz closed the door behind himself, nodding to a passing guard in the slightly cool hall and made his way down the hall towards the throne room. Since Boba had added him to the scanner, Paz knew it would let him in as Boba also expected him and seeing as it was night time and only trusted people were left in the palace, Paz only worn his helmet, worn out thin sleep pants and a t-shirt that was frankly a tad too small.

Paz made a concentrated effort not to stretch in the thing, flushing a bit when a beta guard in the throne room suddenly perked up with interest, her eyes obviously tracing over the taut material and the bulk of his arms. She kept watching him closely as he crossed to the back of the throne to enter the King’s quarters and he could feel her eyes on him until the door closed behind him.

If Din had seen it, he would have gotten grumpy for sure, no one in the palace was ignorant that Paz and Din were bond promised after all.

Admittedly, it was a tad flattering to get the attention Paz had to admit, in the privacy of his own head. But there was only one person for him and that was Din, no one else measured up to the mighty beroya of the covert.

That he had managed to catch Din’s attention and keep it was not something he was willing to risk.

“Paz, there you are, I was wo-what the hell are you wearing?” Boba paused mid sentence, blinking bemusedly up at Paz from his position on the wing of the L shaped couch, his armor on its stand with Boba dressed in one of his black robes.

“My sleep wear?” Paz returned, equally bemused as he padded over and sat down near the other alpha. “I mean, I was in bed when you called. I’m honestly shocked it didn’t wake Din.” He shrugged a tad.

Boba eyed the hot pink if slightly faded t-shirt Paz was wearing that was clearly a size too small before letting out an amused snort with a head shake. “Well, I… anyhow, I found a lead on Skywalker, though I’m not sure its a valid one. I also sent a message to Organa that I want to speak with her brother.” He explained, looking down at the pad on his lap.

Leaning a bit forward to peer at it, Paz squinted a bit at the tiny letters on the tablet before shaking his head and looking back at Boba’s face. “A lead?” He questioned hopefully, settling a bit against the back of the couch.

Boba glanced at him, snorting at the sight of the t-shirt riding up on his stomach before he scrolled through his pad and brought up a map that he showed Paz.

Squinting at it, Paz let out a noise as he saw a tracked route leading from Coruscant to somewhere out along Outer Rims and he looked to Boba in confusion.

The man tapped his nail on the pad. “This? This is a shipping line from Organa to somewhere else. Medical supplies, freeze dried food along with long storage food, different fabrics, some motor parts for ships and speeders and sometimes other things are on the shipment list. I suspect she’s shipping supplies to her brother and his temple.” He explained to the mandalorian.

A noise of understanding escaped Paz. “That makes sense, I mean, they can’t make everything on one planet, wouldn’t have the resources to do that… could I take a look at the shipment lists?” He questioned.

Scrolling through the pad and bringing up the lists, Boba handed the pad to Paz to look through. “Organa might be willing to give us information or at least send Skywalker a message, if she decides to talk to me. If nothing less, her getting one to her golden brother would at least alert Skywalker to Din’s difficulties.” Boba murmured quietly as Paz read.

“Mmmn, hopefully. I don’t know much about this Skywalker but to take a adiik from an already injured omega…” Paz shook his head, grimacing.

He only looked away from the pad when the other let out a deep sigh. “Look, I’m not gonna defend Skywalker but… he’s not a bad person. Not really. I don’t really get what was going through his or Din’s head back on that cruiser but… there’s more to the story than what we get at least and if he knew the effect it would have on Din, I don’t think he would have done it.” Boba rubbed at his scarred face slowly and tiredly.

After weeks of a despondent Din, Paz wasn’t feeling quite so charitable however and only let out a vague noise of understanding, turning his attention back to the lists. As he did, he started to see a common denominator. “…There’s no fruit on this list.” He said slowly.

He felt Boba shift closer, but continued scrolling, flickering his eyes quickly over the letters.

“No vegetables either.” Paz mumbled, eyes widening with slight realization just as Boba let out a deep hum.

“They’re somewhere green. Green and fertile.” Boba stated with conviction, conviction Paz shared as excitement started to bubble in his chest.

Somewhere green and fertile in the outer rims that they could grow fresh produce.

‘Hold on adi’ika, soon your buir will see you again.’

Adiik = Child

Adi’ika = little one

Buir = parent

May we please get more Dinpaz in NeedForTouch? Like seeing how Din is healing and Paz is supporting him? Or if you’re comfortable with this, having Luke take Grogu for a visit to Tatooine to see Boba, Din, and Luke?

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Setting the glass down in front of the other, biting the inside of his cheek so not to laugh at the sight of the silly straw in it while making a note to give the bartender a raise, Boba sat down with his own drink and a deep sigh. “So, you’d say he’s doing better?” He questioned quietly.

His eyes were locked on Paz as the mando reached down and picked up the glass of booze, sticking the straw under his helmet to take a sip. And to buy himself some time to think likely about his answer.

“That is… subjective I’d say.” Paz finally answered, leaning back in the booth.

Seeing as he wanted to have a private conversation with Paz, Boba had opted to find the other and settle into a talk in the usual alcove the big blue warrior had taken as ‘his’ spot in the throne room, everyone recognizing that this was pack talk and therefore staying away.

Or well, most of them.

There were a few nosy ones that had to be sent away with pointed blasters on the table and the two alphas visors locked on them.

Honestly, Boba really liked the spot Paz had claimed as his own. It was near an opening in the building, so any smoke wasn’t caught in the alcove and instead disappeared out, leaving it a tad fresher than some of the other places.

The couch of the alcove was also damn comfortable and Din had provided this particular alcove with lots and lots of pillows when he recognized it as Paz place.

“Subjective…” Boba repeated, taking a big gulp of his whiskey, savoring the burn down his throat. If nothing else, the core idiots knew how to make decent booze.

Paz sighed deeply and set his glass down, the pink straw clicking slightly as it curves bumped into it. He settled his elbows on his thighs and pressed his hands together between knees as he leaned slightly forward. “He’s healing, so physically, he is good. Eating for sure, taking care of himself, sparring. Don’t need us to prompt him to do it and he comes willingly for skinship thankfully but,” Paz paused, mulling over it, maybe how to put it into words. “…But he’s struggling still mentally and I wouldn’t strictly call him happy as much as just existing.” Paz finally settled on with a deep sigh.

Boba paused before nodding slowly.

So, Paz had taken note of the same thing as him then. “…He laughing around you?” He questioned lowly, sighing deeply too when Paz shook his head.

“Some weak smiles but laughing, no. He’s struggling emotionally and mentally I would bet. The loss of a pup has always been particularly bad for a dam and Din…” Paz cut himself of, grunting slightly as he shifted in discomfort.

Boba narrowed his eyes at him, slowly setting his glass down.

“…Look, things are hard for entire coverts and we had to be careful,” Paz murmured. “Din was our only beroya. It meant he was often out for weeks if not months and his buir has been dead for good over ten years, he died with Din on a mission, so Din hadn’t really… it made it difficult for him to…” He struggled but Boba already got it.

“Are you telling me that the foundling, his pup was the first proper pack connection Din had?” Boba rasped, groaning deeply when Paz nodded.

Karking hell, no wonder it had impacted Din so hard. So not only given up his adopted pup but also his first deep and proper pack connection in years. Clearly, Paz had been trying to connect at some point, else Din wouldn’t have reacted to him as he did when he found him but Din’s primary pack connection had been gone at that time.

It put a lot of things into context for Boba, having done the same thing himself but he was an alpha and he hadn’t given up a damn pup at the same time. “…I’m gonna hunt down Skywalker,” He finally grunted out, watching Paz jerk to a bit. “This can’t go on. Din needs more than just we can provide. We’re his pack, we’re bonding but its clear that giving up his pup is doing a havoc on his mental and emotional state.” He growled out quietly.

Some alphas could take that as an offense, the idea of not being able to provide for their omega, the heart of their clans and packs as without one, there wasn’t a true pack.

Some alphas would take up the challenge to just knock the omega up, as if replacing one pup with another somehow soothed it all.

Thankfully, Paz was not like that as all he did was nod. “He needs his pup.” He agreed easily.

Too easily almost.

So, Paz had thought the same too then but didn’t have the resources or know how to find Skywalker then potentially. Well, seeing as Boba wasn’t the pack head, Paz not coming to him about it wasn’t too shocking…

He and Paz were still working out their relationship in the scale of this pack, one being the mate of the omega and the other being the brother so to speak.

“Do you think Din has what it takes to be the heart of the pack?” Boba decided to change the subject, picking up his drink.

“Omegas are always hearts of the pack,” Paz returned with strongly before hesitating. “…He needs to settle in, heal fully. Seeing his pup again, holding him, that might help him flourish. So he can hold onto the position as heart of a pack.” He muttered.

Boba hummed but nodded.

Din wasn’t at his best right now, still strong, but strong walls could fall without proper attending. ‘Guess I better get to work on my information guild, Skywalker is bound to be hiding somewhere with the rest of the Jedi… but Organa is on Coruscant…’ Boba paused, glass at his lips.

Now, there was a chance to get a message that way.

Severed stomach: Din will learn about his stomach now, won’t he?

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Carefully settling Din on the honestly lavish bed of his private room, Paz tried not to glance around too much.

Honestly, if he was right, then Din hadn’t quite decorated this place on his own, this reeked of someone wanting to spoil the beroya, without Din quite knowing how to do anything but accept the gifts he was given.

‘But its nice to know he’s been cared for.’ Paz couldn’t help but think, looking up as he heard a few quiet clicks and snicks. It was Fett, opening drawers and cabinets, finding clothes for Din.

Obviously familiar with the room.

Yup, this was the one that had likely bought in all the expensive and luxurious things of the room.

Din had a bad tendency to give away more than he should and keeping less for himself.

The entire tribe had been aware of it, it was one of the reason they put their best foot forward when Din returned from his bounties.

If they looked shabby, then Din was likely to only keep enough for the most basic of supplies for his own survival. There wasn’t a verd of the covert that hadn’t heard the medic grumble to herself about the amount of cauterized scars on Din’s body.

Something Paz had gotten to see when Din had been put into the bacta tube.

From toes to shoulder, Din had clear scars bearing the marks of the cauterize tool. Simply because the man kept as little bacta as he possibly could, giving all he could to the covert.

To the younglings of the covert.

Sighing internally as Fett continued rummaging around, Paz instead sat on the edge of the bed, gently patting Din’s leg. “Its good to see you awake verd.” He murmured, not quite bringing himself to admit just how worried he was.

Din peered at him, beautiful brown eyes peering over the dark veil of his robe. After a second, they curved in a manner Paz knew indicated someone smiling even if he had never seen this particular person smile. “I’m… gratified, to… see you Paz.” The man stated a tad awkwardly.

Snorting slightly, a tad bemused, Paz stared quietly at the other man, keeping his hand on the others leg. “…Din, I’m sorry.” He finally sighed, watching how the other tilted his head.

Like a puppy, curious, a tad confused by the state of his eyes.

“For what?” The other questioned, tone bemused behind the veil.

Paz could hear that Boba had gone still by the clothing drawers and cabinet, likely suspecting what Paz was apologizing for. “Well, for one, for trying to rip your bucket off you last we saw each other,” He stated a tad dryly, smirking when Din let out a small, amused snort. But the smirk faded quickly. “…But also for fucking up your stomach.” He stated a tad more quietly.

Brown eyes blinked rapidly at that before Din reached to his own stomach, pressing his hand to it with a low noise. “My stomach?” He blinked hard, eyes flickering a tad, as if he was trying to parse out what Paz wasn’t saying.

“When we found you,” Boba finally spoke, coming over with an armload of clothes in shades of soft blue and black. “It been two days at least, likely more and you were at death’s door. You’d lost a lot of blood and there was infection setting in, we had no other option but to set a bacta injection.” Boba low voice was as soothing as possible.

As if he was dealing with a skittish animal and not a trained mandalorian.

Din’s eyes turned a tad panicked before he took a deep breath. “…How bad?” He whispered, knowing the things that could go wrong with shrapnel in bodies and bacta.

Boba and Paz exchanged looks, both had been dreading this but there was no way around it. They had to inform Din about the damage to his body. What they had done to him, to save his life.

Setting the clothes slowly down on the bed, Boba sat on the other edge of the bed. “When… when I sat the injection, the bacta healed around the shrapnel,” He answered slowly, Din’s eyes focused on him. “It was… it severed sixty percent of your stomach, closing the injury around the shrapnel. The med droid says you have basically a gastric sleeve instead of a normal stomach now.” He explained carefully.

Din stared at him, eyes slightly wide.

Boba picked up the blue shirt, showing Din the sleeve and then tightening it, making the esophagus and then a section that was suppose to be the stomach that was left. “This basically, since the bacta healed where the cut was. The med droid had to remove the section that was cut away, clean away stomach acids and… just everything.” He finished explaining.

Paz had almost thrown up as he droid had explained to both him and Boba that it had to extract the part of the stomach that had been mostly severed, along with removing pus, blood and stomach acid that had filled the open cavities of Din’s body.

Brown eyes stared at the sleeve, flickering them over where Boba was showing Din’s ‘esophagus’, the new size of the ‘stomach’ and then the ‘intestines’. It was basically all one long line now as the med droid had explained to Paz and Boba.

Shifting, Din reached up, rubbing at his face then he nodded. “I… I see. That… okay. I… that means I have to go on a special diet… doesn’t it?” He whispered, snorting shakily when Boba gave him a surprised look. “I’ve heard of sleeve stomachs before, generally for rich core worlders of course but… yeah.” He breathed out heavily and then hid his face in his hands, shaking slightly.

Overwhelmed.

Paz didn’t know what to do.

He was good at comforting younglings, keeping verd together in battle but… not this.

But Fett apparently was.

Because he instantly dropped the sleeve and reached out, pressing his hands steadily down on Din’s shoulders,  thumbs pressing into the clavicle. Paz absently noted he wasn’t wearing his gloves.

Instantly, Din’s hands shot up and he wrapped his hands around Boba’s wrists, shaking still but focusing on gripping the wrists offered to him, his thumbs visibly pressed to the underside, getting Boba’s pulse.

“That’s it, deep breaths verd’ika, in,” Fett murmured deeply, taking a. obvious, deep inhale. And Din mimicked it. “And out,” A deep exhale and Din mimicked once more. “Repeat those for me.” The King of Tatooine murmured.

And as told, Din did, eyes trained on Boba’s face, his eyes focused on the man.

Slowly his trembling eased, though they didn’t fully disappear. Slowly, his eyes closed, dipping a bit forward as he gentled his grip on the other’s wrists. “…Vor entye.”

Only nodding, Boba let out a small sigh. “For now Din… don’t think about it. We can talk about it after you washed and slept… yeah?” He rumbled quietly, smiling slightly when he got a small nod. Carefully, the king helped Din to his feet. “I set a shower chair into the fresher, I’ll help you in, but will sit out here. That alright?” He got another nod.

Paz felt quite useless as he watched Boba slowly guide him into the fresher, Din stumbling slowly along while leaning on the other man. ‘…He needs rest, anything else can come after Din has rested.’ Paz decided firmly, knowing how exhausting bacta tanks could be.

Beroya = bounty hunter

Verd = soldier

Verd’ika = little soldier

Vor entye  = Thank you

Severedstomach, ph please tell me Din will be alright?

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Letting out a gasp as he woke up, Din flailed, his limbs heavy and smacking against something hard as he felt wet heat all around him and yet could breath at the same time. Muffled noises echoed around him as Din struggled to see, eyesight blurry and shaky as his toes hurt when they hit something hard.

Something blurry, green and black, moved in front of him and Din cried out, feeling frightened and claustrophobic as he couldn’t move anywhere.

Later, he’d feel ashamed of his behavior, later he’d realize he was in a bacta tube.

But in the moment, he just felt small and scared.

“Easy Din, calm down, breath verd’ika.” Boba’s steady, stern voice echoed in his ears, everything in Din focusing on the authoritative voice, being used to listening to the Armorer as he was.

Din whined with his emotions, shaking as he pressed his hands to the walls around him, a far part of his mind realizing he was in a tube. “B-Boba.” He gasped out, his breathing rushed.

“Yes, I’m here, can you see me?” The green and black blurry shape moved and Din nodded shakily. “Jate verd, you’re in the palace. We brought you home, you were injured, you’re currently in a bacta tube. Suvarir?” The voice kept being stern.

But that was good, it forced Din’s panicking mind to focus on it and it alone instead of how fearful he was and how trapped he felt. So he nodded, whimpering a tad still.

“Jate, ori’jate,” Boba’s voice was lower now, more coaxing. “You woke up earlier than expected, the droids were going to remove you from the bacta tube before you woke up. Just hold on another ten minute and they’ll get you out, alright verd?” He continued.

“K-Keep talking to me. I can’t… its not… I can’t in here.” Din gasped, hands reaching for his face, finding a mask over his mouth and nose, likely the oxygen but also more mask that lead over the rest of his face.

Boba had likely constructed this or had someone else make it, to ensure Din didn’t have his face exposed without his knowledge. His heart thudded a tad, relief and gratefulness echoing.

“Of course verd. I found a friend of yours while you were out.” Boba murmured, talking just as Din had asked.

“F-Friend?” A large, blue shape moved into view, other grey and black one moving around more smoothly than the other.

Someone walking. The grey and black ones must be the droids rolling around but the blue one…

Hope and fear had Din’s heart thudding against his ribs. ‘It… it can’t be… please… please be…’

“Hey there beroya, its good to see you awake,” Paz voice murmured, deep and steady through the vocoder and the comms giving Din their voices. “I got real worried when I got your signal.” He stated.

“P-Paz.” Din cried out, shaking in the bacta as he pressed his hands to the glass.

The blue shaped moved, dark brown gloves pressing over Din’s hands on the other side. “Yeah, I’m here. I’m good. Fett’s been a gracious host to me while you were in here.” Paz rumbled, grunting a tad as the black and green shape, as Boba, moved sharply.

‘Elbow into side.’ Din’s steadier mind supplied.

“He’s a kind of a shabuir, but he makes for a good sparring partner.” Boba grunted out, Din laughing shakily at that.

He could imagine the two trying to wrestle in the downstairs sparring arena, it was one of the cooler areas of the palace and was rather big. “H-He is,” Din agreed shakily, laughing more at the uttered ‘oi!’ from Paz. “He… used to… throw me around in the… the sparring ring… when we were small.” Din shakily got the words out.

“Oh he did,” Boba growled softly and Paz coughed. “You’ll have to join us down in the arena when you’re on two feet Din. Watch us.” Din could almost imagine the smirk on the King of Tatooine’s face.

“Emptying the bacta tube now.” A monotone voice echoed, Din jerking to with shock.

“Easy beroya, its just the medical droid,” Paz said quickly, his deep voice carrying a strain of worry. He was all too familiar with Din’s hate for droids, having been there when Din was rescued. “Its not goin to touch you, when the tube is empty and the harness is activated, I’ll carry you.” He promised.

‘Don’t like droids. Only IG-11. This isn’t IG. IG is dead. Don’t trust it.’ Din breathing was speeding up, even as the bacta around him was draining.

“Breath Din.” Boba demanded, voice once more stern and Din inhaled so sharply his throat hurt, eyes wide to keep an eye on things, to not miss anything as he finally saw both Paz and Boba, the bacta below his eyes, his body heavy as it hung in the harness, no longer just floating.

Boba was standing there without his helmet of course, clearly observing Din, his hands on a display that was likely the reason why Din could hear them. Paz was beside him with his hands still pressed to the tube. “G-Get me out, gedet’ye, gedet’ye Boba, gedet’ye Paz.” He begged as he got his feet in under himself on the floor of the tube, once more feeling claustrophobic and stuck, the sound of a droid so close when he was helpless making him shake.

Paz let out a snarl, so soft it almost didn’t get picked up by the vocoder. “Don’t beg, you don’t have to beg. You’ll be out, just a few more moments Din.” He promised.

Din let out another whine that turned into a relieved gasp as the tube unsealed, the front being pulled open by Paz.

Large, steady hands reached out, undoing the harness with swift movements, startlingly deft for the size of the owner and Din almost collapsed without the support.

Would have without Paz.

But Paz was there, pulled him out of the tube and into his arms, the armor cool against Din’s chest as he pressed his cheek to the cool, blue plate. Goosebumps broke on Din’s skin but he pressed closer, rubbing his cheek lightly against the beskar.

Safe, he didn’t even care that Paz had exposed his face.

Large arms came down around him, pulling him in closer. “Don’t look up. I won’t look down.” Paz murmured reassuringly, large hand pressed to the middle of his back.

“Kay…” Standing there, gooey and shaking, Din let out a soft noise as Boba’s hand came into view, a hooded robe in hand. Din knew that robe, it had a little inbuilt veil that could be fastened, showing only the top part of Din’s face, his eyes with the hood covering his eyes. Boba had it commissioned especially for Din’s comfort.

“Cover up verd’ika, lets get you to a shower to get all the bacta gunk of off you.” Boba rumbled, his steady voice familiar and just as safe as Paz.

‘Home…’ Covered in goo, standing on shaking legs with goosebumps on his body, Din couldn’t help but smile as he reached for his robe. “Ni’m yaim, Boba.”

Boba paused, letting out a small noise. “… Olarom yaim, Din.” He stated, voice low and full of warmth.

Jate = Good

Verd = Soldier

Verd’ika = Little soldier

Suvarir  = Understand

Ori’jate= Very good

Beroya = Bounty hunter

Shabuir = Jerk (stronger insult than jerk technically)

Gedet’ye = Please

Ni’m yaim = I’m home

Olarom yaim = Welcome home

the need for touch, are they settling into the palace now? how is din? is paz courting him?

Posted on av swmoddy

According to Fett, the former Hutt palace was a skughole but…

Honestly, as Paz got to enjoy a water shower on a timer, he had to say that ever since they had to flee Mandalore, he hadn’t been in a more luxurious place than he was that moment.

Maybe Din had, Din was their beroya, he traveled the galaxy but from what he had learned from Din, he often opted to stay in his ship, the destroyed Razor Crest he used to have.

This palace, now Fett Palace despite the alpha’s strained hold on it for now, had actual food to feed an army, could have fed the entire Covert for at least a week or two. It had water for days, fresh, clean water, enough to take literal water showers and on a planet like Tatooine, that was a luxury few could afford.

Paz had seen the water vapors behind the palace of course, he imagined that most of the water for the shower came from those. He had heard one of the working people Fett had hired in say that the water that collected in those vapors weren’t good for drinking.

Something about the positions of the vapors and a mist?

Chemicals in the ground?

But it was fine for showering and if you cooked it first, boiled it safe, you could still drink it and use it for food prep.

Fett however seemed content to use it for showering.

Fennec had told Paz that his and Din’s room were actually one of the few with the connection to the water line. It wasn’t for everyone and it made Paz once more grateful to the alpha for providing such a luxury.

Din… needed it.

Taking a shower in your helmet was never fun with a sonic, it tended to leave you rattled and Paz had managed to gently coax the other into the shower after a day when the funk of his kute started to layer.

Not something he was used to from the beroya, the covert as a people used to wearing armor all the time were hygienic by necessity, no one wanted to smell like a hutt on a warm day after all. But with the lack of his child, Din…

Well, he ate, he drank, sparred with either him, Fennec or Fett with a tad of coaxing and he moved on his own, Paz wasn’t going to ask for miracles.

Helping the other shower hadn’t been bad either.

They both kept on their helmet and shorts, both of them a tad awkward over the nudity despite Paz desire to court the other. But with the shorts on, it was easier, carefully washing Din’s back, arms, chest and legs.

The only strange time had been when Paz lingered on the others scent and bonding glands, Din turning still beneath his touch as Paz fingertips stroked slowly over the warm, slightly swollen areas.

Paz had wondered then, if he took of his helmet, would Din have too?

But the moment had passed and Paz had quietly pulled back, telling Din that he was stepping out so Din could wash his hair on his own.

Having removed his helmet for his child, well, as Paz said, the foundlings were the future. To remove it now…

Din would have to figure out his own balance, his own stride and path.

Just like Paz was doing.

The Covert, their covert, was no more, they had to start anew and coming out into the world, Paz had learned there were more options, more ways of being a mandalorian. Ways that seemed… not easier but maybe more fulfilling?

It would certainly make touch starvation easier to handle he mused to himself as he tipped his head up to rinse the soap out of his hair, hearing the beep of his timer. That meant there was five minutes left of water.

Best rinse everything, so he didn’t have to take a sonic too.

Mentally sighing, Paz worked swiftly, rinsing out all soap from skin and hair, rubbing at his curling hair.

Then he paused, the tight curls of his hair around his fingers, the image of Din sitting on the bed, Paz in front of him on the floor, letting Din braid his hair. The image made his mouth dry, staring thoughtlessly at the shower tiles as the water continued spraying down on him.

It was a… domestic thought and image and Paz could swear he could almost feel Din’s hands in his hair, the omega’s slender hands would be good for braiding, he’d seen the other do it for some of the younglings of the covert sometimes.

Gentle fingers, low humming of a battle song, Paz leaning back into the touch he could almost feel despite being in the shower, the scene so real in his head.

Paz let his eyes close, savoring the mental image even as his mind didn’t provide Din a face.

He knew enough to know that Din’s skin was a beautiful and natural tan from his hands and that he had rich brown hair that was at least long enough to curl around his ears, the hairs left om the hairbrush giving him that info.

The details of the other’s face was left vague, but his voice, the feel of gentle but skilled fingers, the touch of calluses from weapon training…

Beroya = Bounty Hunter

Does Paz know Din has removed his helmet in Need for touch?

Posted on av swmoddy

Din exists.

Its the easiest way to explain his current behavior, not that anyone expected better. Hell, Paz had honestly worried it be a lot worse, dam’s that lost their kits, willingly or not, would often enter depressive episodes.

The fact that Din slept, woke up, used the fresher and ate without too much prompting was something he would not take for granted, even as he often found himself holding the others hand or tucking the omega into his own bulk to provide whatever comfort he could give.

A lot of omegas lost interest in life at the loss of a child, their packs often becoming more caretakers than family during the time it took for the person to heal.

If they healed.

Paz didn’t allow his mind to linger on that thought, Din had always been strong and Paz couldn’t let himself believe that Din strength would fail him now. That he would fade away from life.

It hurt to think.

Which was why Paz focus was on Din and Din alone.

Slave 1 wasn’t a spacious ship with four people on, Fett of course having his own quarters and Shand what went for a ‘guest’ quarters. Thankfully, recognizing the need, Fett had also arranged for a room Paz suspected had once been a weapon room for the two mandalorians, giving them privacy.

Not that he seemed to like leaving Din alone with Paz in his current situation but it was clear by the way Din clung to the alpha that he needed Paz.

So he and Din shared bunk and sheets, the two wrapped up in each other.

Mostly, Paz slept with Din covered up under his bulk, his helm pressed to the others back or his chin touching the back of Din’s helmet. Sometimes however, Din opted to curl up on Paz chest, pressing his head to Paz collarbone.

The sensation of another person, not in armor, was a luxury and Paz wasn’t quite sure what to feel about getting it on a ship that did not belong to the covert.

But, seeing as Boba and Din were starting to smell of each other, of the foundation of a pack, he didn’t complain.

Especially not when Fett had given them a door that could lock.

Currently, they were on their way to Tatooine, something about settling old scores according to the scarred alpha, a feral look in his eyes as he mentioned someone called Jabba’s palace.

The planet and person’s name had roused Din slightly, his hand tightening on Paz as he quietly murmured that he had a few jobs there.

If asked, Paz would say he was grateful he had never meet this Jabba character from what Shand and Fett filled him in on.

But…

A palace, overthrowing the ones that had it, taking over a cartel…

Paz had to admit, it was a good idea, it would certainly be a distraction for Din. Because for all that he simply existed instead of lived, Din could still fight as their sparring in the cargo hold some days proved.

Work out a bit of rage, maybe some sadness and maybe Din would finally start talking again.

Din tried but…

Paz understood.

He really did, it was why he simply held onto Din’s hand during the day or wrapped his arm around the others waist and during the night, wrapped himself around Din’s body.

Like tonight, laying on the bed in one of those few days Din decided to curl up on Paz chest.

Absently stroking the others warm back, staring at the dark ceiling without a thought in his head, Paz almost jumped when Din suddenly spoke.

“I took my helmet off.” He whispered.

Paz pressed his hand to Din’s spine, his mind taking in the words before he directed his arms to wrap slowly around Din’s tense body, the large shirt the beroya was borrowing for sleep shifting under his touch. “Our way is not the Only Way.” He stated slowly, uncertainly. It had been one of the stranger things he had been required to accept when he got out of the covert, meeting other mandalorians and he was already aware that Din had removed his helmet.

Dune had informed him, both on a planet called Morak and on the moff’s ship and why Din had removed his helmet.

So far, none of the other mandalorians he had meet followed the same Way as their covert did and Paz wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, what it said about not only their alor but also their Armorer, for teaching the Way as they did.

If there were other interpretations, that meant there were other ways to live, easier ways.

Not that Paz was sure about them, the way he had been raised fighting against the new things he had seen.

Paz felt Din nod into his collarbone. “Meet some of them… Boba says he’s not mandalorian but… by birth he is…” He trailed off.

Sighing softly, hugging Din tightly, Paz rumbled softly. “If you expect me to judge you verd’ika, that is not my place. Not when I’m so lost myself.” He stated softly, feeling Din body go even tenser and then lax against his chest.

Nuzzling their heads together in a light mirshmure’cya, Paz thought it over as Din played with the lose opening of Paz shirt.

“If you want to know what I think about you removing your helmet however,” Din went ramrod stiff in his arms, even as Paz started rubbing his back slowly in their dark, makeshift room. “I would tell you that foundlings are the future, it is for them we sacrifice. So in my eyes… you are our beroya, more honorable than most can imagine, worth your weight in beskar.” He rumbled reverently as he continued slowly rubbing.

He felt Din hold his breath, saw him through the dim view of his helmet that the omega lifted his head so their visors meet.

For a long moment they simply stared at each other, Din waiting on Paz to tell him he was lying and Paz simply waiting on Din to accept what he had said.

Finally, Din let out a tired, but relieved little sob and flopped back down, pressing his body warm helmet to Paz shoulder.

Din had been crying more this last week than Paz imagined he ever had before, but this was a different sort of crying than the heartbroken one.

This was the cries of someone that had found balm for their heart, for something that had been weighing on their mind.

“Gar cuyir oyayc, Ni cuy’ olar. Ni’ cuy’ olar.” Paz rumbled, hoping that tomorrow would bring Din more succor for his soul and troubled mind.

Beroya = bounty hunter

Verd’ika = Little soldier

Mirshmure’cya = Keldable kiss or headbutt, can be affectionate or violent

Gar cuyir oyayc, Ni cuy’ olar = you are alive, I am here.

Severed stomach: Don’t let Din die! D8

Posted on av swmoddy

They almost shoot each other, standing there in the shadows of Din’s ship.

That is something neither Boba or Paz will tell Din though, but they almost end up shooting each other as both are paranoid bastards and they’re both concerned.

To be fair, they are both answering different emergency signals, both are unaware of each other and both think the other might be the enemy that caused Din’s current situation.

Thankfully, outside of a warning shot from Fennec at Paz feet, nothing too bad happened… except wasted time.

Time they might not have, especially not with how long it took for them all to get to the planet, the lack of response from inside the ship highly worrying.

“I got the codes to get it open,” Boba grumbled as he made his way past the big shabuir in blue, already typing into his vambrace, his eyes focused on the ship he loaned Din, knowing Fennec had his back. “Din never changed them when he took possession of the ship.” He stated, knowing from the monitor program installed that Din hadn’t.

Paz, his cannon reluctantly shelved for now, nodded slowly. “Sounds like the verd’ika. As long as it wasn’t his personal room, he never bothered to changing codes to anything.” He sighed a bit, shaking his head.

You’d think Din knew better, ensuring his own privacy to rooms only he should have access to.

The ramp thankfully lowered, Boba correct that the codes were the same.

Instantly, all three tensed as the ramp finally extended into the muddy ground.

It was covered in rusty colored blood, dried blood.

Din’s blood.

Hissing slightly, his vocoder crackling, Boba marched up the ramp as quickly as his feet could take him, Paz right behind him with Fennec remaining outside to keep guard just in case. She wasn’t a medical expert, she wouldn’t be much help anyhow.

Following the blood, both males made their way inside, moving through the ships towards the cockpit.

Sending a mental prayer, Boba slapped his hands over the door controller, listening to the hiss as it opened to admit the two.

Instantly, Boba’s eyes fell on Din, the other collapsed into the pilot chair and he felt his breath catch.

Behind him, Paz let out a curse, moving past a frozen Boba.

Din looked dead.

His shiny beskar was covered in dried, rusty blood, Din’s blood, shrapnel was sticking out of his side, his arms and his legs. Din was slumped in the chair, his body lose with what Boba hoped was unconsciousness and he couldn’t see the others chest rise and fall.

Boba couldn’t look away from him even as he knows he should move and check on the other, find the medical kit, do SOMETHING.

But he can’t, his attention is on Din and Din alone.

His eyes roam over the way Din is slumped in the chair like a discarded ragdoll, abandoned by a child done playing rough. Can’t look away from the sight of the shrapnel embedded into the others left side, the warped metal as wide as Din’s hand and as long as his arm and Boba can’t tell how much of the blackened metal is inside of the other, how much damage has been done to the other.

Finally however, he manages to force himself forward as Paz yanked his own glove off and pressed his fingers under the helmet to get his pulse, Boba made himself breath as he reached up into the overhead compartment to the left, knowing there should be a medical kit there.

There was, it was fully stocked even from the looks of, the seal unopened.

“He’s alive but barely breathing, his pulse is too slow,” Paz growled out, Boba coming over with the case. “I don’t… I don’t know if we can move him.” He tacked on, deep voice sounding uncertain.

But alive meant there was still a chance.

Opening the case with a small growl, Boba dug through the case. “We can’t remove the shrapnel, he will bleed out in moments,” He agreed, listening to the shifting of armor. “But we can move him if we do this.” He pulled out a bacta injector.

Both stared at it.

The risk of injecting bacta into Din when he had shrapnel inside of him was high, many people suffered permanent organ damage from bacta injections before with shrapnel smaller than what was inside Din.

But they had no other choice and Boba reached out, pushing Din’s head to the side to pull down the high neck of his shirt. ‘If this causes anything permanent, forgive me Din. But I’d rather have you alive.’ He thought grimly as he set it, ordering Paz to find them a stretcher.

Moving Din was taxing, both Boba and Paz hesitating with precious moments while staring at the largest piece of shrapnel and both flinched when they heard an exhalation from Din as he was moved.

It hurt obviously, but Din was too far gone to wake up even with the stimuli.

Thankfully, the hoverstretcher made things easier on them, moving Din to Slave 1 and into the medbay, where Fennec stood watch over their injured bounty hunter as Boba attached him to monitoring equipment with Paz hovering at his shoulder.  “…We’re going have to be quick, return to Tatooine as fast as we can. He’s going to become infected by the shrapnel soon enough and it will turn his flesh necrotic.” Boba murmured as he removed Din’s bloody gloves.

His stomach twisted a bit with how stiff with blood they were, how much of Din’s blood must truly be soaked into it.

“I’ll go fetch my stuff, I don’t know the other ship, so Din’s things…” Paz trailed off.

“I’ll do it, I know where everything is. Din didn’t personalize the ship much but I know where his quarters on it are,” Boba grunted before turning to Fennec. “Remove his armor in the meantime, chest, greaves, vambraces but leave the helmet as usually.” He stated sternly, half noting the tenseness of the other mandalorian easing.

Ugh, the Watch and their helmets, made medical care difficult.

Fennec, normally being one for a sarcastic quip, simply nodded, her face drawn tight as she stepped in to work the chest piece off first.

He turned to Paz. “Ten minutes, and I take off. Tayli’bac?” He stated sternly, receiving a quick nod. ‘Just hold on for us Din, just a little longer…’

Shabuir = Asshole

Verd’ika = Little soldier

Tayli’bac? = Got it? Okay? Understand? (Often very aggressive.)

Ouch, NeedForTouch has poor DIn going through the wringer! But I’m glad Paz showed up when he did – Din needs to be able to let it out, instead of just ghosting thru existence. Maybe now that Paz is in the picture, Din will be more willing (once he’s a bit less traumatized by the loss of his kit) to really approach Boba about becoming truly family, instead of just a «maybe packmate»? So it won’t be left it to chance whether or not Boba would ever treat him like family because he FEELS like it.

Posted on av swmoddy

Drawing his hand gently over Din’s chest, Paz pressed his palm to the warmth, listening quietly as he felt the steady beat of Din’s heart and his slow breathing.

Asleep.

Fully and deeply asleep, an exhausted sleep from his emotional overturn the night before.

Still, despite being reassured by how asleep Din was, Paz very slowly and very gingerly pulled away from the omega. He was terrified of waking the exhausted man, Din needed to sleep, even without seeing the others face, Paz had noticed the exhaustion in the slump of the others shoulders and body the day before.

Thankfully, Din barely reacted to Paz pulling away, only going as far as muttering softly and curling into the warm spot the alpha left behind, snuffling softly.

It made Paz heart ache a bit as he watched the other, wishing he could see the others face, stroke his hair, give him everything the other deserved.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Paz quietly moved to the fresher to do his business and then made his way out of the house. He wanted to find some decent breakfast for Din before he woke, something warm would be nice.

He knew that Din liked spicy things but he wasn’t sure that eating spicy things in the morning, especially after the breakdown Din had last night and the last couple of days of emotional turmoil would be so good.

Din needed something nourishing, filling but not too powerful in case his appetite had declined. ‘Eggs would be good, not sure I can get him to eat meat though, so no sausage… maybe an omelet and some warm bread rolls?’ Paz mused as he stepped out, not bothering putting on his armor or bringing his blaster canon for a quick food run, as naked as that made him feel.

He did bring his blaster and viroblade though as he stepped into the grey morning light of Nevarro, the temperature making his skin break out in goosebumps as it was fairly cold right before the sun rose fully.

Paz was fairly grateful that he took at least some weapons with him as the moment the door closed behind him, he heard the telltale click of a blaster safety being removed to his side, a blaster pressing into his side.

If someone was angling for a fight, Paz would give them it.

Paz tilted his head to look, pausing slightly when he looked at Boba Fett through his visor as the clone of Jango Fett stared back at him.

No, not just clone.

Son.

Paz, despite his buir grumbling about Jango Fett in his youth, knew enough to recognize that Boba Fett had been a son and not just a clone, fodder for the old Republic’s army.

Unaltered and pure, an alpha.

One that currently was holding a blaster to Paz side and if Paz wasn’t wrong, the sniper was on top of the roof, rifle likely angled down at him.

So, he kept still if tense, simply stared at Fett, recognizing that this was Din’s friend.

With both the sniper and the knowledge that this person was someone Din trusted, who was willing to protect him, Paz would give him the benefit of doubt, despite the blaster pressed into his side.

For a long minute, neither of them said anything in the grey light of Nevarro’s rising sun.

Then Fett spoke. “If you hurt him, I will feed you to the same sarlaac I once ended up in with your hamstrings slit, you will wish I killed you by the time its done with you. Do you understand me?” He growled faintly, his vocoder making the sound even more menacing than a normal alpha growl.

Paz cocked his head slightly, fighting the urge to growl back before nodding. “If I hurt him, I’d do the deed myself. He’s hurt enough.” He agreed quietly, holding his ground as Fett continued staring at him, could feel the other alpha’s narrowed eyes behind the green buy’ce as sweat started to bead on the back of Paz neck.

Finally, Fett grunted and tucked his blaster onto his belt, nodding slightly. “I wager he’s still asleep?” The man questioned.

Paz nodded. “There’s only water and some bland rations in the house, I wanted to find something better for him to eat. And return before he wakes up alone, he’s rather deeply asleep but I still want to hurry.” The statement was meet with an approving grunt before Fett nodded his head and started walking.

Taking the hint, Paz followed the other, noting the dark shape jumping down from the roofs and wandering of.

He had been right, the sniper had been on the roof as he suspected.

Fett lead him to his ship in the docking bay, up the ramp and into the cargo hold, the man digging around in a crate as Paz looked around, throwing a sealed pouch at him, Paz automatically catching it and tilting it to read. “…Cassius tea?” He rumbled quietly.

“Din deserves comfort food, cassius tea is also good for health,” Fett stated absently before moving to another crate. Honestly, Paz was more shocked that the bounty hunter had proper mandalorian tea if he was honest, even as he caught the next bag Fett threw at him. “Mealgrains with dried varos fruit. Its going to be enough to get him going at least, especially if you’re considering getting some eggs?” Paz could hear the silent question in those words and nodded quietly.

His nod was meet with another approving grunt. “Do you know where I could source some egg? Or any food?” He questioned.

He had been thinking of asking Karga, he seemed fond of Din and important in town. If Paz remembered right, the man had run or still ran the bounty hunter guild. “Dune, she’s the marshal in town and she was part of the rescue team, I imagine she’d be happy to help for the verd’ika’s sake.” Fett rumbled.

Pausing slightly, Paz furrowed his brows. “…Dune…” He questioned slowly, he had to admit, he had been more focused on Din. “That’s the one with the muscled arms, right?” Paz was sure that was the name of the woman he had spoken with last night.

Thankfully, Fett nodded, Paz letting out a relieved noise that he remembered right.

‘Just stay asleep a little bit longer Din, there be some decent grubb for you when you wake up.’ Paz promised mentally, turning and heading down the ramp to find the marshal office, hoping Dune was already awake.

Buy’ce = Helmet

Verd’ika = Little soldier

Yay, a new story! SeveredStomach had me on the edge of my seat!! So GOOD! So, what I want to know is this: How much of a close call will it be? I mean, I know you: Din lives, obviously. But! *stares eagerly in anticipation* Will it be obvious when he’s found that he’s alive? Or will there be an angsty moment from his rescuer(s) like, ‘oh no I was too late he is dead’, before Din proves to still be hanging on? (Either way, I will of course still be super stoked to see this continue! Can’t wait!)

Posted on av swmoddy

Tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, Boba ignored Fennec’s sharp look from the side as he continued making noise. He had an excess of energy and needed some way to work it out and since they didn’t have a person Boba could bash into the floor, well, this would have to do.

Outside of the viewscreen, hyperspace flitted by in a shower of bright light and blue and nothing Boba could do would would make things go faster.

Din’s emergency signal had gone of, sent of by the man himself instead of the time limit Boba had installed. Had the cockpit been unused for a week, it would have sent of a message to Boba’s gauntlet but no, Din himself had sent of this one.

It meant that Din, reckless, stupid Din, had looked at himself and realized that he was in severe problems and needed aid and no amount of hailing on the comms had Din responding.

Boba wasn’t sure what that meant.

He could make some guesses of course but wasn’t sure which one would be the right one and human imagination could be so much worse than the truth. So he tried not to imagine what kind of situation Din had landed himself in even as he had stocked the medbay of Slave 1 to the brim with supplies.

The King of Tatooine trusted few, his position was still precarious and leaving wasn’t in his best interest but… Din…

Din, who had such difficulty in asking for aid for himself, Din, who Boba could trust with his own life and business, Din, who could not be trusted with his own life.

Din had asked for help for once and Boba would answer it and where he went, Fennec followed these days.

Plus, regardless how much she might feign disinterest, he knew she was fond of their silver covered mandalorian.

Which was why they were both flying through space to Atanan-V to find their lost bounty hunter.

Hopefully, they weren’t too late.

()()()

Landing the piece of scrap he had ‘borrowed’ from a scrapyard onto the muddy ground, Paz eyed the other ship with trepidation even as he knew there weren’t any living signs around, Paz having scanned the surroundings before he dared to land.

It wasn’t the Razor Crest and he wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Honestly, Paz wasn’t sure what to make of the emergency signal either, still faintly beeping on his gauntlet. Din Djarin was a stubborn son of a bitch and there had only been two instances before the covert was exposed on Nevarro that the di’kut had used it in all his bounty hunter years.

Both times Din had been on the verge of death and had they been any later, Din would not be here today.

If he was alive.

Paz wasn’t sure what he was going to find inside the other ship, if it even was Din.

But it couldn’t be anyone else, only Din, their beroya, had this particular emergency signal.

It couldn’t be sourced from a terminal, the inbuilt code meant it auto destroyed itself after a week, it had to input every week for it to be usable.

A security, to keep the covert safe, to ensure their beroya couldn’t be used for them if caught.

It could only be input by a person that knew it.

Din.

Just Din.

Their beroya, their breadwinner.

Disengaging the ramp of the barely flying scrap metal he had dared to fly, Paz hefted his canon onto his back and made his way out, knowing he needed to investigate, to make sure but not being stupid about it as he scanned the surrounding area with his helmet.

Good thing he did too, picking up the signals that the ship was currently active with defenses.

Paz paused uncertainly, staring at the ship. He wasn’t a slicer, had never had the patience or mind to learn that particular skill and seeing as how he should be visible from the cockpit, it meant that whoever was in there hadn’t disengaged it.

Or couldn’t.

Paz mind flashed to the last time Din had used the emergency signal, to the blood covered cuirass of the beroya as he was transported to the ship that had come to his rescue. ‘I don’t have that much bacta.’ Paz swallowed thickly, shifting on his feet, the mud squelching under his boots, dusky rain falling down around him.

When the signal had arrived, Paz hadn’t thought.

Just acted, as he often did if he was honest.

It could be counted as both a flaw and a pro honestly, a pro when in battle, acting quickly often saved his life. But other times, it landed him in situations like this, standing without proper gear and no backup.

The potential of a survivor from the covert had been too alluring, the idea of finding Din again slamming Paz with a need he thought he’d overcome by aiding Din with the foundling.

Standing outside the ship though, Paz wished he had thought to bring someone with him, to fill his ship with better supplies.

Because either Din was not in that ship or he was too injured to move and disengage the protections set in place.

Neither prospect was good.

Grumbling, Paz only got another minute of peace to stare at the ship before the sound of another ship in atmosphere had him tensing, his head snapping up and around to find a spot of growing darkness on the grey sky.

Another ship was approaching.

Enemies?

Or did whoever, be it Din or someone else, send for more aid than the beroya signal. Honestly, Paz hoped it was the latter.

Din would have been alone for a long time and the idea of him having backup was slightly soothing… but Paz wouldn’t know until whoever was arriving landed and since he couldn’t do anything else…

Paz settled to wait, his canon pulled of his shoulder and into his hands just in case as he moved closer to the ship without touching it.

If they were friendlies, they wouldn’t dare shoot on the ship at the very least. ‘Let us hope its allies, eh verd’ika?’ Paz mused as the ship came fully into view, an old Firespray from the looks of it.

Di’kut = Idiot

Beroya = Bounty hunter

Verd’ika = Little soldier