Archive of Our Own ^beta

After, rather satisfyingly, striking down a B2 Battle Droid, uncovering a potentially suspicious substance, Din Djarin had just noticed how the sky seemed to darken. It appeared as though Plazir-15’s sunsets came prematurely, compared to other planets. That, or they had been handling the task at hand for too long. Either way, Din Djarin was glad he never felt an abundant passage of time, for he could not stand this planet any longer, nor was he fond of it upon arrival. Seemingly blissful lands like this one were never atop his list of places to visit, and the ridiculously luxurious front Plazir-15 presented was rather irksome, but that wasn’t what bothered him, at least not entirely. That would be the sight of Battle Droid upon Battle Droid across the planet.

He had grown to accept droids’ place in society, but there was an admittedly thin line in his mind that had been crossed boundlessly today. Seeing a droid aiding someone was one thing, even if said droid was one with a more troublesome background like IG-11, fittingly, the first droid he ever trusted. But seeing such a disproportionate number of droids among the inhabitants of Plazir-15, and old CIS Battle Droids no less, brought out unpleasant emotions in him, ones he couldn’t quite place.

He felt the need to remark about the unreliability of droids to his companion, that was pettiness, he thought as the vehicle that carried them both advanced through a brief shade. He had also insisted on displeasing the worker B2 Battle Droids earlier, perhaps that was also the rather childish emotion. But he had to recognize it was weariness and said action had brought him to his next clue anyway, so it was fruitful.

Plazir-15’s lights shined atop them briefly, before they approached the massive shade of a building. What he felt in the Resistor was undoubtedly anger, and looking back on it, though his actions were once again, partially fruitful, he couldn’t help but recognize that Bo was right. He was being unreasonable. He was always violent, but not impulsively so. At least not completely. But it felt so right to threaten the droid. It felt so great to strike one in the chest earlier. It felt virtuous to be put in this position, where droids were once again the danger. And he wasn’t at all helpless against them. Their silent ride concluded, and stumbled upon complete darkness as they reached their next stop, where they would hopefully find the source of the allusive Nepenthé.

And they did. The responsible was now in his grasp. He couldn’t bother to care if they passed under shadows if the sun had already set. He only cared to check his weapons, slightly adjust his armor, study the Bo’s face, and repeat the process until they reached Helgait. He missed his unawareness for time from just a few hours ago, for the wait was becoming unbearable. He had to put an end to this, the stupid droids, they had to be stopped, they were dangerous, he knew, he knew all to well. Seeing children in the streets was enough incentive. Then again, so was the mere mention of Battle Droids. His worries (yes that is where the anger, the pettiness came from, from being alert and responsible with this new undertaking) would soon be stopped. He could return to his quest knowing he stopped such a dangerous threat. He could finally let out the breath he was holding for these ungodly hours.

But once it had been done, as he navigated the halls of Plazir-15 to exit the building, walking under the shade of a ceiling this time, knowing that Helgait was now in exile, he still felt that anger. That pettiness. That worry. That… helplessness. He felt helpless once again. He hated it. They were still out there. Maybe not these droids (though he could hardly believe that), but some others are wreaking havoc in the galaxy as he walks. A child is left without his parents this very moment. The fools! Can’t they see the danger?

It seems only that scum named Helgait did, the foolish Separatist who could think outside his upbring for only a second, a part of the problem all along. But that did not matter now. He was doing good for his creed. Yes, the Mandalorian creed, he gave it his all after all. His people will soon come together and follow the way, he wished as the ceiling became thicker and thicker. Then he could take care of any similar dangers, alongside a union of brothers. It will all be better.

As they continued their way, the thought suddenly came onto Din: He never really needed a droid, did he? The mines were never toxic. They were not haunted. Maybe Grogu needed his aid to reach Bo, but his kid was more than capable on his own. Like he wished he was as a child, faced by the horrendous B2 Battle Droid that changed his life forever. He never needed droids. Nobody did. They were fools like the mandalorians he was about to meet. He had come out on top, he was the living proof, that the galaxy was better off without droids. That The Way was better. That he had done good today. IG was only an exception, yes, all droids are evil. They only bring pain. The Way brings resilience. Droids bring pain, and so do the remnant Separatists. Yes, the Way saved him from the devilish droids. He can still feel the arms of the Death Watch Mandalorian who carried him. It was a shield from whatever debris came from the beautiful sight of his tormentors being dismantled. The same ones who killed his parents. The untrusty droids. Today was enough evidence! We felt like a fool for even seeking to restore IG a few days ago. Even his replacement droid had let him down, his previous refuge had been found because of it. And that led to your friend being saved- it did not matter. That was another exception. Mere exceptions. Droids were dangerous, he was lucky to have the Way to save him. Because others don’t, and they’re left to their own facing droids. That stupid danger. Droids. The insolent… tools. He hated droids.

A shining metal took him out of his trance. One of Plazir’s-15 many servant droids. But he didn’t notice that, he simply and anxiously walloped it down.

“What are you doing?” Bo-Katan asked, aghast. “That droid was only walking.”

“They are all dangerous.” Din coldly responded. He was breathing heavily.

Bo took notice of this. “Din.” She firmly said as she stopped him.

“Din, look at me. This doesn’t have to do with the Nepenthé does it?” He merely stared at her and continued walking.

And Bo completely understood. That was the same behavior she displayed towards Boba Fett, wasn’t it? It was the same behavior she displayed just now, with Helgait.

She walked past a nastily scratched tile of metal in the floor to stop him once again.

“Din, it’s ok to be alert, but with some form of precedent, you can’t just obliterate every droid you see. And they aren’t all dangerous, you’ve been helped by them multiple times before. And so have I. So has everyone.”

The words didn’t seem to completely reach the helmeted Mandalorian.

“Yes, everyone has. And look what it caused.” He responded after a moment.

Bo sighed. “Maybe. But I’ve heard your friend Fett has been of great help to you, hasn’t him? And you know how I feel about clones.”

Din stared at her, and she continued walking.

“I’m sorry” he replied.

“It’s ok, I understand.” She said as she opened the door of the vehicle for him. It was already morning by now, and they were both met with the partially blocked sun of Plazir-15.