Prologue: "The Young Protect the Old"
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…
A few months earlier
“The young protect the old. This is The Way.”
Mando turned on his boot, disappearing into the forest’s ferns, his long cape catching on a few branches.
Cooing, Grogu lifted his little green hand with three fingers and reached for him, trying to pull him back. He was able to use the Force to keep Mando warm in a hut for a few days while he recovered from his injury, so why couldn’t he take control of him now?
One try. Two tries. Three tries.
Nope.
Grogu dropped his hand and lowered his head, his long ears flopping below his shoulders.
“What’s wrong, Grogu?” Mando turned back and pressed his gloved hands against the sides of his helmet, in case Grogu wanted to see him in the flesh—but Grogu shook his head and hobbled to him.
He wrapped his arms around Mando’s ankle and peered into his face with his big black eyes.
Now was not a good time to be cute—the Hutts still had Rotta—but still…
Mando bent his knees and picked up Grogu, cradling him in his powerful arms, his Beskar armor hot under Nal Hutta’s sun. He pushed through the ferns, soon stumbling upon a bog-like babbling brook, and set Grogu down.
Instantly, The Child clung to Mando’s ankle again, and he sighed, soon followed by a grunt when he awkwardly stepped on a small log. “You’re going to be the death of me, kid.” He drew his blaster when a crack sounded in the woods, but soon realized it was only him cracking sticks and almost dropping Grogu. “Yep,” Mando added, touching Grogu’s nose, “the death of me.”
When did he decide he was ready to be a parent again, especially given his profession?
Mando may never know.
***
Luke Skywalker removed his cape and draped it over a large tree branch. He sat on a rock and examined the Jedi Temple work in progress before him. Ossus was a good place for him to begin training the next generation of Jedi, with its mountainous terrain, overgrown forests, fields, and the occasional meadow or two. It was warm during the day and cool at night—perfect for the younglings to learn how to focus, like what he tried with Grogu.
Luke often wondered how Grogu was doing, but knew he loved Mando and wanted to return to him.
Luke stood, but flinched when a rush of dark energy pulsed through his thirty-one-year-old body. He stumbled, fell back, and landed on his backside in a mud puddle, his robotic hand covered in warm, brown gook. Was that Grogu he felt? Why was there so much fear? What had happened to him and Mando?
No, Luke. Luke tilted his chin and stood again. You have a job and can’t have any distractions.
Despite the thought, Luke couldn’t help but feel like he would see Mando and Grogu again after all.
The only question was “When?” and whether it would be too late when he did.
