Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan sighed as the volume from Han’s room suddenly spiked, the chorus of Una Duey Dee clear enough to Obi-Wan in the kitchen (even though Han’s room was upstairs and two rooms over) that he could easily hum along.  And he would have, and had in the past (Kra Mer 5 being Han’s favorite band this month meant that Obi-Wan had heard the song played probably a hundred times by now). But he was distracted by the sound of voices coming from the front door.

“Han, turn that down!” Aven called.

“Doubt he can hear you over that,” Rex said, as the two made their way into the kitchen.

“Welcome back,” Obi-Wan said, smiling at his sons. 

Aven held out the bag from the shop a few blocks down. “One order of gi sauce, as requested,” he said.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, taking the bag and pulling out the bottle. “It’s not quite the same as Padme’s recipe, but gi sauce probably tastes similar to doo sauce, right?”

Rex nodded encouragingly.

The volume from upstairs rose even higher, and all three in the kitchen winced.

“Alright, let me go talk to the dj,” Aven said, exasperated, and he left the kitchen. They almost immediately heard him greet someone at the door, before his footsteps headed up the stairs.

“Hey, we’re here!” Cody said, followed closely by Din.

“Din!” Obi-Wan said, smiling broadly. His grandson (grandson!) rushed over and hugged him, as Obi-Wan set down the gi sauce before returning the embrace. 

“No welcome for me?” Cody teased. 

“Stars above, it’s my long-lost brother Cody!” Rex exclaimed dramatically. He turned to Din and Obi-Wan, and with great exaggeration, said “he’s the Mand’alor, you know.” He then stepped over and wrapped Cody up in a huge bear-hug, even lifting him off his feet by an inch or two.  “I never thought I’d see you again,” he continued, voice muffled since his face was pressed into Cody’s shoulder.

“Alright, alright - Rex put me down!” Cody exclaimed. “Di’kut,” he muttered once he’d been set free.  The music from Han's room cut off.

“I’m gonna go say hi to Han!” Din said, and dashed out of the room, then pounding up the stairs.

“Where’s Jaster?” Obi-Wan asked Cody. “I thought you were coming over together.” 

“We did,” Cody said. “We pulled up at the same time Seventeen and Jinn did, he’s talking to them outside.”

“Can’t believe we need Jinn to force Seventeen to come to family dinners,” Rex said, rolling his eyes.

“I for one am just grateful,” Obi-Wan said, opening up the gi sauce bottle and giving it a sniff, and grimacing a bit. Yep, smelled like fermented fish sauce all right. Deciding to trust the process, he measured out a few spoonfuls to add to the sticky sauce to go with the kaadu ribs. They heard the front door open again.

“Ka’ra that smells good,” Three-Five said, walking into the room.

“What happened to Ba’buir?” Cody asked him.

Three-Five shrugged. “He’s out front talking to Jinn.” 

“Did Seventeen already make a run for it?” Rex asked. 

Three-Five snorted. “He might have tried, but when I got here he was wrestling with Maze and Nate.”

Cody rolled his eyes. “I’ll go break them up,” he said, and left the kitchen.

“The least they could do is wait until after dinner,” Obi-Wan muttered.

The timer he’d set on his datapad dinged, signaling that it was time to pull the ribs out of the oven.

“Rex, dear, can you go find Jango and Boba? They’re out walking by the field.” Obi-Wan had put Boba in charge of making sure Jango got his steps in today. The older Mandalorian had been crabby all day - as he often was on physical therapy days - and Obi-Wan thought Boba’s company would help him get through his evening walk without working himself up into a terrible mood just in time for family dinner.

While the farmhouse was still home to Jango, Obi-Wan, Rex, Aven, Han, and Three-Five, it was much quieter than it had been in its heyday. Cody and Din had moved to Jaster’s compound when Cody became Mand’alor, deciding that it made more sense to live closer to the center of Keldabe for convenience. Nate had gotten his own apartment near the spaceport a couple years ago.  Boba still lived here, but he was out on jobs so often that they only saw him for a few days a month. They’d gotten used to Seventeen being based in Coruscant, so while they’d seen him much more in the last few months than they had in the several years before that, he was still off on missions with Qui-Gon more often than not. And now that Maze was moving out, Obi-Wan felt more strongly than ever the urge to make the most of their monthly family dinners.

The tradition had started a few years ago, after the Hutt War. With everyone’s new responsibilities, they never quite went back to the way the family had functioned before the war. But after years of only seeing one or two of each other at a time while they were on short leaves, they’d all come to really value any time when the full family was together. So, even though the kids were growing up and getting jobs, and Jango was busy as Mand’alor, and Obi-Wan was busy with everything else, they’d carved out a rule - first Primeday of the month, everyone gathered for a family dinner. No exceptions unless you were off planet.

And now, nearly three years later, they were still doing it. Din and Han had been folded into the family pretty seamlessly. Cody was Mand’alor now, instead of Jango, but the tradition held. First Primeday of the month, no exceptions unless you were off planet.

“Hey, that smells great!” Maze said, stepping into the kitchen. “Can I help?” Obi-Wan smiled, and handed him the bowl of sticky sauce to pour over the ribs.

“Anyway, I think the beings of Tomo-Reth will be able to get things back on track now that the dictator’s been removed,” Qui-Gon Jinn said, passing the bowl of blue cabbage down to Three-Five, “but I am sorry it took longer than I’d anticipated. I know Seventeen wanted to be here for the Post-Kamino Ade celebration.”  Seventeen rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything, taking another bite of ribs. For all that the Jedi didn't have families of their own (Jinn's insistence that the entire order was one big family aside), the Jedi master was determined to see Seventeen maintain close ties to his own family. He'd been that way for years, but now that they were temporarily based on Manda'yaim it was far more obvious than when they'd been based on Coruscant. Seventeen was convinced that Jinn just thought it was funny.

Last week had marked ten years since the clones were brought to Manda’yaim from Kamino. The planet had erupted in festivals and celebrations to mark the occasion. (Un)luckily for Seventeen, they'd been on yet another diplomatic-turned-violent-who-could-have-predicted-that mission on Tomo-Reth, and missed it.

“It was so cool!” Han said. There was a solid two or three inches of sticky sauce smeared around his mouth. “They had a parade, and games, and a ton of food.”

“Anh uhn ah bir ooka’ike conpes” Din said around a massive mouthful of rib meat.

“I’m sorry, a what?” Jinn asked, lost.

Din heroically swallowed, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. Further down the table, Obi-Wan twitched.

“A ba’buir look-a-like contest,” he repeated.

“Everyone dressed up as their grandparents?” The Jedi asked, still confused.

“No,” Jango said, sighing. “They all dressed up as me.”

“It was a Jango Fett look-a-like contest,” Aven explained, smirking.

“Oh, but you’re all…” Jinn looked around the table, filled mostly with clones of Jango Fett. “…ah.”

“Yep,” Jango said, very drily.

“Oh, this one’s very nice!” Fox said into the mic. He checked his datapad. “This is Zak from Clan Carid, wearing classic Kamino-era Jango Fett armor. Does it have -“ He paused, while Zak made a slow spin up on the stage. “- yes, folks, he even made sure to fit in the correct Z-6 jetpack, instead of the more recent JT-12 jetpack he’s used since the Vheh’goten, well done.” Zak finished his loop of the stage, then moved off to join the other contestants. “That’s going to be a hard one to beat, folks.”

"This is ridiculous," Jango muttered under his breath.

"Don't be a spoil-sport," Obi-Wan disagreed, applauding along with the rest of the crowd. Jango sighed, and leaned slightly into his riduur. Luckily looking too enthusiastic would have been out of character, so all he really needed to do was sit there and try to appear dignified. 

"I still think you should have entered the competition yourself," Jaster said from his other side. 

"Buir, why. Just... why. Why would I enter my own look-a-like contest?" Jango demanded.

"That would have been so cool, ba'buir!" Din exclaimed from the row in front of them. "Imagine if you had won!" Han tried (and failed) to hide his snickering in his hand.

“Who’s next…" Fox was saying from up on stage. "Ah! Here we have Remo, he flew in with Clan Sornell for the celebration. He’s chosen to dress up as current-day Jango Fett.” Fox leaned forward a bit, bringing the mic closer to his mouth. “Note the hint of grey he’s painted into his hair around the temples.” His eyes found Jango’s at the back of the crowd. Maintaining eye contact, he continued, “because he’s starting to go grey a bit, haven’t you all noticed?”

Jango growled, as Aven joined Han's snickering.

“It was awesome,” Nate agreed, taking a drink to rinse down his ribs. 

“Yeah, karking hilarious,” Jango grumbled.

"I'm actually almost sorry I missed that," Seventeen had to admit.

“It wasn't as awesome as the parade, though,” Three-Five insisted.

“This seems like a bad idea,” Boba said, looking up at Din doubtfully. The Explorcorps float was just leaving, their humming fleet of miniature drone-ships still hovering in formations that changed to the beat of the music playing from the main float.

“It’s fine, he’s really light!” Din insisted, arms up to hold Grogu securely on his shoulders. The little green jetii'ka had found them in the crowd. Somehow. Nobody was sure how he kept doing that, but if Din was out and about in Keldabe, there was a decent chance Grogu was also there. Cody had finally just put his creche master on speed-dial so he could report Grogu's location.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Boba admitted. He turned to Cody. “This seems like a bad idea.”

“Why? This is the only way he’s tall enough to see the parade,” Cody said, arms up to hold Din securely on his shoulders.

Boba just looked up the tower standing next to him - Cody holding Din, holding Grogu, then scanned them back down.  He looked back at the parade, where the Agricorps float was coming by, throwing flowers out to the crowd. “Just seems like a bad idea,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.

“Worry-wort,” Cody said to Boba. 

“You do not get to call me a worry-wort,” Boba snarked back. “You were stacking baby Jedi two Mando’ade up, it was crazy.”

“We didn’t fall, though,” Din pointed out.

“It was probably the kid holding you up with his Force osik,” Boba grumbled, poking at the blue cabbage slaw on his plate. 

“Was that before or after Bacara broke your nose?” Maze asked Cody, who glared in response. Seventeen raised an eyebrow. He and Jinn had ended up on a joint mission with Bacara and a few other Protectors last year, and the serious clone had grown into all the promise he'd shown on Kamino.

“Before,” Boba answered.

“Cody - Mand’alor.”  The call caught Cody and Boba’s attention, and they both turned around. Up on Cody’s shoulders, Din exclaimed a bit, tightening his grip on Din to keep them both balanced.

“Bacara,” Cody greeted. He hadn’t seen Bacara in a few years, but he hadn’t changed his armor much, so it was easy to recognize him.

“I’m here to challenge you, Mand’alor,” the clone said, no-nonsense.

“He’s already fought a half dozen times today,” Boba complained. “Can you at least wait until after the parade?”

"You just don't want them to fight because you chose a half dozen fights in the betting pool for today," Din pointed out.  He was right, but Boba wasn't going to admit to anything.

Cody just tapped Din in warning, before carefully crouching down so his son could slide off his shoulders. “It’s fine,” he said, stretching his neck out as he stood up. “Where do you want to-“

Eyes closed, straightening his neck out of the stretch, Boba’s shout wasn’t enough warning to save him from the punch to the face.

“Is that allowed?” Jinn asked, a bit surprised. 

“It might not be the polite thing,” Jaster admitted. He handed his empty plate to Aven, whose turn it was to do dishes this month. “But to challenge the Mand’alor is to prove that you are worthy of the title instead. To take advantage of any weakness - barring truly dishonorable acts, of course - is fair.”

Jinn, Maze, and Jango were soon deep in conversation about the intricacies of Mandalorian rules of fair combat. Seventeen turned to Cody. “How many challenges did you face that day, altogether?” he asked.

“Rounded it off at an even dozen by the end of the day,” Cody said, shrugging.

From across the table, Obi-Wan frowned, concerned. “It’s not really getting better, is it?” 

Jango had faced challenges during his two years as Mand’alor, sure. Mostly members of clans who had been somewhat reluctant to bow to Jaster decades prior, or those who still thought of Jango as dar’manda for his actions on Kamino. But what Cody was facing was quite different. Cody was a clone. Nearly any time he went out in public, he faced challenges from fellow clones, who saw one of their own become Mand’alor, and felt emboldened by their own potential. 

“It’s only been a few months,” Cody said. “It’ll be fine.”

"Did you face a lot of challenges when you were Mand'alor?" Han asked Jaster.

"Not like this," Jaster admitted. "Of course, things were very different back then. For many years, I was hardly ever in Keldabe."

"Where did you live?" Din asked.

"The Haat Mando'ade moved around a great deal. Those were the years of the Clan Wars. Since I was usually living in war camps with my own verde, I didn't face one-on-one challenges like Cody. Instead, I had to win whole battles to earn my title."

Cody rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Jaster grinned, warming up to his topic. "You see, that's what kids these days don't understand-"

Everyone around the table groaned, and pushed back their chairs, eager to escape the dining table and Jaster's stories.

“So, how are your lessons going?” Jaster asked Han and Din, who both groaned. Jaster grabbed both their arms before they could escape, sitting them down on the couch with him. “Come on, come on, tell me about what you’ve been learning.”

They’d all left Aven to the dishes (except Three-Five, who’d stuck around to help dry) and migrated out to the living room. Almost immediately, Jango, Seventeen, and Boba had moved on outside, talking about something with Boba’s speeder bike. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon followed them out, though they were headed for the orchard. Everyone else spread out among the various chairs and couches scattered across the room.

“You’re sure you’ll be able to make the delivery to Teth next before the opening?” Cody was asked Nate. Nate had bought himself a ship years ago - originally so he’d have the freedom to travel and visit Sheeka whenever he wanted, but once he had the ship he started using it to find work as well. These days, he regularly did delivery runs on Federation business. Anyone who thought Cody was hiring Nate for deliveries because he must be getting a family discount had obviously never been subject to Jango Fett's lecture on proper contract negotiation. But he was reliable.

"You already finished the module! But didn't you just start it a week or two ago, that's wonderful!" Jaster exclaimed from the couch.

Maze leaned forward to join Cody and Nate's conversation, smirking. “Oh, he’ll be fine,” he said. “Word around the spaceport is that Nate Fett can get anything delivered anywhere.” Nate glared at Maze, whose smirk widened into a grin that was more baring his teeth than anything. “Might want to be careful that your reputation doesn’t spread too far. Vod of the Mand’alor or not, the Federation might not want to employ a known smuggler forever.”  Nate rolled his eyes and grabbed Han’s datapad that he’d set to the side, and threw it at Maze.

Maze caught it, laughing, but Aven shouted indignantly from the kitchen doorway. "Hey! His coursework's on there!"

“Hey, where’s O’buir?” Three-Five asked, following Aven.

“In the orchard with Jinn,” Jaster said. “Why?”

“We need to talk about next year’s Vheh’goten anniversary,” Three-Five said, catching Cody's eyes.

"What about it?" Nate asked, confused.

"We want to do another big festival, like we did for the PKA anniversary," Cody explained. 

"But you know how O'buir is, he'll fight us every step of the way if he thinks we're celebrating him," Three-Five added.

"So don't make it about him?" Din suggested.

"No, hide it from him!" Han guessed.

"Right you are, little man," Three-Five said, pointing at Han.

"I put Three-Five in charge of preparations," Cody explained. "Put he's going to need help."

"Not it," Aven said quickly. When he caught the several judgmental looks thrown his way, he held his hands up. "Hey, I've already got a commitment, Han's verd'goten is coming up soon. I don't want any more distractions."

Aw kriff. Cody felt his stomach drop a bit in anxiety. He hadn't had any time to work with Din in over a week. And his birthday was next month. Cody had absolutely no doubt that his son would pass his verd'goten, but still. Unlike Aven, Cody hadn't had the option to avoid other distractions -  other responsibilities.

Thankfully, while Cody was worrying, Maze and Jaster had both volunteered to join Three-Five's planning team. The conversation drifted on, while Cody quietly scheduled a reminder for tomorrow to set aside some time for Din's training this week.

Obi-Wan walked out of the small orchard and back to the driveway in front of the house. Qui-Gon had asked if he could spend a few moments meditating with the trees - they were in full bloom, and were nearly singing in the Force. Obi-Wan understood. He meditated there almost every day during this season.

Whatever conversation Jango, Boba, and Seventeen had been having about Boba's speeder bike had apparently evolved into a demonstration. Jango was on the bike, a few yards down the lane, with Boba jogging up to him. "You heard it?" Obi-Wan could hear him call to his buir.

Seventeen was still standing in the driveway, watching them, so Obi-Wan walked up to join him.

"Will the bike survive?" Obi-Wan asked, smiling.

Seventeen snorted. "The bike's fine. Boba loosened a connector this morning so that Prime could 'fix' it for him tonight."

Obi-Wan blinked. "What?" 

Seventeen shrugged. "It cheers him up to be useful, right? We all noticed."

Obi-Wan shifted, uncomfortable. The last few months had been hard. Obi-Wan wasn't an idiot, he could tell his riduur was struggling. But he knew things would continue to get better as Jango's physical recovery continued. "He's doing fine," he insisted. "PT days are just hard."

Seventeen didn't say anything, and Obi-Wan looked over to find the clone staring at him, face deadpan. "He's doing... fine," Seventeen repeated. When Obi-Wan didn't say anything, Seventeen sighed. "None of us were made for retirement, you know."

"He's not retiring, not if he doesn't want to," Obi-Wan insisted. "It's a hip injury, not a death sentence."

"But he can't do what he was doing before," Seventeen stated, cold and blunt as always.

"I have all the faith in the galaxy that Jango will find something new to become the best at," Obi-Wan said, with somewhat-forced cheer. 

Seventeen hummed.

Down the lane, Jango slowly stood back up from where he'd been crouching by the bike. When Boba turned it on again, they both cheered and some imperceptible change in the sound of the engine.

“So, I went to talk to Windu yesterday,” Cody said, and hour or so later. He, Rex, and Jango were in the kitchen. Nate and Jinn had just left, Nate dropping the Jedi off at the temple before heading to his own apartment. He had an early departure the next morning.

Jango pulled a bottle of ne’tra gal from the conservator and grunted in acknowledgement. He hadn’t been on pain meds for a few months now, but while he was still gaining strength and balance back, baar’ur’s orders were one light drink a day only, and he'd been looking forward to it. 

“I invited the Jedi to stay here permanently,” Cody continued.

Jango nodded as he popped the bottle open. No surprise there, really. The Jedi were overwhelmingly popular among the clones, and the Jedi children were popular with everyone else. While the Jedi were setting up new temples all over the galaxy, several of the council members and all of the younglings had remained on Manda’yaim since they’d left Coruscant nearly six months ago. 

“How’d it go?” He asked.

“I appreciate the generosity, Mand’alor,” Mace said, face solemn as it almost always was. “But the Force calls us to make our homes throughout the galaxy.”

“Too long and too much on Coruscant, we were,” Yoda agreed. 

They were watching a few younglings climbing all over Rex like he was a jungle gym. A little Rodian was standing on his shoulders, leaned forward and braced on the top of Rex's head for balance. Rex was holding very still, arms held out stiff so a couple other kids could swing off them. Cody wasn't sure, but he thought they might be play-acting one of the scenes from the last Brad Dragonsnake holofilm.

“Well, consider this an invitation to make one of your homes here,” Cody said, trying again. "We can add to the current buildings, or even build a full compound somewhere else on Manda'yaim, if you'd prefer."

“Appreciate the refuge here, we do,” Yoda said. 

“But when it’s time, we’ll move on,” Mace said firmly.

“I don’t get it,” Rex complained, sitting down at the counter next to Cody, both of them facing Jango. “Why don’t they want to keep a temple here?”

“They’re stepping away from a millennia-long relationship with a galactic government,” Jango said. “Maybe they’re not looking to jump right into another one.”

“You think they’re worried about being too closely tied to the Federation?” Cody asked.

Jango shrugged. “Might be.”

“Jango, Pre’s here with the converter,” Obi-Wan called, before walking into the kitchen, Pre Vizsla behind him.

“Oh, you just happen to drop that off during family dinner?” Jango asked drily.

“I had a busy day, Fett,” Pre snarked back. “This is the only chance I’ve had to do you any favors.”  The two glared at each other (thought with far less heat than they had a decade ago).

“Oh please, Pre you know you and your family is always welcome here for dinner,” Obi-Wan tutted. Aven called his name, so the Jedi turned back to the living room.

Jango sighed, and pulled another bottle of ne’tra gal out of the conservator, and handed it to Pre.

“What’s wrong with them?” Pre asked, nodding to the discouraged Cody and Rex.

“They’re trying to make the Jedi stay here,” Jango said.

Pre grimaced, then rolled his eyes. “Well, if you must,” he said, side-eying Cody, “but you can’t just bully them into it. Jettise are stubborn, even by our standards.”

Cody thumped his head down onto the counter. “Yes, alright, I get it,” he groaned. Rex patted him on the shoulder consolingly.

“What’s wrong with him?” Seventeen asked as he walked into the room

“He’s despairing over the stubbornness of Jedi,” Rex explained.

Seventeen looked more sympathetic than Jango had ever seen before, as he clapped Cody on the back. “They’re impossible,” he admitted. 

“How do you get Jinn to do what you want?” Cody asked, lifting his head from the counter.

“You’re assuming I do get Jinn to do what I want,” Seventeen grumbled. The other four Mandalorians just stared at him, and Seventeen sighed. “When it works,” he said, as if admitting to a great secret, “it’s because I convinced him it was his own idea.”

“You want us to trick the Jedi into living here?” Rex asked.

“What?" Seventeen's face scrunched up in incredulity. "That’s what you’re trying to do?” Seventeen asked. He gestured to Jango, who rolled his eyes and turned back to the conservator for a third bottle of ne’tra gal. 

“I want them to keep a temple here permanently, yes,” Cody said.

“So we need to make them want to stay, basically,” Rex said thoughtfully.

“What happened on Coruscant was complicated, but a lot of the chatter since then has been about reconnecting with the people of the galaxy,” Seventeen said. “They feel like they were too isolated on Coruscant.”

“Community,” Cody said, eyes focusing. “We need to make them feel like they’re part of our community.”

“They liked the PKA celebration,” Rex added, in agreement. “Could we do more stuff like that?”

“There’s the harvest festival,” Jango said. “But that’s not for months.”

“No, we’ll need something sooner than that,” Cody agreed. “Keep them interested long enough that they just never get around to leaving.”

“We need something else to celebrate,” Rex said. “Something that would interest the Jedi.”

“What else do the Jedi and Mandalorians have in common, except the clones?” Seventeen asked dubiously.

Pre Vizsla, who’d been staring down at his bottle of ne’tra gal, suddenly raised his head.

“I have an idea,” he said.

The sun had set hours ago, and Pre had left around that time. It was now getting close to midnight. Han and Din had already fallen asleep, both collapsed in Han’s bed upstairs. Cody had said he’d return for his son tomorrow, and had left with Jaster a few minutes ago. Boba, Aven, and Three-Five were clearing up the last of the mess in the kitchen. Seventeen had retreated to his room. Obi-Wan, Rex, and Jango were walking Maze out to their speeders.

“Maze, when will the first episode be released?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“First episode of what?” Jango asked.

“Oh, that’s right, you were in the kitchen - Maze is starting a podcast!” Obi-Wan said.

“Oh, politics?” Jango guessed.

“Not quite,” Maze answered.

“Don’t get me wrong, there’s a compelling case for issues with organizational autonomy. But I still think the execution was bungled. We’re still seeing reports galaxy-wide of aid projects thrown into chaos by this move. The Jedi are making the right decision, ultimately, but did they make it in the right way?”

“Good point Vraith. I have some figures here from the Republic’s Bureau of-“

Maze rolled his eyes, rubbing more polish into the pauldron he was cleaning. This was the fourth or fifth time Sundari Symposium had criticized the Jedi Order for leaving the Republic so suddenly. He generally agreed with their take on most political issues (though Vraith Crahl could go kriff himself, seriously), but this one irritated him. They talked about the Jedi like they were supposed to be perfect, like they weren’t living beings just trying to do their best. It was clear none of them had ever met a Jedi, or at least hadn’t really gotten to know one.

Then again, not many people had the opportunity to regularly socialize with Jedi like Maze and his brothers did.

The idea came to life so suddenly that he sat there, frozen, going through the possibilities, until the polish on his rag dried up.

“Anyway, I’m going to interview different Jedi in each episode - give people the opportunity to see them as normal beings, rather than these mythical mysterious people.”

“Are the Jedi going to like that?” Jango asked, dubious. His impression had been that most Jedi preferred to maintain a certain public image.

“They want to feel like they’re connected to the galaxy again,” Rex said, almost to himself. Jango quirked an eyebrow, thinking back to the conversation with Seventeen.

“Yeah, the ones I’ve talked to so far seem excited,” Maze said. He turned back to Obi-Wan. “First episode will be next Taungsday.”

“I’m looking forward to listening,” he said, smiling.

“Who’s the first interview?” Rex asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Maze said with a smirk, as he dropped into his speeder and drove off.

"Everyone's busy," Jango muttered, watching Maze's speeder disappear down the lane.

"Which reminds me - Rex, any ideas yet on what you're doing next?" Obi-Wan asked, reaching over and hugging Rex to his side.

"Ugh, please don't remind me. It's been such a good night," Rex wined, trying to twist away from Obi-Wan.

Jango followed the two of them back inside, as Obi-Wan once again started listing career ideas for Rex. 

"Come on, didn't Ahsoka send you a bunch of ideas yesterday? Did any of them look interesting?" Obi-Wan demanded as they stepped into the house.

"They looked fine. But nothing that really, I don't know, inspired me, I guess." Rex said.

Jango locked up the door behind them.

"Aw, is Rex'ika not feeling inspired?" Three-Five cooed, walking across the living room towards the stairs.

"Ne'johaa," Rex grumbled, and jogged after Three-Five to try and catch him in a headlock, but the younger clone dashed up the stairs before he could reach him.

"I suppose that's it for family night," Obi-Wan said, smiling over at Jango. He held out a hand. "Sleep?"

Jango took his riduur's hand, and the two made their way (a bit more slowly now, stairs were still rough on Jango's hip) up towards the bedrooms.

Chapter Text

"Buir, just let me carry it!" Din insisted, reaching over to take the platter from Cody.

"I've got it," the Mand'alor grumbled, twisting to keep the platter out of his son's hands. He forced down the grimace from the pain in his wrist as he did so.

"I saw that," a voice called out. It was Prime, watching them from where he was standing in the front doorway. "I seem to remember you making several impassioned arguments to me over the last half a year about how respecting your body's limits during healing was in no way a sign of weakness." He raised an eyebrow. "Were you lying to me?"

Cody sighed, did not roll his eyes, an handed the platter over to a smug Din.

"Hey ba'buir!" Din said, carrying the platter past him and towards the kitchen.

"Su'cuy, Din'ika," Prime answered, waiting for Cody. "Wrist still hurts, huh?" he asked. 

Cody shrugged. "A bit," he admitted.

"I'm not surprised. Don't even know where Gregor got a gaderffii. I thought for sure your wrist would rattle if you shook it."

"It's fine," Cody insisted. "I'm only sorry it got in the way of me judging the final match. Thanks for stepping in."

Prime waived his thanks away,  before clapping him on the shoulder and leading him inside.  "Come on, it's a full house tonight, and they're already starting to brainstorm new festival ideas."

Pre Vizsla's idea to throw a celebration honoring Jedi Master and Mand'alor Tarre Vizsla had been a resounding success. And Mace Windu's idea to add a sword-fighting tournament to the day had been inspired. Between the Jedi and their lightsabers, and the Mando'ade and their beskads, there had been plenty of people interested in taking part. Cody had signed himself up to be a judge in the Junior Mixed bracket (Jedi padawans vs Mandalorians within three years of passing their verd’goten), but the challenge from Gregor had interrupted him just before the final match. 

"You do know this is his fourth challenge today?" Ahsoka asked, going through her warm-up stretches. Not angry, just curious. Many of the Jedi seemed a little confused about the "fairness" of a half dozen or so Mando'ade challenging Cody for the darksaber every time he showed his face in public. Cody was just hoping everyone's interest in him would start dying down soon.

"If it makes you feel better, jet'ika," Gregor said, a big grin on his face, "I just came from the Mando bracket, so this'll be my fifth fight today too."

"Oh, that's nice," Ahsoka said. "How'd you do?"

"Focus on your own fight," Prime chided, walking up. He turned to Cody "Go ahead, I'll judge the match with Tano and Bodrix." A glance across the ring showed Bodrix, in Clan Farr colors, trying not to look awkward.

"Come on, Mand'alor," Gregor said, tilting his head in invitation. "I'll make this quick."

Cody sighed and ducked under the barrier between the ring and the crowd, following Gregor to a quiet side street while eying the gaderffii strapped to his back. He'd been looking forward to watching Ahsoka win, too.

The point was, the Tarre Vizsla celebration had successfully distracted the Jedi for another month. Hypothesis confirmed, they were suckers for a cultural festival.

Sometimes, military strategy wasn't that different from childcare. If you found a strategy that worked, keep using it until the effects change. And so, while Din and Boba put together a few dozen sandwiches with the meats and cheeses Cody had brought with him, an informal festival committee gathered in the living room.

They needed to come up with other festivals to throw that would continue to keep the Jedi interested and distracted, so they forgot to move off-planet.

Luckily, the Mandalorians had a few allies.

"I promise, you don't need to have sword-fighting every time," Aayla insisted. "We'll have just as much fun with other types of festivals. There weren't any dueling competitions at the PKA anniversary, remember?"

"But everyone really seemed to love it," Aven insisted.

"That's true," Ahsoka said. "But we love other things too. Plus, we tend to be pretty competitive in general." She saw Cody's eyes light up, and held a hand out fast. "That doesn't mean there always needs to be a competition, either!" she added.

"Variety, I think, is important," Aayla concluded.

"The competitions are popular with the Mando'ade too," Bly admitted.

"What? Competitive clones? You must be joking," Aven said, deadpan.

Wordlessly, Rex held up his datapad. It was opened to JAI, and showed Fox's latest post, bragging about winning the championship in the Adult Mixed bracket. "That shabuir heard the world 'competition' and practically forged a new hyperlane to get here in time."

"Master Mace told Master Plo that he thinks Master Vos cheated to help Fox win," Ahsoka said, smirking. "But he can't prove it. Then Master Tholme said that Master Vos wouldn’t be very good at his job if he couldn't get away with influencing a little competition without getting caught, so if anything Master Mace should be congratulating him."

Cody whistled. "Anybody try to tell Fox that his boyfriend helped him win?"

"No way," Ahsoka scoffed. "They're all too scared to."

The groups laughter drew Obi-Wan into the room, leading Waxer, Boil, and Numa.

"Look who's here, everyone," Obi-Wan announced, and the committee broke up to greet the visitors.

"I'm just saying," Aven said, around a mouthful of sandwich. He caught Obi-Wan's eye and swallowed before continuing. "The Buire Association at Han's school is way more interesting than I thought it'd be."

Nate groaned, leaning across Rex (who scowled at him) to grab another sandwich. "Seriously, vod, no more super-buir talk today, okay? I can't take it."

"Shut up, Nate," Aven cheerfully responded. He nodded to Cody. "Now that Din'ika's passed his verd'goten, you'll have time to join the BA, I bet, right?"

Cody took a moment to chew and swallow. "Probably not," he admitted with a shrug.

"You're lucky," Han muttered to Din. "Buir knows all the teachers now, and keeps talking to them."

"It's important to be involved!" Aven argued. He turned to Jango, "You agree, ri-" he cut himself off, then turned to the other side, where Jaster was sitting. "You agree, right?"

Jango rolled his eyes, and caught Cody doing the same across the table.

"I homeschooled Jango," Jaster said easily.

"That explains a lot," Obi-Wan said below his breath, and Jango took a piece of tomato that had fallen out of his sandwich and threw it at his riduur.

Obi-Wan's squawk caught the attention of Numa. The ten-year-old had picked up Basic pretty well in the two or three years she'd lived on Manda'yaim, but she'd been excited when she realized that Ahsoka spoke Rhyl, and had been chattering away to the Togruta since they'd sat down. When she saw Obi-Wan pick the tossed tomato slice out of his hair, she eyed her own sandwich with interest.

"Don't even think about it," Boil said firmly.

"She would never," Waxer said, defending his daughter.

Numa stared up at Boil with exaggerated tooka eyes. He stared her down, then sighed.

"Your kid's got you wrapped around her finger, vod," he muttered, but reached over to put another sandwich on Numa's plate anyway.

"You're both ridiculous," Boba muttered, scowling at his own sandwich.

"What's wrong with you?" Waxer asked.

Boba raised his eyes to meet Waxers, scowl turning into a proper glower. Waxer winced and looked to Rex for an answer.

"His last bounty got stolen out from under him," Rex explained.

Boba switched his visor to infrared vision. Hoth was kriffing freezing - his bounty was for dead or alive, but just for the discomfort of having to come to Hoth, Boba was leaning towards dead - and so he hoped his bounty's body heat would make finding him in the canyon quick work.

Boba had been tracking this sleemo for over a week. What kind of dikut steals from the Pykes and ran to an ice planet to hide? But he'd found the smuggler's ship tucked into a shallow cave at the mouth of his canyon, and Boba couldn't imagine the guy would get far on foot.

His beskar'gam had climate control, but not strong enough for this. Boba just wanted to find the bounty, drag him back to the Slave, and get the engines running as quickly as possible so the heat would kick in. 

He made his way down the canyon, scanning in a fan formation as he went, searching for any heat source.

And finally - there! He took a breath, kept his posture calm and relaxed. His quarry was hiding behind what was probably a boulder under all that snow (looked like he was in some sort of survivalist tent, the way the heat signature was dispursed a bit), but Boba had to assume he had some sort of warning system set up to alert him to anyone approaching. So Boba played it casual, making it look like he was adjusting a strap on his hip instead of just reaching for his blaster.

He was only about a yard away from the tent - which was itself covered in snow, but now that he was looking for it he could tell the silhouette was a little unnatural - when

BAM!

Something shot out of the tent. Not at Boba, but aimed a bit above him.

He gripped his blaster and dove around the other side of the boulder. Just like he'd thought, the sleemo had a warning system set up.

"Don't bother, Jafan," Boba called. "You can't stop me from bringing you back to the Pykes."

Jafan didn't respond. After a moment, Boba ducked his head around the boulder, then swore.

The snow was disturbed, and the tent wide open and empty. Jafan must have run for it, ice planet or no ice planet.

Just before Boba spun to start chasing the tracks, he noticed something in the tent. A splatter of red - blood? But-

He heard a roar behind him, and turned around in time to see a small ship take off from atopt he canyon wall.

His contact with the Pykes commed him the next morning to inform him that the bounty had been completed by someone else.

"Karking ridiculous," Boba muttered. Waxer reached over to cover Numa's ears, scowling at Boba for the language.

"Bounties get stolen sometimes," Rex said soothingly. "It happens to everyone."

"It hasn't happened to me before," Boba snapped. "It doesn't happen to Fox."

"It definitely happens to Fox," Jango said, entering the conversation. "You start taking the high value bounties, everyone's going to try and steal it from you, guild rules or not. You should never assume that you're the only one-"

"I didn't assume anything!" Boba argued. "I don't even know how they-" he cut himself off, and stood up from the table. "I'll be in my room," he muttered, and left.

Jango caught Obi-Wan's eye. Boba had been in a rancid mood all week. Obi-Wan had pressured him to join the family dinner, despite Jango's advice to leave him alone. Obi-Wan grimaced a bit and shrugged.

"I'll send Han up with more sandwiches later" he offered.

Further down the table, Han wined.

As usual, a group had migrated outside after dinner was finished. Bly wasn’t on Manda’yaim often, so it wasn’t all that surprising when Rex challenged him to a wrestling spar. And once he’d started, Boil, Nate, Three-Five, Din, and Waxer were all quick to join in. Numa, Ahsoka, Aayla, and Han followed to cheer the competition on. Obi-Wan and Maze were cleaning up in the kitchen, so Jaster ushered the others to the living room.

Cody sighed as he sat down on the couch, dropping his head back on the headrest.

“I don’t know how you two did this,” he said. “I’m exhausted all the time.”

Jaster chuckled. “Well, it’ll certainly get easier when you’re fighting less,” he pointed out. 

“And not trying to run planet-wide festivals every month,” Jango added.

Cody scrunched his face. “I have to keep fighting to stay Mand’alor, and I want to keep doing the festivals to keep the Jedi here,” he retorted. “I don’t like the idea of giving up.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Jango muttered.

“So, the plan is definitely to continue the festivals?” Aven asked.

Cody nodded, head still hanging back. “Yeah, it seems to be working. I just need to keep coming up with new festival ideas, apparently.”

“You could just use the clan festivals,” Jaster suggested. “Why invent new reasons to celebrate, when the old clans have already done that?”

Cody picked his head up. “What clan festivals?” He asked.

Jaster cast a very judgmental look towards Jango, who quirked an eyebrow. “You can’t blame this on me, he’s practically spent more time living under your roof than mine.”

Jaster sighed. “Don’t you have brothers you’re close to who joined any of the old clans?  Shale? Cadera? Awaud?”

Cody glanced at Aven, who just shrugged. “I mean, I served with plenty of verd from old clans during the war…” he said.

Jaster shook his head. “No, that would’t do. You don’t really have festivals in a war zone.” He glanced around the room, then sat up a bit straighter. “Alright, Mandalorian history lesson-“ Aven groaned, but Jaster ignored him. “You take for granted how unified the Mando’ade are now. Especially in a big city like Keldabe. But on other planets, or even other parts of Manda’yaim, and especially before you arrived, it was far more common for the large clans to live in relative isolation. The Skirata clan up in Kyri’morut is a good example. Big, fortified compound, almost nobody living around who isn’t Clan Skirata.” 

Cody nodded to show he understood.

“And we lived like that for decades, for centuries. Sure, we were all Mandalorian, but culturally, things could pretty regional. Clans would tell different stories, sing different songs. Had their own tingilaar recipes. Of course, problems arose when clans diverged so far that they started fighting each other. But after the clan wars it’s easy to forget that a lot of those cultural developments were quite beautiful. Many of the larger, older clans even started developing their own holidays.”

Cody suddenly saw where this was going. “You think we could revive them?” He asked.

“No need to revive them, I’m sure,” Jango jumped in. “It’d be more like amplifying them. Making them planet-wide celebrations, instead of keeping it confined to the one clan.”

“Would the clans want that?” Aven asked. “Or are they, I don’t know, personal?”

Jaster shrugged. “Some of them might not be keen on it. But many of these holidays were celebrating points of great pride in the clan’s history. I’m sure many clan leaders would love to have the Mand’alor draw attention to them.”

Cody started making a mental to-do list. Sho would probably have a clear list of these clan holidays. From there, it should be easy to contact the clan leaders, work out a calendar…

Jango grunted as he started pushing himself up from the couch next to him. His hip must have stiffened up. Cody tamped down on the urge to offer help, having learned better by now.

“Oh, Jango dear, let me-“ Obi-Wan said, walking into the room just in time to see Jango clutch at the arm of the couch.

“I’ve got it,” Jango snapped. Obi-Wan froze as he was reaching out to his riduur, but Jango pulled himself up, and walked (stiffly) outside to watch the wrestling spars.

“Come sit down, Ob’ika,” Jaster called. “Tell me about your new club.”

Obi-Wan dragged his eyes away from the door, and smiled broadly. “Oh, the Keldabe Garden Club - you’ll enjoy this Jaster, we had our first meeting at Clan-“

A somewhat warbly war-cry (clearly from Din, who’s voice was still trying to make up its mind about which pitch to rest at) sounded from the front yard, and Cody - grinning - also left the couch to watch Din wrestle.

“So, where’s Seventeen this week? Must be good, if he’s missing a family dinner,” Maze said. They’d gotten tired of wrestling, but a group had migrated over to the table in the shura orchard, and Nate had brought out a case of ne’tra gal. He would have caved to Ahsoka’s attempts to get him to give her a bottle, if not for Rex’s protective and judgmental gaze. Having given up on the drink, Ahsoka turned to climbing the tree nearest the table.

“Apparently he’s babysitting Anakin’s kids,” Rex answered, taking a swig.

Maze and Nate both burst into laughter.

“I can’t decide which part of that is more upsetting. Seventeen as a babysitter, or Anakin with babies,” Three-Five said.

“Seventeen as a babysitter, for sure,” Boil chimed in. He’d stayed behind with them when Din took Waxer and Numa to go see the frogs in the pond out front.

“Seventeen babysat me once,” Ahsoka said idly, swinging around to hang upside-down from a branch. “Course, I was ten, not a baby. And he did spend the whole time talking about the differences between the DC-15A and DC-15S blasters. But overall, it was fine.”

The clones stared at Ahsoka for a moment. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask you about having Seventeen in the temple during our interview,” Maze said.

“I haven’t listened to it yet,” Nate said. “It went well?”

“What do you mean you haven’t listened to it yet?” Maze exclaimed. “It’s only an hour long, and it’s been out for two weeks!”

“I was busy,” Nate said.

“Out making another less-than-legal delivery run?” Rex asked. “When are you going to get a real job, vod?”

“Out of the two of us, which is actually unemployed?” Nate snapped back, and Rex scowled.

“I thought my interview was pretty good,” Ahsoka said, flipping out of the tree and landing easily on her feet. “But it wasn’t as funny as the one with Master Vos and Secura.”

“You’re a dirty liar, Aayla!” Vos shouted. “I did not fall asleep in a dumpster 'like a hungover tooka'. I was hit by a poison dart and then fell into the dumpster.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Aayla said airily.

“Either way, it’s fair to say your night ended unconscious in a dumpster?” Maze asked, trying to keep the interview on track. 

“What?” Quinlan was confused for a moment. He and Aayla had been yelling at each other for a while. He’d kind of forgotten the Mandalorian was there. “Uh, no. I woke up like an hour later in the back of the speeder Aayla stole. We caught up with the spice-dealers twenty levels down. Arrested six of them.”

“Not that we got any credit for it,” Aayla muttered, looking pissed. “All thanks to that Sith-spawn vulture of a detective, Tan Divo.” 

“Yeah, get karked, Divo!” Quinlan shouted into the mic.

“Again, this is Beskar and Banter, and I’m your host Maze Fett,” Maze said, trying to salvage the episode before he lost control of it for good. “Today interviewing esteemed Jedi masters Quinlan Vos and Aayla Secura.”

“Man, Divo was the ugliest kriffing nerf-herder I’ve ever met,” Aayla said, and Maze sat back, resigned to letting Vos and Aayla spend the episode talking about whatever they wanted.

“I think I need to get more experience at this before I do any more double interviews,” Maze muttered, opening up another bottle of ne’tra gal.

“Ba’vodu, ba’vodu!” Numa shouted, running over. She held up her two hands, clamped tightly around a squirming frog. 

“Wow, nice job, Numa!” Boil said, looking impressed. “How’d you catch it?”

“Buir caught it,” Numa said proudly. “He’s really good at it.”

Three-Five watched the exchange, eyes going a bit distant. He startled when Ahsoka shoved her way onto the bench next to him.

“Happy thoughts at the family dinner,” she said. Rex looked confused, but Three-Five grimaced a bit and took a drink.

“Zho really is the best,” Cody announced, nearly skipping down the stairs.

“No arguments here,” Jaster agreed easily. 

“She already got you a list of clan festivals?” Bly asked.

“Not only that, but Clan Ordo has a festival coming up in a couple weeks. She patched me through to Ollux Ordo-“

“Ollux Ordo?” Obi-Wan asked, a bit indignant.

“Yeah, his name’s Ollux Ordo,” Cody confirmed, “and he’d be honored if I spread awareness of their Canderous Ordo celebration across Manda’yaim.

“Canderous Ordo?” Aayla asked, sounding a bit gleeful. “What do they do for the festival?”

“Ollux said they always do a re-telling of Canderous Ordo’s life story, then they play dejarik for hours.”

“Dejarik?” Han asked, sounding interested.

“Yeah, to honor Ordo’s strategic skill,” Cody answered. “Oh, and I guess traditionally they’d also do dares to test each other’s pain tolerance.” Obi-Wan, Aayla, and Han grimaced. “But, uh, Ollux said that part usually gets left out these days.”

“Yeah, let’s not give Rex and Ahsoka any ideas,” Jango said. “We don’t need a repeat of the retirement party.”

“Ahsoka won’t be here anyway,” Bly said. “She was just visiting for the Tarre Vizsla celebration, right?”

For a second, Jango’s face fell in disappointment. Cody, who’d been sitting down on the couch, caught it and pointed at him in triumph. “I saw that! Admit it, you’re sad she’s leaving! See, this is why we need to trick them into staying.”

“Convince us into staying, you mean,” Aayla said, rolling her eyes.

Cody shrugged. “Whatever works,” he said.

Waxer stepped into the room, nudging Numa along. “Hey, it’s getting pretty late, so I think we’re going to head out.”

Jaster sighed as he stood up. Time to start making the rounds of goodbyes, the family dinner finally drawing to a close.

Chapter Text

"Come on, we agreed that we'd stop in for a couple hours, get some food, and then go meet Tavo and Sull for drinks."

"I know," Nate groaned. "But nobody's seen us yet. We can just turn around and leave."

Sheeka rolled her eyes. "Two hours of making nice with your family, who you love, and then we can leave." She reached out and laced her fingers with his. "Come on, you can complain all you want, but I know it's important to you that I can fit in with them. This helps with that."

She was right, as she usually was. She'd been right all those years ago when she suggested they take things slow. And it had worked - nearly a decade later and they were still together. Nate kissed her on the cheek, and walked with her towards the front door.

"Besides," Sheeka continued, "A night out with Tavo and Sull's going to be loud, you know it will be. It'll be nice to start off with a quiet family dinner."

"I don't think anyone's ever called this family quiet before," Nate remarked, reaching out to knock on the door (a few months ago Boba had gotten home from a bounty early and walked in the door without warning, and Prime had nearly shot him. The Fett-vode group chat had concluded that it was best to just knock on the door to avoid accidentally sneaking up on anyone in the house.)

"You know what I mean," Sheeka said. They heard the vague noise of someone talking inside. "They're loud, but happy. It's calming."

The door whipped open, Din holding it but his head turned back to someone else in the house. "-fine, since I guess I have to do everything you say FOREVER!"

Sheeka and Nate both stood there, startled. Din turned his head to face them. "Hi," he grumbled, and stepped aside.

Nate walked in, Sheeka close behind him. Cody and Obi-Wan were sitting on one of the couches. Obi-Wan had that blank look on his face that meant he was Very Worried, and Cody just looked tired.

"What's going on?" Nate asked slowly, eyeing Din but trying to be subtle about it.

"We'll explain once everyone's arrived," Cody said, with the tone of someone who's already said this several times.

Din snorted, and closed the door, crossing his arms. "If everything down here is going to be stupid, I'm going up to Han's room," he grumbled, and practically stomped up the stairs.

Sheeka turned to Cody, eyes wide. They'd never seen Din as anything other than respectful and well-behaved.

"We'll explain once everyone's arrived," Cody said again, face grim.

Rex stuck his head out from the kitchen. "Is it safe out here now?" he asked.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic," he chided softly. "He's still nowhere near as bad as Boba was when he hit puberty."

"That's not the problem," Cody argued.

"Whatever the problem is," Obi-Wan said, eyeing Cody, "trust me, puberty is at least part of it. And it will be, I'll remind you, for the next few years."

"Goodbye, sweet, innocent, Din," Rex said mournfully, flopping down on the couch just as Nate was leading Sheeka over there to sit. Nate glared at Rex until his vod'ika sat up, making space for them.

"Few years?" Nate asked, grinning. "Ori'vod's twenty now and I'm still waiting for him to turn into a sweet innocent kid again."

"Well, there's your problem," Cody said, smirking. "Boba was never sweet to begin with."

"Oh, get karked," Boba complained, coming out of the kitchen with Prime behind him, carrying a tray of drinks.

"Who exactly is the everyone we're waiting for before we can talk about Din?" Prime asked, voice a little lower than normal, as if he was afraid the angry teen would hear him from upstairs. Which, given how many times Nate had found Din and Han listening from the stairwell when they weren't supposed to, was not an unreasonable concern.

"Ba'buir, Three-Five, and Maze," Cody said. "Seventeen's on a mission and won't make it." Nate subtly checked the time on his comm. Just one hour and fifty-five more minutes before they could leave to join Tavo and Sull.

"Alright, let's leave it alone for now," Obi-Wan said, handing a drink from the tray across the caf table to Sheeka, as Boba handed one to Nate. "You two landed late last night," he said to Boba and Rex. "How was your hunt?"

Nate looked up at Rex with interest. The blonde was still moping between the farm and Jaster's compound, complaining about having no calling in life. Boba had finally gotten fed up a week or two ago and dragged him on a hunt, to see if Rex had interest in becoming a bounty-hunter.

"Oh yeah," he said. "You survived, at least. Were you successful, or did you lose the bounty to another ghost?"

Boba whipped his head around to glare at Nate, his glare fierce and miserable.

Nate's face broke into a wide grin, and he cackled. "Are you kriffing serious? Again?"

"It's not a ghost," Boba insisted.

"Definitely not a ghost," Rex admitted.

"And this is... fun for you?" Rex asked skeptically. He and Boba had been hiding out behind an abandoned rusty speeder across the street from the Corellian pawn show for three hours. Something oily had been pooling around the speeder, and it had now soaked into Rex's pants. It looked like it might rain soon. And he was bored.

"It's satisfying when the job is completed," Boba said. "That doesn't have to mean all parts of the job are fun."

"If you say so," Rex grumbled.

"Oh, and was every part of being a farmer full of giggles and good times?" Boba argued. He refused to take his eye off the scope, aimed right at the front door of the shop, but he angled his head towards Rex slightly. 

"No," Rex said simply. "That's why I wanted to try something else."

Boba sighed and shifted his weight. "Look, you spent years living with Jedi, so there's no way I'm the first person to tell you this," Boba said, "But no job is fun one hundred percent of the time. It's just about finding something that balances out in the positive, yeah?"

Rex was quiet for a moment. "Stop being mature," he finally muttered. "It's unsettling."

Boba rolled his eyes, but was stopped from retorting when the shop door opened.

"Here we go," he said, focused entirely on the door. As soon as their mark appeared, supposedly finished with the meeting that proved he was double-crossing his employer (and Boba's client), he would take the shot, and the job would be finished. "Remember, the local cohort wears matching helmets, so don't shoot until we confirm it's Gunnar."

"Red lining on the jacket, I remember," Rex said, focusing on his own scope.

A being - hopefully Gunnar, appeared, but before he lifted his hand to say farewell to the shop owner (the movement that would angle his jacket just right for them to catch the lining), a shot rang out and the man collapsed, helmet cracked right down the middle.

"Did you see the lining?" Boba demanded, turning to Rex.

"No! Did you?" Rex asked.

"No! Why did you shoot, then?" Boba asked.

"I didn't, I thought you did."

The two stared at each other. Then at Gunnar. Then they turned, and looked up at the top of the building on their side of the street. Something on the roof glinted in the weak sunlight. Boba used his HUD to zoom in, and saw the tail end of someone collapsing a sniper blaster, and ducking off the room.

"Dank karking ferrik," Boba growled, standing up, and racing towards the building.

"Hey, what about Gunnar?" Rex called, but Boba was gone.

Rex hesitated, before deciding it was better to chase Boba, in case he ran into trouble, then to stay with Gunnar's corpse. He ran after him into the building, but the lift was already gone. Frustrated, he jabbed at the button until the lift returned, then he took it up to the top floor. 

He found Boba standing on the edge of the roof, staring at the pawn shop.

"That's a pretty good shot," Rex grudgingly admitted, eyeing the distance.

"They're already gone," Boba said, sounding furious. "And they took Gunnar too."

Sure enough, the dead body was gone.

Rex sighed, and eyed his pants, ruined with whatever'd been seeping into them for hours. He decided now was not the time to ask Boba if the satisfaction of the job finished had balanced out as a positive for him this time. Instead, he just clasped his hand on his big/little brother's shoulder.

"What me to buy you a drink?" he asked.

"Yes," Boba growled.

"Anyway, I don't think bounty hunting is for me," Rex concluded.

Boba slunk down into the couch from where he was wedged between Obi-Wan and Cody, clearly sulking.

Prime sighed and pat Boba on the shoulder before returning to the kitchen.

"Aven decided he wanted to learn Prime's tiingilar recipe," Cody explained to Nate. "They've been in there for hours."

Sheeka was staring into her cup, frowning thoughtfully. "How did puberty even work on Kamino?" she asked, having apparently been wondering about it since before Rex's story.

Rex blinked. "Well, it was only half as long as it is for natborns-" he started.

"And the long-necks timed it so the whole batch started within a couple days of each other," Cody added. "So the whole barracks was going through it at the same time."

Sheeka looked mildly horrified. "How did your trainers survive that?" she asked.

Nate snorted, and Cody looked bemused, glancing up at the ceiling, no doubt thinking of his own son. "They had us run a lot of laps," he admitted.

Jaster arrived with Three-Five just a few minutes before Maze's arrival, and within twenty minutes the family was seated around the table, complimenting Aven and Jango on the tiingilar.

It was... tense. Din was silently brooding in that way all teenagers had a natural skill for. Jango always thought it was impressive how their silence could be so loud. Han was reacting to Din's sulk by being as outwardly cheerful as possible, which was only drawing more attention to the contrast. Cody, Obi-Wan, and Jaster were pretending that everything was fine, and the rest of them were just waiting for the other boot to drop. 

Jango caught Sheeka's eye from across the table. Just once he'd like for her to see him or his family when they weren't being a complete disaster.

"So, how was the festival?" Sheeka asked, voice upbeat. "It was for Clan Ordro, right?"

"Canderous Ordro," Jaster corrected. "I think it went quite well."

"I still think they should have left in the test for pain tolerance," Boba complained. "But the dejarik competition was fun."

"I made a thousand credits," Han said happily.

Sheeka looked impressed. "You won a thousand credits playing dejarik?" she asked.

Han looked confused. "No, I won a thousand credits betting on dejarik."

"Let me get this straight," Jango said, looking down at his grandson curiously. "You refuse to complete your math coursework because it's - in your words - useless. But you just calculate the betting odds on every person his tournament, both in the case that the favorite wins the first round, and if she loses the first round?"

"It's really not that complicated, ba'buir," Han said. He played it cool, but Jango could tell he was inwardly preening. 

"Han!" Both Fetts looked over to see Qi'ra and Zho making their way across the crowd. Han's eyes lit up when he spotted Qi'ra. He'd been very upset those first few weeks on Manda'yaim, when Aven had decided that it was better if he and Qi'ra were adopted into separate families. But he and Zho made sure the two attended the same school in Keldabe, so they rarely went more than a couple days without seeing each other.

"Qi'ra, tell ba'buir that calculating the betting odds on the dejarik tournament isn't that hard."

Qi'ra blinked. "I mean, there's only a couple dozen players in Keldabe's tournament," she said. "Nothing at all like tracking the odds on the galactic podracing circuit."

"That's what I said!" Han exclaimed, then turned to Jango. "See? I'm not making it up."

Jango raised an eyebrow. "Are you confident enough to put your money where your mouth is?" he challenged. Han talked a big talk. At some point he'd have to get used to backing it up.

Han scoffed, putting his hands on his hips. "Absolutely!" he said with great confidence. Then wilted. "But Comet won't take bets from kids. He said you had to have passed your verd'goten first."

"You already tried to place a bet?" Zho asked, bemused.

Han looked at her like she was crazy. "The odds on Longshot are 675 to 1, cause the other gamblers think the name's unlucky, plus he was apparently still drunk from last night when he signed up this morning."

"That seems like a poor bet," she pointed out.

Han scoffed again. "But Din said that when he was with the 26th army during the war, Longshot never lost a game of dejarik to anyone."

Jango looked across the square. Longshot was sitting in a huddle of his vode and clan cousins, still looking pretty green around the gills, waiting for his first match to start. 

"You're that confident?" he asked Han again.

"I'm completely confident," Han said.

Jango nodded. "Okay, I'll go place a bet for you," he said, standing up.

Han perked up, and Qi'ra looked interested. "Really?" the boy gasped.

"Only one credit," Jango said. "And if you're wrong, you help Obi-Wan with early morning chores for a month." Han had to learn to back up his words.

Han didn't even hesitate. "Deal!"

Aven looked like he couldn't decide if he was very proud, or very embarrassed. Jango thought Aven should just be proud. He'd found the kid as a pickpocket on Corellia, for ka'ra's sake, and had never made any pretense of wanting to walk the straight and narrow side of life. Which was fine, they were Mandalorians. As long as Aven taught Han how to get himself out of a tough spot, he'd be fine.

"Speaking of bets," Jaster said, adding another helping of tiingilar to his bowl, "Maze, how did the reviews of your latest episode go? Did the 'Jedi detective' catch everyone's interest like you thought?"

Maze's eyes widened, and he tore up a bit of bread on his plate. "Uh- I may based those expectations too much on the Jedi's title, and not enough on his, um, storytelling abilities."

"Yes, yes, most beings don't know this, but the most common reason those in organized crime are finally arrested is due to financial crimes. So, as I said, carefully reviewing their tax and banking records is of the utmost importance. Now, it's critical to note that the Banking Clan has always had a firm privacy policy for their clients, so one must be sure to have filled out the proper paperwork ahead of time-"

"Uh, Master Sinube," Maze said, taking advantage of the elderly Jedi pausing to take a breath. "Maybe you could tell us about one of your most exciting arrests?"

The Cosian blinked at him for a moment, then re-grouped. "Ah, yes, of course. Well, the year was 879 After the Ruusan Reformation. I had been investigating the crimes of a gang in Coco Town that we suspected had ties to the Pyke Syndicate. As mentioned, financial records are key in such cases, and so I first carefully filled out the necessary paperwork. Errors here could jeopardize future prosecution, so here's what you should know about Banking Clan forms-"

Maze sighed. 

"I, for one, found Master Sinube's thorough explanation of investigative protocol to be quite illuminating," Obi-Wan said, laying his old Coruscanti accent on extra-thick for effect. 

"Well, you are in small, but very well-informed company," Maze grumbled.

"Next time pick on of the Jedi that fights stuff," Three-Five suggested.

Maze rolled his eyes, frustrated. "Tera Sinube spent his career fighting the undercity gangs of Coruscant, he was in plenty of fights!"

"Maybe one that's been in a fight this century," Rex said drily.

Maze poked at his tiingilar, muttering under his breath.

Obi-Wan sighed, pushing his empty bowl and inch or two away from him. "Alright, Cody, I think you've left us all in suspense long enough," he said, looking over to Cody, who scowled reflexively. "What's going on?"

Jango eyed Din, whose scowl matched his buir (and Jango was used to seeing his own expressions reflected on literally millions of identical faces, but someone seeing it on Din always surprised him.)

"Din, do you want to tell them?" Cody asked.

Din straightened up, still scowling but determination in his eyes, and declared, "I asked Walon Vau to train me, but he said I need my clan's blessing before he'll agree, and buir thinks it's a bad idea."

"Vau?" Rex demanded, shocked.

Jango blinked. Walon Vau, former member of the Cuy'val Dar, the Mandalorian trainers on Kamino. He'd been a member of the Haat'ade before Galidraan, same as Kal Skirata and most of the other trainers Jango had hired. He'd been possessive over the cadets under his supervision, Delta Squad, and had taken some... extreme stances on their training. Jango knew that Vau's harsh and sometimes violent reputation among the clones had lingered. It didn't help that Vau himself had moved to Kyrimorut with Skirata, and was rarely seen in the larger cities. Aside from his time as general during the war against the Hutts, many clones hadn't actually seen or heard from Vau since leaving Kamino.

"Why would - how did this even happen?" Aven asked.

"You all kept saying that Delta Squad were some of the toughest fighters you've ever seen!" Din argued, already defensive. "So, when I saw him, I- I asked him if he would train me too."

"Do I look like I knew that?" Walon Vau's voice was as cold, and his black beskargam was intimidting, but Din refused to show fear.

"No," he said simply. "You didn't look like you knew me at all, that's why I introduced myself." By name and clan, like his buir had taught him.

The Mando'ad standing behind Vau was wearing their buy'ce, but Din could recognize enough from posture by now to see tathe was amused. Vau was not.

"What do you want then, Din Djarin of Clan Mereel?" he demanded.

"I want you to train me," Din said, standing as tall as he could. Buir kept saying he was going to be taller than the Fett clones by the time he was done growing, but that didn't help him feel taller now, did it?

The Mando'ad behind Vau straightened to attention, no longer amused. Vau was silent for a moment, then pulled his buy'ce off. His face looked as cold as his voice had sounded, and he stared at Din intently, frowning.

"Why? Is your buir neglecting your training?"

"No!" Din denied.

"Do you think he's not a good enough warrior?" Vau asked, face still hard and cold.

"No, I know my buir is a great warrior." Din said, frowning. "But I also know that you train great warriors."

Vau raised on of his eyebrows, just barely. "I feel like your ba'buir would fit that definition too."

Din shook his head. "It's different with Ba'buir Jango. He trains me too, but he doesn't see a cadet when he looks at me. He sees..." Din trailed off, not sure how to explain it.

"An ade," Vau filled in. "That's not a bad thing, you know. Most of the cadets we trained would be happy to hear that."

"I want to get stronger. Everyone keeps telling me it'll happen with time, to be patient. But I- I don't want the easy way, the slow journey." Din looked down at his feet as he tried to find the words to describe the drive he felt. The dissatisfaction with his current training.

Vau waited for Din to stop talking, and look back up at him. "There are plenty of people who can train you who aren't your family," he said. "If you explain yourself to your buir, he will recommend additional trainers to you."

"I want you to train me. My ba'vodu'e all said that you trained the fiercest cadets." The Mando'ad behind Vau huffed.

Vau was quiet for a long moment. He maintained eye contact with Din, and Din felt like he did sometimes when meeting O'buir's Jedi friends. Like he was looking inside Din, and seeing things that Din didn't know where in him.

"I'm not a kind man, Djarin. There is a world of difference between wanting a trainer who won't coddle you, and me." He shifted his head, just slightly, as if he were looking at the Mando'ad behind him, though his eyes stayed fixed on Din. "I can't imagine that any of the troopers I trained would recommend the experience."

The Mando'ad behind Vau stayed silent. Din wondered if he was one of those troopers.

"I know," Din said. "My ba'vodu'e said a lot of things about you."

"And how do you think they'd feel about you being here today?" Vau asked, giving no hints as to what answer he wanted to hear.

"They probably wouldn't like it," Din said honestly. "But their training is already done."

"And your buir? Your ba'buir?" Vau straightened a bit from where he'd just barely been leaning towards Din. "They would never let you train with me."

Din clenched his fist, face firm. "I've passed by verd'goten," he said. "They can't stop me."

Vau's lip twitched, just barely. It was almost nothing. Would have been nothing, on a face that wasn't Vau's, and therefore slightly more expressive than stone. But Din knew this was the first hint of approval.

After a few minutes of silence, Vau sighed. "I return to Kyrimorut in four days," he said. "Until then I'm staying in the inn across from the Oyu'baat, you know the one?" he waited for Din to nod. "Talk to your buire. You may have passed your verd'goten, but that doesn't mean you should suddenly ignore the wishes of your clan." He turned to nod at the Mando'ad behind him, who gathered up the things they'd been buying started walking out of the store. "If you get their blessing, come find me there and we can discuss a training plan."

Din wanted to grin, but tried to force his face to remain calm. Somehow he didn't think Vau would appreciate it. He nodded. "Vor entye," he said.

Vau huffed, then turned to leave the store. "Don't thank me yet" were his parting words.

"Okay," Obi-Wan said slowly, skimming the unhappy expressions around the table (except for Han and Sheeka, who just looked confused.) "Well, with Vau living all the way up in Kyrimorut, it's definitely not the most convenient solution. Maybe we can come up with some ideas that are closer to home?"

"People travel for training and work all the time," Din argued. "Ba'vodu Seventeen's almost never on Mandalore at all, and Ba'vodu Boba and Ba'vodu Nate are gone nearly half the time. Ba'vodu Rex even moved to Tatooine for years for his job." Rex opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Din kept going. "And before you say it was different because you were older, Ba'buir Obi-Wan was even younger than me when he moved to Bandomeer for his training!"

Obi-Wan tipped his head, reaching for a glass of water. "That is true," he allowed, "thought I wasn't moving away from my family to do it."

Din turned wide eyes to Obi-Wan. "But I thought you said the Jedi were your family?" he asked. It was a good argument on its own, but the wide-eyed, innocent look - Jango wasn't sure how many of the others had picked up on this yet, but Jango was sure Din was doing it on purpose at least half the time now. He'd be a fierce hunter someday, Jango knew it.

"Ah-" Obi-Wan stuttered, caught off guard. "Yes, I supposed that is true." His eyes darted to Cody. "But, uh..."

"Walon Vau isn't fit to be a trainer," Cody said firmly. Jango felt the old guilt twist in his stomach - farther away now than it had been a decade a go, but never gone entirely.

"Alright, I'll admit it, us lowly peasants down in Squad 23-4b didn't get all the exciting clone commando gossip," Three-Five said, voice intentionally light. "What's the deal with Vau?"

"He's a psychopath," Rex said.

"He's not a psychopath," Jaster said mildly. "As I'll have you remember that I've known him for several decades, and named him a general - a duty he performed well and without any complaint from anyone in his command."

"Well, things were a bit different on Kamino," Cody said. "I'm sorry, ba'buir, but Vau was barely better than Priest or Reau." That was not true. Priest and Reau were monsters who laughed when cadets got hurt or died. Vau was cold, and cruel in his way, but nothing like that. But Jango didn't say any of that out loud.

"Wow, I'm so glad you're clearing this up for me," Three-Five said, voice very dry.

"I once watched Walon Vau snap a cadet's arm to make him prove that he could run a training course injured," Cody said, nearly growling. "I don't want that shabuir anywhere near my son."

"But you said - buir, you said that the cadets he trained were the toughest fighters!" Din said, obviously not the first time he'd thrown those words back at Cody.

"Okay, well first of all, your buir was wrong," Maze said, grinning (though the smile didn't reach his eyes.) "Alpha Squad obviously had the toughest fighters."

"No," Boba said, refilling his cup with water. "It was Delta Squad."

"Oh, what would you know, you were like a foot tall," Maze snapped back.

"Vau's former cadets have had the highest survival rate of the commando groups," Jaster pointed out, almost gently. "Zho pulled up all sorts of statistics for the ten-year anniversary," he explained, at Obi-Wan's confused look.

"Maybe after Kamino," Nate said. "But how many of them died before we got out?"

"None," Jango said quietly. Everyone looked at him. "I'm not saying that their training was right, or okay," he said, eyeing Cody apologetically. "But... they survived." That was Vau's point. He'd argued that the training needed to be harsh to make sure the clones would survive anything the galaxy threw at them. Jango remembered that he and Skirata had almost come to blows over it several times over the years. 

"See!" Din said, "Their training was good! And I want the training to be tough. I want to work harder, so that I can get stronger."

"Din'ika," Aven said, "If you want a challenge, we can provide that in other ways. If Cody doesn't have enough time, we can-"

"Get karked," Cody growled, interrupting Aven. Before Jango could decide what to do about that brewing storm, Din caught their attention again.

"Buir's not doing anything wrong!" the teen exclaimed. "But nobody can teach everything, right? And- and I think it'd be better, I think I'd learn better, if it wasn't family, you know? That way I'd know for sure that he wasn't just being nice, or going easy on me, or- or coddling me or anything."

Cody looked stricken, and Maze muttered, "Oh, he definitely wouldn't coddle you."

"Okay, let's assume that Walon Vau would be a good trainer," Three-Five said. At Rex's fierce glare, he repeated, "Let's assume, okay?" Then he turned to Din. "And let's assume that Vau isn't the only good trainer available, alright?" Din scrunched his face stubbornly, and Three-Five stared him down. "Alright?" he asked again. Din nodded. "Okay, then let's consider the other factors. Yes, Din is right to want a trainer that fits his goals. And yes, Cody is right to protect his son. So let's just focus on some solutions that work for everyone, okay? Din, aside from Delta Squad's reputation, is there anything specific to Walon Vau that makes you want him to train you?"

Din still looked frustrated, but a little thoughtful too. "It was mostly knowing about Delta Squad," he admitted. Cody and Rex both opened their mouths, but Three-Five kept them silent with a look. Din wasn't done. "But when I spoke to him, he.... I don't know. It's like, even just in that conversation, it was like he expected me to do everything, say everything, perfectly. It was scary, and hard, but... I felt really good afterwards. Like, I knew that I'd for sure done the right thing, said the right things. I think all his training would be like that. Scary, and hard. But I'd be better afterwards."

Jango caught Jaster's eye across the table. 

"That could be true for other strict trainers," Three-Five said, but Din shook his head. 

"I've met other strict people," he said. "Ba'vodu Fox, "Ba'vodu Pre, Ba'vodu Seventeen, even some of the Jedi. But it was never like that."

Jango couldn't decide which was funnier - that Fox (who'd recently done an interview with some holo program where he started describing his favorite sex positions to the blushing host until the producer cut them off) was considered strict, or that Pre Vizsla was considered an uncle.

It seemed Cody and the others were trying to think of a counter-argument, and Din took advantage of the pause and turned to Jango.

"You understand, right Ba'buir? Tell them Walon Vau's a good trainer, that's why you chose him in the first place!"

Jango felt every muscle in his body tense as each clone in the room (barring Boba) suddenly turned sharp eyes on him. He refused to fidget, but would swear he could feel his palms start to sweat. Walon Vau was a good trainer. He was harsh, and Jango agreed with more than a little shame that he had been allowed to go to far on Kamino, given the age of his cadets, but under other circumstances Jango could have given a strong argument for Vau as a good option for Din. But he wasn't in other circumstances. He was in his circumstances. The ones created by his own past mistakes and crimes, for which he would never be truly absolved. And he could not sit here and tell his clones - his sons - that he in any way condoned the behavior they had so feared on Kamino.

Din's expression was intent, and Jango couldn't look away. Couldn't look at the expression on Cody, or Rex, or Aven's face. 

Thankfully, he had a riduur who knew all the best and worst of him, and loved him anyway. Obi-Wan placed a hand on Din's shoulder. 

"What if you just explained what skills in particular you wanted to be challenged on more? I think maybe you're worried that you're being let of lightly, but it's only because you're already making everyone so proud. But if Cody, or Jango, or anyone else training you, knew what you wanted to push harder on, I'm sure they could match that."

Din frowned, but took his eyes off Jango.

Nate sighed. "That wouldn't really work," he said, almost reluctantly. Cody shot him a glare. "Din'ika would be limited to only what he thought he needed to improve in. He'd end up with blind spots."

"Who's side are you on?" Rex argued.

"We're all on Din's side," Jaster said quickly. "We just have different ideas of what the best option for him is."

Three-Five spoke up, also trying to work towards a compromise, but Cody was getting frustrated with the circular arguments. Soon half the table was shouting at the other. Jango looked across the table to see Din sitting quietly, frowning down at his lap. Jango pushed his empty bowl a bit, which got Din's attention. Jango nodded towards the door, then quietly got up from the table. In all the arguing, nobody (except Obi-Wan, who said nothing) noticed the two of them leave the room.

"Do you think I'm wrong?" Din asked, as soon as they were clear. "Vau can't be evil like Buir says, otherwise you and Ba'buir Jaster wouldn't trust him, right?" Jango felt the shame rise up again, but he'd had years of practice at stomping it down.

He rest a hand on Din's shoulder. "It's complicated," he said honestly. "He's very good at what he does, but whether it was actually best for the people he trained is... somewhat up for debate." The volume from the dining room rose, and Jango smirked a bit. "Obviously."

"What should I do?" Din asked. And Jango knew that if he told Din to listen to his buir, and find another trainer, Din would do it. But - and Jango could never say this to Cody - he could see how Walon Vau would help Din reach levels that he just wouldn't elsewhere. And if that's what Din wanted - well, why wouldn't Jango want his bu'ad to reach his full potential?

He sighed. "You should call Seventeen."

Din blinked. "Ba'vodu Seventeen? Why?"

Jango gripped Din's shoulder. "I cannot win that argument for you, Din'ika," he said, nodding towards the dining room. "But Seventeen can."

Seventeen scowled at his comm. On principle, he didn't answer comms from his family while he was on a mission. He was working, they'd just have to get on without him for a few days.

But Din'ika never commed him. And after some quick mental math, he thought that Din should be in the middle of a family dinner. Why would he need to comm him during that? Unless something was wrong? Cody could have been hurt in a challenge, or Jaster was ill (he wasn't that old, but still), or Prime had done something stupid to set back his recovery, or-

"Sith's balls, just answer the comm," Jinn growled from where he was supposed to be meditating on the edge of camp.

"I thought you were supposed to be focusing on locating the kidnappers?" Seventeen asked, defensive. They'd been trying to track the kindappers in this forest for a week without success, and their (already, admittedly, short) tempers were growing thin.

"I am, but I cannot focus on anything with your anxiety in the way. It would be quicker to simply answer the comm and relieve your worries so we can get back to work," the Jedi said, eyes still closed.

Seventeen sighed, and stood up. "I'll walk down to the river," he said. "Sorry for the disruption."

Jinn sighed, but didn't say anything more, so Seventeen walked a few yards down the hill from their camp to the river's edge. Then, he answered Din's comm.

"What's wrong?" he asked in greeting.

"Ba'vodu Seventeen!" Din said, sounding relieved. "I need your help!"

"What happened, Din'ika?" he asked, focused on sounding calm and confident.

"I asked Walon Vau to train me, but he said I needed the clan's blessing, and Buir doesn't want to give it," Din said in a rush. "Now all the ba'vodu'e are fighting about it, and Ba'buir said you could help win them over to my side."

Seventeen blinked, and and looked around, as if to find a witness to this madness. "You called me because you and Cody are having a fight?" he asked, incredulous.

"He's worried that I'll get hurt, since Vau was so harsh with Delta Squad, but I've already passed my verd'goten. And I think Vau's training would make me the type of warrior I want to be!"

Seventeen rubbed his hand across his face. He'd watched Delta Squad grow up, they were only a few months younger than the Alphas. He'd seen what Walon Vau's training was like. And he saw how effective it was. If Din wanted to push himself to that level - well, who was Seventeen to slow him down? And, despite everything Vau had done, Seventeen knew that most of Delta Squad still lived in Kyrimorut with him. They wouldn't still be there if he was just a demagolka like Priest or Reau. 

"Is anyone on your side?" he asked Din.

"Ba'buir is, but he said he can't argue for me, 'cause of the Kamino stuff," Din said. That figured. "And I think maybe Ba'vodu Nate and Ba'vodu Boba, and Ba'buir Jaster. Hard to tell with Ba'vodu Three-Five and Ba'buir Obi-wan. But Buir and Ba'vodu Rex are definitely against it, and Ba'vodu Maze and Ba'vodu Aven seem to be siding with them."

Seventeen sighed. "They're just worried about Vau?" he asked. "They don't seem hung up on the distance?"

"No, I think it's just Vau," Din said, starting to sound hopeful. "Will you help?"

"Yeah," Seventeen said. "Go hand the comm off to Cody."

Cody was confused when Din and Prime re-entered the dining room, only for Din to walk up to him and hand him a comm.

"It's Ba'vodu Seventeen," Din said. "He wants to talk to you." Aven, Three-Five, and Jaster quieted down, interested.

Figures, even halfway across the galaxy that nosy shabuir would find his way to butt in to this. Feeling vindictive, Cody put the comm on speaker mode. 

"What?" Cody said in greeting.

"Are you getting in the way of this because you're weak, or because you're a coward?" Seventeen asked, blunt as always. Cody felt his blood pressure spike. Across the table, Maze's eyes were wide.

"Excuse me?" he demanded.

"Those are the only explanations I can think of," Seventeen said blandly. "Either you - the Mand'alor - are too weak to make one old man be nice to your kid, or you're a hut'uun who's so scared of taking any risk that you're willing to stunt your kid's growth to keep him safe at your side."

Cody's fist clenched, and Rex tried to subtly scoot his chair away from him. "I am going to punch you in the face," he growled.

"Sure, Cody, come fly all the way to the backwater moon I'm on and punch me in the face. That's much better than just working with your son." Seventeen's voice was dry, and unimpressed. "You're not just one cadet in a million up against a big bad trainer, di'kut," Seventeen continued. "You're the Mand'alor, and he's sworn an oath to you. Din'ika wants harsher training - we've had our own harsh training, and you're a liar if you think it didn't make a difference. Take him to Kyri'morut, tell Vau that you'll put his head on a spike on the Keldabe city walls if he steps out of line, and move on."

Cody stared at the comm, refusing to look at anyone else. Notably, nobody spoke up to argue with Seventeen. Not even Rex. And that's how Cody knew he'd lost this fight. And Seventeen was right, in his rude way. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Cody did still see Vau - even more so than the other trainers, maybe because he saw him so rarely - as an authority figure. Someone he couldn't confront. But that wasn't true anymore.

"Kriff, send Rex to supervise the whole thing if it makes you feel any better, it's not like he has anything better to do," Seventeen added. Cody glanced at Rex out of the corner of his eyes. The blonde grimaced, but reluctantly nodded in agreement. Behind him, Din was standing stiff, fists clenched at his sides, determination on his face and hope in his eyes, and Cody was scared but he was not a coward.

"Okay," he said. 

"Great," Seventeen said. "I gotta go, Jinn just went running downriver like a mynock out of an exogorth." And without any further discussion, the comm cut off.

"Do you mean it, Buir?" Din asked.

Cody stood and faced his son, reaching out a hand to grasp where his neck met his shoulder. He didn't have to reach that far down anymore. Din was getting taller, growing up. He squeezed. "I mean it, Din'ika," he said. Din's face split into a grin, and he lurched forward to hug him.

"Vor'e, vor'e, thank you!" he said.

"We're going to set some ground rules, though," Cody said, before he totally lost control of the situation.

"That's fine!" Din said. "This is so wizard, I'm going to go comm Omega!" and he dashed out of the room, Han hot on his heels.

Cody plopped back down into his seat. His family was watching him, faces proud or amused or resigned.

"I want a drink," he said.

Maze got up to get some bottles from the kitchen, and Nate swore.

"Kark, we were supposed to meet Tavo and Sull and hour ago!"