Outside the warehouse, the firefight continued as civilians ran desperately seeking safety. One particular family fled to the left to avoid the explosions erupting around them.
"They're coming!" the mother cried, clutching her frightened son.
The father could only look ahead, guiding those he loved most. "I know, but we have to—"
BOOM!
The parents were thrown down by a nearby explosion. They picked themselves up and headed for the shelter of their home, while many of their neighbors either fled or lay dead in the streets.
They soon reached their house and the father opened the door to their underground bunker. The mother looked back and saw several Death Watch members approaching them. The father saw this as well and realized what had to be done.
"Stay here, son. You'll be safe," the father said, placing him in the bunker.
"But—"
"I'm sorry, but this is for your own good," the boy's mother said as she quickly sealed the door. "We love you. Never forget that."
"Come on, you oversized scrap heap!" Saxon gritted his teeth, doing his best to keep the ancient war droid stable as it rampaged around the warehouse, firing at any Death Watch member that came into its targeting systems.
While it was holding together, it was clear that Kal had been right—this Basilisk needed serious maintenance and recalibration. However, despite this, the droid proved to be both devastatingly effective in terms of firepower and absolutely terrifying to the Death Watch Mandalorians.
They shot at it, albeit hesitantly. No one seemed eager to be on the receiving end of this mechanical behemoth.
"Saxon!"
He looked back and saw Tobbi flying overhead.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Trying to get this overgrown machine to work properly!" Saxon yelled, attempting to steer the droid away from civilian structures.
"What does the journal say?"
"I can barely remember it right now!"
"How can you not remember something like this now?"
"Tobbi, now is really not the time!"
"Both of you shut up!"
They both spotted a Death Watch member flying past, with Fennec in hot pursuit, pausing next to them momentarily.
"We need to drive these fanatics out now," Fennec said. "They're wreaking havoc throughout the entire village."
"We can do this," Saxon declared, now frantically working the droid's control panel. "If only this thing would cooperate!"
The Basilisk war droid suddenly reared up on its hind legs and tail, letting out a thunderous mechanical roar, then dropped down on its front limbs and began charging forward toward a group of Death Watch warriors.
They all saw the war droid bearing down on them, their eyes nearly bulging from their skulls at what was about to happen.
Their brief moment of shock was their downfall, as the war droid's cannons obliterated them, the massive machine landing heavily before moving on to its next target.
Meanwhile, with Spar and Pre Vizsla locked in aerial combat, Spar landed a solid kick to Vizsla's chest, sending him tumbling through the air.
Pre straightened and glared at the clone Mandalore with pure hatred.
"Vizsla," Gar's voice crackled over the comms. "We're suffering heavy casualties. Half our forces are down."
Pre growled beneath his helmet, looking toward Spar, who was hovering before him with weapons raised.
Reluctantly, he knew what he had to do. There were more pressing matters to attend to in the coming days—matters concerning their stronghold on Mandalore itself.
"Retreat!" he commanded.
Searching through the devastated village, the Protectors helped locate survivors. So far, there were more dead than alive, which was infuriating to witness.
"How did it come to this?" Tobbi asked despondently.
"Nothing is sacred to Death Watch," Spar said in an angry tone. "All they care about is their twisted return to the old ways."
"Is this the old way?" Tobbi said with disgust.
Spar remained silent, simply patted Tobbi on the shoulder and went to assist his followers in helping the villagers.
Fennec walked alone among the ruins of the settlement, a mournful expression on her face. This had been an unnecessary battle. So many people had died, all because of the damned infighting between Mandalorians.
Shaking her head, she continued trudging through the debris, helping those she could.
She eventually came across a home and grimaced at the sight of a married couple lying near the entrance to a bunker. Moving closer, she gently moved them aside and laid them out respectfully. As she did so, she heard muffled crying coming from within.
Fennec grasped the door handle and opened the bunker to see a small boy cowering inside. The child was huddled up, wearing a red shirt that covered most of his face.
"Hey, it's alright. The fighting's over," Fennec said softly.
The boy startled at the sound, glanced at Fennec, then quickly turned away.
As Fennec started to enter, the boy crawled backward in fear.
"I'm not here to hurt you, I promise. Please trust me."
To emphasize her point, Fennec set down her helmet and pushed her blaster away from herself, then raised her hands.
"Look, I won't hurt you," Fennec said with a gentle smile.
The child blinked and faced the Mandalorian warrior.
Fennec extended her hand for the boy to take, and he hesitantly reached out to her.
Above ground, another Protector came to help move the many bodies for proper burial. He soon spotted Fennec carrying a child in her arms, the boy clearly in shock.
"Who's that you're carrying, Fennec?"
"An orphan. A foundling, perhaps."
"Does he have a name?"
Before Fennec could respond, the boy said weakly, "My name is Din Djarin."
"There you go," Fennec said, letting the child settle more comfortably in her arms. The child smiled slightly at the gesture, which then faded back to sadness.
Fennec followed his gaze and looked at what had caught the boy's attention. The married couple she'd found were positioned near the bunker door where Din had been hiding.
Fennec sighed and set the child down, and the boy walked over to his parents.
"Don't worry, Din. We'll give your parents a proper burial," Fennec promised, placing a comforting hand on top of the boy's head.
Din just sniffled, tears streaming down his cheeks. Fennec crouched down wordlessly and put her arm around Din's shoulders, and the boy responded by hugging her tightly.
"It's going to be okay, kid. I've got you."
On Spar's side, he stood with Kal, Tobbi, and Alrich.
"What are our losses?" Spar asked grimly.
"Too many, Mandalore," Tobbi replied, though he was more concerned with the fallen villagers than with the Protectors. They had lost no more than a dozen warriors.
However, the people of this settlement...
"Hasn't it always been this way?" Spar said in a weary tone.
"Mandalore."
Spar looked back and saw Fennec approaching with a small boy in her arms.
"Fennec," Spar acknowledged. "Who's that?"
"A foundling," Fennec answered. "His name is Din Djarin."
Spar simply nodded in understanding.
"This is the Way," Spar said quietly, and Fennec nodded.
The Protector returned to her duties. When she was far enough away, Spar answered an incoming transmission. Boba Fett's holographic form appeared before him.
Spar blinked in slight surprise. "Hello, Boba. What do you need?"
"I... thought about it, Spar. And... I've considered your proposal."
"And?"
Boba frowned slightly and lowered his head, then looked up at Spar with a determined expression.
"I want to come home."
"I see," Spar said with satisfaction. "When do you think you'll be returning?"
Young Fett crossed his arms, deep in thought. "I have some things to handle first, but hopefully soon."
"That's what I wanted to hear, Boba," Spar said with a slight smile. "We'll await your call."
Today's victory was bittersweet, in more ways than one. He had acquired several valuable assets—Kal's expertise and loyalty, a potential new world under his protection, and a somewhat functional Basilisk war droid. However, there had been far too much death here today.
Hopefully things would change in the future so his people could return to their former glory without all the senseless bloodshed.
"Let's pack up," Spar called out. "We're going home."
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