The Memories of a Father

A sole starfighter smoothly touched down on the grey-brown surface of Mandalore, the expert landing cycle a testament to the skills of its primary pilot. The billowing clouds of earth and sand eventually settled, blanketing the small vessel in its entirety. The ship hissed as it powered down, the cockpit canopy slowly rising, opening. Though it was clear to move, the helmeted pilot merely sat on the seat for a few moments, still in contemplation. As tumultuous feelings threatened to seep into him, he closed his eyes, feeling the Force as he cleared his mind.

He turned to the blue and white astromech droid that was perched patiently on the wing to his left. "I'll be back, R2. Just wait here."

The droid flashed and chittered in reply.

The pilot knocked on the durasteel door of the modest home. The shelter, boasting a fusion of steel and stone, was at the center of a bucolic setting; a testament to the advancements of the Mandalorian people, but also indicative of the man who it housed. It emanated an aura of serenity. A feeling of hope that the peace upon the planet would remain unbroken.

The pilot waited patiently for a few more moments, listening with intent. He didn't receive an answer. However, given the times that he had visited the planet over the years, he knew precisely where to go next.

He set off on foot, true north, his shadow dancing upon the ground as the sun began to gradually set. Fallen leaves crunched beneath his booted feet as he progressed, knowing the winding path by heart. As he drew closer to the destination, the light sounds of a running brook graced his ears. He wasn't far now.

A sole being sat upon the bank, a lone headstone keeping him company at his side. His long, white hair tousled delicately in the wind, framing his comely countenance.

He seemed...tired.

"Hey, kid," the deep voice called out. Din twisted his head as the footsteps neared, a small smile gracing his wrinkled face. "Long time."

Grogu removed his helmet, his large, green ears extending from the sides of his head. Back at the Jedi Temple and here on Mandalore, it had always been one of his most endearing qualities growing up.

A pang of guilt surged through Grogu at the sight of his father. He regretted not coming home more often. Over the years, he should have come home more often. To spend time with his parents. To let them know that he was alright.

But the path that he had chosen - and the paths that his parents had chosen - had put service, duty, and honour over the considerations of self and family. Their familial life was far from normal to begin with. Then, the villainy that ravaged the galaxy over the years had kept them all busy.

Grogu approached with steady steps and took a seat beside Din, crossing his legs and resting his arms upon his thighs in an almost meditative pose. Though he forced a smile, he felt unsettled. "I miss mom," he admitted, fondly eyeing the headstone at their side.

"I do, too." Din put a hand on Grogu's armoured shoulder, always pleased to see the Mudhorn signet upon his pauldron. It reminded him of his son's oath. Of his loyalty to the clan. "I'm glad you're home."

Grogu's eyes fell to the whispering waters before them, silently watching the fish floating by. He tucked his knees closer to his torso, encircling his arms around his legs. A sigh escaped his lips. "You know...I still think about what happened on Gideon's ship all those years ago."

This garnered Din's attention. He eyed Grogu in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Whether I had made the right decision to go with Skywalker."