The Foundling

Chapter 1: Ord Sigatt

The Razor Crest hurtled through hyperspace, a cocoon amid the endless stream of blue lights. It was cold out there. And somehow, within the cockpit and a full suit of beskar armor, Din Djarin felt chilled. He sat at the helm, struggling to stay awake. It wasn't long before they'd approach the exit. In the back seat, the child was snoring softly in a padded box Din had found for him. Tiny tufts of hair on his little green head waved just slightly in the air from the ventilation system. The kid had slept almost the whole way, wrapped in a bantha wool blanket, clutching the mythosaur skull pendant in his tiny claws and getting slobber on it. Once in a while, his big green ears lifted slightly as he dreamed. Apparently, he'd used up all his adrenaline for the day, too.

Din worried. One of these times the kid was going to really overdo it. But if he'd held back, he and Din and their companions would all be dead.

Din could still smell the burning wreckage of the cantina and feel the heat against his face. The back of his head throbbed from the blaster wound and getting knocked too hard in the explosion. The bacta had left some healing for him to do on his own. But he couldn't let any of that bother him right now. He needed to keep his head clear. There were things to do once they landed. They needed information.

The navicomputer blipped, indicating they were coming up on the exit. Din started the procedure, preparing to drop out of hyperspace. It was strange going through the routine, almost like it wasn't him doing the motions. He should've been dead.

The image of helmets piled on the floor of the underground tunnel came back to him. They were the lifeless remains of the ones who'd worn them, his tribesmen and women, among the last of their kind. Din had been left behind again. He could never understand why.

There was no telling if he'd last long. If he got killed, no one would know. No one would be there to protect the child. He would have felt easier if Cara had come along, or the armorer. But they were probably safer where they were. Din needed to find out about these Jedi, whether they would take care of the kid once he handed him over to them.

The blurred lights outside shredded into threads, then resolved into stars as Din switched from the hyperdrive to the sublight thrusters. The pressure changed, making his head spin, and the half-healed wound gave him a spike of pain. He gritted through it.

Just ahead now, the rocky mining world of Ord Sigatt loomed. A few ships passed back and forth, the departing ones disappearing into hyperspace. It was a risk coming to this busy port, a last stop on the edge of the Outer Rim. There was no telling if Gideon's hunters had gotten word their client was dead. They'd still be tracking down the kid. Going into public just made their job easier. But Din knew he could find some informants here. He would be sure to keep his sensors open.

For a minute, Din considered circling around the night side of the planet first, to make it look like he was a local flying home. But even a local would probably stop to top off fuel. Better not to draw attention by deviating.

The planet gradually filled his view, and the dusty, ridged surface began taking on clarity as the Razor Crest dipped into the atmosphere. The port was close to the edge of the planet's day side. That was good. As night fell, they'd draw less attention.

The Razor Crest circled around as the port came into view, a cluster of gray buildings barely distinguishable from the dusted, rocky landscape. Din checked in with the tower for an empty fuel stall, then set course and finished the descent. Dust billowed as he came in over the edge of the hangar wall and landed. The engines wailed as they cooled. All switches off.

Din got up and reached for his rifle. Then he paused. He had a jetpack now. He grabbed it and clamped it on. It was heavy, and as before, pulled uncomfortably on his injury. But he'd managed, and it would come in handy if he got in a bind. He adjusted the strap of his rifle and slung it on.