Private revenge of the gnomes strike back

[Din Djarin]

January 3rd, Y110
@Luke Skywalker​

It started off as a simple job to pass the time: convoy to a caravan of weary travelers and their recreational vehicles making their way from Lethe toward (what they presumed to be) greener pastures, topped with an obscenely fussy merchant who distrusted the concept of portals. Despite the unpredictability of the Dusk Forests, it was the type of gig where he felt comfortable letting Grogu tag along for the ride, with the kid ever eager to stick to his shadow during the few take-your-kid-to-work days they could responsibly manage.

Life was different from before, albeit only slightly. They had Jedi daycare to juggle into their schedules now, but the Mandalorian could think of no better compromise than the one they settled upon.

Trouble only stirred when the sun began to set on the second day of their trek. Preempted by a rumbling of pounding drums resounding off the powdery snow. Din produced his scope, squinting through the veil of pine and caught glimpse of the first signs of... a row of pink flamingos? Marching their way through the wintry wood, all around them, encircling then, without any indication of stopping

"Stay inside the transport," he instructed their caravan (and to the green baby attempting to peek through the binoculars), hoisting himself onto the roof of the nearest RV for a better vantage point. He positioned his disruptor rifle, and waited for his moment to strike.

 

[Luke Skywalker]

Oh, how could he have let this happen again!?

Luke was being marched in the middle of a row of miniscule “foot soldiers”, their sharpened fishing poles pricking the base of his back whenever he showed a hint of hesitation. His hands had been forced out in front of him, a pair of binders digging into the soft flesh of his wrists. The wet patch on his brow was beginning to freeze in the bitter air. His head hurt.

He towered above everyone else (which was sure a rarity), but he didn’t dare try to run… At least not yet. Last time he’d tried that in the cold, he’d nearly died of hypothermia and Han had stuffed him in the stinking guts of a dead animal! Luke was already shivering violently in his yellow jacket and brown pants, the hard chattering of his teeth deafening inside his skull.

No… He couldn’t run yet… He had to cling on to his rapidly shrinking patience until the right opportunity peeked above the thick snow. Perhaps they would encounter travellers on snorting mounts, a camp with a crackling fire or a small town…

Luke sure wasn’t expecting his potential salvation to come in the form of a number of crude looking wheeled transports, glinting through the snow and spindly trees. He thought he saw a shiny metal figure atop one of ‘em, but he was still too far away to make out any of the finer details.

It didn’t really matter. He would still pick the unknown over his tiny, beatifically smiling slavers. Anything must’ve been better than painting their mushroom houses or chipping bird baths from blocks of stone.

Luke broke out of the line of marching slavers and charged at the gleaming transports. He stumbled in his black boots over the crunchy, uneven iron of the ground, his balance all screwed up ‘cos of his bound hands. A confusion of shrill shouts and shrieks erupted behind him.

 

[Din Djarin]

Din's lips furled into a thin frown as he peered through the scope. A prisoner donning bright yellow standing amidst the battalion of diminutive warriors had zoomed into focus, by all accounts a young man — more boy than man, and ... familiar.

Grogu shimmied closer toward the edge of the vehicle with interest as the prisoner burst into a desperate stumble of a sprint, before turning his gaze back to Din with large, brown, inquiring eyes. Help him, he seemed to implore.

Well, it wasn't as if he had high hopes of parlaying with these rascals anyway. He spotted one of them on the cusp of lifting a crude weapon, some kind of bow and arrow contraption. The Mandalorian fired off a shot into the gnome's center of mass, blasting both rider and flamingo into the company behind him like a heavy ball against an array of flimsy pins.

There were more of them, but his firepower was far more potent, and he had the advantage of the RV rooftop's higher ground. Covering for the runner was the least he could manage.

And when the young man tottered close enough, Din stretched out a gauntleted arm so that he could hoist him up.

"Who are they? What do they want?" he questioned distractedly, resuming his shots off the rooftop against the swarm of tiny soldiers.

 

[Luke Skywalker]

The deep throated blast caused Luke to cringe and duck low as though he’d been the target. A shrill squeal behind told him otherwise. The shiny silver figure atop the crude transport must’ve been covering him as he stumble dashed through the cold hardened woods!

Hope bloomed inside him, bright and warm like sunlight on snow. Whoever owned those odd land based transports was friendly! Luke was saved if only he could reach ‘em!

He willed more of the Force to flow through his leg muscles and he put on an impressive burst of speed, which took him stagger sailing up to what seemed like the lead transport. With the shiny figure’s help, he clambered up on top of the transport with them… Him, judging by the voice that crackled out of the helmet.

“Slavers!” Luke choked out the word, his voice distorted from exertion - and the fact that he’d fallen on his back. “They roam the Dread Wastes, capturing people and making them do terrible things!”

Yeeaah, he wasn’t gonna elaborate on those terrible things ‘cos then he’d look like a total moron. It was embarrassing enough that the shiny metal man had witnessed him running from a race of people that were no taller than his shins.

To pile on the indignity, he discovered that it was an awkward struggle to get up when his hands were bound in front of him. He wound up having to roll on his front, then levering himself up into a sitting position with his elbows.

Luke got his first proper look at his rescuer and a sense of familiarity tugged at the edges of his mind. He’d seen that armor before! It looked an awful lot like Boba Fett’s, except new and… Clean. But Luke was pretty sure he didn’t find shiny guy’s armor familiar just ‘cos it looked like Boba Fett’s. He’d seen this exact same armor somewhere in his past… Or given his age, didn’t that make it somewhere in his future?

“I know you,” he said quietly, staring at shiny guy with wide and curious eyes.