A Star Wars Side-Blog

Almost every good, effective story is going to have two climaxes, one physical and one emotional. The physical climax is the culmination of the action and biggest sequence of events in the finale of Act III, resolving the main plot. The emotional climax usually involves character relationships and development, as well as the end result of characters’ personal arcs and unspoken objectives. Ideally any main or supporting character connects to that main plot in some way.

In the case of “Sanctuary,” Mando wants to find somewhere safe for himself and the child to lay low. He finds a sparsely populated location in the middle of nowhere and plans to settle into a simple life for a few months, avoiding attention and keeping the child safe. The physical obstacle is that the place offering them food and lodging would be literally perfect, if he can resolve the village’s bandit problem. Once completed, he’ll be able to establish his temporary (?) home.

Sorgan represents everything Mando wants: in a perfect world, Din would be able to live somewhere comfortable away from prying eyes, a place not just safe for himself and the child he’s taken under his wing but for the people around them. He wants to be happily settled down and connected to a community that cares for everybody involved. He wants a simple life where he is free from the worry, strife, and danger that comes with being a persecuted ethnic minority and refugee of war, living life on the move doing a dangerous job that not only puts the kid at risk by association, but makes them dependent on an unsteady income and unpredictable life devoid of the comfort and routine small children generally need.

(Ideally he wants that life with other Mandalorians, but he knows his people are especially targeted when there are several of them concentrated in one area; the genocide enacted by the Empire wiped out thousands of their people. Most of them already live nomadic lives because of that, and it’s easier to hide when there aren’t as many of you drawing attention. Their secrecy is their survival and it’s why they’ve been able to continue their way of life.)

Everything Din wants from Sorgan is safety and stability, which means safety and stability for the village, but it’s not the story’s job to give the main character what they want, especially in an episodic media format.

In order to raise the stakes to the most dire it could be for all of the characters involved and tie the final fight to Din’s emotional desires, I think the fight had to have been brought into the village proper. Have the bandits break through the defensive line and have the main characters (Mando, Cara, and Omera) see them heading into the village with torches in hand—

— Where we cut to all of the children hiding together in one of the huts, defenseless.

Now Mando has to choose between breaking ranks with Cara, which would allow him to save his own child and possibly others, but would consequently allow the Walker to come through and lay waste to the rest of the village, or he has to stand his ground knowing he can defeat the Walker and save the greatest amount of people, but with his own child’s life possibly forfeit in the end.

A village can be rebuilt. Farms can be reseeded. The adults all chose to fight and knew what they were getting into and have a much better chance of withstanding or recovering from the present danger, but the kids have no choice in being there and because they are vulnerable and irreplaceable, they are the best representation of the emotional stakes at the center of the story. There needed to be more focus put on the bandits who break through with the intent of attacking what the adults actually hold the most dear, making the raiders an emotional threat, not just a physical one.

This ending parallels the cold open where Omera rushes through laserfire and explosions to save her own daughter and it would have provided a stronger conclusion for her story. Omera represents the locals and she’s the one we follow through Mando’s story as a liaison for the village. It’s her we see in the opening, it’s her showing hospitality to the people she hopes will help save them, and it’s her stepping up as a leader when they refuse to uproot and insist on staying to fight.

This episode should have been as much about her as it was about Mando and Cara, but as it stands in canon, we get no final focus or significant closure with Omera concerning the physical plot. She’s part of the emotional arc we see Mando take over the course of the episode, but without giving her a larger role than any of the other villagers in the final fight with the bandits, the raiders feel like they’re only a faceless physical threat without personal significance to the people. We don’t get to hear what Omera thinks as somebody who’s implied to be familiar with fighting and who is not originally from that village, or possibly even Sorgan at all.

The raiders and the Walker feel like they’re only obstacles in the way of Mando’s physical and emotional objectives. It makes Omera feel like she’s the reward the hero gets at the end of the story, which does her character a disservice (especially as a woman of color) when she was given a history and characteristics independent of him before he even arrived to face the conflict. The antagonists are her antagonists. The biggest physical threats are personal to her and her village. Mando and Cara can pick up and leave at any time, but she makes it clear they don’t have that option.

Omera knows this town like the back of her hand. She’s a capable marksman and it’s implied that she’s an experienced fighter. She takes initiative and she’s courageous and capable in the face of danger as she runs towards the bandits instead of away when her daughter is at risk. She’s smart, consistently observant, keeps a level head, and demonstrates a willing ability to lead, shouting for Caben and Stoke to hold their positions in the final fight.

The final sequence should have shown Cara, Mando, and Omera all seeing the bandits break through an opening in the defenses and head for the undefended homes in the village, and the three of them having to react in real time to the unforeseen complication and rely on each other as a response. What follows happens concurrently, the camera cutting between the two fights as it builds:

Mando and Omera, both parents/guardians of children now at risk, are both going to hone in on the threat to the kids in the village center. Omera makes the run back towards the bandits herself, rifle in hand. Mando watches her, needing to trust that she knows what she’s doing and can not only handle herself, but is capable of saving the kids too. He’s going to resist his natural impulse to go save the kids not just because he knows she can fight, but because she’s going to do it better than he could in the dark on terrain that is familiar and specific to her

Omera has to trust that Mando and Cara are going to have her and the village’s backs by not breaking ranks (even though Mando’s own kid is at risk) and will instead take down the Walker as promised since that is where their abilities lie.

Cara’s a soldier and her focus is going to remain on the AT-ST. She’s going to make the same run for the Walker with the rifle to keep it distracted and has to trust that Mando will stand his ground and have her back when the time comes for him to land the final blow with the thermal charge

Back in the village, we see Omera using her knowledge of the terrain and resources to her advantage, shooting and improvising weapons as she fights multiple raiders at once and succeeds. She narrowly stops the last one closest to the hut with the kids, and we see Omera and the others from Winta’s vantage point as Omera kills the raiders carrying torches and sends them into the ponds. Omera looks up to the window with Winta to affirm that the kids are safe, and then she rejoins the fight.

The focus of the episode is on community and relying on others, and it wouldn’t have added all that much more runtime to the episode if it had given those few short moments to Omera’s character, making the narrative stronger by strengthening her part in the story. Making the raiders more of a threat to the kids keeps the tension high all the way to the end.

This sets up the emotional significance of the armor not just for the episode but for the season. The armor isn’t just physical protection but a representation of who the wearer is. The tenet of keeping the helmet on is one Din follows religiously, and hearing someone either admit to stripping Mandalorians of it for their personal gain or seeing someone wearing it in a way that defies a customary understanding of its cultural and/or religious importance is a grave insult to Din on a personal level. It’s not just culturally important as a ritual, but it provides protection and anonymity too, so somebody taking that from a Mandalorian who chooses to wear it every day is also disrespectful and harmful on a practical level. The armor of others being given to its ancestral owners is a show of respect and honor towards the deceased warriors who wore it in life, setting up for the audience again that Mandalorian culture is just as important to Din as caring for the child is.

Sidebar: Canon itself isn’t clear this season on what Din himself considers the long term consequences of removing the helmet to be: Does removing it or having it removed mean he believes he has lost his soul’s place in the religious afterlife the Mandalorians believe in (which is what supplemental Star Wars materials says it is), or is it synonymous to rejecting Mandalorians as a culture, meaning he has lost his identity and place within the community and family that raised him? Is it both? Because if the Armorer’s decree in TBoBF means he has no place in the tribe anymore because he removed his helmet, she logically shouldn’t have allowed Din to keep either the armor or the Darksaber. If outsiders aren’t permitted to have beskar or armor in the style of the Mandalorians, one of the consequences of removing one’s helmet should have been relinquishing all of it to the Mandalorians.

We never get enough discussion from Din or the Armorer as to what the actual physical consequences are, and I think the writers not putting enough thought into the meaning behind custom and ritual leaves too much ambiguity for them to meaningfully explore Din’s personal journey regarding his faith with any specificity to his character. (This is besides the fact these two characters never have a discussion regarding the circumstances under which Din was forced to remove his helmet but I digress.)

My interpretation (and what I think makes the most sense based on what we see of Din in Season 1 and parts of 2) is that the Mandalorians of Din’s branch of faith believe the armor is seen as equivalent to their body, so to forcibly remove a Mandalorian’s helmet/armor is equivalent to killing them (since the offender’s intention is usually to harm or kill them anyway), cutting off their connection to the Mandalorian afterlife and symbolically, forcibly removing them from their culture/people. The helmet provides anonymity so forcibly removing it puts them at risk now that outsiders have a more specific identity they can put a name to, endangering the Mandalorian/s and anybody close to them by association.

Furthermore, if a Mandalorian removes their own helmet outside of the shared privacy of their family or tribe, that is seen as both a purposeful action that puts their tribe at risk and it symbolizes a conscious choice to reject or renounce the Mandoade as a culture and religion, which would be what defines them as an apostate/outsider who should not possess the benefits and customs (armor) belonging to Mandalorians, same as if they were anyone else.

Those three points give more solid parameters for inner and external conflict when it comes to specific cases where a Mandalorian is forced to expose themselves against their will like Din does in “The Believer”; in an ideal world Din would have never been forced into that situation because in an ideal world, his child wouldn’t have been kidnapped and experimented on by enemies in the first place. That provides a framework for Din to operate in and make conscious decisions about himself and his opinions of others, regarding the helmet’s removal.

It’s obvious to us that Din associates faithful Mandalorians (those who respect the culture and individuals he belongs to) with those who keep their helmets on. To that end, we should have seen a much angrier and more volatile Mando responding to the marshal removing his helmet on Tatooine and openly admitting he wasn’t a Mandalorian: Din is fresh off of his run-in with Gor Koresh and has come face to face (so to speak) with somebody who may very well be the exact kind of person Koresh was. The only exception is that the marshal is wearing the armor of a dead Mandalorian himself; we’re given a pretty clear understanding that no Mandalorian would part with their armor unless they were dead and/or unable to stop it from happening. Mando’s logical train of thought should have been “Who did this man kill and desecrate in death, or who/where did he steal the armor from?” It’s not just the stolen reputation that accompanies the armor, it’s the idea that one of his countrymen is dead and somebody else is essentially wearing their skin.

Additionally, the marshal stating that he’s not a Mandalorian confirms that Mando has hit a dead end that he wouldn’t have had to waste time tracking down and coming to if there weren’t rumors of a Mandalorian in Mos Pelgo to begin with (despite Boba Fett likely being the part of if not the source of those rumors; he allegedly died years ago though and Koresh specifically said the Mando he knew of was in Mos Pelgo). Cobb Vanth was Mando’s last lead on finding somebody who could help him.

Mando may have a long fuse, but the two things most important to him are his culture and the kid, and at that moment in time the marshal was disrespecting one and (however unaware) obstructing Mando’s means of caring for the other. That isn’t to dismiss the fact the marshal has a legitimate reason to use the armor, but that point should have just made their conflict more complicated moving forward if the armor had stayed as a point of contention between them for longer.

So considering all of that as the context for Mando’s arrival in Mos Pelgo, Vanth and Mando are on good terms far too quickly in canon. The writers had Vanth voluntarily offer to give Mando the armor on completion of a job in their second scene together at the beginning after not delivering on the setup of the earlier conflict between them, which closes off any tension to their partnership moving forward. If they’re already on good terms, there’s no tension to the stakes surrounding the armor itself. The animosity/uneasy alliance between them should have lasted all the way up until the end of the episode after the Krayt dragon was defeated since that job was what Mando’s retrieval of the armor was contingent on.

In order to legitimize that conflict between them there had to be more of a physical obstacle on a personal level standing between Mando and the marshal. Mando’s perfectly within his culture’s rights to kill Vanth and forcibly reclaim the armor if he’s able. The Krayt dragon obstacle isn’t compelling on its own without Vanth being more of an antagonist and let’s be real, even if the marshal is as good a gunslinger as Mando, Cobb Vanth wouldn’t hold up against Mando in a close-quarters physical fight. Mando shouldn’t HAVE to do a job to reclaim what rightfully belongs to his people. If Vanth did stand as more of a physical threat, that conflict keeps Mando from the established emotional desire of the episode.

So there’s a few things that need to be established for the plot to largely stay the same: we need to see Vanth as a believable obstacle between Mando and the armor, Vanth still deserves to be his own character with reasonable resistance to Mando’s claim, but who’s still able to be reasoned with, and Mando needs to be the one to offer his aid in exchange.

The way to establish the tension and balance the physical conflict between Mando and Vanth, while still appealing to Mando’s emotional side to stay and help the people of Mos Pelgo, is really easy: have Mando closer to the table when the marshal removes his helmet in the saloon, Mando and Vanth square off and Mando gives him one chance (same way he gives everybody at least one chance) to hand the armor over of his own volition or he’ll peel it off the marshal’s corpse, and when Cobb refuses, Mando decks him.

Like I said, Mando should have been livid in this encounter, and we as the audience get to see a full saloon brawl instead of just the initiated standoff (keeping in line with the western motifs of the episode), and when the fight spills out into the street it’s clear that Din has the upper hand.

Until the ground starts to shake.

Cobb Vanth shoves Mando off, having the advantage of knowing what’s going on while Din is caught off guard, but instead of continuing the fight or focusing on the Mandalorian at all, we see Cobb Vanth run down the street as the Krayt dragon gains on him and the civilian caught in its path. Mando recovers and scrambles up onto the ledge himself, seeing the dragon pass beneath the sand, and it’s then he sees the marshal grab the civilian and use the jetpack to get both of them to safety in the nick of time. The dragon eats a bantha, showing Mando the scope of the danger he, the marshal, and the townsfolk only narrowly escaped, and Mando sees that in a moment of initiative, selflessness, duty, and quick thinking, the marshal used the armor to protect and save the people under his care.

It’s a moment that stays Din’s hand and settles some of that previous anger and allows him to see the kind of person the marshal is— somebody who protects his community and who is able to protect his community because he uses Mandalorian armor (one of the core tenets Mandalorians follow themselves)— and it gives the narrative the right opening for Mando to offer to help the town and the marshal, in exchange for the armor. Din and the marshal come to an uneasy truce, and Mando pursuing the transaction keeps Vanth’s character realistic by not having to be the first to concede to a deal right after a fight where Mando was the instigator, and it means he can still function as an antagonist who has the upper hand in that respect until their resolution at the end.

It’s important that Mando be the one to extend his hand and for he and the marshal to have an uneasy alliance that is contingent on each of them working together without the guarantee the other person will fulfill their end of the bargain. They both have reasons to regard each other with suspicion, but they also both have reasons to see how the other can be a potential ally they end up respecting in the end. That interpersonal conflict keeps the stakes up because it can only be resolved after the bigger physical plot with the dragon is taken care of. It keeps suspense and suspicion around the marshal (keeping the audience watching and trying to figure out the sincerity of his next move), and his character is given more dimension and agency as somebody who operates independent of Mando’s story in the greater world surrounding them. Characters whose relationships are forged through conflict and hardship are more dynamic and interesting to watch than ones who can have a civil conversation and end up on already good terms from the beginning.

What compels Mando to stay (and what has him drive the action of the story because he’s making interesting, proactive character choices based on the circumstances he finds himself in) is the town being at risk, and him seeing the depth to Vanth’s character and now thinking he may be able to be reasoned with. Din’s sense of honor as a person and as a Mandalorian, combined with a bit of that bleeding heart we know lies beneath the surface, will compel him to help the town, with the promise of cultural relics in return that satisfy the emotional goal. He could at any time still bail on what is a near-suicide mission and choose to save himself and the kid and wash his hands of the matter, so we as the audience are watching to see if that self-imposed spiritual goal of retrieving the armor will be important enough for him to gamble his life on (see: Krayt dragon) and gamble on Vanth’s unknown character. Though the actual plot of the town and the Krayt dragon doesn’t have anything to do with the plot of finding a teacher for the kid, it’s there to develop and showcase Mando’s character for the audience. Giving the episode more nuance better reinforces the main theme of the season and lays the groundwork for the choices we see Din make in “The Believer” onward.

In order to get some of Mando’s inner thoughts (and some of the above exposition/worldbuilding regarding the armor) out for the benefit of the audience, he could have broached the topic of his and the marshal’s agreement in the cantina while addressing the town. Vanth has the townsfolk on his side; the townsfolk need to know what personal stake Mando has in the dragon conflict and need to know that he’s not going to leave them high and dry when and if the fight seems impossible, especially since it was his idea to volunteer them for the fight and to do so under a truce with their local enemies.

Mando needs to make it clear exactly how much that armor is important to him and why, and he needs to make it clear that despite his initial hostility towards the marshal, he’s a man of his word and will only receive the armor as payment for the job. It goes unspoken that if Mando double-crosses Vanth at any point, killing him or catching him unawares and taking the armor by force, he will have tarnished his reputation and made himself an enemy of Mos Pelgo. Mando only has the speederbike to get away if he’s going to have both the kid and the armor with him (because he can’t carry all of it and the kid while piloting the jetpack), and the townsfolk have the power of numbers and familiarity with the location on their side. They could easily hunt him down and exact retribution. There’d be little he could do to stop them.

This particular episode reinforces the themes of duty, honor, caring for community, and keeping one’s word as part of what makes a Mandalorian who they are, but it also sets up for the audience how people with those characteristics exist outside of Mandalorians in contrast to those who claim to be Mandalorians but clearly show no respect for those qualities (like Bo-Katan in “The Heiress”). The idea of “What makes a Mandalorian?” will be a running throughline for the season when we see it brought up again in “The Heiress” with Bo-Katan, “The Tragedy” with Boba Fett, and it’ll be the focus of both “The Believer” and the finale when it comes to Mando himself.

The latter is easier to address because it’s been the running theme of the show, and the Frog Lady’s objective hinges on her and the eggs making it out of the misadventure alive. Mando spends the entire episode from the very beginning facing hardship after hardship in an effort to 1. Keep his kid safe and 2. Get closer to completing his goal of giving the kid to a Jedi who will be able to teach the kid how to keep himself safe.

The episode starts off with a close call with the bandits and a grueling trek across the desert. I would have liked to see a moment between Mando and the kid as he’s packing up the necessities that reinforces why it was so important for him to get the armor back from the marshal. We know Mando is willing to go through whatever it takes to get the kid safely back to Mos Eisley, but the kid could have seen how difficult the trek was with everything the Mandalorian was carrying, and he could have touched the extra armor as if to suggest Mando leave it behind in order to make the trip easier.

Mando, inferring the question or simply choosing to talk to the kid, tells him something along the lines of “This armor belonged to somebody who… No longer walks with us. If we can’t return it to their family, we bring it to the tribe so others like us can be fitted for protection. It deserves respect, no matter where it came from; they won’t be forgotten if they’re carried with us.”

That moment conveys how Mandalorians care for the armor as if it’s one of their own fallen people, that it’s important to treat it with respect either by finding the proper owner or by reclaiming the metal to be used as armor to protect others like them down the road. Mandalorian armor can come from a number of sources— The style makes it Mandalorian, not the material (paralleling the idea that Mandalorians as people can come from any origin or species, they don’t have to be from the homeworld of Mandalore). The emphasis is put on legacy and culture, people’s choice to be a Mandalorian being what defines them (not their origin), protecting/providing for those who come after us and passing on what’s culturally important to the next generation so the previous one is honored in remembrance and the future generation can continue with knowledge of the past.

Any of that more technical explanation of the themes can be relayed in “The Marshal” during the scene suggested in the previous post, exposition given in the form of teaching others to inform them of Mando’s reason for helping. Here, Mando’s just summarizing and reinforcing those ideas for the kid to give enough character acknowledgment of the subject in this episode before it segues into helping the Frog Lady travel to Trask in order to continue her family line.

The eggs set up the stakes of the episode, the promise of contact with Mandalorians on Trask contingent on their survival. The whole reason Mando is doing any of this is in order to find somebody who will be able to help keep his own child safe, therefore I think there needed to be more emphasis on him keeping the kid from eating the eggs.

Have the kid go after the eggs, but have it so Mando is able to intervene or stop him and force him to spit them out. He doesn’t say much beyond telling the kid to knock it off and not do it again. We still establish that the kid is a threat to the eggs, maintaining/upping the risks in the story, and we also have the humorous reality of Mando handling what every caretaker of toddlers has had to deal with: them putting things in their mouths they’re not supposed to and forcing them spit it out.

After the crash they take stock of their situation like in canon, and Mando gradually gets more and more sullen, their prospects looking grim before he finally tells the Frog Lady that he can’t do anything about the hull until the sun comes back up, prompting the Frog Lady to access Zero’s vocabulator after Mando and the kid bed down for the night. She, in using Zero, emphasizes that their situation cannot wait until morning and tells him “My husband has risked his life to carve out an existence for us on the only planet that is habitable for our species. We have worked too hard and suffered too much to resign ourselves to the extinction of our family line.”

It’s a hard hitting line and it forces Mando to get up and move, his child watching him the entire time. Mando has the Frog Lady helping inside with the finer mechanical and electrical work while he works on patching the fuel leak, fixing the engines, and reinforcing the cockpit outside. The kid is outside with him holding a flashlight for him while he works before Din goes up to work on reinforcing the cockpit. We can see the Frog Lady working inside beneath the canopy, and when Din goes back to get his tools and get the kid, the kid is gone.

Seeing the kid’s tracks going back into the Crest, Mando realizes what he must be going for and dashes back inside, calling for him. He sees him at the other end of the hold and runs down to stop him before the kid puts an egg in his mouth and tries to run away.

Mando chases after the kid, grabs him, and holds his hand in front of the kid’s mouth saying “Spit it out. Spit it out.” When the kid doesn’t, it’s with an aggravated huff that Mando yanks off his glove and sticks his finger in the kid’s mouth and fishes around for the egg until it pops back out, but not before the kid bites him. There’s a lot more force behind the kid's jaws than there appears, and Din grunts at the pain. He catches the egg with the other hand and is luckily able to put it back in the case, but his finger begins to bleed the second he pulls it out.

The kid is distressed and tries to grab his hand, but Mando’s already pulling on his glove and reprimanding him, and in the process of trying to get his point across to the kid he slips and says “Look. These are important to her the same way you are important to me. We need her to help us, and she’s not going to do that if you continue to bother them. Do not touch them again.”

The boy looks genuinely ashamed and caught off guard by his tone. Mando closes the tank, and his silence makes the kid’s ears droop, the audience feeling the guilt alongside him as Mando says “Nap time,” and puts him back in the bunk by himself.

The audience sees at the same time Grogu does the severity of Mando’s concern and the surprise accidental confession of his care for the kid. We know Din hasn’t wanted to admit his depth of care for the kid (because admitting so would mean facing the inevitable heartbreak if and when they are separated), but having it actually spoken in dialogue would have been good to further their relationship, especially given the end goal for this season, and it would have given the episode itself more grounding and emotional significance. It’s important for us to get Mando’s inner thoughts, and those only come out when he’s pushed by outside events or characters.

Later during a quiet moment where Mando is working on the ship and the kid is hovering nearby watching him, Mando irritably makes that remark that the kid make himself useful if he’s going to be out there; what happens instead is that the kid comes over and puts his hand on Din’s glove and closes his eyes.

Instantly, Mando feels his finger heal. He sighs at the apology, thanks the kid, and either takes him back inside to warm up or gives him his cloak out there, or he has him hold a flashlight and gently explains what he’s doing for the kid’s benefit. Scene finishes with Mando trailing off into maintenance and mechanic knowledge. It’s a moment that also helps Mando get back into problem-solving mode, the one-sided conversation a way to help him talk out his thoughts and admit to himself that even though the situation looks bleak, he is obligated to do everything in his power to get the ship back up and running (if not for the information he needs, then for the fact all of their lives are on the line)

—

Interestingly enough, incorporating Zero how they did could have been a great opportunity to further/parallel another theme in the show that we didn’t get to continue exploring with Mando, which is the idea of him not trusting droids. I bring it up because it can dovetail into what they talk about during the Frog Lady’s conversation when she holds Mando accountable.

Mando’s opinion at the end of Season 1 was changed because Kuiil, with IG-11, shows him that droids are not inherently untrustworthy, but he says in this episode that the droid the Frog Lady is utilizing is a killer, despite the fact Zero is broken down to his component parts and isn’t actually sentient at the time. Though Mando shows in the first episode with Peli’s pit droids this season that he is starting to warm up to them, change is not a linear path and it’s clear he still holds some animosity towards one that was a problem before.

I point it out because Kuiil tells him in “Reckoning” in Season 1 that he recovered IG-11’s parts and rebuilt him, programming and training him to be a nurse droid. Some of Kuiil’s exact words are:

“… Reconstruction was quite difficult, but not impossible. It had to learn everything from scratch. This is something that cannot be taught with a twist of a spanner. It requires patience and repetition. I spent day after day, reinforcing its development with patience and affirmation. It developed a personality as its experiences grew. […] Droids are not good or bad. They are neutral reflections of those who imprint them.”

All of which can be applied to the idea of raising children.

Children have to be taught how to walk, how to navigate their surroundings, how to develop fine motor skills, how to learn from their mistakes, and how to be compassionate and caring and attentive and connect with those around them (all things we see IG go through in the above sequence Kuiil speaks over). It cannot be forced or programmed into them— Teaching skills and correcting behaviors takes patience, repetition, practice, reinforcement, and encouragement, and it’s done through connecting with them as individuals. Children are reflections of their upbringings, and their environment and influences are what will shape and mold them as they grow into independent people who we hope will make the right decisions.

All of those qualities could have been seen in an allegory for the droids. Droids themselves are neutral, and even those that were created for a certain purpose can be reprogrammed to do something that, according to Mando in “Reckoning,” “goes against its nature.” The idea of nature vs. nurture blends into a larger theme we see in a lot of Star Wars media that is especially relevant in this show: “Are we defined by our origin, or is it our choices that make us who we are? Is there anybody who isn’t capable of change?”

The simplest way to include this without having to spell it all out for the audience is by giving the Frog Lady just a little more dialogue. When Mando says it’s a killer, she looks at it briefly before looking back at him. “The droid is in pieces; it does what I’ve programmed it [taught] to do.”

In summary, “The Passenger” had a lot of potential, and while I know episodes can only go so long, I still think there were ways to address or at least set up these themes to be explored later.

Give us a brief scene in the beginning of quiet reflection on legacy between Mando and the kid. Give us some of Mando’s own thoughts on the importance of armor and what it means to Mandalorians after they’ve died, and give the desert trek a moment that focuses on the kid being the reason he goes through the lengths he does.

Give the Frog Lady’s eggs the weight and importance they deserve, considering their survival is what the stakes of Din’s objective are hinged upon, and show Din stopping the kid from eating them (still giving us an obstacle and bonding moments between Mando and his kid) but include the dialogue where he verbally admits his inner thoughts

When the Frog Lady accesses Zero’s vocabulator, her objective is to hold Mando accountable to the terms of their deal and to get him to do everything in his power to get them to safety. Her pointed remark that she thought Mandalorians were people known for keeping their word, “but I guess those are just stories meant for children,” puts added accountability on him not just as a Mandalorian but as a father of a child watching everything he does. When Mando tells the Frog Lady not to mess with the droid because it’s a killer, the conversation briefly diverts to her echoing what Kuiil says in Season 1, which in turn parallels the concept of raising kids

The rest of the episode can take place as it does, but it would have been good to get one more moment between him and the Frog Lady, resolving their interpersonal tensions and coming to an understanding based on gratitude for each other’s help, and maybe it ends with Mando taking his glove off for the kid to play with his hand as they settle in for the long ride ahead (showing how the kid is already able to get under that protective outer shell because Mando is opening up to him too).

The resolution focuses on Din showing again that not only is he an honorable man, but that honorable Mandalorians are people who keep their word. It’ll set him up in contrast to Bo-Katan and her crew in the following episode of “The Heiress” specifically because she and her crew deceive him (while also mocking the way he personally adheres to what he knows the rules of being a Mandalorian to be). All of that is just there to better thread these story elements together.

Most of these small scenes don’t have to be dialogue heavy. Mando carries a lot of weight in his gaze and movements, and it’s easy for us to see what he’s thinking when the camera lingers on what he focuses on and considers most important. It would have been a good episode to get more of the parenting, father-and-son bonding aspects of their stories since the following three episodes have them separated for the majority of the physical plots, and after that the focus becomes giving the child away, or the child being forcibly taken from him.

However, Mando is more dimensional than just his love for the kid. His devotion to his culture is also important, and the reason we watch the show is because the primary emotional conflict is the internal struggle of wondering which he will prioritize in the end, keeping the tension up regarding his decisions. Having that secondary story hook means there will be times he makes decisions that complicate things for himself or create obstacles of his own doing on the journey towards the end. TV shows have time to tell a story where a character messes up, or is forced to take the lesser of two bad decisions, or has to reckon with the fallout of their character flaws and internal struggles. Conflict is not always character vs character, and giving characters more than one goal opens the story up to those personal moral dilemmas where they have to weigh the cost vs the benefits of each option.

The emotional complication here is that Mando’s culture shock with the Nite Owls puts him at odds with wanting to work with them since he’s suspicious of them being Mandalorians at all (see: how he (should have) viewed Vanth as a grave robber parading around in cultural relics that have personal weight, significance, and reputation attributed to them), and Bo-Katan’s assertion that he was raised in a cult only complicates things further.

In order to set the episode and characters up for stronger, more complex and layered conflict that will let the characters make decisions in ways that coincide with what’s already been established and foreshadow problems to come, I think there’s a few changes that need to be made.

Canon doesn’t actually have Mando do much once he’s on the cargo freighter. He follows behind the Nite Owls and barely gets a shot in before the shootout in the hall and his run with the thermals; that’s bad writing on the writers’ part for not writing their main character’s involvement into the scenes. Don’t nerf your main character to make other characters look better by comparison, especially if the circumstances are normally ones your main character would excel in or has faced before. Make the overall scenario more challenging, and/or write all of the characters better.

I think the episode should have had Mando either leading the charge himself in an effort to accomplish their mission as quickly as possible, or had Bo-Katan forcing him to fight in front of her and the Nite Owls, keeping her own people back because they mean more to her and she expects him to prove his merit. Show us the truly lethal Mandalorian hunter we’ve seen taking down multiple combatants at a time the way a lone hunter would (like the Stormtrooper safehouse in “The Sin” and the criminal crew in “The Prisoner”, the up close and personal fighting style like with Gor Koresh’s crew reserved for when there are no other options), contrasted with a militant group of guerilla fighters who act as an ambush unit. Don’t make him inept next to them— Highlight the difference in his skill sets, fighting from afar and conserving his energy for when he has no choice but to fight in close quarters, as opposed to them dropping in and relying on their numbers to split the enemies’ attention and overwhelm them. The Nite Owls’ strategy of hitting hard and fast can work for a time, but stealth will better conserve their energy and the element of surprise when they know they’re going to end up against multiple targets by the end. An ambush works better when you have more people, and there’s still only three of them.

The contrast here should have shown the difference between a single fighter vs a group. In canon, the writers/directors didn’t create opportunities for Din’s character to do anything which is part of why the story feels like it’s moving him around instead of him driving the action (hence my suggestion to put him in the front). It’s not just that he seems inept next to them— He would seem inept next to anybody. Give him fights with troopers in close quarters like the rest of them, but showcase his aim and firepower from a distance.

Show him using his surroundings and intuiting how the freighter operates, blocking off hallways and rerouting Stormtroopers like he did with the crew in “The Prisoner.” Have him working around Axe and Koska, telling them to duck or move, or blocking shots directed at them with his armor. Towards the end during the hallway shootout, instead of his ridiculous run through a barrage of laser fire, he instead stops Koska from advancing at the mouth of the hall, narrowly saving her from being shot, and holding all of them back without a word; as they start to protest at his actions, we see him arm a thermal detonator, quickly and expertly whip it down the hallway at head height, and raise his blaster to fire one shot, hitting the grenade midair to explode in the troopers’ covey before there’s even a chance for them to realize what happened, killing all of them at once.

Axe murmurs “Nice shot,” and Koska nods curtly in thanks, and the three of them move on with the camera lingering on Bo-Katan, watching him. It’s still Mando who gets them to the cargo hold, but all of their skillsets are better balanced, he’s not doing a stupid suicide run down the hall, and he’s still portrayed as being the capable character we know him to be, even if his methods are different than the Nite Owls’. He fulfills his side of the bargain.

After that comes the interpersonal conflict when Bo-Katan gets ahold of the comm and informs the bridge that they’re taking over the entire ship, which is not the job Mando agreed to. Bo-Katan’s deception in the name of Mandalorian culture— in an episode where she’s already derided the way he follows the Creed— should have been the catalyst for Mando to finally break off his alliance with her for three reasons.

One, she isn’t keeping her word and is taking advantage of his presence after he did a majority of the heavy lifting, holding the information he needs as ransom unless he continues to do what she says. She’s put him at an exponential risk for selfish gain, either unaware or uncaring that he is the sole caretaker, provider, and protector of a child.

Two, she justifies her deceit by elevating the tenet of Mandalorians banding together above anything else, implying that following her lead (through some sense of misplaced authority over him because of her background) is what would prove he’s a real Mandalorian, and she does this all while saying “This is the Way,” disrespectfully comparing her actions to how he follows the Creed. She’s a dishonorable person and the antithesis of what Mando knows honorable Mandalorians to be. His culture and the safety of the child are the two most important things to him, and she has compromised or insulted both of them.

Three, since she’s deceived him, there’s no reason for him to think she was ever telling the truth about having information about a Jedi to begin with.

That’s the point at which he should have ended things between them, refusing to continue helping her and forfeiting the alleged information, his actions a result of who he is as a Mandalorian: an honorable person who keeps their word (unlike Bo-Katan), and somebody who prioritizes a child ahead of reclaiming weapons for Mandalore. Even if they share a common enemy and taking down the Imperials is objectively a good thing, it can’t come at the cost of his life because his son’s life is reliant on Mando being alive at the end of the day to protect him, and it can’t come as a compromise to what he stands for because that would be rewarding them for their underhanded actions (something his character shouldn’t have just rolled over for).

Add to that that he just got done shaking a bunch of Imperials off his trail not that long ago and wouldn’t want to make himself a target yet again by being known for the loss of this shipment. Though Bo-Katan isn’t just after material gain since her own emotional needs are to defend her pride and send the message that she’s going to take back her home planet and throne, Mando has no reason to care about them after what she’s just done, as opposed to how he cared about the town in “The Marshal” despite being at odds with Vanth. Mando should’ve said he was out, he was forfeiting the information he now didn’t have reason to believe she even had or would have given him in the first place, and that he didn’t want to be associated with somebody like her before he literally jumps ship and flies off, leaving them to the consequences of their deception.

Despite the fact he needs information about the Jedi, this changed episode shows that there are still other aspects to his character and that being/representing what he thinks a Mandalorian SHOULD be is still high on his list of priorities. While going along with Bo-Katan after it’s revealed that she’s lied to him in canon was supposed to convey that yeah, he’s keeping his word as opposed to the Nite Owls and he’s willing to do anything for the kid, the way the writers/directors had him do it with a suicide run down the hall with the detonators makes him look foolishly reckless, and what it tells me is that he’s willing to sacrifice himself for these deceptive Mandalorians AND allow them to reap the benefit of their actions instead of holding them accountable and leaving them to their consequences. The immediate consequence is that they lose his participation (as well as any future alliance), and they lose the shipment.

Mando doesn’t have to get along with everybody he comes in contact with, and the audience doesn’t have to like every character as a person. The characters are there to serve the story. This changed episode maintains tension, builds and furthers conflict between Mando and other characters he’ll need to come back to down the road, and it keeps him from being a pushover who “makes friends” with everyone he meets. Give these characters interpersonal conflict outside of plot points (the Darksaber, in the case of BKK later) so problems can develop organically from an established personal history, and let your main character complicate his own story by taking an active role in the direction it’s going. It’ll keep it from feeling like the plot is moving him around as needed and it’ll make him a more dynamic character to watch because his decisions will have different consequences and affect outcomes down the road. Having him say “Yes” to everyone in canon makes the episodes predictable.

(Personally, I think this particular show would have been a lot stronger if the writers had stuck to their guns and made Bo-Katan more of a primary antagonist post-Season 2, especially if they were going to imprison Moff Gideon at the end of this season anyway. Mando’s refusal to follow her in “The Heiress” results in her blaming him for the lost shipment. Mando will have more to overcome when it comes to convincing her to help him in the finale, and it establishes interpersonal animosity compounded by plot conflict as the divide between the two characters grows after the outcome of the finale (combining the emotional and physical stakes). Bo-Katan’s own character would be more interesting and complex if there was more give and take between them, and it gives her more foundation to be the main antagonist for Mando after Gideon is out of the picture (especially if Gideon just spills the beans in the finale about how he evidently got the Darksaber from her in the first place). If you wanted to give her a redemption arc later down the road, that would have a more satisfying pull if she’s already been shown to do some pretty despicable things first.

Bonus change: To bring the episode full circle back to the kid at the end and tie up how Mando’s relationship with him is more important than the one he could have had making an alliance with the Nite Owls, the scene at the beginning of “The Siege” where he and Grogu are eating together could have happened somewhere at the beginning of this episode, and then we see a similar scene bookending it where the two of them are on the ship and Mando’s prepared another meal.

Mando plates up some food for himself and the kid again, the two of them sitting in the hold, but this time we see Mando look at the kid for a moment as the kid eats before the camera focuses on Grogu at his level, and we hear Din remove his helmet and set it aside to eat with him, the child able to see Din above the view of the camera. We had that glimpse in the beginning, and giving the kid this moment here shows us how Din’s refusal to eat with the Nite Owls was likely as much a pointed choice as making the connection with the kid is now. It shows again how the kid is getting under Din’s protective outer shell, no matter how much Din tries not to form a close relationship with the kid so their inevitable separation doesn’t hurt as badly as he knows it will.

I know the showrunners were saving the face reveal for the kid for the finale, but I don’t think that was handled well anyway, and in any rewritten finale following these changed episodes, you can still have an emotional moment between Din and Grogu where the audience sees Din’s face. I think treating Grogu the same as the audience does these characters a disservice in the grand scheme of things, and you end up reducing your show down to a gimmick instead of telling a more compelling story.

Both Mandalorians stopped at the sound of a voice from the shadows. Boba scowled, seeing Fennec.

“You’re supposed to be Mos Eisley.”

Fennec approaches as if she didn’t hear him. “It’s not you he reacted to.”

Boba snarled and whirled on his lieutenant. “Yes he bloody well did—”

Fennec cut him off. ”I don’t think it’s you,” she repeated. “The kid knows you. But he knows you as the armor.”

Boba didn’t respond.

”You are your armor, to him,” she said. “Same way Mando is to him, I’m guessing, if you really do keep the helmet on all the time. The kid’s Jedi, right?”

Din hesitated but slowly nodded.

”How old is he?”

”Fifty. Give or take.”

Fennec nodded as if that confirmed something for her. “Did he come from Coruscant?”

“I have no idea. What does that have to do with anything?”

“The clones worked with the Jedi during the Clone Wars. At its end, the clone army was ordered to execute every Jedi on grounds of treason. They killed their own generals, marched on the temple. If the kid was on Coruscant when the Jedi were attacked…”

Both men were silent before Din spoke first, to Boba. “You’re a clone?”

Boba didn’t answer. Din turned back to Fennec. “How do you know any of this?”

“I’m older than both of you,” she said flatly, then to Boba, “And you’re not the first clone I’ve met.”

Boba’s stony expression remained guarded. His narrowed gaze found the other Mandalorian, suspicious.

“I was a kid,” he said. “I’m not what they were.”

He went to the stone archway, speaking over his shoulder as he left.

“… Keep him away from me.”

—

Some time later, weeks or months after Din left his former homebase on Tatooine for what he assumed would be the last time, he receives a holo from Fett.

“Listen to me very carefully, Mando,” the green Mandalorian says stiffly in the hologram. “You’re more of an ally than most others I’ve met in my life. You’re a good man and I wouldn’t have retained my position without your aid in Mos Espa.

“If you can keep that kid of yours in line, you’re permitted to use the citadel as headquarters like you have been. Send a ping before you arrive. However—”

Fett shifted on the call. He almost appeared to be looking directly at Din.

“Your kid ever does something like that again,” Fett says gravely, “I’ll kill both of you. It’s your choice whether to come here or not. You choose what collateral damage you’re willing to risk.”

“This is Tython,” Din said. He pointed to the second picture, a smooth rock with iridescent lines being drawn skyward. There was a small, simplified drawing of the child seated upon it. “Do you remember the Seeing Stone?”

The child might have nodded, but Din took his coo and him tapping the page and looking up at him as confirmation. He shuffled to the next page, an outcropping and scrub brush with three figures congregated on it.

“Fennec and Fett were there that day,” Din says, signing with his hands as well. He didn’t feel the need to tell the child in what ways the account was abridged. He laid the third page down, two drawings splitting it in half; one was as simplified a version of the black droids as he could make to keep from scaring the child. The other was Gideon’s ship.

“Fennec and Fett helped defeat the stormtroopers Moff Gideon sent to keep us occupied— Uh…” Din thought, trying to come up with the words and signs to break it down better. “Busy,” he said, “And distracted. It’s why I was far away.”

The child’s ears drooped as Din spoke. He folded his hands into his sleeves, looking back down at the drawing of the droids. Din sighed, laying the next page down.

“Fennec and Fett helped me find you,” he said, placing his finger on each of the figures next to firespray gunship. He might have spent too long trying to get that right, but the boy knew what ship Boba flew. He lingered on the drawing of Fett.

“Boba Fett and Fennec helped me find you,” Din said again, emphasizing each word with the signs. “They are good people, and they helped me rescue you. They are friends and are good to us. They know you are important to me. They do not mean either of us any harm. We have spent time with them. You’ve seen this.”

Din laid down another page, this time of Fett from the waist up. He was holding his helmet.

“Boba Fett is a friend,” Din repeated. “He is a good person to us and we can trust him.”

The child contemplated the last picture sullenly, ever so slightly leaning away. Din waited for the boy to acknowledge him, but it was a long moment before the boy drew his hands from his sleeves, pointing to the portrait of Boba and watching his own hands carefully as he signed back to Din.

Lying.

Din was caught off guard. He had no idea how to respond to that.

The boy pushed the papers away, refolding his hands into his sleeves.

“… Boba is not lying about who he is, and he is not hiding anything we need to know about,” Din said carefully. “I am sure of it, and I trust him. Do you trust me?”

The boy looked so immensely sad. He flipped the page over.

Tired, he signed. Bed please.

Grogu continued to develop his skills in healing as well as the years went on. Din frequently told him he wasn’t obligated to help people at his age, especially at a detriment to himself, but Grogu made it quite clear that it was something he wanted to do because he felt people’s pain so deeply that he was compelled to help out of compassion and care for others. At his age and stature there were very few things he could do for other people, he’d said, but this was one area where he had the talent and means to do some material good that others couldn’t provide. How could he justify not helping those in need?

As time progressed, Grogu studied physical means of healing too in order to better understand the bodies and systems of each of the beings whose paths they crossed, and as their cadre of connections and friends and allies grew, the types of needs he saw expanded and required other forms of healing that Grogu was unable to attend to with the Force: on a mission to Nar Shadaa, Fennec Shand was injured and out of commission longer than she might have been, had they had the access to someone with a more complex understanding of cybernetics.

Though she recovered well with Fett’s aid once they were back on Tatooine, it troubled Grogu to know that there was an area of healing and physical care that was a complete blind spot to him. Din may have been able to teach him the basics of repairing mechanical and electrical systems, but cybernetics were much, much different, and how they were incorporated into an organic body puzzled and troubled Grogu. There was something in cybernetic systems that just didn’t translate when he tried to study them, some disconnect between what he saw and sensed and understood, and it was frustrating not knowing what he didn’t know. He didn’t even know where to start or what questions to ask, and it was only after several months of frustration and discussions between them that a lightbulb went off and Grogu told Din he knew exactly who they should go to.

It took a considerable amount of time (not to say the least of a few favors) for the three of them to arrange a meeting, their lives as busy and fraught with peril as they were, but Grogu and Din were finally able to meet with the Jedi they’d briefly crossed paths with all those years ago; Luke Skywalker, a busy man and largely self-trained Jedi himself, had the kind of teacher’s patience, understanding of the Force, and experience caring for his own cybernetic prosthesis that made him ideal for Grogu to finally get a starting point. Luke may not have been a healer the way Grogu was, but being able to marry the understanding of the Force with the incorporation of inorganic medical components gave Grogu the opportunity to begin filling in the blanks for what he was missing. The Mandalorian remained nearby, watchful and curious as his ward followed the Jedi’s teachings.

Understanding that Grogu could use a mentor who understood him in ways very few others could, even if Grogu didn’t feel called to be a Jedi the way Luke was, Luke gave the Mandalorian and child the means to contact him so if there were ever any questions, they could reach out for help and further advice. Grogu still cared about people and wanted to help in what ways he could, and his aptitude for connecting with the Force had not faded with age. They made new contacts, did more research, and Grogu was able to continue refining his skills, bridging the two sides of learning together as he did.

The Mandalorian was getting on in years, but still felt relatively comfortable continuing to work. He had begun to suspect that the boy may have had something to do with that; he’d discovered early on after the start of their journeys together that the child had a habit of tending to Din’s injuries when he was asleep and couldn’t stop the boy from taking care of him. He’d made it clear to Grogu that he didn’t have to heal him (especially when it came at the expense of overexertion), but whether the child hadn’t understood at the time or he simply wasn’t going to do what Din told him to, Din didn’t know. It was a mild point of contention between them once they were finally able to communicate properly, but Grogu had made it clear that even if he were to try, Din wouldn’t be able to stop him anyway, and that he should accept help when it was offered because people like being able to help others. That wasn’t a characteristic only humans felt.

Even so, Din still felt considerably more spry for his age than he knew he should have been, all things considered. His memory and skills were still sharp. He was almost as active as he had been in his thirties and forties, and his stamina hadn’t waned how it should have with his advancing age and choice of profession. His eyesight hadn’t faded, he didn’t have any considerable ailments, and his joints were in remarkably— unrealistically— good shape.

Understanding and accepting change and loss are not lessons exclusive to the Jedi’s way of life.

When Din tried to broach the topic of the child’s care for his wellbeing, Grogu would change the subject or handwave the discussion away, evading Din’s efforts to address the inevitable. It was unfortunate that it took a sharp word and subsequent heated argument for the two of them to finally address the topic of whatever small amount of time they had left together, but Din insisted that they address it now before it was addressed for them and Grogu didn’t have a choice but to contend with the grief that loss brings with it, and contend with it alone.

I know what grief is, he’d told his father. You are not the first one I will have lost, and I will have the rest of my life to deal with it. Please don’t muddy the time we do have together.

They compromised after that, Din agreeing not to bring it up as often as long as Grogu didn’t heal him when it was unnecessary and he could recover fine with regular means. Grogu didn’t like it, but Din was happy to see him studying more as a result, honing his technique and repertoire of skills.

That being said, Din did not like Grogu suggesting technical reinforcements.

The Mandalorian and his ward were in hyperspace. The extraction job they had taken at the behest of a friend had nearly cost Din an arm; it was only by luck (or the will of the Force) that Grogu was nearby to halt Din’s adversary and keep it from being completely severed.

Grogu sat on the table in front of his father, carefully tending to the layers of injury Din had sustained. Din insisted he practice more of the traditional methods since he had the time and opportunity; Grogu had given what Din had come to understand was his equivalent of a sharp look, but dutifully went about tending the wounds, briefly using the Force again to ensure he’d stopped the worst of the bleeding.

The Mandalorian saw his boy turn to notate something in the small datapad beside him; Din largely couldn’t read most of it, but he’d started to see patterns in what notes were pulled up when Grogu took them down with him. There was one column that deepened the wrinkles beginning to line his face: he’d seen enough to know what theoretical solutions Grogu was looking at, given Din’s most-often encountered injuries, and the droidlike diagrams of different body systems and prosthetics soured his stomach.

“I don’t need them,” he murmured. “I have lasted this long without them, and I don’t want them.”

Grogu’s look of concentration deepened to disapproval. He finished cutting away Din’s sleeve and methodically cleaned his arm, clearing the way for him to work.

I may not always be able to heal you. What happens if we are apart?

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, come what may.”

They are a tool, Grogu said.

“Maybe, but they’re not for me,” Din said. “I’ll manage.”

You don’t have to, Grogu replied. There may come a time you have no choice.

“I won’t accept them.”

The boy looked up at him, disapproving. He stood on the table to tap three times on Din’s helmet. You may not be awake when someone comes to help. Hit your head often, you do.

Din grumbled something indistinct, flexing his hand. The boy sat back down, hand hovering over the now-clean open wound as he focused his energy on reversing the damage. Stubborn.

“I know.”

Take better care.

“I’ll try.”

Do. I do not like when you are hurt.

“… I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

I will, always.

“You don’t—”

Grogu smacked his arm twice. I will. Always.

Din smiled crookedly, gently resting his hand on the boy as he worked. “Stubborn.”

I follow your example.

Grogu sat back, finishing with the closure. He looked up at the Mandalorian, wide brown eyes solemn and thoughtful. He thought of how many years he’d had with his father, but he knew no matter how many there were, it would never be enough.

Grogu reached up to rest his hand on the edge of Din’s helmet, and Din removed it to set it aside. The boy stood up on the tips of his toes to reach Din’s face and bring it down to his, pressing his forehead to Din’s as Din rested his hand on Grogu’s back.

Grogu continued to develop his skills in healing as well as the years went on. Din frequently told him he wasn’t obligated to help people at his age, especially at a detriment to himself, but Grogu made it quite clear that it was something he wanted to do because he felt people’s pain so deeply that he was compelled to help out of compassion and care for others. At his age and stature there were very few things he could do for other people, he’d said, but this was one area where he had the talent and means to do some material good that others couldn’t provide. How could he justify not helping those in need?

As time progressed, Grogu studied physical means of healing too in order to better understand the bodies and systems of each of the beings whose paths they crossed, and as their cadre of connections and friends and allies grew, the types of needs he saw expanded and required other forms of healing that Grogu was unable to attend to with the Force: on a mission to Nar Shadaa, Fennec Shand was injured and out of commission longer than she might have been, had they had the access to someone with a more complex understanding of cybernetics.

Though she recovered well with Fett’s aid once they were back on Tatooine, it troubled Grogu to know that there was an area of healing and physical care that was a complete blind spot to him. Din may have been able to teach him the basics of repairing mechanical and electrical systems, but cybernetics were much, much different, and how they were incorporated into an organic body puzzled and troubled Grogu. There was something in cybernetic systems that just didn’t translate when he tried to study them, some disconnect between what he saw and sensed and understood, and it was frustrating not knowing what he didn’t know. He didn’t even know where to start or what questions to ask, and it was only after several months of frustration and discussions between them that a lightbulb went off and Grogu told Din he knew exactly who they should go to.

It took a considerable amount of time (not to say the least of a few favors) for the three of them to arrange a meeting, their lives as busy and fraught with peril as they were, but Grogu and Din were finally able to meet with the Jedi they’d briefly crossed paths with all those years ago; Luke Skywalker, a busy man and largely self-trained Jedi himself, had the kind of teacher’s patience, understanding of the Force, and experience caring for his own cybernetic prosthesis that made him ideal for Grogu to finally get a starting point. Luke may not have been a healer the way Grogu was, but being able to marry the understanding of the Force with the incorporation of inorganic medical components gave Grogu the opportunity to begin filling in the blanks for what he was missing. The Mandalorian remained nearby, watchful and curious as his ward followed the Jedi’s teachings.

Understanding that Grogu could use a mentor who understood him in ways very few others could, even if Grogu didn’t feel called to be a Jedi the way Luke was, Luke gave the Mandalorian and child the means to contact him so if there were ever any questions, they could reach out for help and further advice. Grogu still cared about people and wanted to help in what ways he could, and his aptitude for connecting with the Force had not faded with age. They made new contacts, did more research, and Grogu was able to continue refining his skills, bridging the two sides of learning together as he did.

The Mandalorian was getting on in years, but still felt relatively comfortable continuing to work. He had begun to suspect that the boy may have had something to do with that; he’d discovered early on after the start of their journeys together that the child had a habit of tending to Din’s injuries when he was asleep and couldn’t stop the boy from taking care of him. He’d made it clear to Grogu that he didn’t have to heal him (especially when it came at the expense of overexertion), but whether the child hadn’t understood at the time or he simply wasn’t going to do what Din told him to, Din didn’t know. It was a mild point of contention between them once they were finally able to communicate properly, but Grogu had made it clear that even if he were to try, Din wouldn’t be able to stop him anyway, and that he should accept help when it was offered because people like being able to help others. That wasn’t a characteristic only humans felt.

Even so, Din still felt considerably more spry for his age than he knew he should have been, all things considered. His memory and skills were still sharp. He was almost as active as he had been in his thirties and forties, and his stamina hadn’t waned how it should have with his advancing age and choice of profession. His eyesight hadn’t faded, he didn’t have any considerable ailments, and his joints were in remarkably— unrealistically— good shape.

Understanding and accepting change and loss are not lessons exclusive to the Jedi’s way of life.

When Din tried to broach the topic of the child’s care for his wellbeing, Grogu would change the subject or handwave the discussion away, evading Din’s efforts to address the inevitable. It was unfortunate that it took a sharp word and subsequent heated argument for the two of them to finally address the topic of whatever small amount of time they had left together, but Din insisted that they address it now before it was addressed for them and Grogu didn’t have a choice but to contend with the grief that loss brings with it, and contend with it alone.

I know what grief is, he’d told his father. You are not the first one I will have lost, and I will have the rest of my life to deal with it. Please don’t muddy the time we do have together.

They compromised after that, Din agreeing not to bring it up as often as long as Grogu didn’t heal him when it was unnecessary and he could recover fine with regular means. Grogu didn’t like it, but Din was happy to see him studying more as a result, honing his technique and repertoire of skills.

That being said, Din did not like Grogu suggesting technical reinforcements.

The Mandalorian and his ward were in hyperspace. The extraction job they had taken at the behest of a friend had nearly cost Din an arm; it was only by luck (or the will of the Force) that Grogu was nearby to halt Din’s adversary and keep it from being completely severed.

Grogu sat on the table in front of his father, carefully tending to the layers of injury Din had sustained. Din insisted he practice more of the traditional methods since he had the time and opportunity; Grogu had given what Din had come to understand was his equivalent of a sharp look, but dutifully went about tending the wounds, briefly using the Force again to ensure he’d stopped the worst of the bleeding.

The Mandalorian saw his boy turn to notate something in the small datapad beside him; Din largely couldn’t read most of it, but he’d started to see patterns in what notes were pulled up when Grogu took them down with him. There was one column that deepened the wrinkles beginning to line his face: he’d seen enough to know what theoretical solutions Grogu was looking at, given Din’s most-often encountered injuries, and the droidlike diagrams of different body systems and prosthetics soured his stomach.

“I don’t need them,” he murmured. “I have lasted this long without them, and I don’t want them.”

Grogu’s look of concentration deepened to disapproval. He finished cutting away Din’s sleeve and methodically cleaned his arm, clearing the way for him to work.

I may not always be able to heal you. What happens if we are apart?

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, come what may.”

They are a tool, Grogu said.

“Maybe, but they’re not for me,” Din said. “I’ll manage.”

You don’t have to, Grogu replied. There may come a time you have no choice.

“I won’t accept them.”

The boy looked up at him, disapproving. He stood on the table to tap three times on Din’s helmet. You may not be awake when someone comes to help. Hit your head often, you do.

Din grumbled something indistinct, flexing his hand. The boy sat back down, hand hovering over the now-clean open wound as he focused his energy on reversing the damage. Stubborn.

“I know.”

Take better care.

“I’ll try.”

Do. I do not like when you are hurt.

“… I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

I will, always.

“You don’t—”

Grogu smacked his arm twice. I will. Always.

Din smiled crookedly, gently resting his hand on the boy as he worked. “Stubborn.”

I follow your example.

Grogu sat back, finishing with the closure. He looked up at the Mandalorian, wide brown eyes solemn and thoughtful. He thought of how many years he’d had with his father, but he knew no matter how many there were, it would never be enough.

Grogu reached up to rest his hand on the edge of Din’s helmet, and Din removed it to set it aside. The boy stood up on the tips of his toes to reach Din’s face and bring it down to his, pressing his forehead to Din’s as Din rested his hand on Grogu’s back.