Inside the Razor Crest, Din could hear Grogu’s excited squeals and your soft laughter echoing from outside. It had been a long bounty mission, the target was halfway across the galaxy and far more cunning than expected. Still, Din had managed to track them down, collected the bounty, and finally found a quiet place safe enough to repair the ship and rest for a while.

Both he and Grogu were exhausted.

You, though… you were unexpected.

A complication he’d picked up along the way after pulling you out of trouble, and yet, Grogu seemed to like you, clinging to you during the flight. Din still wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do with you or even, who’re you. But after days of chasing bounties, patching wounds, and barely sleeping, he decided figuring that out could wait a little longer.

A few hours later, the control board was finally working again. By the darkness stretching beyond the cockpit windows, it was already late.

Din headed toward the cabin area, pulling open storage compartments in search of something edible for the three of you. Nothing good, obviously, just canned rations, packaged noodles, and whatever passed for fast food on the Outer Rim. Enough to fill stomachs, nothing too fancy. That was all that mattered.

On the upper shelf sat Grogu’s stash of snacks: those little blue cookies kiddo was absurdly obsessed with.

Din tried to count them three times but the amount looked… off.

A few packs were missing.

For a second he frowned beneath the helmet, trying to remember how many were left before the mission. Maybe he’d counted wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time after days without proper sleep.

Then he heard it again, Grogu’s impossibly excited shriek from outside.

Ah. So that was it.

That explained why Grogu had attached himself to you so quickly. You were feeding him contraband snacks behind Din’s back.

With a quiet sigh to himself, Din stepped out of the Razor Crest. Cool night air hit the beskar immediately.

“Grogu,” he called, voice low but firm. “Come on. Time for supper.”

The moment he walked around the ship, he spotted the evidence instantly, bright blue crumbs stuck all over Grogu’s tiny robes.

Din slowly tilted his helmet toward the child.

“I know you’ve been eating those cookies behind my back.”

He tried to sound stern. Tried to.

Grogu let out a guilty little chirp before waddling as fast as his tiny legs could carry him, immediately ducking behind you.

Din crossed his arms. Of course. “And you, lady,” he said, pointing a gloved finger directly at you, “I know exactly what you’re doing.”