FORTY TWO.
agony!
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Zoya rolls onto the ground, sliding beneath a bombardment of blaster fire. Din, to her left, flinches as one bolt ricochets off the Beskar molded to his shoulder. Greef shoots from behind them, and Cara's heavy weapon still mows down Stormtroopers in view of the cantina's broken window. But no matter how many troopers they fell, more seem to rise in their places.

IG-11 twists with the child still strapped to his front, taking out four troopers in a matter of seconds, shooting so quickly that the ends of his blasters seem to be permanently stained a glowing crimson.

But even with how quickly he moves, the droid is still not fast enough. As Zoya fires off a few more shots, bolts pound into IG-11's back, sending him to his knees with a dull clang. She swallows a shout as the droid hunches down over the child, protecting him from the troopers still firing upon them, sacrificing the integrity of his own form for the creature's sake. Whipping around, Zoya's eyes find Din's helmet, glinting like a beacon.

"Din—" she starts to shout, but he's already moving.

Shoving his blaster into the holster at his hip, Din jumps forward, ducking underneath the Imperial fire. He's heading directly for the cannon that they'd set up outside the cantina; Zoya's eyes widen when she realizes what he's going to do.

"Holy shit," she mutters, edging back towards a wall, wondering if she'll need to take cover. "Greef—"

Din picks up the cannon from its mount, holding it low at his hips. Without a single moment of hesitation, he turns and releases a steady stream of fire upon the Stormtroopers still alive on the other side of the square. Smoke the color of slate bubbles from the ground where the bolts strike, and troopers collapse to the ground as they're hit, cries echoing underneath the cacophonous sound of the heavy weapon firing.

Zoya presses herself against the wall, Greef nearby, and together they aide Din, firing upon the remaining Stormtroopers. It isn't long before Cara's blaster erupts once more from within the cantina. With the additional support of the cannon, for the first time it seems possible that they could make it out of this alive—even IG-11 rises to his feet, holding his blasters high.

"Behind you!" Greef shoots over her shoulder twice in the blink of an eye.

Zoya flinches instinctively, but turns to see two troopers smoldering on the ground. She nods shortly, trying to catch her breath. "Thanks," she says.

"Don't mention it."

A jarring boom rattles the ground, shakes the planet down to its very core. Greef and Zoya stumble forwards, heat blasting at their backs.

"What the hell was that?" she shouts, and they turn in time to see fire blooming from what was once the door to the cantina. "Cara!"

"I'll go," Greef yells over the noise, and runs forward towards the black smoke. As soon as the Guild leader is far enough away, someone approaches.

"Zoya." The voice is calm and deep and grates as it slides across her skin. Zoya freezes, squeezing her eyes shut. No, no, no, no, no. "Sister. What have you done?" His tone is patronizing but calm, as if he's scolding her for something trivial, like eating too many sweets during a festival or staying out a few minutes too late to watch the stars, and she can feel it affect her, just like it did when they were younger.

She turns swiftly on her heel; her eyes fall upon Ayaan's face as he emerges from the carnage just as she raises her blaster, aiming it at the spot between his brows. His face is so familiar, and in his features, she can see the eyes of the boy she'd knew, the boy that had given himself to the war and let it destroy him. Zoya shakes her head, stepping back. "No, what have you done?" She's ashamed of how soft her voice comes out, how tears threaten her eyes.

"What I was meant to do," Ayaan says. "I've only done what was necessary to save the galaxy. To save you. It's all been for you. And now, you're pointing a blaster at me like I'm the villain." Even as he reprimands her, Ayaan raises his own weapon calmly, leveling it at Zoya's head.

"You are." Zoya grips her blaster, tears dripping onto her cheeks. "I don't even know you, not anymore. The Ayaan I knew never would have let himself become this," she whispers hoarsely, staring at the man that used to be her brother, but is now unrecognizable.

Ayaan sneers, lip curling. "Then you never knew me at all."

"You're my brother," she says weakly. "I knew you better than anyone."

He scoffs, and it's at that moment that Zoya knows he'll shoot her without hesitating. There's nothing of her brother in the sound, nothing of her brother in his face, and her heart sinks low enough that it's a wonder crimson doesn't pool underneath the soles of her boots.

            "The Ayaan you knew died on Endor," he snarls, and pulls the trigger.

But Zoya fires at the same time, first by a millisecond. Her bolt burns with a loud sizzle through Ayaan's torso just as his own shot spirals across the space between them. Pain erupts, burrowing a scorching, searing trail through Zoya's thigh. She crumples to the ground in a heap as lightning bolts surge through her leg, a strangled scream wrenching itself from her mouth as she sees Ayaan fall. Her shriek shatters the skies; pieces of it fall down around her in blazing cerulean as she curls into herself, tears scorching her eyes from both the agony writhing red hot in her leg and the sight of her brother unmoving on the ground, the wound in his chest spilling smoke.

Her throat closes as she sobs, tears carving through the soot on her cheeks. Nothing coherent comes from her lips, nothing understandable, and the pain in her leg is nothing compared to the torturous burn burrowing through her heart, almost as if she's shot herself instead of her brother.

Zoya rolls onto her side, fingers digging into the dirt. A cry rips from her mouth as she tries to pull herself forward, her injured leg dragging uselessly through the dust behind her.

Across the square, Din whirls with the cannon in his hands, his eyes finding Zoya collapsed on the ground, gray anguish deteriorating the colors of her eyes—and a body behind her. His moment of distraction, though brief, is enough. Moff Gideon fires twice; the first shot rebounds off his helmet with a loud clang and a grunt huffing from Din's chest. But the second, the second shot lands upon a heavy box of ammunition set in front of the Mandalorian's feet.

            Then the world explodes.

            A cataclysm of fire and ash and debris rockets through the air, hurtling Din back like he weighs less than a feather. He plummets into the ground with a loud thud and lays there, unmoving and eerily still.

And Zoya feels as if her heart is ripped in two.

A cry shreds her throat as it pushes forth, and she drags herself an inch further, gritting her teeth against the agony in her leg.

IG-11 begins firing rapidly towards Moff Gideon and the Stormtroopers, along with Greef and Cara, who has emerged from the cantina, smaller blaster in her hand. She yells something to Greef that Zoya doesn't catch, a dull ringing piercing her ears. Nearly simultaneously, the two shove their weapons into their holsters, and while Cara runs to Din, Greef sprints to Zoya. Though worry is etched into his face, his hands are strong and sure as he lifts her off the ground, handling her injured leg as carefully as he can in his rush.

Zoya twists her head as she clings to the Guild leader, trying to see Din. "Please—Greef," she says hoarsely. "Please—"

"I know, sweetheart," he mutters, rushing towards the cantina. "I know."

IG-11 manages to cover them as Greef ducks inside the building with Zoya in his arms, Cara dragging Din not far behind. Once they're all safely past the doorway, the droid hits a button, and the barrier slides shut, protecting them from the blaster fire hailing across the square from the Death troopers and Stormtroopers.

Greef sets Zoya down carefully by the wall, but she doesn't even notice the pain in her leg. Tears mottle her cheeks with mosaics of glittering diamonds; her brows pull together as Cara heaves Din across the floor.

"Stay with me, buddy," she grits out. "We're gonna get you out of here." Carefully, she rests him upon the ground, leaning him back on a piece of rubble.

Greef glances towards the sewers. "This is our only path out! Can you clear it?"

As IG-11 crosses to help clear the opening of debris, Zoya inches across the floor with a hiss, dragging herself closer to Din.

She grasps his hand, lips trembling. "You idiot," she mutters, but there's no bite behind the words, and her voice cracks. "Get the hell up."

Behind them, the droid carefully sets down the child. "If you go near this child, I will have no choice but to kill you," the droid tells Greef bluntly.

"I understand," Greef replies, annoyed. "Can you do anything to move the grate?"

"Yes, of course." IG-11 kneels, and sparks glow in front of him as he begins to work on the seal.

Training his blaster forward, Greef shakes his head. "I love IG units."

Din groans, head shifting slightly to one side. "I'm not gonna make it," he says roughly, voice strained. "Go."

"Shut up," Cara says, and Zoya grits her teeth even as another tear drips from her eyes. "You just got your bell rung. You'll be fine."

"Leave me," Din whispers.

"No," Zoya protests, shaking her head vehemently. "No, we can't."

Cara pulls her hand away from the back of Din's helmet then, and at the sight of the crimson dripping in rivulets across her palm, Zoya freezes. Her stare flicks up to meet Cara's, darting between the ex-shock trooper's eyes as if looking for a different answer other than the one that stains the woman's palm, scarlet and angry.

"Fuck," Cara says lowly, staring at Din's helmet. "I'm gonna need to take this thing off."

"No." His hand slams onto hers where it touches the bottom of his helmet. Though his voice is shaky, his resolve is firm. "You leave me. You make sure the child is safe. You make sure Zoya lives, and you fix her leg. Here," he says, yanking something free from the clasp of his cloak. "When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that. You tell them it's from Din Djarin. You tell them the foundling was in my protection, and they'll help you."

"We can make it," Cara denies, but she takes the silver charm nonetheless.

"Din, please," Zoya whimpers. She can barely speak around the lump in her throat. "Please, I can't do this without you. I can't, I can't—" Her breaths thin as her airways seem to close up, and panic wreathes around her like a second skin. "Please don't go. P-Please. I can't lose you. Please stay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please."

Din reaches up with some effort to catch her hand, trying to calm her as the words spill from her lips, water past a ruptured dam. "Zoya," he tells her softly. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," she cries, and squeezes his gloved hand, wishing that they had more time, "it's not okay. I can't lose you too, I can't."

Losing Ayaan just as she'd found him again—and by her own hand—is a dagger through her heart, and Din's injury that seems almost catastrophic, his willingness to stay behind and let himself perish, is too much, and everything that's been holding Zoya in place for years begins to splinter and crack.

"You'll always have me," he says softly.

"This isn't the time to get sappy," Cara says, but her tone doesn't match the playful words. "Come on, get up! Let's go!" She pulls at Din, trying to get him up.

"I'm not gonna make it, and you know it," he pushes out.

Cara doesn't have time for another rebuke before fire roars through the cantina's broken window, blistering hot and all the colors of an erupting phoenix as it fills the room. Zoya careens forward, catching herself before she hits Din's chest, coughing as smoke infiltrates her lungs with hazy black fingers.

Flames crackle at the walls even when the fire stops pouring through the window, burning brightly in the darkness and rebounding off the sooty surface of Din's Beskar.

            "Protect the child," Din says. "I can hold them back long enough for you to escape. Let me have a warrior's death."

            "I won't leave you," Cara snaps.

            Zoya stares at him. "None of us will."

            "This is the Way." He looks to Zoya, how deathly beautiful she looks with smoke stains on her cheeks and tears in her eyes, hair a rumpled mess. He catches her fingers, one last time. "Before you go," Din whispers, "can you do one last thing for me?"

            Zoya shakes her head vehemently, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm not going. I'm staying. Right. Here." With her other hand, Zoya wipes furiously at her face, choking on her breath as it leaves her lungs.

            "Zoya—"

            A plume of fire jets through the doorway, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Zoya laces her fingers tighter through his, tucking her head down against his chest and keeping her eyes shut tightly, even as a darkened figure appears in the haze of flames, Death's henchman. Fate looms, casting an obsidian shadow across the cantina.

And maybe, Zoya realizes, this is to be their end.

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remember when we were happy and soft way back in chapter 10? huh. i miss that. 😔✌🏻 anyways this was a PIECE to write, i don't like hurting my bby but it must be done.