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It was a sunny day out, Harry thought grumpily as he stared out the window at his cousin and his friends play outside in the garden. They were running around, spraying each other with water guns, not a care in the world. Harry wished he could play too, but he knew better than to ask. If he did, he knew his cousin and friends would want to play “Harry Hunting”, and he’d get hurt, and then Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would be mad he hadn’t finished cleaning the kitchen, and then he’d be locked in his cupboard and not allowed out for a few days unless it was to clean or cook them breakfast.
With a sigh, Harry picked up his dirty, wet rag from where he’d dropped it in the bucket filled with soapy water, and began scrubbing at a stain on the floor that he couldn’t get with his mop the last time he’d scrubbed the room. While Aunt Petunia hadn’t noticed, he didn’t want to risk her fury, and it would be easier to scrub it now and avoid any punishment then risk it for a few minutes play time. Dudley’s birthday was tomorrow and the house had to be spotless for the party. Harry knew he had a birthday, and that it was in July, but that was all he knew. Unlike Dudley he never got a big party or lots of toys, but twice a year his Aunt and Uncle would give him a pound coin and maybe some of Dudley’s hand-me-down clothes or toys if he was lucky.
His mind wandered as he scrubbed, thinking about all the games he could play if he had a few minutes or toys he would buy if he had money. At school they had these small brick toys called Legos they could play with sometimes if they were good, and one time another kid in his class helped him make a huge tower out of them once. Of course, Dudley then broke the tower, and then made all the other kids realise he was a freak, and then he never got to play with them again, but if he had money, Harry thought he’d like to play with Legos again.
A sudden shriek of laughter from outside caught his attention, and Harry sighed again. It was unfair that he always had to clean, why couldn’t Dudley help? But Harry knew better than to say it that out loud, the one time he did he didn’t get to eat for three days. Dudley and his friends ran into the kitchen, dripping water all over the floor. Without even a glance at Harry, they ran through the room, seemingly heading out the front door to go play at someone else’s house.
Harry finally managed to get the stain of the floor and his sat back on his knees, grinning triumphantly. He stood up and reached for the towel he left on the kitchen counter, and quickly dried the floor, both where he’d been working and anywhere the other boys had run through, it wouldn’t do for someone to fall and hurt themselves. Well, he thought, unless it was Uncle Vernon, in which case Harry wouldn’t really mind, but then he’d just get punished for not cleaning the house well enough, or being a freak or whatever other reason the man would come up with.
His chores done for now, he wondered what to do until his aunt came home. Maybe he did have time to play after all. He ran to his cupboard and grabbed one of the few toys he had to his name, a small army toy, and imagined that he was a general leading a war against bad guys (played by his faithful spider friend), and that he could save everybody like a superhero. Or maybe he’d be like one of characters in that film uncle Vernon liked, where a cowboy saves a village all by himself and marries a beautiful woman and they live happily ever after. Harry could do that, he thought. He was a big boy after all, and he was going to be six soon. And he even had a name now, unlike last year when he thought his name was Boy or Freak. Yeah, he wondered, I can be just like that. But, freaks couldn’t be heroes, he remembered. Maybe if he stopped being one he could, but Uncle Vernon said he’d always be a freak. He returned to his game, a lot less enthusiastic.
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Many lightyears away, a Mandalorian bounty hunter was sitting in the pilot chair of his old pre-empire Razor Crest, wondering what to do. His latest job had gone way, way south and now he was in a bind. Despite being one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy, this wasn’t the first time he’d been in this situation, and now that he’d made it safely off planet and into space he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was followed by more of his bounty’s buddies. He needed to lay low for a week or so, just to throw them off his tail, then he’d pick up his final bounty (some Mythrol who was in a lot of debt to Karga), return to Nevarro, get his credits from Karga, and he’d visit the covert. Now the question was where should he go to get away for a few weeks. Wild space or obscure planet? He wondered to himself as he quickly scanned his coordinates. He was fairly close to wild space as it was, and while no trackers could find him there, if he needed to refuel or get repairs it was borderline impossible in most cases. On the other hand, any planet he considered even remotely safe for hiding on that could provide those services was on the other end of the galaxy. 'What’s a bit more adventure?' the Mandalorian asked himself as he pulled the thruster to full speed, put up as much stealth shields as his poor ship could manage, and headed straight for wild space.
*************************
In hindsight the Mandalorian got very lucky, and his landing could have gone much, much worse. After 2 days of continuous flying, the Mandalorian finally managed to find a suitable planet to land on. Good news: the planet’s atmosphere was perfectly breathable. Bad news: the planet was occupied (strangely by what appeared to be baseline humans), and they were starting to enter their early space age if the various crude satellites he saw in orbit were as crude as he thought they were. More good news: the population on this planet was probably advanced enough to be able to provide some sort of fuel for his ship if needed, and wouldn’t be advanced enough to see his ship through his various shields or track him down to wherever he landed. He was in no way qualified to initiate first contact between the New Republic and this strange, isolated planet.
He flew into the planet’s atmosphere and landed in the first suitable area he found, a clearing in a small woods not too far away from what civilisation the planet had. Luckily, it was already dark by the time he entered the atmosphere, allowing him to land without being spotted.
The Mandalorian sighed and disengaged the engine, thrusters, and most of his shielding. Seeing as this planet was early space age, he couldn’t have the locals finding his ship, so he left a very basic and clunky perception filter running. He ran a basic scan to find any urgent problems with his ship, and made a note of the low water reserve. Checking the position of the moon in the sky, the bounty hunter realised that he likely had a few hours before daylight, and that it was unlikely that he would be able to find work for local currency to get fuel at this hour.
He stood slowly from his chair and left the cockpit, heading down to the small storage area that made up most of his living space. He grabbed one of the ka’ra stars cursed ration bars that made up an unfortunate percentage of his diet, carefully placed his helmet on a nearby crate, and ate. The best plan, he decided, would be to sleep for a few hours and head towards what he thought were houses tomorrow, and quietly observe the locals. It would be difficult to be stealthy with his shiny helmet and brightly painted armour, but he had managed before, and knew that the best way to deal with the stares was to ignore them and act like you’re supposed to be there. Hopefully he could figure out where to get some water (most planets capable of supporting life had plenty of the stuff, and he could always sterilise and filter it himself if needs must), and work out some way to pay or trade for it. It seemed he could wait until he was off planet once more to refuel, and it would require a stop on the first suitable outer rim planet he came across to avoid putting the wrong type into his engines.
*************************
Harry was having one of the best days of his very young life so far. His Aunt and Uncle were busy pampering and spoiling Dudley, and wanted him out of the way for the rest of the day. His uncle told him to “get lost and go play outside or something Freak, and keep your unnaturalness away from the house for the rest of the day!”, and not to comeback until he was sure everybody had left. He was also warned that Aunt Marge was coming over, and if he got eaten from waking one of her dogs that was his fault.
Harry was happy to do exactly what his uncle told him to do, and after grabbing his toy soldier from his cupboard he ran right out the door in the direction of the park only a few streets away from his aunt and uncle’s house. Once he was there, he stared wide eyed at all the toys he could play on. Despite the sunny weather the park was completely empty, most of the kids who normally played there were back at Dudley’s party.
He debated what to play with first, but quickly decided on the swing. He’d never been on one before, but he’d seen Dudley and his friends on one before, and he knew how you were meant to use them. He sat on the chair and grabbed onto the chains. He looked down and realised something, his legs were much shorter than Dudley’s. He probably couldn’t go very fast or high then, that was sad but he’d still try. Giving himself a few gentle practice swings he giggled. This was why people liked them! Just as he was wondering if he should try going faster or if he should drop down and try out the slide or roundabout he felt like he was being watched. Snapping his head in the direction the stare was coming from he saw…well he wasn’t quite sure.
There was a person standing there, at least Harry thought they were a person. They were wearing a set of armour painter in red and browns, and their helmet was so shiny the sun was bouncing right off it. Harry thought they looked like a character straight out of one of those action films the boys in his class were always taking about, on his way to save a women in distress. They also seemed…strange. When Harry looked at them, the strange feeling that had guided Harry all his life was quiet, and if Harry didn’t know better, he’d think there was nobody there.
“Um, hello,” said Harry with a wave. Aunt Petunia always said to be polite, and if they really were one of those action heroes then they were probably nice, right?
The helmeted person tilted their head and gave a cautious wave back, before looking around the park. Seeing nobody else, they turned to look back at Harry, as if trying to figure out a puzzle.
“Uh, can I help you mister? Or ma’am? Or well whoever you are,” Harry rambled. “If you need help I can help you, the teachers at school say you should help others, but grown-ups don’t normally need help. I don’t think…”
As if completely bemused the helmeted person shook their head and tapped on the side of their helmet, responding with a short sentence that Harry didn’t understand. Maybe it was another language? Harry knew that lots of people didn’t speak English, maybe this stranger just didn’t understand? There was a Polish boy in his class last year, and he spoke Polish as well as English. Harry didn’t speak any Polish, so he hoped that wasn’t the language the stranger spoke.
“Oh, can you understand me?” he asked the stranger. Thankfully, the stranger nodded.
“I can,” they replied, but their voice sounder weird, kind of more like a robot than a person.
Harry jumped down off the swing, and made his way closer to the stranger. “Are you a robot?” he asked as he looked over the stranger again.
“No,” they tensed up as Harry came nearer. “Why would you think that?”
“’Cos your voice kinda sounds like a robot, and you’re wearing a lot of metal.”
The stranger shook his head. “No, I just sound like that because of the software in my helmet.”
“Really!” Harry shouted. “That’s cool. I’ve never seen a real helmet before, but I thought that they were just metal not- not sof- sof..”
“Software,” the stranger repeated, and Harry could nearly hear the smile in their voice. “My helmet has a lot of technology in it. My voice sounds strange because I’m using a translator to speak to you, my voice doesn’t sound like this normally.”
“Cool!” Harry paused. “What does a translator do?”
“It translates the language I’m speaking into your language, and yours into mine, so I can understand you.”
“That’s awesome! There’s a boy in my class at school who had to learn English when he moved here from Poland, bet he wished he had a helmet like that!”
The stranger crouched down to be face to face with Harry, or well- helmet to face. “Is that so kid?”
Harry frowned, “My name’s Harry, not kid. And I’m not a baby, I’m five, and I'll be six soon!”
“Alright then Harry,” the stranger nodded. “Do you mind me asking you a few questions?”
“Um, sure I guess, at school the teachers say we should help others.”
The stranger nodded as if Harry had given very wise advice. “That’s right. Now, why are you out here on your own? Where are your parents?”
“I don’t have parents.” he told them. “I live with my aunt and uncle and cousin, and they’re busy, so I was told to go play outside for the day.”
The stranger tensed slightly. “Is that right?”
“Hmm, it’s my cousin Dudley’s birthday, which means I can’t be at the house until everybody leaves. I don’t mind though,” he rushes to add. “I like being out here playing much more than doing chores for them or hiding in my cupboard until people leave!”
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A slave, the Mandalorian’s mind hissed. This child was being used as a slave by the people who were supposed to be caring for him, or at the very least being horribly abused by them. Demagolke people who commit atrocties, monsters. Mando was very grateful for the helmet, as the ad kid in front of him couldn’t see his absolutely outraged face.
Then there was the child’s size, if he hadn’t been told that the ad kid was five years old (which was seemingly more or less equivalent to five galactic standard years old), Mando would have thought that the child was much younger, maybe three or barley four. And sweet ka’ra stars don’t even get him started on the very distressing mention of “hiding in my cupboard”. Battle hardened warrior the Mandalorian might be, but he is first and foremost a Mandalorian foundling, and just hearing the words coming from this little boy’s mouth and seeing the poor quality clothes draping off the boys too small frame is enough for him to fight the urge to grab the boy and run with him back to the covert and make sure he is adopted by a nice Mandalorian who’ll take care of him. It was only years of hunting experience that prevented him from doing that, that told him he needed to observe the situation for more evidence, and make a calm, informed decision.
“Well Harry, how about you stay with me today, and help me out. When were done we can come back here and play together, and then I’ll bring you home, okay?”
Harry beamed. “Okay! I need somebody to help push me on the swing anyway, and I like helping people. Aunt Petunia always saws that if a stranger offers to take me with them I should always go.”
What. The. Actual. Kriff. Forcing his voice to be soft and calm, he said, “Don’t worry about us taking long, I just need you to tell me where I can buy supplies.”
“Supplies?” the boy questions.
“Food, water, stuff like that.”
The kid tilts his head in thought. “Oh! There’s shops not that far away from here, and sometimes Aunt Petunia goes to the market, but it’s not always there. I can show you where they are.”
“Alright, and this might be strange but what type of currency is used here?”
“Currency?” he questioned.
“Money?”
“Oh, uh the pound. All the money had the Queen’s face on it, and some are small metal coins and other are big notes, my Aunt and Uncle have a lot, but I only have a few pence, and it’s at home.”
Mando hummed in understanding, once more trying to control his anger. He wasn’t sure what “pence” were, but he got the idea that it was probably the smallest amount of currency. “That’s alright kid, I don’t need your money, just to know where to find some of my own.”
Here the kid was completely lost. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“That’s alright kid,” he repeated. I do, he thought, but didn’t say out loud. That way may or may not involve breaking into the kid’s house and holding his relatives at gunpoint for any valuables, getting his supplies, and taking the kid as far away from the planet as possible, preferably back to Nevarro.
He once again reminded himself not to be too hasty. The ad kid would be scarred for life and there’s no way he would go with the Mandalorian if he did that.
On second thought, maybe the technology here was advanced enough to have some form of electric payment. If it was it wouldn’t be too much work to hack a very primitive online banking service to buy goods. It’s not like he’d be sticking around long enough to get caught, and the amount of “pounds” he’d be stealing wouldn’t be missed much. His datapad would probably be able to do the slicing for him anyway, or the data spike he'd use it to make anyway. All he’d need to do is to bring a container for the water, and maybe a bag to pick up some extra supplies if possible. Getting some fresh food was a good idea, and he’d have to check if this planet had any food that could be stored long term, some sort of canned fruit or preserved meat would be perfect. His ship was pressurised and insulated, so it probably wouldn’t expire during the journey.
Speaking of food, he glanced at the too thin boy in front of him. “Hey kid, have you eaten yet?” The boy only shook his head in response.
“Well then,” Mando said, “why don’t you come with me, and I’ll get you something to eat? I can’t promise it’ll taste great, but it’ll be edible.”
“Really?” the boy tensed and suddenly looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”
Glad that the child had some self-preservation instincts, he responded with a simple “Aren’t you hungry?”
“I mean, yes but-“
“Then I’ll feed you,” the bounty hunter said seriously. “It’s not the Way to let an ad'ika kid, son (affectionate) go hungry, and you’ve been a big help today. Consider it a reward for a job well done.”
Appeased knowing he’d earned the food by helping him, if a bit confused at what exactly an “ad’ika” is or “the Way”, the child relaxed. Raising from his crouch, the Mandalorian held his hand out to the child.
The ad (kid) stared back at him, glancing between the offered hand and the masked face staring at him. Trying not to think about a similar moment between himself and his late buir, the Mandalorian flexed his fingers. “Come on then kid, let’s go get you some food.”
*************************
Cautiously, for the first time that he remembered in his life, Harry reached out and held an adult’s hand. Marveling at how much bigger the stranger’s hands were, he stared up at them. They lowered their joined hands and gave Harry’s a gentle squeeze, and gently started leading them back in the direction Harry saw them come from.
“Where are we going?” he asked. The shops were the other way, and Harry knew that all that was in this direction was a small woods that he never liked playing in. It was dark in there, and lonely, and very easy to get lost.
“To my…home,” the stranger said. “I’ll get you some food, grab some stuff, then we can head out.”
“Home? I didn’t think anyone lived out here. Dudley says that there’s nothing out in the forest other than monsters that like to hunt and kill freaks like me.”
The stranger let out a strange noise and squeezed his hand tighter. “Dudley?”
“My cousin. It’s his birthday today, that’s why I’m allowed out to play today.”
“Yeah well,” the robotic voice of the stranger sounded nearly sharp. “Your cousin in a liar. There’s no monsters in there. I’ve checked.”
“And you live there too, so he’s super wrong!”
“Yeah ad'ika kid, son (affectionate),” the stranger laughed. “I live out there right now, but not for long.”
“Oh,” Harry said, sad at the idea of losing his new, shiny friend. At least, he thinks they’re his friend. Only nice people offer you food for so little work after all. “You’re leaving?”
The helmet nodded. “Either tonight or early tomorrow, and my home will leave with me.”
“How does a house leave with you?”
“Not a house,” the stranger corrected. “My home.”
They were already inside the forest, Harry realised, and were making their way towards a small open area he remembered playing in before. His school brought them out to have a small picnic here once, and lots of kids brought their toys or teddy bears with them. Dudley brought lots of toys, and the teacher had been very angry for some reason when he turned up with none and his cousin had lots of toys. Either way, there definitely wasn’t a house there.
When they entered the clearing, it was exactly as Harry knew it would be, completely empty. Not a single blade of grass was out of place, and Harry couldn’t see a tent or anywhere else the stranger could live.
“Um, sir?” Harry asked, fairly sure that this stranger was a man by now. “There’s nothing-“
Before he could even finish what he was saying, the stranger released Harry’s hand and pressed a button on the armour covering his lower arm. Suddenly, as if the air itself was shimmering, a giant metal structure appeared. It was huge, and Harry had no idea what he was looking at. It looked a lot like a small airplane or helicopter, and yet nothing like those things at all. He stared up in awe at the stranger who made it appear out of thin air like- like magic.
“This is my home,” they stated, and Harry got the impression that they found his reaction very funny for some reason. “My spaceship.”
“Spaceship!” Harry gasped. “You’re an alien!”
Their voice made a strange sound and their shoulders shook. “Maybe by your planet’s standards. I’m human.”
“How’d you make it appear like that, was it-,” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Was it magic?”
The stranger shook his head. “No, just very clever technology. Now,” he pressed another button on his wrist and a huge ramp came down the side of the ship, creating a way to enter. “Let’s get you fed.”
*************************
The Mandalorian watched with amusement as the ad kid explored the inside of his ship. It was strange to see others appreciate it, when it was notoriously mocked and believed to be a death trap by the standards of most New Republic citizens. He had led Harry into the small cargo area, and the boy was practically vibrating with his excitement.
He walked over to a crate where he kept his rations, and paused after opening it. “You allergic to anything kid?” The boy just shook his head in response as he gazed around the cramped room in awe.
Pulling out one of the better tasting ration bars he ripped the packaging open and held it out to the boy. Harry looked at it cautiously and looked back into the visor of his helmet. “It’s a ration bar,” he explained. “Can’t promise they taste all that nice but they’re perfectly safe for humans to eat.”
Harry gingerly took it, and the disgusted face he made after taking a bite of it would stay in his mind until the day he joined the manda afterlife, heaven. “It’s horrible!”
“It’s a field ration. They’re not meant to taste good. That’s one of the nicer ones.”
The boy grudgingly accepted this and ate his bar in silence. While he ate, the Mandalorian began a search for his datapad and a large bag to carry supplies in. The bag he found quickly, but his datapad was missing. He swore it was down in the cargo area last he used it. He never takes it into the cockpit, and his sleeping bunk is so small that he never brought it with him to bed out of fear of crushing it in his sleep or dropping it down under the mattress somehow and then he’d never see the thing again. Eventually, it turned up on the top shelf of the armoury.
“Wow,” Harry gasped when he opened it. “Are those all weapons?”
“Yeah,” he told them. “And you are not to touch anything in there unless I say so.” The Mandalorian promptly closed and locked the armoury once again.
“Why do you have so many?”
“I’m Mandalorian,” was the bounty hunters only response. When the child just stared at him blankly instead of staring at him in awe or in fear as most younglings would, the Mandalorian had a realisation.
This adiik child aged 3 to 13 was from wild space. He had no idea what a Mandalorian was, or the Empire or New Republic. The only planet he knew about was his home world, and at a push the name of a few planets in his solar system. He had no idea about sentient races that weren’t humans, and had probably never left the country he was born in, never mind travel off planet. The kid didn’t speak Galactic Basic, or Mando’a, or any sign language that the Mandalorian could communicate in. It was nothing short of a miracle that his helmet still had a functioning self-learning translator, which had been a modification by his buir when the hunter received his first bounty job, seeing as the Mandalorian never used it or serviced it, thinking it a horrible idea to rely on technology rather than learning the most common languages yourself and never being at a disadvantage if the translator breaks.
How the kriff will he explain this to the Armourer? She’d definitely approve taking the boy off planet with him, he knew. He was a foundling with nobody to care for him, clearly in an abusive home, and in dire need of a someone to intervene. Whatever passed as this planet’s child services had clearly failed Harry.
Shaking his head slightly, he turned back to the boy. “My people, we’re called Mandalorians. We’re warriors, and weapons are a part of our religion.”
The boy nodded as if that makes sense, but he still looked a bit confused. “Is that why you’re wearing the helmet?”
“Exactly ad'ika kid, son (affectionate),” he said. “It’s part of our creed. When you put it on, you can’t take it off again.”
“Ever?” Harry gasped.
“Well, no. You can remove it to eat, or sleep, or in front of family.” He admitted. Heading towards the child he held out his free hand once more. “You done eating kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Then come on,” he ordered. “We have a mission to complete.”
*************************
If all missions were that fun, Harry didn’t know why more people didn’t go on them. The Mandalorian held his hand all the way to the shops. They passed a few neighbours, and they all stared at the heavily armoured man beside him, but strangely nobody came up to them or bothered him. The Mandalorian used what he told Harry was a datapad to make a “data spike” to “slice” an ATM for money, then he took him to the market that was being held a few streets over.
First he took Harry over to a small clothing stand, and told Harry to pick out a jacket, two shirts, two pairs of trousers, and pyjamas for himself. When he asked why, the man only responded that it was payment for a job well done, and his current clothes didn’t look like they fit him right. Harry nearly cried right there, but his Aunt and Uncle had trained him better than that, so he just said thank you instead. The Mandalorian also bought him a packet of underwear and socks before they left the stand.
Afterwards, he asked Harry to help him buy food to take with him on his trip (in a real spaceship!). The entire time they were shopping he kept asking Harry what types of food he liked, and ended up buying a decent amount of tinned fruit and vegetables, rice, pasta, three large containers of water, and even some sweets which the man handed him for “Being so well behaved in there kid.”
By the that point, the Mandalorian’s hands were beyond full and it was afternoon. Still, the Mandalorian led them to one final stop before heading back to the ship: the toy shop. Harry had never been inside a toyshop before, and the stranger had told him to pick out any toy he wanted, but warned Harry that he’d have to be able to carry it himself. Harry had barely been able to contain himself in his excitement, and rushed around the store prodding and examining everything he saw, before he decided on a Lego set similar to the one they had in school. It was the best day of Harry’s life, and Harry didn’t understand why people kept giving the stranger weird looks everywhere they went that day. He didn’t get it, didn’t they see that the Mandalorian was so nice and good?
The Mandalorian led him back to his ship, and no sooner had they entered that the strange sense of excitement and adventure that had followed Harry the whole day seem to leave him. The strange man (alien?) had Harry set down the food inside some large crates, and Harry realised that his new friend was leaving soon, and he’d probably never see the strange man again.
With the food put away and the large water bottles placed in a crate of their own for the moment, the ship fell silent.
The Mandalorian cleared his throat, and mirroring their first meeting earlier that same day, he knelt down in front of Harry, and held out his hand. Harry stared at the hand carefully. “Thanks for your help today ad'ika kid, son (affectionate).”
Oh, Harry thought. He recognised this. He took the Mandalorian’s hand and shook it gently. “You’re welcome.”
The silence in the air felt tense, and a strange feeling told Harry to stay quiet, that there was more to be said. Sure enough the Mandalorian spoke, and in a serious voice told Harry, “You’re a good kid Harry, don’t believe a word your Aunt and Uncle have told you.”
When Harry tried to protest this, he was silenced by the stranger squeezing his hand gently. “My people, we-“ they started. “We have a word for children like you, we call them foundlings. Children who are lost and need help, and are found by someone willing to give it. Some foundlings are runaways from bad homes, some are children with no parents or family to care for them.” The strange man took a deep breath that was audible even through his helmet. “Like me. I was a foundling.”
Harry stared in awe at them. This man was like him, he understood. He understood what it was like to be different from everyone else, who had parents who loved them, who tucked them into bed at night and played with them. “You’re like me.”
The Mandalorian nodded. “And like when I was little and the Mandalorians took me in and cared for me,” he paused for a second, before saying (nervously his strange feeling told Harry) “I am offering the same to you.”
Harry’s brain went quiet at that. At first he didn’t think he understood. “What?”
“I’m leaving tonight, a few hours from now. And I can take you with me,” he said seriously. “If that’s what you want.”
“I-,” he gasped. “I don’t have to go back? To My Aunt and Uncle and cousin?”
The strange man shook his head, and it was like the world was shouting at him to say yes. Love-safe-care-happy-safe-trust, it seemed to yell at him. Tears filled Harry’s eyes and he knew what his answer would be.
He threw himself at the strange man, the Mandalorian who bought him clothes, and toys, and fed him his strange disgusting food, and shown Harry more kindness in a day than he ever got from his aunt and uncle. The strange man with the spaceship that could rescue him from his Aunt and Uncle forever, and take his far, far away to be safe. The strange man that understood him. He hugged him tight, and the Mandalorian grunted in surprise, but patted his back carefully and returned the hug as best as he could.
“Please, please!” he said through his tears, and the Mandalorian’s grip tightened.
“Of course, ad'ika kid, son (affectionate). I promise.”