Forgiveness

"It was you!" Bossk hisses. "You led the lizards here!"

"N-no!" Dia scrambles backwards on his branch, towards the flimsy end. "I didn't, I swear!"

"Betrayer," Aurra spits with a fearsome glare. "You cut your arm to lure them!"

Dia glances down at the stalker lizards, pacing in a frenzy as they taste the fear in the air. "No! Please, I didn't – !" 

Aurra shoots the branch beside Dia, startling him. His foot slips, and, with a terrified yelp, he topples from the tree. His arm lurches to grab the branch, but not quickly enough.

He hits the ground, pain rocketing through him. With a winded gasp, he struggles onto his stomach, only to see the lizards charging towards him, hissing in vicious delight.

Dia is going to die. He's going to die and he can't so much as blink as the slavering lizards rush closer.

A flash of purple light nearly blinds Dia, along with a whirr and a disgusting squelch of flesh. As the spots clear from Dia's eyes, he sees the decapitated corpses of the stalker lizards sway and collapse to the ground an arm's reach away.

Hands pluck Dia up from the ground. He doesn't have the presence of mind to struggle before he's pressed against warm, beige robes. The person carrying him easily in both arms grins down at him brightly.

Dia's jaw drops, but he suddenly remembers how he ended up here, and twists to look up at the tree.

Aurra and Bossk hit the ground, groaning.

A handful of clones rush forward, grabbing and handcuffing the bounty hunters, while the rest of the regiment scans the trees for any other enemies. The one carrying Dia must be a Jedi, he realizes, and he sees another directing the clones nearby.

A hundred thoughts crowd Dia's mind – relief that he's in one piece, fear that the Grand Army are hardly an upgrade from the bounty hunters – but one is most prominent: Where's Boba?

"Dia!" a familiar voice cries.

Dia peers frantically over beige-robed arms. "Boba!"

The Jedi holding Dia sinks to their knees, and there he is. Safe, unharmed, face scrunched in concern. Boba's warm hand closes over Dia's, and Dia clutches it like a lifeline.

"Are you alright?" Boba asks. His eyes skip over Dia's face to his bandaged, bloodied arm, and his expression twists.

"I'm fine," Dia mumbles, a relieved chuckle escaping him, maybe a little delirious. He's lost a lot of blood, after all.

"I'll take him to a medic," the Jedi says.

Boba nods, and releases Dia's hand. As the Jedi stands, Dia reaches back for Boba with a frown.

"Do not worry," the Jedi says gently, beginning to walk. "You are safe."

---

Clones flank Boba on all sides as they return to the base camp, perhaps worrying he will try and run for it.

The Nautolan Jedi, Fisto, went ahead with Dia to the medic's tent, and a few clones are herding the fuming Aurra and Bossk into the temporary holding cell. As she snarls at one of them, Aurra catches Boba's eye. Her lips curl back in a sneer, and her eyes bore into him with bloodthirsty vengeance.

Boba can't suppress his shudder, and forces himself to turn away. His expression drops even further as he sees Windu walking towards him.

"What do you want?" he mutters.

Surprising Boba, Windu crouches in front of him, his expression somber. "I want to apologize for your father's death."

Boba's mind goes blank. "Huh?" He's… apologizing? But…

"I believed it necessary to end the conflict we were faced with," Windu continues. "Perhaps it wasn't. But I am sorry for depriving you of your father. I understand why you tried to kill me, but I hope you understand involving innocents isn't the right way."

Boba scoffs in disbelief and his anger returns in full force. "I don't forgive you," he declares. "I can't."

"Hm." Windu's expression is infuriatingly inscrutable as he studies Boba's furious glare. "Well, you're going to have to."

With that, he stands and walks away, leaving Boba as confused as he is angry.

________

Medics scurry from cot to cot, and pained groans sound throughout the tent. Some clones are curled up, faces tight with pain, while others lie almost too still. Still carrying Dia, Fisto steps out of the way of a medic sprinting past with an armful of bloody rags. Another medic hurries up to Dia and Fisto.

"General," the medic greets them. He's not wearing his helmet, and his face looks weary.

"This little one needs medical attention," Fisto says.

The medic looks at Dia, and the blood seeping through the cloth on his arm. His expression softens. "Right away, sir. Follow me."

Fisto follows the medic to a quieter part of the tent, curtained off from the rest.

"What's your name?" the medic asks kindly as he draws the curtain back.

"Dia. What's yours?"

"I'm Stickers."

Stickers helps Dia up onto a crate, his feet dangling well off the floor. Fisto hovers to the side while Stickers sits on another crate and carefully peels back the blood-soaked cloth from Dia's arm. His face is impassive as he takes a damp cloth from a basin of warm water and gently cleans off the blood. With the excess blood out of the way, he inspects the wound.

"Alright. You'll need stiches and it'll definitely scar, but you'll recover." He releases Dia's arm and opens a box of supplies. "So how did you get injured?"

"I used a vibroblade," Dia explains sheepishly. "It was to lure the stalker lizards over."

The medic pauses, leveling Dia with a look of disbelief. "Well… don't do anything like that again. You're lucky you didn't hit an artery."

"What's an artery?" Dia asks, tilting his head.

Stickers explains, kindly and patiently, and narrates what he's doing to treat Dia's wound. He injects Dia's arm with a numbing agent that only hurts a little, then prepares stitching thread and a needle.

He pauses before starting, and warns, "It might be best if you look away."

Dia obeys, looking instead at Fisto, who smiles and says, "Is it alright if I ask you a few questions, Dia?"

Dia nods. He feels a weird tugging sensation on his arm, but resists the urge to look.

"How did you meet young Boba?" Fisto asks in a friendly tone.

"I saw his ship crash, and saved him from the Jawas."

"Jawas?" Fisto repeats. "Was this on Tatooine?" Dia nods. "I see. How long ago did you two meet?"

Dia tilts his head consideringly. "About a year ago?" He can hardly believe so much time has passed.

Fisto's expression turns thoughtful. "What is your name? Your full name."

Dia hesitates, but sees no harm in answering. "Din Diaro. On my homeworld, our surnames go first."

"And where is your homeworld?"

"Aq Vetina. There's not a lot of people there, but it's on the edge of Mandalorian space."

Fisto nods. "I see."

"The stiches are done," Stickers says, setting his tools aside. "I'll just put your arm in a sling for a day or two, alright?"

Dia nods, examining his newly-bandaged arm as Stickers guides it into a sling that loops around Dia's neck.

"Oh, you know what I think I have?" Stickers rummages in his bag for a moment, then produces a sheet of small, colourful stickers. "Here, you can have them."

"Thanks." Dia takes the stickers with a grin. "Hey, is this why you're called Stickers?"

"You got it," Stickers confirms with a wink. "Now, you be careful to not reopen that wound, okay? Don't strain yourself too much."

Dia nods. "I won't."

"Good. Commander Fisto, can I talk with you for a minute?" Stickers asks.

"Of course. Wait here, please, Dia."

The two retreat to a different corner of the tent, leaving Dia, still able to move the fingers of his slinged arm, to happily press colourful flower stickers to his other arm.

Fisto and Stickers return minutes later. Dia waves goodbye to Stickers as Fisto leads him out of the medical tent.

They return to the makeshift prison, where Dia finds Boba curled up in the corner of the cell, sulking.

Dia hops onto the bench next to him. He chews on his lip, trying to think of what to say.

"I'm sorry things didn't turn out well," he starts. "I know – "

"I don't want to talk about it," Boba mutters, his back turned.

"… What'll happen to us?" Dia asks quietly after a moment. The Jedi and the clones don't seem so bad, although he knows Boba will argue.

"Prison," Boba answers bluntly. "Probably on Coruscant."

"Oh."

"You might go free, though," Boba adds. "After all, you didn't do anything wrong, and you saved the hostages."

Dia frowns. "But – "

"Where'd you get those stickers?" Boba interrupts, finally turning around.

"Oh, the medic gave them to me." He holds out the sheet with a tentative smile. "Do you want any?"

Boba scoffs and hugs his knees to his chest. "Stickers are childish."

"That's dumb."

Rolling his eyes, Boba looks away. Dia peels off a tooka cat sticker and quickly presses it to Boba's arm.

"Hey!"

"What? It's cute, isn't it?" Dia presses a flower sticker Boba's cheek before he can dodge.

Boba protests half-heartedly, but he lets Dia add more stickers, until both of their arms and faces are adorned, and they both feel a bit better.