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"What did you say?" Din stood up from the booth and crossed his arms.
Grogu peered around him at the offender, brows creased.
"I said," loudly drawled the Balosar, still seated on his barstool, "your thune-eared green gremlin looks like undigested iriaz guts in a quenker's scughole.” He added, “Do us all a favor and take it back to wherever it came from, would you? I'm losing my appetite here."
Red seared his vison. "You're going to lose a lot more than that if your mouth keeps moving." His hand dropped to his holster.
The man sneered. “Go ahead, pull out your blaster. See how quickly you’ll get kicked out for disturbing the peace even more. Hah!” He looked around at the other diners, evidently trying to catch the gaze of someone who agreed with him.
All three people scattered around the small restaurant kept their gazes fixed firmly on their plates.
“The way I see it, you might fit that description better if you keep this up,” Din replied, voice low. His eyes flicked over to the two Aqualish employees behind the counter, who were growing more agitated as the conversation went on. He cocked his head at them in inquiry, but they seemed to misinterpret the gesture, for one promptly bolted to the back of the open kitchen while the other yelped and ducked behind the credit register.
The Balosar kept talking to anyone who would hear. “...am I right or am I right? I mean, just by looking at it you can tell it was fished out of some scugwater drain. If you ask me—”
“No one’s asking,” Din snapped. If those insults had been directed at him, he wouldn’t have bothered to give the man even a single glance. But being that the target was Grogu… Well. “And since you’re insisting, choose your weapon and step outside. I wouldn’t want to ruin any more appetites.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved dismissively and took a swing of his drink. “You go out first, then. I’m going to finish my food, and I just really can’t with that thing around.” He lifted the mug to his mouth again, lips twisted with a self-satisfied smirk.
Alright, that was it. Din’s fingers dipped into the holster and spun the blaster out before he could swallow.
The man made a strangled noise and coughed, wide eyes staring down the barrel. The bright orange liquid dribbled down his chin.
Din growled, “Out. Now.”
He gulped. His eyes frantically darted around.
Just then, Din felt something pull on his cape. Startled, he glanced down.
Grogu looked back up at him with a frown, standing on the booth’s cushioned seat. He tugged the cape again and muttered something under his breath.
"Hm?" Din bent down better to hear him, but kept both his eyes and blaster trained on his target.
“rstoieckkdm.”
"What, do you want more food?” he whispered back. “Now’s not really the time. I’m busy.”
“jkdsasvnkda,” was the response, said with a deeper frown and another tug. He pointed to the Balosar.
“Do you want… me to let him go?”
Grogu beamed.
“But he insulted you. I can’t let that slide.”
“sdfhehslg,” he insisted.
He sighed. “Fine. But we’re doing it my way then.” He straightened and continued in a louder voice, “So you’d rather deal with him yourself? I suppose that’s fair.”
The Balosar let out a nervous, incredulous laugh. “What? That?” His gaze jumped to Grogu, then Din, and then back to the blaster pointed at his chest.
“Where should we go, then? There’s a spot outside town that can work. The trees will provide nice sound insulation.”
The smile dropped.
Grogu gestured widely with his arms. “kabdfbarejkoi!”
“Of course, but with moderation. Keep in mind what happened to that Trandoshan last time.” Din shook his head. “I know you were angry but…”
“What—what happened to the Trandoshan?” he squeaked out.
Grogu giggled, probably amused by the man’s bugged-out eyes.
Din’s voice was solemn. “You don’t want to know.”
“Listen, I—” he started breathing fast— “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Din shared a glance with Grogu. “I think we both understood him just fine, don’t you think?”
Grogu’s smile widened. Somehow it was like the kid actually was playing along, the brilliant little womp rat.
“Come on, get moving.” Din gestured toward the door with a tilt of his helmet. “I don’t intend keep my partner here waiting any longer. The hungrier he gets…”
The Balosar jumped from his seat and fell to his knees. “Wait! Please, sir—sirs, I’m sorry I said that—I didn’t mean it, really! I’ve just had a really horrible day and—”
“And you thought you could just take out your irritation and insecurity on someone? Want to tell me how that’s justified?”
“It’s not, I know it’s not, I’m so sorry, sir. Please, please, don’t let him… eat me.” He sniffed and looked up imploringly at him. “I’ll never say anything like that again.”
Din shrugged. “It isn’t my call. Grogu?”
Grogu huffed. He scrambled onto the table and walked to its edge, eyeing the kneeling Balosar.
At his approach, the man leaned back as far as he could before his back hit the barstool behind him. He stared back at Grogu, his jaw slack with fear.
Grogu peered down at him with furrowed brows. After thinking for a moment, he turned back to Din. "sqdlsghidrf," he decreed, and sat down.
Din repressed the urge to push him back from the edge of the table. They had to maintain their ruse and taking care of Grogu like the child he was wouldn’t help with that. “Alright,” he replied to Grogu, “if that’s what you want.” He re-holstered his blaster.
The Balosar blinked up at him. “What… what did he say?”
“He’s feeling generous. Only two fingers from each hand.”
His face blanched.
“I’m kidding. Get up.”
He slowly complied, eyes darting between the two of them.
Grogu’s little legs swung over the edge. Keeping his gaze on the man, he said to Din, “kbjurueocd.”
“Understood.” Din addressed the Balosar. “Your choice: stick around for dinner, or go back to wherever you came from.”
“He—he really said all that?”
“…I paraphrased. You sticking around?”
“I’ll go!” He hastily grabbed his bag from the counter. “I’m going. Thank you so much sirs, I’m so sorry, but just thank you for sparing my life I promise you’ll never see me again thank you I’m so sorry,” he babbled.
"Leave."
He bolted.
The door slammed shut behind him and the diner let out a collective sigh of relief.
Din also sighed, sliding back into the booth. He pulled Grogu from the ledge and made him face him. Now even if the baby did fall forward, he would be safe.
Grogu pulled an adder moss fry out of his sleeve and held it up to Din’s helmet.
He shook his head. "I'm good."
Unfazed by the rejection, he happily popped the snack into his mouth.
“Sorry about all that. I don’t know how much you really understand, but you shouldn’t have to hear those things. Don’t believe anything bad anyone says about you, got it? You’re a great kid, Grogu.” He rubbed the fuzz on the baby’s head. “I like that you’re green. And your ears are—” he searched for the right words— “a good size. You’re like a small, uh, nugget of, uh…” What nonsense was he saying? He sighed in frustration. “I need get better at this. How are you going to learn how to speak with me as your example? You’re only going to know hunter vocabulary.”
Grogu frowned at his tone and reached out his little hands for a hug.
Din took him in his arms. “Guess this is the least I can do for now,” he muttered, patting his back.
The baby cooed and melted in his embrace.
He smiled. “Well, despite all that, we still make a pretty good team, don’t you think?”
“dahf!”
“…I’ll take that as a yes.”