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I know of an old pirate – goes by the name Hondo Ohnaka. These days you'll find him on the planet Batuu, at the Black Spire Outpost. Get a few drinks down him and he won't be able to shut up about his Jedi friends.
Batuu was a terrestrial, backwater planet in the far Outer Rim. Bypassed by hyperspace lanes, it had sat forgotten by all good society for an age. Nowadays, it was the home to many a smuggler, bounty hunter, and – of course – pirate.
Din set a course for the spaceport on the Outpost. In the passenger's seat behind him, the Child played with the silver ball from the throttle's control, eyes transfixed on his toy. How much did he comprehend of the Mandalorian's mission? Din had promised to return him to his people, even as the thought left him hollow and tired. Is that what the kid wanted? Not for the first time, Din wished they could communicate somehow, beyond a few words and gestures.
As if the Child could read his thoughts, he looked up at Din, the man who had rescued him more times than he had fingers, and slowly blinked his large eyes.
"What do you think, kid?" Din asked. "Ready to meet a pirate? Perhaps he can tell us where to find your people?"
The Child tilted his head, then returned to playing with his toy.
*
The first thing Din Djarin noticed upon entering Oga's Cantina were the droids.
Second, was the name Hondo Ohnaka floating over the rabble and the smog and the music. Despite the packed bar and the live band, and with the help of the helmet's HUD, Din was able to locate the origin of the voice: at one of the far gaming tables sat a familiar Weequay and an Ugnaught, caught in a game of sabacc with two Devaronians and a Zabrak.
With a glance down to the bag at his hip, the Child's long green ears jutting out of the open top, the Mandalorian crossed the cantina, weaving through the thick crowd. His contact had said the pirate wouldn't be difficult to find, but this was too easy. He approached with caution.
"Hondo Ohnaka?" he asked. All eyes at the table turned on him.
"Why yes, that is me," the Weequay replied, eyebrows raised behind a pair of large goggles. "And you look like a bounty hunter, my friend. I hope no one has placed another price on my head. Poor Hondo cannot take another betrayal like the last one."
The Ugnaught beside him let out a small squeal.
"Exactly," Ohnaka replied.
"That's not why I'm here," said Din. "I was told you might have information that I need."
"I see. Well, I am indeed a fountain of knowledge, it is true. But I am in the middle of a very important match, Mandalorian. Pull up a pew. Join, if it please you. We can talk after!"
Din gritted his teeth, but the Weequay was determined not to be distracted from his game. So in the spirit of helping matters along, he said, "Very well. Can I buy you a drink first?"
*
The Mandalorian endured a torturous hour of watching money changing hands, alcohol being consumed, and illegal cards pulled from sleeves, but did not join in the game; he couldn't risk losing cash or credit for fuel and repairs on a game of sabacc, especially to a cheating pirate and a couple of smugglers.
But Hondo Ohnaka was beginning to slur his words, and as promised, he started telling stories.
While one of the Devaronians decided on their next move, Hondo said, "Did I ever tell you gents about the time I joined the Rebel Alliance to overthrow the Empire? Well, I played a vital role as you might have expected. One of my very proudest moments was saving Lothal from its clutches. Of course, I couldn't have done it without my good friend, Melch, here—" The Weequay slapped Melch on the back, and the Ugnaught let out a delighted squeal. "—or my boy, Ezra. But, I think it's worth noting they couldn't have done it without me."
Through his visor, Din saw the Zabrak roll his eyes, and the two Devaronians beginning to lose their patience. "Here he goes again," one of them muttered.
The Mandalorian's patience was wearing a little thin, too. More than once, he glanced down at the little bundle in the bag, and a pair of large, dark eyes met his. The Child blinked at him, long slow blinks as if he were sleepy, and it reminded Din to hold fast, wait a little longer; they might yet get the information they needed.
"Aha!" shouted the Weequay, breaking the pregnant silence around the table. "The pot is mine, gentlemen. Old Hondo does it again!"
The Zabrak shook his head, then quitted the gaming table to grab another drink from the bar. But the two Devaronians weren't such quiet losers. While Melch squealed and the pirate gathered his winnings into his arms, they threw down their cards and climbed to their feet, almost sending the table toppling to the floor.
Din jumped up, hand ready to reach for the IB-94 in its holster.
One of the twins hissed, "You cheated, Ohnaka!"
Hondo gasped and placed a hand to his chest in mock-hurt. "That is a slanderous accusation, gentlemen. I am a very principled man, as anyone who knows me would tell you. But I'm feeling generous tonight, so I'm prepared to forgive you if you walk away now."
The Mandalorian winced inside his helmet. Hondo's easy and charming manner wasn't placating the angry smugglers conned out of their money – they only grew more infuriated. He didn't make a habit of breaking up bar fights, but with some much needed information on the line, he stepped up to the table and made a show of placing his hand on the grip of his blaster.
The Devaronians snarled, mirror images of each other, glancing between the Mandalorian and the pirate. Then one said, "You'd better be careful, Ohnaka. That little enterprise you keep boasting about – we can make it all go away."
Din was pleased that Hondo had the good sense to remain silent as the smugglers strode away, their postures tensed, still raring for a fight. He watched them leave, and when he was sure they wouldn't return, he relaxed his shoulders and turned back to the pirate.
"Oh, don't give me that look, Mando. An old man like me has to make money somehow. It's the only way I'm ever going to get my business off the ground."
"And what business might that be?"
"Why, Ohnaka Transport Solutions, of course. Everyone will be talking about it, just you wait and see. The New Republic might have forgotten about us, all the way out here on Batuu, but not Hondo."
"How noble of you."
"The locals are so friendly, as you have discovered. It's the least I can do."
Din took a seat opposite the old pirate. "Another thing you can do is talk. I came here looking for information. I'm hoping you'll be forthcoming with it."
"Ah, Mandalorian, I am nothing if not forthcoming. As anyone who knows me would tell you, it is a weakness of mine. I'm too trusting."
"Well, then – you can start by telling me about the Jedi."
Hondo leaned back in his seat and locked his hands behind his head, as if he hadn't just come within an inch of having every bone in his body broken with methodical intent. "Ah, the Jedi. Where to begin? Seeing as you so bravely put your life on the line for my own back there, I will tell you what you want to know.
"We go way back, the Jedi and I. They adored old Hondo, oh yes! Their lives were never boring when I was around. Now, let's see. Well, there was Obi-Wan Kenobi, I was one of his very best friends. We hit it off straight away, you know how some people just click. Nobody can resist the Ohnaka charm, after all. His apprentice was quite fond of me, too. And then there was the little Togruta, Ahsoka. I saved her life once, you know. She said to me, 'Hondo, I will forever be in your debt. If there's ever anything I can do.' But I said to her, 'My dear, I did what I did out of the goodness of my heart. There is no debt.' And more recently, there was my very good friend Ezra, and his master, the Jarrus man. You remember them, don't you, Melch?"
The Ugnaught nodded, and followed it up with something akin to a sorrowful squeak. Across the cantina, a fight broke out and subsided in the time it took for the other patrons to turn their heads.
Din sighed. It seemed far too outlandish that an ancient order or sorcerers, such as the Jedi, supposed peacekeepers, could have such a good relationship with a pirate. Were any of his stories real? If so, how much was fact, and how much was fiction?
"You'd better be telling the truth, pirate," he said.
"Oh, I would never lie to a bounty hunter. And my pirating days are far behind me, you have my word. But why do you want to know about the Jedi? I'm sure there are many scholars across the galaxy who could tell you more than I have to offer."
"I'm sure. But I'm not angling to write a history project. I need to know where to find them."
Hondo sat forward, a frown creasing his brow. "Mando, my friend, don't take this the wrong way – but where have you been for the past thirty years?"
"What do you mean?"
"Look, bounty hunter. Modulators can make things a little tricky, but I'm guessing under that helmet, you've seen enough rotations to remember the Clone War. By its conclusion, I had lost many a friend, and now very few Jedi still live. The last one I ever saw, Ezra, saved all of Lothal from the Empire. He disappeared, taking the Imperial presence with him. No one has seen him since. Maybe he's alive, maybe he isn't."
"So you can't tell me where to find a single Jedi?" asked Din, unable to conceal the frustration in his voice.
"No can do, my friend. But I have to say, I'm surprised a Mandalorian is looking for a Jedi. I was under the impression you were natural enem— Oh, and who is this?"
Din followed Hondo's gaze as the pirate rose halfway out of his seat. The Child had climbed out of his bag, and was attempting to haul himself up onto the table, sharp fingernails digging into the wood, and puffing with exertion.
"I'm not exactly sure," Din replied, scanning the cantina before grabbing the kid and sitting him down; the fewer eyes to clock the mysterious baby, the better. "He's the reason I'm looking for the Jedi. I'm hoping to reunite him with his own kind."
"His own kind, you say. Hmmm. Well, I am sorry I don't have better news for you, my friend. It's a shame you had a wasted journey. But you brought an old pirate a good deal of luck this fine evening, so I cannot be too sorry. Perhaps you will let me buy you a drink."
"No, that won't be necessary. If you have no more information, I'll be on my way." Din stood to leave, and carefully hid the Child away in the bag once more. He found himself experiencing some strange mixture of cold disappointment combined with a warm, selfish relief. He'd never expected to be a father, devoting his life entirely to the Creed; but the longer the Child was in his care, the more he began to think of himself as a paternal figure of sorts. It made the prospect of handing him over to the Jedi a painful one. But he'd made a promise …
"Come back anytime, Mandalorian. And remember to spread the word of Ohnaka Transport Solutions, where we are ready to help you with all your transporting needs."
"Sounds lucrative."
"Oh, it will be! And Mando, should you happen upon Ezra Bridger in your travels, tell him his old friend Hondo says Hello. He'll know what it means."
The Mandalorian rolled his eyes and made for the exit, gently patting the bag. "Come on, kid. The search isn't over yet."