PART 5
2 BBY
The Mandalorian
Chapter 24
2 ABY — Storage depot, Hollan D1 sector, Near the Greater Ploorioid Cluster
Din's vision was blurred by dark viscous fluid that was running down over his visor and off the bottom edge of his helmet onto his chest plate. His chest rose and fell as he panted and his adrenaline pulsed in his body.
The storage and supply facility had stark metal fabricated walls without windows, but Din didn't need to see the rain outside to know was coming down in sheets. Billions of drops thundered against the metal and streamed over the building.
Din's vibro-knife hummed in his hand and dripped with the same dark oil.
The vibro-knife is an ancient weapon, but it was found to have qualities that made it perfect for cutting down droids, because it slid right through metal like it was organic tissue. So their popularity soared during the Clone Wars.
Young Din saw the blades in action against droids during exercises with fully trained warriors. The vibro-knife which Sarin and Paz had gifted to him before he started the Training became his preferred combat weapon.
At Din's feet were over a dozen guard droids who were between the team and their target which was stored at the depot. His chest rose and fell as rage flowed through his limbs, and he looked up at the rest of the team.
Xi'an had been standing behind the last droid that Din had destroyed. She was staring at him grinning from ear to ear and shifting back and forth on her feet with pent up energy which made her lilac lekku sway back and forth. The Twi'lek lifted her hands and held up both of her favorite blades, and then wiped the oil from them onto her chest, and licked her teeth with her bright pink tongue. Their shared interest in knives had been the one thing they actually had in common. Din made it a point to avoid becoming as sadistic as she was, but every time she looked at him like that — he knew he had crossed the line again.
Then Xi'an winked at Din and turned to run though the open door with Ranzar and Qin. Qin, however, paused to give Din a long, silent hostile gaze, because of his sister's obvious interest in Din, and then disappeared through the door. Din sighed, and followed after them in as he checked his chronometer. He expected another wave of droids in under five minutes once the facility control algorithm realized how many units had stopped responding.
The storage facility was enormous. The compound had a dozen warehouses, each warehouse was easily a square kilometer at the foundation and had ten levels each. They had landed the Crest on top of the target building, and managed to move down to level five without detection, but at that level they had encountered the guard droids.
Din and Xi'an immediately engaged in a competition to see who could slice apart more droids, while Ranzar used his map to lead them in the right direction, and Qin covered Ran. Din took a bit more pleasure in dismantling the droids than he wanted to admit. But even with his helmet on Xi'an could see his bloodlust, and she knew he did not want her to see it, which was exactly what she found most enticing.
Inside the target section of level five, they found rows and rows of lockers a meter wide and three meters tall. Other sections had larger or smaller lockers. But what was stored in this facility was neither highly treasured, nor high security clearance like the vault on Scarif. It was really only valuable to their buyer.
"This is it!" Ranzar yelled out at the others from the seventh of twenty rows of lockers. Ranzar was a stocky, muscular man with a short crew cut of dark, curly hair, and a short trimmed dark, curly beard. He was standing in front of a storage locker with the correct number and waving at Din. Din rushed over as Xi'an and Qin stood watch at the end of the row
"Ran, we have less than five minutes," Din said roughly.
"Then you better work fast, Mando," Ranzar chuckled pulling his blaster and stepping back.
Din set his lock breaker on the locker, and it beeped as he typed in commands to analyze the lock program. The code was impressive, but not unbreakable, and within ninety seconds the metal latch slid open.
Inside the locker, was a single metal tube, about a meter long, and ten centimeters in diameter with a leather strap that connected to each end. Ranzar grabbed it, hefted the weight, and slung it across his chest.
"We'll unlock this on the ship, LET'S GO!" Ranzar yelled.
They ran for their exit, and just as Din started looking for doors that might open to bring droids into the hall, he caught just a glimmer in the corner of his eye of a laser-sight as it targeted Xi'an in the back.
Din immediately jumped onto Xi'an and she reacted by turning just in time to sink one of her blades into his left thigh. She realized too late that he was not attacking her — he was saving her. Din cried out as rapid repeating blaster fire followed them and they ran for cover, Din limping behind her.
"DAMMIT XI'AN!" Din roared at her sensitive earcone.
Xi'an rolled her eyes, which was the best she could do in admitting fault, "Shut up, Mando, you're fine!"
"I'M NOT FINE!" Din roared back and yanked out her knife and throwing it toward the droid with the rapid repeater. Xi'an hissed because she would not get that blade back.
The rapid repeating blasters continued to fire at them as they dove behind a large column. Din slid to the floor and tore open his coveralls to inspect how deep the wound was. He was bleeding freely, but Xi'an's razor sharp knives made for a clean wound and the flesh seemed to already want to knit back together — but he wasn't going to be able to sit still long enough to allow that to happen.
Ranzar and Qin were closer to the exit and they were offering them cover fire, but they were not going to wait for long. Din forced himself upwards, grabbed Xi'an and made a run for it while firing back at the droids. They barely made it to the exit before they were overrun from three directions.
They ran out onto the rooftop in the pouring rain, and they could hear the high pitched hum of drone security air support incoming as soon as they ran onto the Crest. Ranzar sat at ops behind Din to the right and began plotting their course back to his mobile space station. Xi'an sat at communications behind Din and to the left and tracked the drones.
Din managed to take off just as the drones came in range to fire, and missed. Din banked hard, but the drones followed.
"Mando — ten more units coming in at point three!" Xi'an's cool exterior was starting to crack.
Din gritted his teeth, the odds were quickly turning against him just simply due to the number of guns. And once the algorithm triangulated him, the units would strategize and he would soon be surrounded. However, Din also knew the limits of their engineering. The drones were built for speed to chase down thieves, they were not built to stop quickly, because they had weak reverse thrusters.
Din watched his screen, as soon as the original group and the new group formed a single group behind him, Din started a steep dive, and before the group could level out he reversed thrusters and they all flew past him. A bunch slammed directly into the ground, and the rest he destroyed with a spray of cannon fire. The ship guns were barely strong enough to handle the heavily armored drones. Din cursed under his breath, he was going to have to use some of this pay day to upgrade his guns.
When they finally escaped into the hyperspace lane, Din sat back in the pilot's chair. He had never seen such a low-security Imperial installation. There were no living guards, no space ships, and barely any other security measures. The designer simply depended upon strength in numbers of droids, and that was not a usual Imperial strategy. Clearly — their resources were going elsewhere. Din felt a slight chill. The last time he noticed the Empire was moving their resources, they were moving stormtroopers — to man the Death Star. Din shook his head back into the moment. Low security or not, he didn't care because the mission had been a success for him.
Ranzar's mobile space station was a repurposed mining station. It was small, so it was maneuverable, lower power, which made it lower cost and almost invisible to standard scans when floating in the middle of no where. Din had to admit it was a stroke of genius to have a mobile hideout so their escape route from each job was never the same. After they landed inside the hangar, Din quickly applied a bacta bandage, and then slid down the ladder to the cargo hold, careful to land on his uninjured leg.
"So who is your buyer, Ran?" Din growled with a rough voice as he leaned against the ladder. His voice had never fully recovered from Scarif. He suspected his vocal cords were scarred from the radiation but he never bothered to have a physician confirm his suspicion.
"Why do you wanna know?" Ranzar said while cleaning his blaster.
"Because — I thought you all would like to know, that I got a higher offer," Din held up a palm size holodisplay of the contract, the price, and then showed them their ghost accounts with how much would be deposited for each of them.
They all stared with dropped jaws.
"As you can see, it's just business," Din shrugged. Hand over the tube and I'll deposit the credits. Or you can keep it, and just give me my share of your buyer's price."
Ranzar narrowed his eyes, and rubbed his short trimmed beard, "You could have just taken it and ejected us into space."
Din sighed, "I may need you for the next heist. I can't tolerate new people. Waste of my time. Time is money."
Ranzar looked over at the credits figure one more time and then dropped the heavy metal tube on the floor in front of Din with a loud clank. Din pressed a button and they all watched as the credits appeared in their balances. Then he turned off the palm holodisplay, and opened the side ramp.
"I'm out of here," Qin immediately headed for the ramp.
Ranzar, however, pulled out his pad and checked his balance before looking back at Din with a slight twitch of his squinted eyes. "See ya, Mando," Ranzar sniffed, and then followed Qin.
Xi'an sauntered over to Din, pulled out a knife and flipped it around her fingers.
"I don't have to go just yet —" She moved closer and reached up to run her blade across the cheek of his helmet.
"Xi'an — I could use some sleep," Din said flatly.
Xi'an smirked, and then slapped the bandage Din had applied to the leg she had stabbed, causing Din to groan, and feel even better than he already did about getting her off the ship.
Din left immediately and within minutes was safely back in the hyperspace lane.
Din set his codebreaker on the tube. This time it took a little longer, but when the end finally opened, Din quickly pulled out a large, heavy rolled up canvas.
The canvas unrolled on his cargo hold floor to about five meters long and three meters high, and it revealed a painting that Din was very familiar with: one of the many works depicting the Mandalorian crusades which had blazed a path of domination across the stars thousands of years before.
The painting was from Pre Viszla's private collection and it had hung in the Viszla compound on Concordia until the Purge when it was acquired by Grand Admiral Thrawn. Din had walked by it without looking at it his entire childhood. He had spent some time looking at it while he was on Concordia after Alenna died, but the imagery of a central Mandalorian warrior in full cuirass, surrounded by battle, death and conquest did not give him peace like the observatory did, so he spent very little time contemplating it and never asked for its meaning or interpretation. But now — the painting's connection to so much death and loss made his chest ache as he stood with his arms crossed and stared at it for nearly an hour trying to understand why Thrawn had made the effort to acquire it.
Thrawn had scanned it and carried a detailed hologram copy wherever he went, and then stored the original in his private collection which he had kept on Wobani until he disappeared on Lothal. Then his collection of art and curiosities were evaluated and the pieces that were not deemed of great value to the Empire were dumped in the low security Imperial storage facility in the Hollan D1 sector.
Finally, Din walked slowly back up to the command deck. He typed in his comm codes and waited for a response. Within minutes a female Bothan with large green eyes, a shorter snout, sharp teeth and a uniform indicating the rank of General appeared in a hologram.
"That was fast, Mandalorian. You found it?"
Din nodded, "It's unharmed, and — exactly as I remember it."
The Bothan nodded curtly, "Rendezvous in one hour then," then she reached for her controls to end the transmission.
"Wait," Din said quickly. "Who is willing to pay this much for Mandalorian art?"
The Bothan paused, blinking her large green eyes at him, "There are many who would. But the Bothans are the ones who paid your team. We are giving the art as a gift of thanks to our client, for services to the Bothan people."
Din was silent, that was not the answer he had expected.
"Who is it?" Din's hoarse voice gave way to a whisper.
The Bothan paused again and blinked, "As you know our contracts forbid us to reveal our sources or our clients. However, you already know you are obviously not the only surviving Mandalorian. The Bothans have sworn to protect the identities of the others, because even Mandalorians have sold out their brethren. Desperation reveals true loyalty."
Din sighed and nodded, "Yes." But his anger suddenly began to rise as he envisioned Mandalorians selling out other Mandalorians.
The Bothan frowned, "Is there anything you need?"
Din's anger suddenly converged with the rage he felt as he sliced through the last droids, and his hands began to shake.
"I'm fine," Din said flatly.
The Bothan nodded, unconvinced. "The Guild is treating you — well?"
Din had been steadily challenged and often fought Guild members to the death when they attempted to steal bounties from him, or when they attempted to take him for the Imperial Bounty. His undefeated reputation was growing.
Din turned to look back at the Bothan, "You know the answer to that question."
The Bothan nodded, "So when are you going to take the Bothan's offer and come work for us?"
Din sighed, and slowly shook his head, "This is not a good time for me to fade from the Guild, even for a moment. The Guild needs to feel the Mandalorian's — presence."
The Bothan nodded, "The offer stands. Please — maintain silence about what the Bothans know of surviving Mandalorians, even to others of your kind — even to your brother. These Mandalorians will likely reveal themselves in the future. Meet in one hour. May the Force be with you."
Din nodded, and the Bothan disappeared.
Din leaned back for a moment, trying to control his breathing. He could still feel his rage, and he was having difficulty controlling it when he was trying to calm down after a fight, and that often interfered with the few hours of rest he got. Even though he never felt rested. Even if it was full of nightmares. Even if the image of Cassian's charred remains still haunted him incessantly — and he sometimes woke up screaming.
Din slipped off his helmet and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, growling at himself.
Come on, stop this. The mission was a success, a Mandalorian is getting the painting. There is no reason to be angry right now. This was a good day!
But his rage continued to boil.
Din suddenly ran his hands through his brown curls and pulled at his hair before he looked up at the top of the pilot's canopy and roared as loud as he could to try and release the tension. He yelled until he ran out of air, and tears began to roll down his cheeks. He gasped for breath after the release — but he could still feel the burning inside his chest.
2 ABY — Nevarro
Din set down the Razor Crest on Nevarro. He had not been back in months, and he did not know why he felt compelled to return. He did know that he felt after the job with Ranzar's crew that he needed to invest an entire day in decontaminating the ship.
Din regretted returning almost immediately as his memories of Cassian overwhelmed him, and he was not emotionally equipped to manage the visceral response in his body.
Din passed the canteen on his way to the Covert and noted the presence of several bounty hunters he had amicable dealings with in the past. He was immediately intrigued, and he walked right up to them.
"What is the Guild doing on Nevarro?" Din said without preamble or platitude.
One of the hunters was a tall, green skinned Kyuzo female with lanky limbs and defined muscles. Her companion was an equally tall and lanky female Frenk, with spotted skin that ranged in color from yellow-green to yellow-orange. The Kyuzo glanced at her Frenk partner and lifted a brow as she spoke through her vocoder.
"There's a new Guild governor in town. He likes Nevarro. I think he's planning to take it."
Din felt his rage rising again and flexed his hands.
The Kyuzo could see Din's change in attitude, and she stepped forward with a long slim and held up, "Mando, wait. This one is a fair bondsman. He could be an ally. Let me introduce you."
Din respected her opinion, he nodded and she led the way into the canteen.
The moment they walked in, a dark-skinned man seated in the prime private box marked their entry. He was taking a long sip of his drink as Din scanned him. Din's database from Kallus's data on the Guild named the man as Greef Carga, likely an alias, as a disgraced administrator of an unknown planet.
The Kyuzo stopped at Karga's table, but his eyes were on the Mandalorian.
"Karga, this is the Mandalorian," She said formally.
They stared each other down for over a minute. All general conversation quieted as they noted the introduction.
Finally, Karga lifted his chin, "I know your work. And you've killed four friends of mine."
Din did not reply.
Karga looked him over. "I have two bounties which will be more difficult to kill than my friends. And even harder to capture for the higher pay day. Let me know when you are ready to work. I want the higher pay."
Din looked at the Kyuzo, then looked back at Karga.
"I'll be ready tomorrow," Din rasped. He nodded to Karga, to the Kyuzo, and then walked out.
Din bore the stares as he entered the Covert, but he received nothing but nods of welcome and amiable greetings. He knew, however, that they were alerting Paz with internal comms.
Din walked into the Armorer's forge with the heavy steps of a man who carried an unbearable weight on his shoulders. After the Armorer nodded at him, he sat at her table and emptied his pouch setting down a pile of credits, more than he could recall making since he had left, but he didn't care. After he paid for his repairs and upgrades, fuel and cleaning, the rest was for the Covert.
The Armorer ignored the offering and looked closely at Din. He endured her gaze.
"Have you returned?" She said with authority.
Din shook his head, "No."
She sighed, and nodded.
Then Din stood up, and turned to walk out.
As soon as he turned to leave, Paz stood in his way.
They stared at each other for several moments. Paz had attempted to contact him three times since Din left, but the last attempt was more than a month prior to Din's return. His messages were short, and they were the same question ever time —
"Vod, what are you doing?" Paz said with genuine concern.
Din looked directly at Paz, but did not respond.
"I won't bother asking where you've been for the past five months. Why are you working with the Guild?" Paz growled. "They only pretend they belong to a tradition as great as the one you were actually raised in."
Din gritted his teeth, but he did not reply.
"We are still hunted by the Guild. They almost took you once. We cannot allow them closer to us. That could be the end of our culture," Paz raised his voice. "DID YOU BRING THEM TO NEVARRO?"
Din sighed, "Paz, did it ever occur to you that I am working to save our culture? That having me in the Guild keeps us one step ahead?"
"Yes, of course. I'm familiar how that strategy works, Din," Paz said with thinly veiled condescension. Then he leaned in. "But don't think for one single second that I don't see you sinking," Paz hissed as he pointed at Din's chest. "You think that you are 'working out your anger.' But instead you're falling deeper into this orgy of violence, which has no purpose — and no honor. You're losing yourself inside this rage. You're barely the brother I know. Ra and Sarin would never want to see you this lost."
Din continued to stare at Paz, and set his jaw, but did not reply.
"You need to go back to the Rebellion, Din," Paz said earnestly.
With one explosive shove, Din pushed Paz out of his personal space.
"The Rebellion is finished! Even Kallus has left them for the Bothan Spynet! It's over. And they can all die, like the useless squabbling fools they are!"
Paz had had enough. "Do you think that all of the commanders on Mandalore were perfect? Don't you remember that Ra had to deal with politics the same way that Kallus did? Even after Sarin and Ra withdrew from Mandalore society, as leaders of an ancient Clan they still had to deal with their own relatives like Pre Viszla! You have to bring your best to the most unideal situations in order to fight for what is right!"
Din did not reply, and brushed past Paz.
"So — what about Cassian?" Paz demanded.
Din whipped back around. "WHAT about him?" Din shouted back, his neck craned forward and hands clenched.
"What would Cassian say about you turning your back on the Rebellion? What would he say about you giving up on what he spent his entire life fighting for?" Paz growled.
"He's DEAD, Paz," Din roared.
Paz moved with a speed unheard of for a man his size, and shoved Din up against the wall of the Foundry room. "So is Alenna! And Arnar! And Falera! And Sarin! And Ra! That is NO EXCUSE!"
Din pushed Paz off, and pulled his vibro-knife, swiping across Paz's chest plate with a spark, "I don't — have to answer — to you!"
Paz stood in front of Din, and held out his hands, empty, "DIDN'T YOU LOVE YOUR BROTHER?"
Din took another swipe at Paz, but Paz easily dodged the blade.
"Ignoring the cause you fought for together, just because of the pain, dishonors Cassian's memory — and makes you a COWARD!"
Din spat back, "YOU don't get to lecture me!" He swung again at Paz, and the strike glanced off Paz's vambrace. "YOU left your family that you loved for YOUR cause, and what did it get you? Nothing but pain and loss! WHY SHOULD I LIVE LIKE YOU?"
Paz felt the venom as harshly as Din meant it. Paz took a full step back.
"Because, vod, if you don't have enough honor to face the pain, and remember how to love, you'll never find hope again — or any peace," Paz whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.
Din had just a split second of remorse, as Paz echoed Cassian's message. Then Din clenched his teeth, turned his back on Paz, and walked out still gripping his vibro-knife tightly.
The Armorer looked at Paz. Paz shook his head, and then he turned to walk out in the opposite direction.
The Armorer sighed. Din was pushing all love out of his life. The Way speaks of honor as love. Din would have a long path back to honor. But she never lost faith in him.
Paz, however, did lose faith. Din and Paz didn't speak again for years.
Din shifted in his chair. He was exhausted but he did not yet feel comfortable enough to go lay down in his bunk. He wanted to at least clear the sector before he rested.
Suddenly, the cockpit door slid open, and Cassian walked in.
"Are you serious? Do you ever rest these days?" Cassian scratched his head and yawned, stretching his arms up to touch the top of the cockpit.
Din sighed, "Where do you think I am going to sleep while you are snoring down there?"
Cassian wiped his face with both hands and scoffed, "Please, I know you would throw me out on my ass if you really intended to rest — EVER."
Din did not reply.
Cassian had been holding his flight jacket and now pulled it on as the warmth of sleep left him and the cold of space started to set in. Cassian wrapped his arms around himself and shuddered. Cassian was always cold in the Razor Crest. Din was always hot in the U-wing.
Cassian cocked his head slightly, Din was not going to turn around and look at him. Cassian's lips turned up in a lop-sided smile.
"Vod — how much longer do you think you can keep going like this?" Cassian said, sitting heavily in the ops chair behind Din.
Din did not reply, he checked his long range sensors again. He kept his eyes forward.
Cassian nodded and shrugged.
"So you're gonna just keep pretending not to hear me, is that it?" Cassian with a casual tone as he pulled a metal object out of his trouser side pocket, and twirled it around his finger.
"I would have kicked you out of the bunk as soon as I was ready to sleep," Din said quietly. "But sometimes you don't always listen to what I say, Cassian."
"I'll give you that," Cassian chuckled, and leaned back setting his right ankle on his left knee. "But why do you think that clearing the sector will allow you to rest?"
Din sighed, "Because this area is known for pirates."
Cassian laughed, "Vod, you are a pirate."
Din shook his head, "No. I'm a bounty hunter."
Cassian laughed again, "Paz is right, you have lost your mind. And you have a death wish."
Din grumbled, "You should talk."
Cassian firmly knocked Din's right shoulder, "Hey, don't speak ill of the dead! So disrespectful!"
Din shrugged off Cassian's disapproval, but still did not turn around. Din checked his sensors again, nothing.
Cassian was leaning back in the ops chair again behind Din, still twirling the metal object around his finger.
Din sighed, "Is this what Max did to you? Haunt you and chastise you?"
Cassian scoffed again, "No. He tried to guide me. And unfortunately a lot of the time I was just as you are: stubborn, short-sighted."
Din was hurt by this accusation. He wanted to turn around and shove Cassian back, but he suddenly realized he was afraid to look back. He was afraid that if he looked he would see burned flesh. He turned on the air filters in his helmet, because he began to panic that if he breathed too deeply — he would smell burned flesh.
Cassian continued to press, "And if you keep this up — shutting out all of your friends — you're going to lose more people you care about because you're not there for them!"
Din felt his fear shift to rage again. Any time he tried to face all of the loss he had suffered, the anger returned.
Cassian threw up his hands, "And if you're not paying attention — you will miss out on your last chance at love!"
Din shook his head. What was Cassian talking about? LOVE? That was the last thing on Din's mind lately.
Cassian leaned forward on his knees closer to Din. "You've got to listen to me, vod!"
Din shook his head again before he clenched his teeth and his fists and yelled.
"CASSIAN — LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Then Din whipped around to face Cassian, but Cassian wasn't there. Instead Din's eyes dropped as he saw the transponder fall off the chair to the floor — —
— — The metallic thump on the deck startled Din awake in the pilot's chair, facing the front canopy as he flew through hyperspace. He whipped around to look at the floor by the ops chair again, but the transponder — of course — was not there. Din clenched his jaw, angry with himself that he had even looked.
Din turned his chair back around and looked out into the mesmerizing dance of light in hyperspace. He took some breaths to calm himself a little and then he spoke in earnest.
"Cassian, please, leave me alone."
3 ABY — Takodana
Din waited, impatiently, in one of the darker corners of the ancient pirate castle's main room, as far away from the band as possible. Din never could stand the music, and he tuned it out with his audio controls almost completely. The small alcove that held his table had stone walls on three sides that appeared to have never been scrubbed. There were chips from fights with various weapons, there was ancient dried food stains, there was other dried stains that looked suspiciously like blood, and there was graffiti in all languages around the room. Since Maz had taken over long ago, the castle had been a place of neutrality, and so there was an air of barely contained tension. But Din found it relatively relaxing compared to the usual dives he found himself in.
Normally, he never would have depended on anyone to do his work for him. Normally, he never would have asked anyone who would remind him so much of Cassian. Cassian had apparently heard his desperate plea to stay away, because Din had not dreamed about Cassian for months. His state of mind had not improved much but Din did feel more focused. He was now completely enveloped in his work, and his latest job required — a pirate.
"My boy! It has been years! Years and years you do not see Hondo enough! Have you been avoiding me?" Hondo spread his arms looking for a hug, but Din did not comply.
"Hondo it has only been six years, and I've been a little busy," Din said tersely.
"All the same, I did miss you and your sunny smile! And Hondo has been busy too. Sit sit sit, let us catch up," Hondo sat down and leaned back in the booth.
"I need your help with a job — " Din said.
"No no no boy, first we catch up as friends, then we have a drink — " Hondo continued to wave his hands.
"You know I don't drink in public — "
"So then I will drink, and then we can talk a little business. How are you doing my boy? Of course, I know about young Cassian. Everyone knows. Don't lie to Hondo. I can see through that bucket you know," Hondo gave him a knowing look.
Din was silent for a few moments. Then he decided the conversation would go faster if he simply answered Hondo's questions.
"I'm — not — fine," Din said honestly.
"I knew you would not be fine! And I am not fine too. I recently lost another young friend too. My he was such an amazing boy. He was involved with destroying Grand Admiral Thrawn. I was so proud of him. But he was taken by the purgils and will likely never come back. At least not while I'm alive," Hondo reached for the drink that had just been placed in front of him. He lifted it sadly, "To our departed friends. May we see them soon — but not too soon, we have work to do." Hondo tossed back his drink and waved his hand for another.
Din actually felt something from Hondo's genuine commiseration and shared grief. He was not comfortable with it, but he did appreciate that it was real.
"Your friend helped destroy Thrawn's factory? With General Syndulla?" Din started putting the pieces together.
"Yes! Yes! He was part of the Ghost crew! One of the Jedi!" Hondo said proudly.
Din sat back, "And he knew Kallus too."
"Yes yes, they are a very tight group, including their Mandalorian. Like a family," Hondo nodded, and then tossed back the second drink that had just been delivered with no fanfare. He waved for a third.
Din had heard from Cassian about the entire crew, but he had never met Sabine because of her role in Sarin's death. He did not rule out ever meeting her spontaneously, but he would not seek her out.
"I consider myself the crazy uncle of that family. They are the reason I have done so much unprofitable work for the Rebels. Well, it has been fulfilling, but I am ready to make some profits with you, my boy!"
Din nodded, "I just need you to flush my bounty out of his hiding spot without him realizing he's being flushed out."
Hondo tossed back his third drink, "So you want me to get him to run away from me."
Din nodded once.
"You want me to scare him?" Hondo grinned.
Din tilted his helmet, "I want you to be — you."
Hondo looked at Din for a moment, then chuckled and then laughed out loud slapping Din on the shoulder.
Din nodded and sighed, "Exactly. Like that."
Hondo nodded, "Okay, okay, I'll help you. Who is the target?"
Din produced the puck, and the holographic face of a Mon Calamari pirate emerged.
Hondo laughed again and pointed, "You realize that is Admiral Ackbar's cousin, yes?"
Din nodded, "He has about four thousand cousins, Hondo."
"Yes, but this one — he is one of the leaders of the Renegade Squadron," Hondo said tossing back his fourth drink as it was delivered.
Din cocked his head slightly, "Do you mean Rogue Squadron? That group that's with the kid that destroyed the Death Star?"
Hondo shook his head with a grin, "No no no, this is Renegade Squadron."
Din stared, "What is Renegade Squadron?"
Hondo tossed a few credits on the table, "That conversation, my boy, should happen inside your ship — with the doors sealed. Maz's place is a sanctuary for us, but it has no privacy."
Din and Hondo walked through the lush forests back to the Razor Crest in silence. Din opened the back ramp and they sat in the cockpit as Hondo regaled him with a tale that seemed beyond any of his previous fantastical adventures.
"After the Battle of Yavin, that crazy smuggler Han Solo began to clash with the more traditional brass of the Rebellion. There were missions that the Council would not approve due to the risk — despite Cassian's success with Rogue One. Commanders like Ackbar and his cousin had ties to the pirates and the pirates knew other mercenaries or criminals that also had been wronged by the Empire. So Chewbacca started talking with their old friends. Next thing we knew, they were actively recruiting, and the Renegade Squadron was born — and paid for almost exclusively by none other than Mon Mothma."
That news caused Din to sit up slightly for the first time.
"They have humans, Wookies, Bothans, Sullustans, Rodians, and Mon Calamari. They often bring their own weapons. The commanders change depending on the mission, but the target is always the Empire."
Din stared at Hondo, "So — Mon Mothma, has created a band of pirates and mercenaries, and is inflicting maximum damage on the Empire. Just like Saw Gererra did?"
Hondo gave Din a toothy grin, but then lifted one finger, "With the one small exception — no civilian casualties. And anyone who causes any harm to civilians is immediately given to local authorities for appropriate justice. There are no exceptions."
Din was still in shock, "And how many missions have you been on?"
Hondo chuckled and crossed his leg over his knee and leaned back against the bulkhead, "I'm afraid that is classified my boy."
Din stared at Hondo silently.
"Okay, okay I've been on about twenty. Mostly for my brilliant strategy experience, and my resourcefulness. And sometimes for my old weapons and space ships from my headier days as a pirate king. They certainly do appreciate even the older models these days."
Din nodded, "And the Bothans are involved too? Now I'm starting to understand how Kallus moved over to the Bothan Spynet."
Hondo chuckled, "Yes, after Draven was killed, they tried to make him the commander but he actually turned it down and General Madine stepped in. Kallus could see the starched uniforms and politics coming, and so, he walked gracefully the other direction. He's a smart man. Zeb supported him, of course, but Syndulla was not pleased. And I have a strong feeling that Kallus was the one who got Mon Mothma to fund the Renegade Squadron."
Din smiled to himself inside his helmet. It seemed that Cassian was still speaking to both Kallus and Mon at least.
"Mando — I think you would make a nice addition to the Squadron," Hondo said nonchalantly looking around the Crest.
Din shook his head, "My days as a Rebel are long over. Let's get going, I need the money from this bounty for repairs."
Suddenly, a new signal sounded on the comms board. When Din pressed the button, a Bothan admiral appeared, with an exceptionally long snout giving him a regal appearance, despite missing one eye and several teeth.
"Al`verde Viszla, I apologize for the intrusion, but Hondo Onaka agreed to help us recruit you. The Bothans still wish you to join their commandos — who are part of the Renegade Squad.
"We have respected your anonymity since we met you and your brother. When Agent Kallus joined our Spynet, he confirmed you are of the same Clan that adopted Cassian Andor. And you have long been on our recruitment list. But recently, you have been conducting independent reconnaissance, and we did not want to interfere too early.
"At this point, however, we hope we have gained your trust, and I believe it would be prudent for us to compare notes. You see, Agent Kallus has been deep under-cover inside the Empire on a mission that the Alliance Council refused to approve. And I'm afraid he's returned to us with some disturbing news. We have reason to believe that there is a second Death Star under construction."
Din stared at the admiral for a moment.
As much as it pained him to admit it, Paz had gotten under his skin. He could see Mon's actions working with the Renegade Squadron as growth. He could see Kallus's actions moving independent of the Rebellion as growth. And — now he understood why Cassian had been pressing him. Din gritted his teeth — he would not be a coward.
"I'll agree to talk to Kallus, and the Bothan commandos. And I'm no longer an Al`verde. You may only call me 'the Mandalorian'."