He found the trail of a zoolo-sociologist, a researcher who specialized in the study of alien races and cultures. He was harmless, and surprisingly helpful when Din gave him a generous reward for his help.
The researcher adored the little one- like everything that had a soul and had met him- and discovered that the foundling also liked fruit and various gelatinous water plants. Din stocked up enough snacks for the little one to last several years. Who knew how large it would grow, or how its appetite would change.
This researcher sent him more information about the Jedi than Din could sort through, and in all of the files, he found one repeated character who gave him hope.
Master Yoda.
The green Jedi alleviated Din's fears about the foundling's future size, but provided little information otherwise. So Din kept looking, kept hunting for clues. It was as if the Master had been in the Jedi for so long that everyone had forgotten to record how, when, and from where he had joined their ranks.
But there was one trail he found.
They needed to go to Coruscant.
Din had never been before; he reached out to a few other Mandalorians to hear their opinion of the megapolis. Nothing he heard was good.
The phrase echoed in his ears again.
"You're going to stay?"
This was an opportunity to go.
When he reached out to her, asking her to come with him on this mission to Coruscant, his beskar was so clean his reflection glinted on the Razor Crest's windshield. The foundling was perched on his shoulder, cheerily waving the whole time.
"This sounds like a two-man lead." He explained. "Any remaining Jedi sympathizers won't take kindly to a Mandalorian, but I think they would respond well to a member of the Rebellion and a daughter of Alderaan. And if there are any Imps, we can take them out."
When the little one fell asleep a few hours later, Din was relieved to take off his helmet. It had gotten hot again.
Cara's response the next day made the foundling squeal and point to the navigational systems.
"Come and get me." She smirked, folding her arms across her chest. "You really are pulling me out of my early retirement, aren't you?"
Din wasn't sure if she was talking to him, or the foundling. Something had to be wrong with his helmet's ventilation. He set the course to Nevarro and wondered if the Armorer was still there, and if she could look into it.