Kessel Run, Week 7: Write a story between 100 and 1,000 words using the Münchausen trope, told from the POV of an EC (established character)

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Part of the Family

54 ABY

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Blaster fire shrieks past him, splashing off the permacrete, crashing into grimy, crumbling walls, filling the air with the stench of ozone. He wasn't expecting this mission to be easy, but he didn't think it would go south so quickly either. With at least a dozen mercenaries between them and the hangar, and without their lightsabers, he's forced to admit that—

"Ben Skywalker?" a voice calls out in heavily accented Basic. "Little Ben Skywalker, it can't be you!"

A surge of panic rolls through him as he peers out from behind his hiding place to see an old Weequay man standing at the end of the alley, sporting a helmet and goggles and a long, red coat, a blaster pistol held in one hand.

"Friend of yours?" Elias says next to him, ducking as another blast glances off the crate above him.

Ben shakes his head, tearing his gaze from the newcomer. "Never seen him before."

"It is you, I knew it!" The old Weequay continues toward them and fires off a shot into the air, clipping their attacker in the arm; the man tumbles from his perch with a scream. "You look just like your father. Except your hair is darker, and your eyes are a different color, and then there are the scars— you know your grandfather had a scar right here—" The man drags a finger down over his right eye, then fires another shot over their heads before throwing his arms wide open. "Ah, it is so good to see you again!"

"Look, you've got the wrong person—"

"Ben!" a tinny voice rings out from the comlink at his hip."Er, um… I mean, Captain Dagen! You there? We've got company…"

Ben lifts the comlink to his lips with a sigh. So much for his disguise. "Yeah, Kohr, I'm here. What kind of company?"

"Um, the kind that wants to blast us into tiny pieces?"

"Great." Ben looks up at the Weequay man. "Listen, friend, we're kind of busy here, so why don't you find another standoff to join and let us get back to ours?"

The stranger smiles even wider at that. "Come, come, my boy, let us not beat around the proverbial shrubbery; we both know you're not a smuggler or a thief, any more than I am a…" He waves his hand in circles, then dismissively swats at the air. "The point is that you are Ben Skywalker, and I am Captain Hondo Ohnaka, the once and future pirate king, at your service!"

"Pirate king?" Kohr's voice lights up with excitement. "Did someone say pirate king?"

"I'll comm you back, Kohr. Be ready to fly." Ben tucks his comlink away and eyes the so-called pirate warily. "You say you knew my father?"

"Knew him? My boy, I am practically part of your family! Do you mean to tell me that no one has ever told you about your Uncle Hondo?"

Another laser bolt sizzles past Ben's head, and he snaps his blaster to the right, picking off a shooter hidden on the adjacent rooftop. "Can't say it ever came up."

"Ben?" Elias says. "You think maybe this once—?"

"Yeah, yeah." Ben lets out a frustrated groan and stands from behind their cover, extending one hand to send their attackers flying with a powerful wave of energy. A chorus of surprised shouting follows. "Now let's get out of here before more of them show up."

The pirate – Hondo – gives him a look of glowing approval. "Cool under pressure, just like your mother… But you expect me to believe that even she remained silent all these years?"

Ben stands and holsters his blaster, arching an eyebrow at the pirate. "Never said a word."

"Bah, the thanklessness! After all the adventures I had with your grandfather and your parents and your very namesake, that I should be disregarded and forgotten so easily and callously…"

"Namesake? You don't mean—"

Hondo's sudden grin is positively luminous. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, my closest personal Jedi friend! After all I am an old Jedi sympathizer, you know. Of course I did not know Kenobi had taken on an alias until many years later, or believe me, I would have sought him out and offered my protection and services, such as they were. You may not believe it now, little Ben Skywalker, but there were a few years during those dark times when I had hardly more than a few credits to rub together, and no ship to call my own. And now, look at me!"

"Yeah…" Ben says. "Look at you..."

"Uncle Hondo!"

"Right." He exchanges a sideways glance with Elias, who shrugs. "What exactly does this have to do with me?"

"Exactly what I said, my friend! I offer my protection and my services to you and your Jedi companions. My crew and I will escort you to safety – anything you need, just name it and Hondo will provide – and on our way, I shall regale you with tales so fantastic, not even I could make them all up."

Ben remembers Kohr's urgent transmission. "We could use a clear path at the port…"

Hondo offers a low, sweeping bow. "I would be wounded by your reluctance if I wasn't so pleased to see you, my boy." He pulls out a comlink. "Subara? Take care of the mercenaries in hangar seventeen for our new friends."

Ben's mouth falls open. "How did you know—?"

Hondo slaps a hand to his chest. "Another wound. Don't let this youthful visage fool you; I have lived a very long time, and I always come prepared. Now! Come with me, and let me tell you about the time I staged a daring rescue on one of those dreadful Sith planets and adopted several Sithlings into my crew – oh, no need to look so alarmed, they are mostly well-behaved, and besides, they're off working a job for me, you won't have to see them… but I will have to introduce you someday, you'd probably get along pretty good…"

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