Hanging Hondo - a Star Wars short story

This story came after reading a post the esteemed Pablo Hidalgo made on Twitter. The discussion touched on the flags hanging outside Maz's castle on Takodana, and the fact that Hondo Ohnaka's banner was one of them. I adore Hondo. He was one of my favourite characters in Clone Wars and is again in Rebels. He never does anything the easy way, so I figured it would be fun for there to have been a complicated way for his banner to have joined the fluttering throng outside Maz's place. It was also a chance to write a bit of Maz, my favourite new character in Force Awakens.
Please be aware that this isn't a canon story - just a bit of fun.
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My thanks to Salome and Tim at Flourish Editing for their prompt and expert services.

HANGING HONDO

By Iain Lowson

Takodana dripped. Constantly.

Ezra Bridger wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to forests. He’d seen a lot of them, sure, since joining the crew of the Ghost. Battling the Empire had taken him to some amazing, horrifying, astonishing, and even occasionally dull worlds over the past couple of years. Growing up on the grass plains of Lothal had been little preparation for exploits on water worlds, desert worlds, and everything in between. Officially, ‘home’ was now a base built around a giant tree-coral on a planet infested with vast, six-legged... things.

Yet, for all of that, it was still forests that made him nervous. All that life surrounding him, and almost all of it hidden. His growing connection to the Force made him aware of it all – simultaneously. A lot of it felt very hungry. Takodana added one more thing to the mix, though. Its ancient, gnarled, moss-covered forests dripped. Mostly, with unerring accuracy, down the back of his neck. With a sigh, he addressed the man standing behind him.

“So, tell me again why we’re here.” Ezra could feel the wet ground soaking his shirt and trousers. He tried to ignore it, and stared through the trees with his macro binoculars, scrutinising the huge stone structure below.

“I told you. We are righting a terrible wrong, you and I”, Hondo said. “Standing shoulder to shoulder against injustice. Like the Jedi heroes of old!”

Glancing back over his shoulder, Ezra smirked. “Didn’t you fight against the Jedi heroes of old?”

Hondo waved off the comment. “I suppose you could see it like that, yes. But always with the deepest respect and appreciation. Besides! Did I not learn the error of my ways? Did I not count Jedi amongst my most trusted of allies? Hmm? I think I did. I think I do!”

Ezra rolled over and sat up. Hondo – Weequay pirate lord (retired) and intergalactic businessman / con artist – leaned uncomfortably against one of the trees that surrounded them. He was at least as gnarled and ancient as the forest, and probably twice as twisted. His dealings with the Jedi had come during the old Clone Wars, which had ended a lifetime ago. Ezra’s lifetime, specifically: sixteen years. The old pirate was rubbing at his right leg again, clearly discomfited by the bacta cast wrapped around his upper thigh.

The boy frowned. “Remind me how we’re going to storm the castle in the name of justice with you like that.”

“A minor inconvenience!” Hondo threw his arm around Ezra’s shoulders, and steered him back into the clearing where their shuttle waited. “This slight – but once life-threatening – injury, gained in valiant defence of the downtrodden, might I add, will not prevent my playing the most vital role in this, my greatest victory.” He quickly corrected himself. “Our! Our greatest victory. A triumph!”

“And that role is...?”

Hondo sat heavily on a small cargo pod, which he’d had Ezra set just outside the shuttle as soon as they’d arrived. His right leg was stretched out stiffly, but he masked his discomfort with his usual bullish bravado. “I myself will venture into the gundarks’ lair, into the very jaws of Death. Despite my not inconsiderable disadvantage I, Hondo Ohnaka, will face the dreaded Kanata.”

“And where will I be?”

“You, my dear friend, will be safely outside climbing the castle, while I keep Kanata and her terrible minions at bay.”

“Whoa, wait now. Climbing the castle?”

“Exactly so! Practically a treat for such a young and strong hero as yourself.”

Ezra gave Hondo a searching look. He wasn’t being told the whole story. This was Hondo – of course he wasn’t getting the whole story. “Well, I suppose, with what Kanan’s been teaching me, I could...”

“No. No Jedi powers.”

“What? Why not?”

“Well... Kanata is, how shall I say...?” Hondo waved his arms vaguely. “Sensitive to such things.”

“She’s a Force-user?!”

“No, no, no. She just knows when someone is. She’s very... twitchy about it.”

“Oh. Great.” Ezra frowned. “Well, I guess I could use a cable gun to...”

“No, no, no! No cable guns. There are sensors.”

“Jet pack?”

“Sensors.”

Ezra squinted at the old pirate. “Why am I doing this again? Come to that, what am I doing? Stealing something?”

“Stealing?! Why, I would never ask my dear Jedi friend to do such a thing! The very idea. Outrageous!”

“So, what? Planting something?”

“After a fashion, yes.”

The ghost of a headache began to squeeze at Ezra’s temples. “It better not be a bomb, Hondo. I don’t...”

“A b...?! Ezra Bridger! I am... I am hurt by even the suggestion! A bomb? We are not assassins. Hondo Ohnaka would never stoop to such cowardly methods.”

“Kanan tells me you once stooped to attacking farmers.”

Hondo’s eyes widened, protesting his absolute innocence. “Not true! Not true at all. I attacked the bounty hunters and the Jedi protecting the farmers.”

“That’s any different?”

“That is a world of difference. Anyway, it was all a misunderstanding. And my men did most of the attacking.”

“And I’m doing most of the hard work here, it seems.”

“You only say that because you don’t know the dangers I am facing. You don’t know how terrible it is in that den of vice and iniquity. You don’t know how vicious and unforgiving Kanata is. For hundreds of years she has...”

“Yeah, yeah. You told me. Hundreds of years, pirate queen, pitiless ruler, iron grip on the sector, even the Empire scared, and on and on. I get it. So what am I planting?”

Hondo stood unsteadily, and dragged himself around to the other side of the cargo pod he’d been sitting on. With a dramatic flourish, he flipped the lid off. “This!” he declared. He seemed proud.

Ezra peered in and frowned, then looked back at the grinning Hondo. “Why do you want me to put a mouldy old blanket in the castle?”

“Not in, on! Th... Wait. Mouldy old blanket?! Of all the disrespect! I have never...” Hondo was aghast, and his expression seemed genuinely hurt. He reached in and dragged out the heavy fabric. With a shake, he unfurled the crumpled mass, sending out a shower of dust. A smell of musty decay and odd chemicals filled the clearing. It did little to improve the background stench of rotting vegetation. The item was a banner or flag, bearing the stylized image of an eye with its pupil replaced by a toothy skull and crossed sabres. He pointed to it. “This is the flag of Hondo Ohnaka, denied its rightful place on the walls of that castle amidst the banners of the other great pirate leaders of the galaxy, all by the capricious whim of Kanata. Tonight, this insult will be answered!”

“I thought you’d retired?”

Hondo pouted. “That is not the point!” He looked wistfully into the distance. “My banner deserves to be there, deserves to be higher than all the rest. I, Hondo, captured Dooku. I outwitted Kenobi. I escaped the claws of Grievous. I held the Crystal of Pomojema. I dipped my hands in the Sand of the Covenant. I, Hondo Ohnaka! Kanata cannot deny me!”

Sighing, Ezra stepped forward and hefted the banner. It wasn’t light, and the material was disturbingly slithery. He glanced up at Hondo. The old reprobate was looking down at him with an almost pleading expression. This seemed to mean a lot to the Weequay. Ezra shook his head, not entirely able to believe what he was about to do. “Where do you want me to hang it? In with the others?”

“Certainly not! My banner must hang from the top of the highest tower!”

Ezra groaned. “Of course it must. Look, Hondo, won’t Kanata take the banner down again?”

“Never! That simply isn’t done. Once a banner is raised, it stays raised. Granted, she might move it to join the others, but even the great Kanata would not be so crass as to cast it down. That would set an uncomfortable precedent. She is too shrewd to make such an error.”

“Whatever.”

Looking over the castle from afar, Ezra hadn’t been too worried. He’d climbed a lot of buildings back home, mostly while fleeing from Imperials. Kanata’s castle was far older than Lothal’s Capital City. It appeared to offer a much easier climb than the smooth buildings he’d been used to before Kanan and Hera rescued him from a life of petty thievery and troublemaking – and introduced him to a life full of grand heists and galactic sedition.

The walk to Kanata’s fortress lair was straight-forward, even in the gathering dusk. Hondo had decided the direct approach was best. A lot of ships, big and small, had been visible dotting the clearings around the castle and its small settlement nearby as they’d come in to land. Even as night approached, Ezra and Hondo met a number of others on the well-worn path. Sideways glances and occasional grunted greetings were the order of the day. Ezra tensed when he spotted a pair of scarily well-armed Rodians radiating hostility towards them, but Hondo just laughed at his terse warning.

“Kanata has declared her home to be neutral ground. Technically, that’s just the castle, but most extend that to the rest of the place. It’s safer that way. We’re in no danger. Mostly.”

“No one breaks that?”

“No one would dare.”

Ezra nodded, impressed. “Wow. This Kanata must be pretty scary.”

Hondo looked down, smiling, and placing a paternal hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “You have no idea, my boy. No idea.” He looked ahead, to where the castle walls loomed through the trees and shuddered. His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Just be glad that you don’t have to go in there.”

When they got close to the castle, Ezra ducked off into the scrappy undergrowth to work his way around to the side. The walls and even the towers were illuminated, but the lighting was patchy, and left enough shadow for him to operate in, even around the bottom of the walls that rose from the edge of the lake. There were several towers, but one stood considerably taller than the others, and that was his target. Meanwhile, Hondo limped off towards the main entrance. He’d been looking increasingly grim and resolved as they neared their goal, and his pace had slowed the closer they got. He hoped the old man would be ok.

Half an hour into his slow climb, Ezra hoped he’d be ok.

Without use of his Force-augmented abilities, he quickly began second-guessing himself. He knew he could reach a hand-hold with a little jump, but did his confidence come from using the Force, or was he just that good? He couldn’t afford to alert Kanata, to betray Hondo, so he took the slowest route up the wall. Caution also meant staying away from the few windows, from which variously came muffled voices and snatches of music, and smells both enticing and vile – sometimes both at once. At one point, he thought he’d heard Hondo’s voice. He paused, but heard nothing more. Reaching out in the Force to try to sense if his friend was in trouble was too risky. He just had to trust that the Weequay knew what he was doing and move on and up.

By the time he reached the castle battlements, he was already tired. The banner was draped around his neck and down the front of his body like a smelly, heavy scarf. The pale fabric snagged on the building, and dragged at him when the breeze off the lake blew along the walls. He made a mental note to be more appreciative of Zeb when the Lasat carried him now and then on climbs like this. Well, a little more appreciative. And not out loud, obviously.

Resting on the battlements, tucked into the shadows, Ezra kept half an eye on the guard, a big Human wearing dirty overalls and a battered chest plate who sat snoring with his back to the wall. Hondo’s banner trailed off the edge, occasionally tugging lightly in the wind as though impatiently reminding Ezra he’d better get moving.

Whatever, Ezra thought. The next leg of the climb was the longest – right up the outside of the main tower. Two thirds of the way up, there was an overhang to cope with. He wasn’t looking forward to any of it, but a promise was a promise.

Hondo was impressed. Even burdened with the banner, the boy had vanished silently into the shadows near Maz’s castle. What a waste. The things he and Ezra could have liberated, with his knowledge and the boy’s skills. They could have built a legend, the two of them, a new chapter in the Book of Hondo!

As he entered the courtyard, Hondo reached down to unclip the bacta cast, and tucked it away behind a scrappy shrub growing by the wall. He’d need it for the journey back to the ship. The deception was a necessary planning strategy, preventing endless debate over who did what. Really, he’d done Ezra a favour.

Straightening, he dismissed the pain in his back, the needling tingle in his joints. The discomforts were as irrelevant as his age, and even the lowly situation he found himself in these days. Instead, he took in the gentle movement of the myriad banners above him, counting off in his head those he remembered. Hondo nodded respectfully to those whose banner – and grand tall tales – had outlasted them, including the two he himself had seen off to whatever waited beyond.

Abruptly, he was brought up short. There, clearly new-minted and hung, was a simple crimson banner bearing two slitted eyes. Hondo’s mouth flopped open. “Outrageous,” he muttered under his breath. “The Crimson Corsair?!” That was louder. “That is... That... Outrageous!” The word briefly echoed around the courtyard. He caught himself, glancing around furtively. It wouldn’t do to give Ezra anything to worry about. Couldn’t risk the boy rushing to his ‘rescue’, lightsaber swinging. That would spoil everything.

Still, the Crimson Corsair? Hondo could clearly remember the first time he’d met Ithano. He’d been a jumped-up bag of poodoo even then. He’d turned up on Florrum and insisted Hondo give him a place on his crew. After being rightfully dismissed, the idiot had promised that Hondo would rue the day. Obviously, the Corsair had tugged his forelock and bowed to Maz, exactly the way Hondo had always refused to do. Mostly. Probably, the cowering dog had even paid his tithe, exactly the way Hondo had always absolutely refused to do. Docking fees, yes, fine. A tribute? Pirate lords didn’t pay tribute to other pirate lords. Outrageous.

Scowling at the Crimson Corsair’s banner, Hondo walked on, his pace more determined now. If Ithano was in tonight, he’d give the cringing fool a piece of his mind.

Ezra had stopped looking around at the view not long into the last leg of the climb. His body ached, his back, his legs, his arms burning with the effort. He hauled himself over the low wall at the very top of the tower, and flopped into a heap, tangled in the wretched, stinking banner. He hated the thing now with a passion that he was sure Kanan would have had some dire warning about. Untangling himself a little, he groaned and shuffled around so he could lean against the parapet. He stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, eyes screwed tightly shut against the pain.

When he opened them, he was looking directly into a pair of gigantic googly eyes. Startled, he slammed back into the stone behind him, smacking his spine and elbow painfully. The sight resolved into the oval face of a short creature wearing flight goggles.

“And you are...?” It asked.

“Ahh! Oww! Hey, back off! Owwww...”

Ezra rubbed at his elbow and scowled at the person in front of him. She was slender, probably no taller than his shoulder – at least once she got up off her hands and knees – and wearing very utilitarian clothes. It was her eyes that held and unnerved him. They would have been a lot smaller without the goggles, but, he was sure, no less penetrating and shrewd. This was someone who missed nothing.

“Uh... I’m no-one. Really.” Ezra tried to smile.

The creature leaned in even closer. Her skin was heavily wrinkled and even in the half-light at the top of the tower, obviously bright orange. She studied him, tipping her head one way, then the other. “Nope.” She shook her head. “No-one’s no-one. Doesn’t work like that.” She sat back on her haunches, clearly waiting.

“Uh...”

“Said that already.”

“Ezra. My name’s Ezra.”

“Got there in the end.”

“Yeah. And you’re...?”

“No-one.” The creature smiled. It was an impudent smile that reminded Ezra of Sabine.

He grinned back. “Really? Someone told me once it doesn’t work like that.”

“They sound smart. You should listen to that person. So, what do you have there, Ezra?” Not waiting for an answer, the creature grabbed a handful of the banner and began to haul the rest over on to the roof. Ezra lost his grip on it before he could react – whoever she was, she was stronger than she looked.

“I’m, uh, I’m kinda hanging that h...”

“Hondo?! This is Hondo’s flag.”

“Yeah. I... Ah, he asked me to get it up here. It...”

“Well, can’t imagine the old goat making the climb himself.” The creature gave Ezra that shrewd look again. “What’s he to you? Captain?”

“Uh, no, no. Just a friend, I guess.”

“You guess? Gotta know your friends, Ezra.”

“Okay, yes. Hondo’s my friend.”

“Mmm.” The creature studied Ezra carefully. It was an uncomfortable feeling. He stood there, watching her watch him. “Don’t feel sorry for him, Ezra. We are the decisions we make, and Hondo made his choices a long time ago.”

“Oh, I don’t. I mean, I do, sometimes. He just...”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know, I...”

“Of course you know. He just what?”

“He seems so lonely sometimes.”

“Mmm.” There was a pause. Ezra felt like he was pinned by a spotlight, or maybe held by a tractor beam. “You have a good heart, boy. Too good, maybe.”

“Is that a problem?”

“The best worst kind to have.” The creature looked at the banner in her hands, then out around the walls. “Guess we’d better get this hung up. Can’t disappoint Hondo.” She began to drag the banner towards the edge of the tower overlooking the courtyard.

Ezra scrambled to help, seeking some kind of control over the weird situation. “So, what is your name? Do you work here? What are you up here for?”

The creature stopped, turning to skewer him with a frown. “That’s a lot of questions.”

He shrugged, grinning nervously.

The creature rolled her eyes, but ran through the list of answers. “Maz. Sort of. Plant.”

“Plant?”

“Plant,” Maz said, gesturing over to the other side of the tower roof. Ezra saw a small pot with a scrubby plant in it. It sat on the wall by an open hatch he’d completely failed to notice earlier. “Needs moonlight, but not too much.” She tipped her head to indicate the moons in the clear sky above. “Two moons can be too much, so we come up here just for a little while each night.”

“So you’re all heart too, huh?”

She snorted. “All stomach, more like.” She was bundling the banner into an organised heap, but paused to reach into a small pouch. She held out something small and dark – a leaf. “I like the flavour.”

Tentatively, Ezra plucked the dried leaf from her fingers. Maz turned back to the task at hand, just as he popped the leaf in his mouth and started chewing.

“You crumble a bit into soup. Just a bit, mind. Makes even Tuggs’ worst taste better.”

Ezra’s mouth exploded. His taste-buds gave up immediately, overwhelmed. He doubled up, coughing, spluttering, fighting for breath.

Maz grinned round at him. “You should always read the instructions, Ezra.”

The boy struggled for words. “Where... >wheeze<... Where’s the fun... >cough<... in that?”

“I didn’t say you had to do what they say. Not every time.” She looked directly at him again, those steely eyes stilling his coughing. “Sometimes it’s better to know what you’re supposed to be doing when you’re not doing it. Makes it easier to predict the consequences. Now, hold that edge to the wall.”

He did as he was told.

Maz reached into a pouch and drew a small device, like a little blaster. It popped as she sealed the fabric to the wall, weaving the surface molecules together. They repeated the procedure a few times along the length.

After the last one, she grunted, satisfied. “That’ll hold for a while. Long enough to find a more permanent place with the others.”

“You won’t get in trouble with Kanata, will you?” Ezra asked, concerned. “Just blame me if you do.”

She flicked him a half-smile.

 “You? Not Hondo? There’s that big heart again, Ezra.”

He smiled, uncomfortable, and ran his hand around the back of his head. “Yeah. Well, Hondo will probably come back here again. Not so sure I will.”

Maz frowned. “I hope that’s not true, boy. You come back this way, just ask for me. That’ll smooth things out.”

“Even with Kanata?”

She huffed, bobbing her head side to side. “Mmmm... Mostly.”

“Depends on the soup, right.”

She barked a laugh, clearly surprising herself. “There is hope for you yet. Everything depends on the soup.” She motioned to the banner, crumpled by the parapet. “Will you do the honours?”

“Sure thing.”

Ezra didn’t have to climb back down. Maz took him down, through labyrinthine tunnels and back corridors. They stopped a couple of times, Maz pushing him back into the shadows as someone stomped past. Eventually, they arrived at a side door. She checked outside briefly before motioning Ezra forward, then put a hand to his chest as he passed, stopping him. “Hope I’ll see you again, Ezra.”

“You never know, Maz. Thanks for all your help.”

“Don’t mention it. Just say hello to Hondo for me. Tell him I’ll be sure to see him again. Soon.”

“I will. Good bye, Maz.”

“Until next time.”

The door closed and locked behind him as Ezra slipped into the dripping forest, heading back to the shuttle.

Ezra was sitting on the cargo crate outside the shuttle when Hondo finally limped back. The old pirate was grinning ear to ear, his eyes glittering with delight. He threw his arms wide at the sight of his friend, an act that caused him to stagger a bit. The breeze carried the scent of his alcoholic iniquity.

“My boy, my boy, my boy! You did it. All the way to the very top!”

Ezra sketched a seated bow. “All the way to the top, Hondo. Did you ever doubt it?”

“Not ever, my boy. Not for a single, infinitesimal moment of time. Outrageous! That’s what we are. Outrageous! Give me your macro binoculars. Give me. They can record, yes?”

Ezra nodded, handing them over, flinching slightly as Hondo fumbled with them. The Weequay gazed at his banner, still fluttering from the tower.

Ezra stood beside him for a moment, then remembered his promise.

“Oh, hey. I met someone up there.”

“Of course you did, of course. Look at it!” Hondo chuckled. “Doesn’t it look grand?”

“Yeah. Maz. She said to say...” Abruptly, Hondo was in Ezra’s face, his eyes wide, his breath a toxic cloud.

“Maz? Did you say Maz?!” Hondo clutched Ezra’s shoulders, his bony fingers digging deep. The pirate looked around, hunting the shadows for signs of assailants.

“Yeah, sure.” Ezra blinked, confused. “Maz. Short. Orange. Scary eyes.”

Hondo let him go, backing away.

“She said to say she’d see you soon.”

“Right, well, I think we’ve done enough here. Time to go!” Limp miraculously vanished, Hondo shot into the shuttle. “Time to go”, he yelled from inside.

Ezra shook his head, smiling to himself. He picked up his macros from where Hondo had dropped them in his panic. Dusting them off, he reached into a pocket for a scrap of cloth to clean the lenses and found a small pouch. In it were some dried leaves.

“It all comes down to the soup,” he muttered.

Hondo was back at the ramp, beckoning urgently. “Ezra! Time. To. Go! I, uh, I have to get you back to your friends. Before they worry.”

“You’re all heart, Hondo.” Ezra strolled up the ramp, wondering how he could get Zeb to eat one of the leaves. “Hey. Can you make soup?”

(If you enjoyed this story, there is other Star Wars content on the blog. There are a couple of other stories - not professionally edited, so you'll have to put up with avoidable oddness - as well as some interviews and the like. If you're on Facebook, you can follow me there for more general news on the Star Wars magazine work I do, as well as other stuff.)

(Might I also very sincerely recommend Lou Anders' fantastic book Pirate's Price which is all about Hondo and his history with the Millennium Falcon. Lou absolutely nail's Hondo's voice, and it's a joy to read. More Hondo is never a bad thing.)