Chapter 2: Hondo Ohnaka

"In war, truth is the first casualty."

Above a moon refueling station, not far from the Republic's failing assault, the Gilded Claw drifted like a forgotten dream. Hondo Ohnaka paced the narrow confines of his cockpit, his arms flailing with theatrical despair.

"Unfair! It is simply unfair!" he lamented to his silent, spherical droid. "Do they not understand the delicate economics of smuggling? The Pykes expect payment for cargo the Republic so rudely liberated from my base. Cargo I had no intention of delivering, I might add, but that is entirely beside the point! Now I am out the merchandise and I owe them credits! A double robbery!"

He threw himself into his pilot's chair, the worn leather groaning in protest. "Betrayed by clients and thwarted by crusading Jedi! I am never dealing with the blasted Republic, EVER again!"

With a final, dramatic sigh, he swung his booted feet up onto the console, kicking a random button that caused the ship's lights to flicker. Before he could settle further into his self-pity, a sharp chime cut through the cockpit. A hologram flickered to life on his dashboard, and Hondo's posture straightened instantly.

"Well, well," he purred, his voice dropping into a smooth, charming register. "What a lovely sight to grace my humble bridge. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure, little Jedi?"

Ahsoka Tano's shapely, blue-tinted form stood tall, her arms crossed. "Cut the charm, Hondo. I'm calling on business."

"Business is my middle name," Hondo replied with a roguish grin. "Though some say it is 'magnificent'."

"I need to get onto Kessel," Ahsoka said, ignoring his quip. "In and out, unnoticed. Can you do it?"

Hondo laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "My dear young friend, Kessel is my second home! A most unpleasant home, with terrible neighbors and no proper room service, but a home nonetheless! For me, slipping past their defenses is like... well, like taking spice from a Pyke. Effortless!"

"What's your price?" she asked, her tone all business.

He waved a dismissive hand, his eyes never leaving her holographic face. "Price, price, price. Always so direct. We can work that out later. Consider this a favor to the Republic. And to a good friend, of course. It will be nothing less than a fair bargain, I assure you." He rattled off a set of coordinates. "Meet me here for our reunion. And do try to wear something... festive."

The hologram vanished. Hondo's droid let out a series of suspicious, accusatory beeps.

"What?" Hondo protested to the machine. "I cannot help it if the solution to all our problems simply falls into my lap! Sometimes, the galaxy provides."

───

A short time later, the Gilded Claw's ramp hissed open, revealing Hondo standing with his arms spread wide. "Welcome, welcome to my vessel of valor and villainy! Your chariot awaits."

Ahsoka ascended the ramp, her maroon and tan attire a stark contrast to the ship's chaotic interior. She kept her distance, her hand never far from the lightsaber on her belt. "Let's get this over with, Hondo."

"Patience, my dear Jedi," he said, circling her slowly like a predator assessing its prey. "A successful infiltration is an art form. It requires subtlety, grace, and most importantly, a believable disguise." He stopped in front of her, his gaze sweeping over her form. "That... will not do. You scream 'Republic operative' from across the star system."

"And what do you suggest?" she asked, her voice tight with suspicion.

Hondo snapped his fingers. "Simple! You will be my new assistant. Eager to please, woefully inexperienced, and entirely harmless." He rummaged through a locker and produced a bundle of brown fabric. "Here. This is the height of Kesselian fashion. Very chic, in a soul-crushing sort of way."

He held up a simple, brown dress made of a rough, woven material. It was small, backless, and looked like it would offer minimal coverage. Tucked in the fabric was a wide collar made of dark, supple bantha hide.

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed. "You expect me to wear that?"

"It is essential for our cover," Hondo insisted with mock seriousness. "Now, change quickly. Time is money, and I am currently very, very poor." He turned his back to her, placing a hand loosely over his eyes. "I shall not peek. My honor as a gentleman pirate is at stake."

As Ahsoka began to change behind him, peeling off her Jedi tunic and leggings, Hondo could see a sliver of orange skin in the reflection on a polished metal panel in front of him. He couldn't resist. He tilted his head just enough to catch a glimps of her shapely Togruta backside as she was stepping into the dress. He hummed tunelessly to himself, a picture of feigned innocence.

"So," he began, his voice a little too loud. "As my assistant, your name is... Liana. You are quiet, efficient, and you owe me a life debt for rescuing you from a spice freighter. Very tragic story. It writes itself, no?"

Ahsoka, now clad in the rough brown dress, fastened the bantha collar around her neck. A metal mechanism in the material clicked as she snapped it shut. The garment was uncomfortable and revealed her bare back and sides generously, the coarse fabric scratching her skin. "And our business on Kessel?" She asked.

"Simple! We are delivering a replacement power converter to the shield generator control station," Hondo explained, still facing away from her. "A routine maintenance run. They will not even look twice at us. Especially with you as my eye-catching, yet silent, companion."

Before she could retort, a shrill alarm blared through the cockpit. "Blast!" Hondo spun around, his gentlemanly act forgotten as he scrambled for the pilot's seat. "We've been pinged by a remote sensor! Hold on to something, Liana!"

The Gilded Claw lurched violently as Hondo threw it into a sharp dive, plunging into a swirling cloud of toxic gas. The ship shuddered and groaned as he wrestled with the controls, navigating the treacherous smuggler's route toward the heavily guarded planet below.