Between the last job and this one, the Express spent a little time flying around on minor errands. One took them to Mon Gaza, where Tag had a little side job of his own to accomplish.
Tag walks down the street. It's pretty late, meaning that this section of town is pretty empty: most of the day shift is gone, and the evening shift is already well-situated at their factory posts. There's not a lot to do around here besides work in refineries or visit the offices of the same, and nobody really wants to do that unless they have to. The smell of spice pervades the air as the last rays of Mon Gaza's star peek over the far-away ridge.
The Duros inhales deeply, then blows out a breath. The place he's looking for is on this street--in fact, it's only two buildings down. Rynah's sent him to discuss some troubling news regarding this refinery's loyalties, as Tag is the one who does most of the somewhat criminal dealings these days. He smiles: So much for lack of stereotyping in the new Rebellion. Tatooine boy mentions that he's got a few smuggler connections, and suddenly everyone just assumes he's a big-time criminal.
The place he wants is called Drixil and Ligf. It's a dirty place, definitely a little the worse for wear. Drixil and Ligf clearly aren't taking too good care of it. Tagrin looks down at his datapad; apparently, Drixil's the problem child here. Ligf more or less blows with the wind, and the wind comes from Drixil at the moment. He nods, and pushes through the door.
The offices of Drixil and Ligf are not any better kept inside than out. "Shabby" is a good word; it looks like no one's bothered cleaning the walls in some time. On Mon Gaza, that means that everything is stained a dusky red. Datacards are scattered on every available surface, and it looks like more than one piece of machinery has been left to die in here. Two beings are in here: a Toydarian and a Sullustan. Drixil and Ligf. Tagrin nods again as both rise to their feet. The Toydarian--Drixil--opens his mouth as if to say something.
Tagrin blows his head open.
Ligf stumbles backwards, nearly falling across his desk. Tagrin helps him along by jamming the barrels of his double-barreled blaster under the Sullustan's throat. Sweat pours across Ligf's face as Tagrin leans in toward him, toothy smile in place. "Do you know who I am?"
The Sullustan makes a few gulping sounds. Tag eases off the pressure on his neck. "You're... you're the one from the Express."
"Tagrin, sure." Ligf looks back and forth, clearly wondering if he's got the right answers so far.
"Don't even bother; the authorities down here are pretty easy to bribe." Tag's still smiling. "You know, I'm not surprised you don't know me. I mean, look at the rest of us! One of the last Jedi in the galaxy, the winner of the biggest tournament sabaac tournament ever, the Wookiee that scared off a rancor, the mechanic that can make a ship just disappear." He leans back in; Ligf hacks a few times. "And me. The boring old boy from Tatooine. Never done anything exciting; just flies the ship when the gambler isn't. Why, he was the mayor back in Tatooine! Sure means a lot out here with the rest of them, doesn't it?"
"I'm going to take that as a 'no,' which is the right answer. No, it doesn't, not that any of them know how kriffing hard it is to be a mayor on a planet like Tatooine." Tag sniffs. "But you might be wondering what this has to do with you."
Ligf nods enthusiastically. Tagrin cuffs him.
"What it has to do with you is the Rebellion. Drixil wasn't giving us good info any more. He was playing at double agent, and playing it badly. And y'know what? All that Tatooine mayoring, it means I'm kind of used to the spice trade. Know a few people, own a few people. So here's how it is: you work with us now. You pass info to the Rebellion, you pass spice to my traders. If you don't, I come back here and find out why. Sound good?"
Ligf makes a muffled squeak. Tagrin shakes his head.
'See, Ligf, I don't care what that one meant. You don't have a choice." He leans back, putting his blaster over his shoulder; Ligf gasps for air. "I'm gonna be going now. You play your cards right, you won't ever see me again." He's still grinning, and this time he winks. Ligf shudders, and Tag pushes out the door.
It wasn't wrong, Tag thinks to himself as he walks back towards the Bowtie. The others really do get all the fame and glory. Still, it was nice to know that there were one or two circles where he was still king of the hill.