35

HERA PUSHED aside the tent flaps and stepped in, taking a quick look around.

It was an enormous tent, lacking in any extras, which shocked Hera. She'd expected it to be a lavish display of Vizago's wealth. Instead, there was simply a rectangular metal table surrounded by matching chairs and a plain cooler for refreshments. The tent fabric itself looked to be fashioned from some sort of hide, but not whatsoever an expensive one. It wasn't even dyed.

"I can see the look of surprise on your face," Vizago mused, strolling over to the table and pulling out a chair. "Perhaps you are wondering why I have placed nothing here to impress my clientele. Here, sit, and I will give you a brief explanation."

Hera nodded numbly. "Thank you." She sat down in the chair he had offered her. Just because Vizago was a crook who was probably about to scam her didn't mean she couldn't be polite - and perhaps reduce her chances of being scammed.

Vizago, too, pulled up a chair, one that allowed him to face her from across the table. Resting his elbows on the tabletop, he began. "I used to have a headquarters that was much less temporary than this one, as I am sure you recall. But now that the Empire is closing its iron fist on Lothal, I need to be able to pack up quickly and efficiently at a moment's notice. I had the old headquarters removed and replaced it with something that would allow me to do that." Vizago smirked and gestured vaguely at the area around them. "She isn't pretty, but she serves the purpose I intended for her."

"I see," Hera replied thoughtfully. "That was very.. tactical of you."

Vizago grinned. "You mean it was unlike me." He chuckled, then chuckled louder still at the instant look of alarm on Hera's face. "Do not be concerned; I take no offense. But you do not know me on the inside as well as the outside. Perhaps I am not the greatest man on Lothal, but I am no idiot. One cannot be an idiot in my line of work, or yours."

Hera gave a serious nod. "True."

Vizago folded his arms on the table and leaned forward, giving her an odd look and smiling crookedly. "Your crew... you are certainly my most interesting clients. You provide me with profitable business, and yet make my business harder to run."

Hera felt really uncomfortable as he casually went on.

"Each day, I expect to never see any of you again. The rebellion is everywhere, and you can find it, if you look hard enough and know the right people - and are the right kind of person yourself. But there are no rebels who would stick their necks out as far as you do. You are almost begging for them to be chopped off."

Hera closed her eyes briefly, then uttered a quiet laugh. Ezra had said something very, very similar to her once, on the day they first met one another. "Maybe so, but I have to disagree with you on one thing. There are other people out there who risk as much as we do. There aren't a lot of them, but they are out there."

"Interesting," Vizago said, drumming his clawed fingers on the tabletop. "I would ask you more, but I doubt you would entrust me with such information, and besides - we have a deal to make."

"That we do," Hera answered cautiously. She had been on guard from the moment she set foot on Vizago's self-claimed land, but now she had to be more careful than ever. "I believe you said you know where Ezra is."

"I did say something rather like that, didn't I?" Vizago smirked a little and straightened in his chair.

Hera's eyebrows met. "Do you or don't you, Vizago? Don't mess around with me today." She allowed a smidge of hostility to creep into her tone.

Vizago's own brows shot up. He burst out laughing. "You are hilarious, little Twi'lek, much more so than I initially thought!" He calmed down after a moment, sighing through his grin. "While you couldn't leave a bruise on me if you-"

Hera lunged her arm forward and socked him in the face.

Vizago's chair fell over backwards, taking the Devaronian crime boss right along with it. He tumbled to the uncovered dirt floor.

Hera settled in her chair again and blinked at Vizago innocently as he staggered to his feet. He stared at her, violet eyes wide with shock, as he clutched at his nose.

It was bleeding.

For a moment, there was only silence in the tent.

Then Vizago righted his chair and sat down, still staring at her.

"F-fair point," he chuckled at last, sounding a bit dazed. "I will cut down to business, nothing else. But I warn you, do not punch me again. I will have to apprehend you. And if I miss, you might rip out the nose ring that time, and that will not be very amusing." Vizago shook his head, looking a little squeamish at the thought.

"We have a deal," Hera told him, smirking slightly. "Now please, continue. What's your proposal?"

"In exchange for the information, I will call in my favor," Vizago informed her, now with all due seriousness - except for a certain glint in his gaze that Hera did not particularly like. "There will be a fleet of Imperial Star Destroyers escorting a crate tomorrow morning. I need this crate. It is the only cargo, and the only way for you to find it will be with your Jedi friend. I've heard his sort have a certain affinity for the contents of this crate."

Hera's eyes widened. "An entire fleet of-you're sending us on a suicide op!"

Vizago's eyes narrowed. "You wish to get the scruffy one back, do you not? There is no counteroffer, Syndulla. This, or you will never see the boy again."

Hera rubbed her temples. "I know," she said quietly. "And I accept your terms."

Vizago smacked his hands together. "Excellent!" He rose and bowed to her.

Hera did the same, then briskly left the tent without another word.

"It has been a pleasure doing business with you!" Vizago called after her, then sat down again, smirking as he considered what he had just done.

And what a pleasure, indeed.