"...and his info is usually good." Gil's voice droned on and on over the voice only com.
"What do you mean usually?"
"Well, he doesn't like Mandalorians much, but he hates Hutts even more, so you should be fine. Just...watch your back."
With a grunt more characteristic of his older brother than himself he gave his brother a send off in Mando'a and shut off the com. How his older brother ever worked with a man that hated Mando'ade he had no idea. Wasn't that counterproductive? He shook his head and sighed in exasperation and flipped a few switches to prepare for his drop from hyperspace. Zip's ears perked up from the copilot's chair as the scattered starlight began to shift in shape again.
They dropped over Terminus, a backwater trade world where two prominent hyperlanes crossed bringing in goods from the deep core into the unknown regions and Wild Space. It was also where Kruva the Hutt was hiding from the Black Sun. Both groups had taken a shot at playing the game of major government and failed, but their remnants were still incredibly powerful in the underworld and still held considerable pull. The two factions were at each other's throats and it just so happened that one of Gil's old contacts had managed to track the Hutt to this world.
The Black Sun was putting down some hefty credits for the Hutt alive. A bargaining chip or something for the Black Sun.
One Daro Tarsi had forged his docking permits and was supposed to meet him at one of the hundreds of starports that dotted the planet's surface. When asked he gave his credentials which, surprisingly, checked out. He landed without much issue and walked down the loading ramp to who he hoped was Tarsi. Zip followed close at his side. He wore a lose brown tunic underneath a green, dented and scratched chestplate of beskar'gam and spacer's pants. A crude lightsaber dangled at his waist, hidden by the cloak he wore. A T-shaped visor sat on his head, several dozen kill scratches etched into its side.