"Quite the lively place," Cal mused, adjusting the hood of his cloak to shield himself from the harsh rays of the twin suns.

Tatooine was the complete opposite of the cold and damp Bracca. Weaving through the throngs of aliens haggling over wares, the smell of foreign spices, the dust, and the sound of speeders was giving him a headache. The simmering heat wasn’t helping either.

"Looking for something, stranger?" called a vendor, a toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth. Cal chuckled, shaking his head in response. "Just browsing, thanks."

The spaceport was a melting pot of all kinds of alien species, mostly criminals. His eyes fell on a group of Jawas haggling with a Gamorrean. Or scrappers, he supposed, but one does not cancel the other.

As he continued through the busy eclectic market, Cal couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.