Jett was no fan of Tatooine. He hated the heat. He hated the sand, that got literally everywhere. From the cracks on a ship to the crack of his ass. But most of all he hated that he could have, and should have, been anywhere else.
The job was done, the cargo was delivered. He should be jumping to next job. Only, he can't jump anywhere. His drive was down, and the Hope was as old as the force itself. Out here that meant a Sith Lords ransom for a second or perhaps fourth hand part off a ship the was more than likely the wrong series or model in the first place.
So with no other choice, the half orc clipped on his gun belt and threw on the old vest. Smashing the button to lower the ship's loading ramp with the bottom of his fist. He followed it to the floor of the bay and walked into the sand kissed hell scape that was Mos Espa.