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Corellia
Find him. Find and shoot. One shot. One kill.
Gopher nonchalantly walked through the city. He was in his element. The skyscrapers that rose up were nothing like Coruscant, but they were urban enough. Since Dantooine, he'd simply been hitching rides, seeking work at spaceports with renewed confidence. The well'd been dry for a bit, but a short stop on Mon Calamari had him overhearing a curious bit of info. Apparently, a certain smuggler had racked up a bit of debt with some crimelords; and they wanted blood. Bounty hunting was something he did more often than not. He always tried for the tougher jobs.
He strode silently, his face obscured by a worn out, brown cloak. Nobody suspected the short little figure, at least, that was the way it looked. And the Squib wouldn't have it any other way. He walked over to the cantina, if the flashing light was any indication. A good place to start the search. He knew the Smuggler type. Pink and purple light bathed the place, and it was filled with the stench of depravity and alcohol. Spacers from all sphere's grumbled and chuckled, drunk and tired. Everyone here was obviously not working. The Squib shuffled over to the bar, ordered the drinks, and began looking over the room with his bionic eye.
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