Fitz Jarro
The Loud Mouthed Scoundrel
Fitz walked down the ramp of his old, rusty ship and stepped down onto the elevated landing platform. He slowly looked around. The scenery of The City In The Clouds was covered in a thick fog, muddying up the view, hiding countless beautiful presidiums, fountains and buildings, the tallest of which peaked their heads out of the opaque, milky curtain as if to proudly announce their presence to people landing here. It was a foggy morning for in the capital of Bespin. 'Yup... A perfect hiding place.' Fitz thought as he took out a cigarette, lighting it up with a match, which he promptly tossed down onto the ground and extinguished with his boot. 'And my target is out there somewhere... A needle in a bleedin' haystack.' He allowed himself to take in the scenery for a second, the ash from his cigarette entering and exiting his lungs up until he stopped. He tossed the still lit stump left from the cigarette to join the match on the ground, before stomping it out the same way. 'Better get going, I'm not paid by the hour.' He muttered under his breath, putting his right hand on his blaster in its holster, a slight smirk creeping onto his face, before he walked down the stairs from the ramp. The search was on.
Fitz slowly looked up from his plate and put on his friendliest smile.
'Bollocks...'
***
'Oh where is that stupid rhodian!' Fitz nearly shouted, kicking the curb, eliciting a few weird looks from the passers by. He has been searching for his rhodian target, Chifo Neem, for the past hour and a half. He held a few curse words from exiting his mouth and put his hands on his hips, as he looked around, hoping to spot the mark. Instead, what he spotted was a small building, white as all the others around it. What differentiated the building was the writing over the entrance, proudly proclaiming 'The Cantina In The Clouds'. Fitz felt his stomach rumble in a reminder of the fact he hasn't eaten since he left his home planet. He stood there, looking at the building, trying to figure out if he has enough money for a meal, or should he put it towards fuel. As he stood there, he saw him. A rhodian fitting the description of his target walking into the building. His luck had finally turned. Fitz quickly followed. As the door opened before him, he was met with an assortment of people of multiple species, all enjoying their food. His eyes quickly glanced around the room, spotting his target sitting at a table alone in the far corner of the bar. He quickly ordered a meal and sat down at a table nearby Chifo. He smiled as he started digging in, only to hear someone clear their throat right in front of him. In his haste and efforts to not be seen by the target, he forgot to check if the table he sat down by was unoccupied.
Fitz slowly looked up from his plate and put on his friendliest smile.
'Bollocks...'