The trooper doesn't look at them. From the direction of their helmet, their attention seems to be entirely on the clear sky.

Once they're through the gate, and have stepped into the slightly cooler shadow of the closes tower, Hera stops where she is. Others continue to pass by them, talking, dragging along carts of droid parts or what look like roasted amphibians, no one giving them a second glance.

Hera looks down the main road that looks like it leads to an open space surrounding by slightly taller towers, and the dusty streets that branch out from it. There are no signs, but Hera spots what she's looking for, etched along a nearby wall, a bit of old graffiti of an angry tooka face and some rude Huttese words. She takes Kanan's wrist in her hand as she starts to move again.

"Market's this way."