Night fell upon Sundari, casting long shadows across the gleaming cityscape. Patrols were tighter than ever, the streets teeming with both Mandalorian enforcers and the unwelcome presence of Imperial stormtroopers. Their stark white armor, pristine yet soulless, clashed against the darker, battle-worn beskar of Mandalore’s own troops. They moved with rigid efficiency, their boots echoing off the durasteel streets as they stopped civilians at random, demanding identification and searching for any sign of dissent.

One of them spotted you. He strode forward, his grip firm on his E-11 blaster rifle, the polished plastoid plates of his armor reflecting the neon glow of Sundari’s skyline. His expression was hidden beneath the blank, lifeless visage of his helmet, but the monotone of his vocoder left no room for negotiation.

"Halt, citizen."

Before you could respond, a probe droid hovered into view, its sleek black frame humming ominously. The red photoreceptor flickered to life, scanning your face with an unsettling precision.

"Please stand still for scanning," the droid droned, its mechanical voice devoid of anything remotely human.

The stormtrooper remained unmoving, his finger resting just shy of the trigger. To him, you were nothing more than another checkpoint, another nameless face to scrutinize in the Empire’s ever-growing list of potential threats.