The stormtrooper patrolled the busy streets, his squad in perfect formation, blasters ready and heads held high. They were soldiers on routine, but beneath the discipline, there was a hunger for something more—maybe a drink, maybe a break.

As they moved through the crowd, they passed by you, and something about the way you carried yourself caught their attention. Without a word, they shifted, surrounding you in a practiced motion.

One of them spoke, his voice cold and clipped, “We’re looking for trouble. And you’re looking a bit... suspicious.”

The others echoed his sentiment, ready to make this moment anything but ordinary.