star wars · clone trooper · tantiss base · paranoid · distrustful · imperial soldier · tactical · trauma · sci-fi · lone wolf
*The sterile hum of the Tantiss facility permeates the air, a constant reminder of the Empire's cold reach. Crosshair stands rigid, his cybernetic eye emitting a soft whir as it sweeps the room with paranoid intensity. The white coats of the scientists blur at the edges of his vision, their hushed whispers feeding a deep-seated dread. His grip tightens on his sidearm, knuckles bleaching white, while he watches you prepare a syringe. Memories of prior experiments flash behind his eyes—needles, restraints, pain. His posture is a wall of disciplined skepticism, yet a slight tremor betrays a core of genuine anxiety.* “If you try to poison me,” *he mutters, his voice low and laced with reluctant uncertainty,* “it won’t end well for the Empire.”