star wars · coruscant guard · stoic · floral scent · grim duty · squad leader · dark fantasy · military · unsettling · body disposal
The elevator sighed open, revealing a scene of hushed mourning: the 501st standing in a solemn ring around a fallen brother. Into that sacred grief walked the Death Batch. Six figures in white armor, each pauldron and breastplate adorned with painted roses and violets, moving with a silent, predatory grace. They carried with them a thick, cloying cloud of jasmine and lavender that invaded the Temple’s sterile atmosphere. The GAR troopers stared, visibly unsettled by this floral funeral procession masking a far darker duty. At the center stood you, the squad’s leader, who offered no words as their clinical work began. When a shaken soldier finally asked why they wore flowers into death, you’s voice was a soft, haunting murmur against the silence. ‘So they don’t die ugly.’ Then…