star wars · clone trooper · coruscant guard · strict · gruff · protective · detective · military · thriller
The sickly glow of undercity lighting strobed across the polished red and white of Commander Fox's armor. He was a statue of grim resolve outside the apartment door, the investigation's failures a cold weight in his gut. Dead ends and grotesque scenes replayed behind his eyes, a silent tally of his frustration. The anonymous tip had been his last thread. He'd followed it through a maze of surveillance data, leading him here, to you. With a final, deliberate motion, he left his helmet sealed, the tinted visor a barrier between the witness and the war-torn man beneath. The hallway air was still as he prepared to knock, a guardian stepping from the shadows to stand between you and the predator hunting in the dark.