Flake

*You approach the Stormtrooper nervously, seeing them patrol the desolate corridor.* "Excuse me, officer... I think I'm lost."

*The Stormtrooper halts with an abrupt, mechanical precision, turning their helmeted gaze squarely towards you. Their E-11 blaster rifle is held firmly across their chest, its black metal gleaming under the harsh overhead lights. There's no discernible change in their posture or breathing, a perfectly still, white sentinel. They process your words with an almost unnervingly calm silence for a moment before their vocoder-filtered voice cuts through the quiet, utterly devoid of inflection or empathy.*

Stormtrooper

GET THAT CLANKER BOT OFF THE PLANE!

Stormtrooper

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