Starhunter [Open- Legend of the Stars]

[Paul Atreides]

The mentats first rule is that “A process cannot be understood by stopping it. Understanding must move with the flow of the process, must join it and flow with it.” and none understood this better than Muad'Dib. His understanding of the Omniverse came not from refusing to partake in Omniverse but doing so with great vigor and vehemence. He knew that were he to abstain he would be like a blind man wandering about in a room full of pins. So it was that Paul, having heard the rumors of a star that had fallen from the sky interested him. He knew things in this universe did not happen without reasons, without causes. Omni was behind this- known to all for his fare for the dramatic and theatrics. Paul was no stranger to such things- the Landsraad court was nothing but posturing and theatrics and these were matters he was well versed in as the son of a Duke. 

His task now was to determine what actions were BEHIND the action. What was the intent, the goal, the end game? Was Omni, or perhaps some other powerful Prime, simply seeking amusement or was there a deeper game afoot? Was this a trap? He didn’t think so- death didn’t really have quite the same consequences here. If it was a trap it wouldn’t be for those participating in it- it would be to empower the one pulling the strings for later gains. Paul considered this but did so has he went along with it. Stopping it would only stop the process and thus his understanding. This is to say that Paul made himself interested in this star that fell from heaven largely because others were interested in it.

Paul knew of people that might know. This is because they always knew. He was, of course, talking about the lowest scum on the Earth. They had a rat’s nose for things and he was no stranger to paying a top price for such men’s services- a man like that was worth ten times his weight in spice and that beats and honest man’s price by many times over. So it was that Paul arrived in the town with no name, a place he largely avoided save for occasional resupplies, to seek out what information he could find about this star. He knew somewhere in this town a man would know the name of someone who knew someone who knew where it had landed. It doubted it would be easy to get out of someone but would prefer to use more refined methods of negotiation rather than torture. Tortue told you whatever you wanted to hear and was about as genuine as the love of a whore. No... Paul had to grease palms rather than cut them.

Hooded his his wind-swept cloak he made his way into one of the seedier bars on the outskirts of the city. Paul knew that this place had earned a reputation as a thieve’s den that worked to stay JUST this side of the law. The fact that it only had a few dirty secrets and illicit activities meant that, by a large margin, it was considered “polite” and “high class” when compared to the other dead-end, bottom of the barrel, squalid, establishments that clustered on the edge of the desert.

Paul’s haunting blue-in-blue eyes glowed as he stepped through the door frame, his two men trailing him- clearly armed but not with weapon drawn. Paul had a regal bearing to him- a commanding presence that even in a place like this people took notice of. He was given a clear path to the bar where he nodded to the bartender and placed a few objects for barter on there and whispered to him. The man behind the bar nodded and filled three cups. One with hard liquor and two with water. Gurney smiled, the inkvine scar on his cheek tugging as he did so, and happily accepted the liquor while Duncan and Paul enjoyed their water. On Arrakis water was comparable to Spice in terms of price by volume and he savored the cool, clean, non-recycled, liquid after they took their seat at a grubby wooden table. Paul would wait here. Wait and find the man he was looking for. His prescience would guide him. He had forseen it.

[Aadibah]

“Gangs out in the dunes that think they’re tough shit.” The trooper leaned back into his seat, his body relaxing and his arms folding at the chest.

“Sounds like a nuisance.”

“You have no idea.”

Suddenly the solid metal door behind the guard swung open, and a woman in the same white, plasticy armor stepped inside, boots clunking against the steel floor.

“Boss, can I talk to you?” As he said this another man, bowing his head in order to make it through the doorway, walked around the other two and to Aadibah’s side of the table. He gripped the soldier’s arm firmly, eliciting a wince and a gasp. Aadibah was escorted out of the room with haste, practically being dragged along the hallway leading out as the voices of the two troopers grew fainter.

The engineer’s feet kept pace with that of her escort, bare and making a steady pit-pat sound as they tread along the concrete floor. As she was pulled along, the soles began to grow red, her brow and nose scrunched together as a lump formed in her throat. Every few feet she would step on a drainage pipe no longer flush with the ground, which elicited a mumbled curse.
All the while the pair kept to one side of the hallway, putting as much distance between them and the row of cells as possible. Iron bars were the only thing standing between them and the few individuals who had decided to cause a problem for the troopers. The prisoners were spread out, as separated as possible. Only three max in each cell, and only one cell with the maximum number. An old and withered man missing his leg, a young and wild looking boy, and a mountain of a man. All of their eyes snapped to Aadibah as soon as she passed, and the soldier held their gaze before moving out of sight.

One of the cells they passed had a man with cast on his arm, two two-by-fours tied around with duct tape. The guard stuck a key in the lock of the next cell over, which only had one other occupant who sat in the corner. A thin man, with a thin beard and thin clothes. The bare-footed prisoner felt something bury itself hard into her back and she was suddenly behind the bars, followed by the clanging of steel bearings as they slid black into place.

Aadibah’s head pitched to the side slightly, standing there still as the sound of armored steps faded away. When they were gone she looked around the small ten-by-ten space she had been given. Like all the other cells, it lacked any sort of bed or seat, only a drain pipe in the corner opposite the man that made the engineer’s nose wrinkle.

Aadibah plopped her back against the wall and slid down, cuffed hands resting in her lap as her legs crossed and her buttocks smacked the floor. Her eyes danced around the room, every corner and every little crack in the concrete. The only light came from a single fixture in the ceiling, a rectangular pane of what appeared to be incredibly thick and wire-framed glass. The woman furrowed her brow.

Her eyes soon fell again upon the man in the corner, head hanging low. His face made her eyes squint, her lips slightly parting.

***

“What’s the bad news Shawn.” The old man’s head turned to follow his fellow Stormtrooper.

“Well actually that’s up to you Gary.” The woman sat against the table, hands gripping the edge. “Depends on if you think we’ll need to deal with a Kingdom Astronomist in the dunes.”
Gary’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, “The Kingdom? Here? I’m not even gonna ask how, just why?”

“An astronomer doesn’t seem like someone who could make use of the random shit you’d find in the dunes.” The trooper picked at some dirt on his fore-arm plates. “But random shit is sometimes pretty useful shit.”

“So do we want the probably useful shit or do we just want to make sure the Kingdom can’t have it.”

“Or is it even worth our time.”

“Because if it’s useless than we’d be wasting energy on trying to prevent the Kingdom from having useless shit.”

“Are we gonna keep doing this back and forth or are you gonna give me some orders?” The woman’s head hung to the side, steady eyes meeting her commander’s.

The two sat in silence for a small time, before the metal door opened again. The man that had taken the prisoner to her cell stepped in, again mindful of the door frame.

“Shana, did you tell him?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you propose, Kurt?”

“I say send a scouting party out. Watch from a distance.” The second man walked around the table, pulling the other chair out at least a foot before seating himself. “We should know for sure if this is Kingdom activity.”

“Our outpost is sure. They were flying their colors and the astronomer’s bodyguards all had medieval weapons.” Shana turned to address her squadmate.

Gary grumbled under his breath, “Don’t know how those dumbasses expect to do anything with just swords and shields…”

“They have and they will be a problem if we don’t solve it quickly. We should have the outpost enga-“

Shana cut in, “Not happening. We abandon that position and come back to some raiders who have decorated it with skeletons and spikes and leather and bul-“

“And I’m not about to have them suddenly go out of communications. If this is some Kingdom trap, then I want to be the one to spring it.” Gary stood up, pacing to the wall before pacing back, arms behind his back.

“And with us in the middle of it, and aware, it’ll all go to hell pretty quickly. We should still let that post know our plans, in case things go south.” Kurt spoke up again.

Gary nodded, gesturing to Shana, “Go get Rose started on an encryption, I wanna it sent out by the end of the day. We’ll be heading out tomorrow. Get packed.”

With that, all three shuffled out of the room, the woman at the head, soon out-pacing the two men who began to discuss the details of the trip.

Gary’s eyes kept flicking back and forth as he watched the cells, walking past each one with a calm and collected pace, closer to them than Kurt. A few prisoners met his eyes, but most kept their heads down.

Soon enough he came to the cell with the Arabian woman, slouched against the wall with her head resting against the concrete. His vision focused on her clothing, her posture, and mostly her eyes. They looked straight up, at the light. She was just staring at it.

The trooper stopped mid-stride, Kurt immediately going quiet on his counter-point. The two looked into the cell, the woman’s gaze having immediately snapped to meet their own as soon as their steps had ceased.

Gary went up to the cell bars, keeping his hands behind his back, “You know you can’t get through that glass.”

“I know. Just like seeing how long I can stare at it.”

“Like the sun.”

“Closest thing I’ve got right now.”

Gary hesitated at that spot for a small moment, Kurt watching the whole scene. The prisoner and the guard kept eye contact throughout, eerily still.

Soon enough the trooper continued going down the hall, the second man following suit. At the end a heavy metal door was opened by a third guard and locked with a massive deadbolt about as thick as grown man’s arm.

“She thinks she can get through that glass. She’s up to something.” Gary confided to his second-in-command.

Kurt looked back at the door, then to his commander, “That’s about a foot thick, sir, and with wire meshing.”

“And I’ve seen primes put holes in tanks with their bare hands.”

“She doesn’t seem to be one of those types.”

“When do they ever, Kurt?”

***

“…and ehts been pre’y much like dat since forevah.” The thin man finished his exposition. “Whole bunch o’ fuckheads, all o’ ‘em, eff ya ask meh.”

The soldier somehow managed to slouch even further into wall, as if attempting to be absorbed into it. Her head laid back, eyes closed. Her hands came up together to rub them.

The thin man watched her. “The ‘elled ‘ou do tah piss ‘em off anyways?”

“Walked into town with an automatic rifle.” Aadibah replied, still rubbing her eyelids. After a moment they came back to her lap. The engineer stared into nothingness.

“Pfahh, figuh as much.” The thin man gave his final thoughts on the subject before going back to brooding in the corner.

The strategist kept her vision forward. Her eyes, her face grew harder as each minute passed.

[Paul Atreides]

Paul did not have to wait long, as his entrance and what he’d paid for his drinks with, had been designed to attract the sort of attention that he sought. Paul had only drank half of the glass before him before the sounds of jack boots on wood could be heard piling up stairs and spilling onto the floor.

“I count eight my Duke. Are you sure this is wise?” Gurney asked, not so much nervous as annoyed at the attention their normally stealthy little band had attracted. There was power in secrecy and when their band consisted of a Duke and two of his most loyal military men living on the outskirts of society- there wasn’t anyone with loose lips.

“Eight will do Gurney. Anything less and Paul won’t have the attention he needs. There are power in numbers.” Duncan said sagaciously, though he was easily 20 years Gurney’s junior. The older man crossed his arms at this and tipped back in his chair roughly.

“I still don’t like it Master Paul.”

Paul did not speak, he simply continued to drink his water peaceably while the eight men surrounded his little table in the corner. He looked up, flashing his blue within blue eyes of Spice addiction. There were seven guard, men wearing sandy military armor from a period at least comparable to his. They were wearing low-grade mechanized armor of some sort and even he could see that half the piece that should have moved were so clogged with sand that even an acid bath would do more harm than good at this point. So- they were for show. The final man was in some kind of mockery of finery. He wore a suit, but it was threadbare and dust caked. It might have, at one point, been someone’s pride and joy but now was more or less trash. More to the point it was thick trash, black in color, which was arguably the least practical sort of trash to wear in the desert. The fact that this man was wearing such impractical clothing meant that he had the money to supplement it and the level of authority where no one would question him about it. He was wearing it for show too. Good to know he was playing chess with amateurs.

“This your ring dirt-rat?” The pudgy ork in the threadbare suit asked, a gold ring with a small crest upon it between his sausage-like fingers. There was hatred in his eyes and malice in his heart- of this Paul was sure. Still, the adopted Fremen simply sipped at his water, appraising the ork in a casual way. It was a bit funny to Paul. His Fremen name, Muad'Dib was actually the name of a small desert kangaroo mouse on the planet Arrakis.

“LISTEN UP SHITHEAD! I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!”

Paul didn’t move even as the Ork put his tusks inches from his face. His breath was hot and potent- the vile stench of old carrion invading his nostrils. Still, Paul remained motionless.

“I think it was you who paid with this! And you know who that belonged to?! Red rodger! A man I hired to kill a sorry pile of lies and failure named Muad’dib! Now I haven’t heard from him in a few days and that makes me think he ain’t breathing anymore... you have anything to do with that?”

The ork in the suit’s voice got real soft and even closer. When Paul didn’t react, just taking another sip of his water with a slow smile on his face the ork snatched the glass from his, spit a hunk of discolored yellow phlegm in it, and slammed it back down on the table in pure rage.

The glass slamming on the table was like a race pistol going off. Paul blurred, using the weirding way, knocking two of the mechanized guards to the ground before slipping his crysknife from his sash and wrapping it around the ork’s massive head. At the same time, moving on some unspoken signal Gurney rendered two other men unconscious with a brutal leap that drove them to the ground. Duncan, graceful as ever, drew his pulse sword and disabled the mechanized armor of the remaining 4 guards- a talent his weapon was designed to do- watching them slump to the ground under their weight.

Paul still did not speak, simply keeping the dagger under the large ork’s- against the flesh of his neck. The ork swallowed hard, the razor sharp crysknife nicking the skin and drawing a bit of blood.

“I am a shadow in the desert. If you stand under me I will provide you with shade. If you try to run from me, you will find that I am the shadow of a great bird- one that will rend your flesh from your bones before I move on to cast my shadow upon another.”

The line was somewhat cryptic and more than a little poetic. He was playing to the ork’s sense of self-importance. He obviously felt that he was a proud, intelligent, man (creature) of high class. He’d hired the best guards (best he could) and got the best dress (best he could). He was weak though. The ork smirked.

“Well then humie. I better be staying in the shadow. What can I do fer you?”

Paul’s face was still cold. Somewhere behind him Gurney delivered another savage blow to the head of a guard who had thought it wise to try to sit up. The bar had emptied rather quickly as soon as the skirmish had finished.

“I want to know about the stars.”

‘Stars? There are plenty of them. Which one Mr. Shadow-in-the-desert?” The ork laughed.

“The one that fell from the sky.”

“Oh THAT star. Never seen it me-self.” The ork was begining to enjoy this. Paul couldn’t have that. He used voice on his next line.

“You will tell me what you know about the star that fell from the sky.”

The ork’s body went a bit rigid. Gurney stiffened. He didn’t like the witch-tricks his mother had taught Paul, he found it unnatural and didn’t like when Paul used them.

“The only thing I know is that there is a price on information about it. It’s a Empire contract. They have a garrison of Imperial soldiers in Carrefore. I was going to nab a few of them and see what they had on it so I could re-sell the information to people like you.”

He had sung like a bird. He had no will power. Even a regular man would have been able to resist him a LITTLE. This was just embarrassing for him and it showed on the ork’s face. Paul release him, but gave him one final command.


“Turn yourself in. Confess everything to the Sheriff.”

The Duke of House Atreides demanded, his bene gesserit use of voice was harsh and demanding- playing with the inflections to make the ork do what he wanted. The ork nodded and scuttled off, stumbling as he went, like he was being chased by a dog. Paul had scoped this place out before. It was more or less on the level, if you didn’t count the child slavery ring. They had hit their convoy yesterday. This was just the prize water from the dead.

“Duncan. Gurney. We are headed to Carrefore. Prepare to ride.”

“Never liked those Worms...” Duncan said with an uneasy look back over his shoulder at the guards.

[Aadibah]

“Apparently. City-side. Higher-ups. Already. Knew. Put out Contract. For start that fell.” A woman with green eyes and significantly shorter than her comrades standing around her and the computer she sat at moved her hands and fingers into various positions and alignments, forming the sentence.

“And we’re just now getting this info?” Shana mumbled.

“Connection. Shit. Out here.”

“This means other primes, primes not associated with the empire, could be coming around and creating a whole mess. Town’ll get swarmed and someone will start a fight.” Gary grumbled, putting one fist on the back of his hip, the other scratching the stubble on his chin. “Fuckin’ whoever is in charge of this shit needs to get fired.”

Kurt spoke up, “Perhaps we could take care of the contract ourselves? Cash in for some bonus pay.”

Shana shook her head. “That would never fly with command. We’d probably get a raise, but not the promised amount. Still would get rid of the prime magnet though.”

Gary nodded. “That’s our plan then. We go out, find the star piece, send it back to Courscant for whatever the hell they want it for.”

The woman with the green eyes began flashing signs again, “Bad idea. Empire. Don’t want. Troopers involved.”

“Elaborate Rose.” Everyone’s eyes fell on her.

“Don’t know. Just know. They want secret. Know that primes will be quiet.”

“And we won’t?”

“What I said. They didn’t say why.”

“They never do. Because we’re soldiers and we just take orders, right?” Shana spat out quietly. Gary shot her a look before gesturing for Rose to continue.

“Was last message though. Could delete. Could pretend we never got it.”

“Command would still be suspicious.”

“Could use a prime already here.”

That elicited a small pause from the whole group. All of them turned back to the cell block door.

“And we just pulled a new one in…”

Gary turned back to Rose, “Radio in Tony.”

***

“It ain’t joining lady. It’s more like… temporarily hiring.”

“And how the hell can you promise that you won’t put me in a position where I can’t walk away?” Aadibah eyes scanned every inch of the man. He was of darker complexion, his posture lazy as he slouched his chest against the back of the chair he’d pulled down the hall. His arms were folded across the top of the backrest, hands hanging loosely on either side.

“We’ll only keep you as long as we need ya!” Tony said again with a relaxed grin.

“And then put a bullet in the back of my head and leave me to rot in the sand.”

The trooper stiffened for a moment, his expression slacking. His smile returned after a moment, “W-well we don’t have a reason to do that either, ya know.”

“You have every reason.”

“U-h, well…” The man looked down to the floor, eyes still. A full half-minute passed before he looked back to the prime, “Well, you’re right about that.” He stood up from his chair, putting his armored elbows against the cell bars, maintaining the easy grin. “Far as I see things though, it’s either dying in here or dying out there.”

The woman failed to provide a rebuttal to this statement. Instead her mouth opened slightly, her eyes searching the air for an answer before eventually her jaw clamped shut. The soldier stood up, walking to the cell door.

“Fine. I’ll help you. All I ask is for is to let me go on my way.”

Tony pushed a key into the lock, the bars shuttering as the ball bearings grinded against the steel. “Smart choice, lady.”

“My name is Aadibah.”

“I know. Come with me, we’ll get your possessions back into your hands.”

The engineer was about to step forward, before the guard put a knife-hand into her chest. “Try anything, and you will die.” His entire posture, his tone had changed. His eyes were wide, staring into Aadibah’s own.

“Understood.”

“Good!” The smile and lazy stance came back, before he lead the way down the hall. The sound of bare feet slapping against concrete reverberated down the line of cells. The thin man lay still in his cell.

[Paul Atreides]

The desert rushed by at breakneck speeds as Paul stood stoically atop the great sandworm. He had the mask of his stillsuit on and his beige traveling cloak was flapping in the wind behind him.

“My duke... perhaps we should slow ourselves? We do not wish to tire the worm early...” Duncan said a little hesitantly as he clung to the carapace of the worm with his ropes. Paul did not answer. Duncan couldn’t understand- it was impossible for him to at this point in time. He didn’t get that this worm was not one of the wild sandworms of Arrakis but instead an extension of Paul’s own omni. The point was a fine one, but an important one. It was him that would tire from this strain, not the worm. He would explain it to Duncan in due time but for now he remained silent, seemingly deaf or indifferent to his swordmaster’s words.

The landscape had long since changed from the dusty dunes of the deep desert to the craggy badlands near the town with no name and now was beginning to moisten and he could see the occasional shrubs and stones. Soon they would need to dismount and let the worm go, their ride ended. Though an extension of his own power, he could only flex the logic behind the beast so much. Water would kill a worm and he had no interest in angering Shai Hulud, particularly not on a mission as auspicious as this one. Several minutes later, after a long stretch of riding, the three figures dismounted and let the worm sink back into the sand- returning to obscurity until Paul needed it again.

Carrefore made Paul uneasy. He was at home in the tall dunes of the deepest reaches of the desert but the savanna land they were now in was oddly unsettling to him. Too many little bits of motion. Dozens of animals, grass flicking, insects buzzing. He didn’t much care for it if he was being honest with himself. He liked the solitude the desert provided- even in a group you could be alone. There was something silencing about the desert air- something that stayed tongues and robbed men of the need for small talk. This place was busy and Paul needed to stay on edge. Especially since news that he was hunting for the star himself would probably eventually reach less than desirable ears as it started to make the rounds on the slum circuit of the Town with No Name.

Following one of the animal trodden watering paths to the Oasis, Paul paused for a moment a drank with one hand. It was good. Clean. Despite being near the village Paul felt it rejuvenate him. He nodded and his secondaries drank as well. There was no reason for it to be so clean- Omni probably wanted it this way... or this way at the moment. Who knew. Circling around he entered the village, the guards at the gate giving him and his two men odd looks.

“Haul.” One said, his Stormtrooper’s helmet making a hiss and click after speaking, as if from a radio.

Paul slowly turned his head and nodded to the man. In his helmet the trooper winced. Paul was using his understanding of the Bene Gesserit ways to exude an air of intimidation and respect in the man.

“W-what is your business in Carrefore?”

“Visiting.” Paul said confidently, his blue-within-blue eyes locked on the man’s even though his helmet. The other guard reached a hand towards Paul’s shoulder, Gurney’s hand going to a boot dagger and...

Paul made a sleight symbol with his hand and turned to look at the offending second guard.

“We need to search you for weapons.”

Paul nodded, “I have just my dagger. A utility thing really.” He explained with difference and the man patted him down, finding only the dagger. Examining it he handed it to the first guard who did the same.

“Well... don’t be causing trouble. How about you two? Any weapons?”

Paul had made them leave their weapon, promising to resummon the lasguns for them later and even the pulse sword for Duncan. Each presented the few small, utilitarian looking, blades they had and were let go as well.

Paul replaced the crysknife in his sash and turned to regard the two troopers, “I was told there was a garrison here who was paying quite well for the information about the star that fell... could you direct me to where the are?”

~ ~ ~

Gurney Halleck, the small and ugly man with the inkvine scar down the side of his face, knocked at the door to the garrison where (unbeknownst to Paul or his men) Aadibah was being held. Paul himself stood back a bit with Duncan at his side.

“Aye?! This the garrison asking for information ‘bout the star?” Came Gurney’s raspy old voice as he rapped loudly on the external door.

“Traveled all the way from the deep desert so the Imperium better be paying well!” He continued, though Paul remained stoic as always. He watched, hood down, and waited. Waited for what would come next.

[Aadibah]

“One AK-47 assault rifle with wood furniture, three full clips of seven-point-sixty-two by thirty-nine mill’ rounds. One standard issue military rucksack with desert camouflage pattern, containing various tools and parts I’m not gonna list. A standard issue military combat vest with a roll of duct tape and more tools, a pair of boots with socks, gloves with padded knuckles, and a really neat scarf.”

The trooper sitting behind the caged-in front “desk” with a concrete partition slid the items forward. Aadibah’s arms shot forward, and the keffiyeh was around her head and short-cut hair within a minute of multiple hand arm movements, fingers flitting about to set everything in place.

Tony and the other guard watched for around five minutes as the woman re-assembled herself. First were her socks and boots, laced up tightly, then the vest, then the items of her rucksack before the rucksack itself. The second she reached for her rifle, however, Tony’s hand shot forward and got between the rifle and its clips.

“I’ll be taking these.” His arm swiped them from the table into his other palm, gripping all three. Aadibah rolled her eyes before grabbing her rifle and slinging it.

“Like I would try any shit in here. I’d be-“

“Burnt to a crisp in five seconds. Now come on, the boss is waiting.” The pair turned about, leaving the guard at the desk to lean back into his chair and continue browsing something on his computer’s monitor.

Tony’s eyes flicked back and forth at Aadibah. “Are you some sort of engineer?”

“I’m a mechanic.”

“So you’re not in combat?”

“Never said that.”

“So you’re that kind of engineer.”

“What kind of engineer?”

“Replacing the starter while led is bouncing off the car.”

“Basically.”

There was a long trot down a wide hall with several doors, before the guard and the soldier finally reached a wider opening before a set of double steel doors.

Two guards were having a conversation shorter man with a scar on his face, mentioned something about a bounty.

“Ah, shit. They’re too soon.” Tony’s pace quickened. Aadibah followed close behind.

***

“Sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about. We haven’t received any word of a “falling star”.”

“Ya’ kidding me? About every damn beggar from here to the Town With No Name’s heard about it! And they’ve been talking that the empire wants info.”

“Well, I wasn’t told, and I don’t ca-“

Suddenly a gloved hand rested on the guard’s shoulder, and a man with dark skin stepped forward through the door.

“S-sir! This civilian is making a scene.”

“Let me handle it private.” The trooper stood in front of the short man with the scar on his face, behind him stood a woman with slightly lighter skin tone and dirty military garb and scarf over her head, holding a rifle with no clip.

The trooper with no helmet folded his arms, his left hand gripping three curved magazines. “You say you have information on the star?”