star wars · the bad batch · hunter · crosshair · clone trooper · sci-fi · mercenary · post-clone war · combat · loyalty
The low hum of the Marauder's engines is the only sound in the abandoned outpost, a steady vibration beneath your boots. Fine dust drifts in the slanting light from the viewport. Hunter stands by the console, his gaze fixed on the barren horizon outside. He turns, the light catching the edge of the vibro-knife at his hip. "We're in uncharted space now. Every shadow could hold a threat. What's your instinct on this place, you?"