He stands up, dusts himself off. Then someone taps him on the shoulder. Uh-oh. He turns. There stand two more stormtroopers, rifles up. And behind them come a pair of red-helmeted Imperial Guards. Their cloaks sweeping the floor behind them. “Hey, guys,” Temmin says, giving a fake laugh. “Is this not the twelve thirty space-bus to the Ordwallian Cluster Casino? No? Ooh. Awkward!” He turns and runs.
