AT:M9 The chromed helmet made him a military policemen, Tentin knew that. He hadn’t know mercenary forces had them, though.

“I never realized how professional this army is,” Tentin said. “Are most units like this?” The policeman dropped his hand and smiled slyly. “Not by a long-measure. General Pakit’s skill has always been organization, I’ve heard.” Tentin returned the smile, made to turn to go, and realized he didn’t know where. He settled on a half-shuffle to disguise the error. “I’d like to make some quick notes before we go, if you don’t mind.” The mowril jerked his chin up. “Of course. I’ll hop inside and grab a few fish for dinner. I’ll be in the room next to you.”