What are the perks of being a rebel you ask…? What's the point of doing all this if people whose last name isn't Skywalker never get to do anything more than crash ships into enemy bases and die painfully, all without ever even being in the same room as a lightsaber…? Let me tell you…
Let me tell you what actual rebels told me when asked Why exactly did you join?
"Maybe I could somehow stomach living in a galaxy where everyone wears ridiculous matching outfits… big maybe. But I will absolutely not wear a damn helmet over my face. I mean look at this thing. Gorgeous, isn't it? This needs to be shared with the universe, not hidden away…"
"Being on this side means I don't have to deal with people who can use force. Which is fine with me… That thing is just… I mean seriously, what is it? Space magic? It's space magic isn't it…? And it makes you evil. Yeah, I think I'll pass."
"I'm not from a desert planet, but just because it's wasn't covered in sand doesn't mean the place wasn't miserable. It was. The worst. The kind of place you hope gets on someone's places-to-test-our-doomsday-weapon-on list… So yeah, I joined the rebels. I'd have joined anyone if it got me off that hellhole."
"Originally I signed up to piss off my parents. But working here you find out you might not have the worst parents in the universe… Excuse me for a second, I need to call my dad… thank him for putting up with my whiny teenage bullshit without ever considering cutting off my arm…"
"Are you seriously asking a ginger why she joined the cause? You know why I joined. You know exactly why you suddenly had an army of redheads at your door ready to volunteer for any suicide mission just to prove the universe that not all of us are yelling sociopaths…"
"Simple. If I'm going to die it's not going to be covered in white plastic."
"I was supposed to have a nice, low-risk office job at the new base, you know. That was before they told me there were no pets allowed. How could I not join the resistance? Screw the job security. If the First Order wants me to get rid of my cat we have a problem."
"Oh, I didn't want to be a rebel. None of us did. Grandpa made us join up. He used to work for Palpatine back in the day and apparently he once caught him saying Good, good... Let the hate flow through you. Yeah. Those exact words in that creepy voice. That's why we fight. So people who can say shit like that with a straight face aren't the ones running the galaxy."
"To be honest, it's the job safety. There's never been a single case of people getting force-choked around here. You can't get that kind of deal with the other camp."
"I had to join because all my relatives did. And you know what it's like with relatives. You lose a sight of them and next thing you know they're trying to cut off your limbs…"
"We need to fight them now, before they get too smart for us. I mean they've been really killing it lately. They finally figured out it's easier to hollow out a planet then to build a Death Star from scratch. Before long they're going to lose interest in all this force nonsense and then we're screwed…"
"I'm here because my parents heard me joke about changing my name and they signed me up for this outfit before I could join the Dark Side. I know, right? Parents with no sense of humor are the worst… Oh fine, maybe not the worst. But they're right there with parents that cut off your limbs…"
Real quotes from real rebels. Getting the picture yet?
"Will you please explain to me what did I just read?" asked general Organa in a surprisingly calm voice.
"You read the kind of recruitment literature we should have floating around. The rest of the galaxy has weird ideas about us. We need to let them know that you don't have to be noble or idealistic to join the Resistance. If we show them that no matter how stupid their reasons for joining up sound even to them there are people who joined exactly for the same reason…"
She raised up her hand to stop me before my explanation turned into a monologue. Her expression was thoughtful rather than the I-can't-believe-you-wasted-my-time-with-this kind of exasperation I was expecting. After a moment she nodded to herself. "I think you might have something here…Of course I'll need to see the other version too," she added.
"General?"
"The version with all the statements you left out to spare my feelings. I'd like to read it before I make my final decision."
"I… uh… I'd rather not. It's…" I looked anywhere but at her while trying and failing to find the right word. I really hoped that letting a few references to her family history into this version would distract her from the fact that what I put together here was pretty mild. I kept the really upsetting stuff to myself and with a very good reason.
Reading through most of the statements I collected over the last few weeks I felt very much like giving up the whole rebellion and going home - since we clearly had no hope of winning. Not with the galaxy's biggest idiots fighting alongside us.
Of course she just gave me a look that made me take out the other, longer copy without any further protests.
"Well," she said almost to herself. "That was enlightening. Who knew that this many of us have joined on a dare…"
"I know, right? Pretty sobering to learn how many of us did not mean to end up in the middle of a galactic war," I said. And shut myself up before I could get too far with that train of thought. No one ever meant to end up in a galactic war. But with the First Order hell-bent on fitting us all into matching outfits what other choice did we have, really?
"Send it out," said Leia handing me my original, not-too-depressing document.
"Yes, ma'am," I nodded and started retreating.
Back out there among all those crazy, self-destructive people alongside which I was going to die one of these days. I would feel pretty good about myself just then, but I just happened to run into a guy I knew for a fact joined because our pilots uniforms were orange, which was his favourite colour.
And I just made sure we'll have more people like that showing up to join the cause… "What have I done?"