Lieutenant Walters stared straight ahead in typical Imperial fashion as his line stopped before the raised platform. His fellow cadets followed his example with rigid detail. They had been waiting for this moment for years. Four years to be exact. Four long years.
"Graduates of the Imperial Academy on Carida, you have spent the last four years of your life training and working for this moment. Once you receive your diploma, you will all be fully-fledged members of the Imperial Armed Forces. Make us proud in your duty, your actions, and your lives.
"You, you cadets, represent the pinnacle of education and soldiery. Your pre-combat experience and knowledge surpasses what most know from firsthand encounters."
Live fire training at the beginning of the second semester. A third of the cadets were seriously injured; eleven fatally so.
"You have braved adversity that would utterly destroy lesser men."
I can still feel the 500 kilo beam that crushed my sergeant. It was our first day in the field.
"Your training was hazardous and extreme, yet you conquered."
The dropout rate was 50; mostly enforced.
"Your hours were spent studying and training your bodies for the rigors of the life ahead."
Mid-term tests averaged a 13 passing rate.
"In your final months at the Academy, you were sent out on real missions that tested your mettle. All of you surpassed our expectations, and completed your duties with amazing results."
We lost nine out of ten men on Derra VII. The mission turned out to be a dud, too.
"You took casualties, lost friends, and suffered greatly during your stay here."
I've had seven different roommates in four years.
"But you, you cadets standing here, have triumphed and emerged as a shining star to the Empire. Your examples have encouraged our citizens and frightened those that would seek to hinder our plans to unite the galaxy. These terrorists want anarchy and chaos to prevail in the universe."
I'd hardly call that teenage girl a terrorist. More like a refugee forced to fight.
"Indeed, in your ranks are those that have excelled beyond the others. These chosen few have displayed unparalleled loyalty, strength, and honor in the face of tremendous adversity.
"In accordance with this, I have the honor of presenting Lieutenant Jay Walters from Derra VII with the Order of the Imperial Cross, for his unsurpassed performance as a team leader in a daring raid on his home planet.
"A sect of terrorist sympathizers usurped the loyalist government in a violent attempt to seed chaos and terror against our citizens. Then-Ensign Walters led a Special Operations counter-terrorist unit into the capitol and neutralized the Rebel leadership.
Amanda, my next-door neighbor. Ryken, that lovable idiot that always managed a practical joke at the wrong times. So many more.
"In a complete show of loyalty, he even executed his father, who helped arm the Rebel sympathizers."
He had been gunned in the stomach against my orders. There wasn't anything to do. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He was in so much pain. So many friends died that day.
"Without his command, the Rebels would have started a long and bloody war on the surface of Derra VII."
Instead I lost all of my family, all of my childhood friends, all of my life.
General Mohc stepped down from the platform and Walters stepped forward one pace from the rest of the line. With a solemn nod and a firm handshake, Mohc slipped the cross into his hand.
"Take this with you, Walters." He said quietly, so the reporter droids wouldn't hear. "Take this as a reminder of what the Empire stands for."
Lieutenant Walters pinned the medal onto his magnetic bar and saluted without a word.
Four hours later, as he sat in his room while the others partied, Lt. Walters flipped the medal over in his hands.
…What the Empire stands for.
A face appeared in the medal, strong and cold. His vision blurred as he silently wept at the sight reflected on the metal. Gone was the boyish youth that had left the spaceport on the rundown world. Gone was the teenage boy that was ever optimistic and cheerful. That kid had died long ago. Four years ago to be exact. All that remained was the cold, brutal commando that had replaced him.
Is the Empire really worth this? Does the Empire really stand for what it says it does?
His computer monitor flashed white as a message popped up on the screen. The message gave him an outlet for his mind, so he brought it up. The words stunned him.
"The Emperor regrets to inform you that your father, Micah Walters, was killed during a Rebel raid. No further information is available at this time. If you wish to speak with a therapist one will be made available upon request. To apply for compassionate leave select 'Cadet Initiated Administrative Requests' from the main menu and press 'enter.' Choose 'Compassionate Leave,' provide the appropriate information, and attach this message."
The medal that had previously been clamped on his bar fell from his nerveless grasp as he read the message. All at once his mind was made up.
To heck with this. The Empire doesn't stand for anything as far as I'm concerned.
It took five minutes to pack. Once outside of the Academy grounds, he entered the nearest spaceport.
Five years later he was in a small Corellian blockade runner. The men under his command rushed forward and took cover behind whatever cover they could find as the steady sound of the torch thrummed through the air. He wished that he had been given another assignment. The Tantive IV was a ship that he had vehemently argued against boarding. Now he faced the death that had been haunting him since his escape from Carida.
"Get ready men," he called out. "Kill anyone that comes through that door. For the Princess!"
His men's' cheer was interrupted as the door gave a final shudder and exploded inwards. A hail of blaster fire poured into the ship, killing several of his men instantly. The survivors sent a steady stream of lasers into the hole, but the damage was done. A never ending line of stormtroopers piled through the door, guns blazing. Walters took careful aim and snapped off a shot at the lead officer. The man gurgled in surprise as the round took him in the throat. Three stormtroopers overpowered him before he could switch targets, pinning him to a bulkhead.
The lead stormtrooper scanned his face and said something into his comlink that Walters couldn't hear. The troopers released him and he tumbled to the ground. A pair of shining black boots moved into view. Walters' heart quickened as he looked up; right into the horrible black face-mask of Darth Vader.
"So ends a traitor's life." The man said. "I hope you will find it painful."
Despite all of the fear tugging at him, Walter s managed a brave face. "At least I know it was worth the cost."
Vader casually waved his hand aside and Walters felt the bones in his neck snap. Lights burst in his eyes as the ground rushed forward to meet him. As he hit the ground, He thought almost apologetically.
It was worth it to my father.