Missing scene for an epic that never materialized. Crackship? Hell, yeah.
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On Carida, the induction ceremony for the Imperial Academy is fraught with tradition. The cadets enter its sacred cinderblock walls and are immediately yelled at for stupidity by the cadet staff. They take physical fitness tests and are screamed at for sloth by the testers, no matter how fast they run. They sign and initial innumerable forms (yelled at all the while by instructors who dislike their handwriting) and are haranged by relentless quartermasters for being too tall, too short, too wide, too narrow, for being anything other than standardized. Then there is the haircut.
Every cadet gets a haircut. Most cadets get the usual military cut. Of course, there's always some smarty who cuts it short. I guess they don't mind being bald.
"Enjoying the humiliation, Major?"
Major Kyp Durron glances at Cadet Colonel Vaas'ikar.
"I am, cadet. I see we have another Wookiee this year. How are the barbers doing with him?"
"He's enduring it stoically, sir."
"Who, the Wookiee or the barber?"
She smiles politely. "Waiting for anyone, sir?"
He grins, suddenly.
"Yes, actually. Baron Solo is sending his older son to be trained in my unit, and I want to get a look at him before he gets here. And there are a few others I want to get a feel for as well…"
The young Twi'lek woman shrugs gracefully.
"I will leave you to it, sir."
He nods goodbye and watches the various cadets' expression. The wookiee looks as if he would die, the Agamaran is resigned and the –
A girl looks at him expressionlessly. Her red hair is long, some of it in tiny braids. The barber is making short work of it, though. As the shining copper hair falls to the floor, he stares at her, and she stares back levelly. She's not afraid…
"What's wrong, cadet? Didn't your mother tell you it was rude to stare?"
She raises one eyebrow, somehow seeming solemn despite half her head cut short while the other is still long.
"My mother is dead, sir, and my grandmother told me that whatever you do, you should never look away."
And with that, he's up in her face, screaming.
"So your granny told you, huh? Well, I don't care what your granny told you, and neither should you! You are dirt, cadet, dirt. You look at me wrong, talk at me wrong, even walk at me wrong, and I'll have no problems stomping on you! Do you understand, cadet?"
She stiffens, and yells at the top of her lungs, "Sir, yes, sir!"
He circles around her, making her wait, and leans next to her ear, whispering to her in a poisonous tone of voice.
"Are you afraid, cadet? ARE YOU AFRAID?"
And just as quietly, she replies.
"No, sir. I am not afraid."
He shakes his head disgustedly.
"Get her out of my sight."
He watches her walk out of the barbershop, back straight and shorn head held high.
The barber chuckles, eyes white in his dark face.
"I do believe you are losing your touch, Major."
Kyp rubs his own head, cut military regulation so many years before…
"Oh, shut up."
And Kyp Durron put the girl out of his mind and waited for Jacen Solo.