Part Four: Forced

The four of them froze where they were. A second more insistent knock brought Imiary to her feet. The third rap had just started as she opened the door.

It was then that her worst nightmares solidified into the form of the Imperial officer standing in front of Imiary now.

"Ms. Lomblyn?" asked the senior officer in his cool, clipped voice.

"Yes," Imiary answered, fighting to keep her tone and expression neutral.

"Are," icy blue chips embedded in his face darted towards the datasheet he was holding in his hand before continuing to speak, "Deirean Lomblyn and Falren Janson here at present?"

Despite her efforts to hide her emotions, her face drained of colour slightly. Nodding, she reluctantly opened the door further. "We just finished dinner," she said quietly as the officer followed her inside.

None of the boys had moved from the table and when the officer marched in after Imiary, the level of tension in the room increased tenfold.

"Wes, go to bed," Imiary said quietly into the silent room. Wordlessly, the teenager left the room, but stayed within earshot of the kitchen.

The Imperial officer studied Deirean and Falren intently. "You two are both twenty-one standard years old, correct?" he asked in his cold, precise voice.

"Yes, sir," they both answered.

"Yet neither of you applied to join the Imperial Academy," he paced towards until he was standing directly of Falren and Deirean. "Why?" the wording make it sound like a request, but the tone turned it to a demand.

"Because we'd rather stay here and work on the farms," Deirean said, hiding his crossed fingers out of the Imperial's line of sight.

"And I have to look after my brother as well," Falren added. The officer eyed them both for a few moments.

"I am here to inform you that you have both been drafted into the Imperial Naval Academy on Carida," he said eventually, his face empty of emotion. "Your transport leaves tomorrow at 1700 hours."

Imiary's face went a pasty-looking white and Deirean and Falren's eyes widened. Tomorrow? Not even twenty-four hours.

"But," Falren stammered, getting desperate. "My brother-"

"Will be taken care of, I'm sure," the Imp finished smoothly, shooting a calculating look in Imiary's direction. "I expect to see you tomorrow," he said, a veiled threat audible in his voice. "There will be... consequences, if you do not comply." With that, he turned sharply and left the three of them standing in a somber silence.

As soon as he heard the front door snap shut a minute later, Wes re-emerged from his hiding place. "You're not going to go, are you?" he asked desperately, glancing wildly from Falren, to Deirean and to Imiary.

He was met with silence from all three.

"You can't!" he exclaimed. "You can't!"

"It seems that the choice has been taken away from us this time, Wes," Deirean croaked out.

"But-"

"No, Wes," Falren's voice cracked a little. "Didn't you hear him? We'll be in all sorts of trouble if we don't. And when an Imp says trouble, you know it won't be pretty"

"Wes," Deirean captured the teenager's attention. "Think of it this way, if we train, we can defect to the Rebellion with some proper skills."

Wes just looked at him bleakly, all his vestiges of merriness striped from his face. "But they'll kill you," he whispered.

Falren got up and embraced his brother tightly. "Wes," he said quietly as he released him. "Look at me." Wes slowly complied, raising his eyes from his feet until they met with Falren's hazel-green eyes. "They'd have to catch us first," he reminded Wes gently. "And what's one thing we've gotten really, really good at?" he asked his brother, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Wes mirrored his expression. "Hiding," he answered in a near whisper.

Falren managed to muster up a grin, albeit a weak one. "Exactly. Now, we'd better hit the sack."

Wes nodded, yawning slightly as he headed towards the room that he and Falren still shared.

Imiary moved away from her spot next to Deirean and placed a gentle hand on Falren's shoulder. "I'll look after him, Falren, I promise you that."

Falren's eyes darted towards Imiary. "I know you will," he said softly. "Thank you."

Silence then dominated the room. None of the remaining occupants really knew what to say to each other, all locked into their own tangled thoughts. Eventually though, they all drifted towards their rooms.

As he walked into the room, Falren was relieved to hear gentle snores coming from the other side of the room. He didn't think he could take the questioning Wes would surely be giving him, if he were awake.

He fell onto his bed with a sigh. It had finally happened. Both Deirean and he had guessed sometime ago that it would come down to this, and they though they had been ready for something like this to happen. They'd been so wrong.

Why was it that whenever you thought you were expecting the worst to happen, life always managed to turn around and deliver it in a way that stung just as bad, if not worse?

Tossing restlessly, Falren drifted into an uneasy slumber, his dreams full of imposing figures, dark shadows and infinite uncertainties.

Not one review from the last chapter... something, anything, please?

Misha