Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm Ltd., itself property of The Walt Disney Company. I make no lucrative nor commercial use of my writings in relationship with the Star Wars license.

It only took a couple of days for Luke to realise exactly how busy the job was.

Since his arrival, it seemed he hadn't had one minute for himself. Between advanced formation training, operation meetings, and his various other duties, every hour was crammed full. To his dismay, he had quickly realised flying was not even the biggest part of the work. Every outing had to be carefully planned and debriefed, even things as simple as patrolling. The good part was they were all on the same starship, so to speak; whenever he had trouble with something, there was always a helping hand held out to him. Luke would of course always return the favour later, and he was learning fast. He could feel his peers appreciated his goodwill and upbeat attitude.

There was one thing, however, he wished he never had been acquainted with, and that was datawork.

Luke sighed and passed a hand on his face, staring at the security report he had to fill in. He'd had to check the fighters to make sure they were in order, and had in fact enjoyed that part. Mechanics were something he'd always been at ease with. An ion engine, when you looked at it the right way, was not all that different from a vaporator; and Luke had been so obsessed with starships when he was younger he knew them all inside out. But the amount of forms that came with that duty was downright baffling. He was still struggling to figure out what to write, how to do it and whom to send it to.

Luke stretched on his chair, keenly feeling his muscles work. For a moment, he brushed the idea of leaving the report for later and going for a good workout instead. He had neglected his physical shape a little in the previous days, anyway, as he adapted to his new environment. He knew he needed to get back to it soon if he didn't want to fall behind the regs.

Looking down, he noticed with a twinge of annoyance that the upper fastening of his uniform had detached itself for the second time that day, and the right section of his double-breasted tunic was hanging at the front. He hastened to close it again, making a note to replace the clip as soon as possible.

No, he had to finish this now. He seized once more all the determination he could, dove into the document, and started to type. Why did the Imperial Navy have such a hatred for plain and simple Basic?

He had managed to complete half the document correctly, or at least as much so as he could, when he heard footsteps in the corridor. Realising he'd been slouching, he straightened in his seat, but relaxed when he saw Backstabber approach him. He knew the red-headed pilot couldn't care less about his posture.

"Hey, FNG," he said. "Was looking for you. We're all set for hyperspace, wanna come and see?"

"What? The departure?" Luke asked. He knew their stop at Ank Kit'aar had only been a temporary one for maintenance and resupplying. They were now heading back to more troubled areas of the galaxy. But he hadn't expected his work to stop as they travelled.

"What else?" Backstabber answered with a smirk, before adding when he saw Luke's conflicted face. "Lt. Tanbris cleared us."

Luke bit his lip in hesitation.

"I don't know... I've still got this thing to finish."

"It won't last much longer than ten or fifteen minutes, then you can get back to it," Backstabber insisted. He put a bony hand on his shoulder. "Come on, you really wanna miss your first jump?"

Luke didn't immediately answer. In truth, he really didn't want to miss it. The rare times he'd been in hyperspace, it had been in the passenger area, where there weren't any viewports. To say he was curious was an understatement.

But he wasn't sure he could afford it... how long would it take him to finish this datawork? Ten minutes had to be fine...

"All right," he conceded with a smile at last, before putting his datapad down and rising from his chair. "I'm coming."

He followed Backstabber through the monotonous corridors of the ship. They walked across the empty docking bay, which seemed much bigger to Luke with most of the ships stocked in the hangars, and headed to the control room.

There was but one officer there. He shot them a questioning look, but after Backstabber gave him a short explanation, he nodded and went back to his work. They settled next to a secondary viewport, and Backstabber stood on the side so Luke could have a good view.

"It's a tradition for pilots on their first assignment to watch the ship jump," he told Luke. "I still remember mine. I was not much older than you, I was stationed on the Crusader when she came back from her maiden voyage. Couldn't tear my eyes off it. They say you can go mad if you stare at it for too long."

Luke nodded, not sure he believed that last statement. Spacers were after all known to be superstitious. Outside, space was as dark as it always was, only punctured by the small bright dots that were the stars.

Then something seemed to shift, and next to him, Backstabber smiled.

"There," he whispered.

And Luke felt it. The pull in the pit of his stomach, as though a hook had taken him there and dragged him backwards. Even more surprising was the view in front of him. The stars had begun to stretch, unfolding into thin threads of light that spun and raced madly towards him, a kaleidoscope of blue and white. Mesmerised, he stared at them, trying to catch sight of them all while knowing how impossible that was.

Backstabber tapped his shoulder.

"We should get back now," he said.

They exited the control room the same way they'd entered it.

"Thanks," Luke said with a genuine smile. "That was amazing."

Backstabber offered him a crooked grin of his own in return.

"I know."

They crossed the docking bay in silence. Now that he paid attention to it, Luke noticed the ever-present noise in the hangar was a little different. There was a sharper buzzing to it, more shrill, yet so faint it was barely audible.

They were about to reach the large blast door when Luke noticed something that made him falter in his step.

On the other side of the bay, talking with an officer, was the tall and ominous shape of Darth Vader. Clad in black, a wide cape falling to his ankles, the man, if he truly was one, seemed listening to his interlocutor. He had his back turned to them, and even in this passive stance, held a crushing presence that dominated the whole empty bay.

Luke stared at him for a second, intimidated. Then Vader seemed distracted by something. He turned his head sharply, allowed the young man a glimpse of his mask's profile. A shiver ran down Luke's spine, as if cold tendrils had wrapped themselves around him and started poking at his limbs. Unsettled, he decided he'd rather be found at his station than here, no matter how authorised he was.

Backstabber threw him a questioning glance as he caught up to him.

"What's up?" he asked.

Luke only shrugged, unable to put his discomfort into words.

They made their way back with small talk and light banter, until Backstabber left Luke to see to his duties. The young man thanked him once more then went on his way, his head still full of fascinating images.

Real life took over when he came back to his abandoned datapad, and he groaned. Datawork was such a pain.

An hour later, Luke had finally figured out the gist of it and sent it on with great relief, glad to have that behind him. He was munching on a ration bar and pondering the rest of his day when Chaser strolled in the room and greeted him. Luke swallowed his mouthful, then returned a joyful "hello" to him.

"Backstabber took me to see the jump," he said, eager to share the wonder he felt.

Chaser threw him a huge smile.

"Ah," he said, with the air of someone who knew exactly what Luke was talking about. "You enjoyed it?"

"It was fantastic!" Luke replied. "I wish I could do it again. Not that it's likely, with everything we've got to do. Do you know where we're going?"

"No idea," Chaser said. He dropped onto the bench next to him. "They didn't tell us. I'm glad we're gone, I hate idle missions where we barely do any flying."

"Tell me about it." Luke tried to imitate the older pilot's nonchalance, but it came out as excited anyway. Chaser chuckled.

"I can't wait to gun down some Rebels, don't you?"

He made a blaster gesture with his hand. Luke's stomach dropped.

"Sure," he said. He looked away and took the last bite of his bar.

"I still don't understand why they bother," Chaser continued. The hatred in his voice made Luke ill at ease. "I can't wait until the day we're rid of these kriffing nuisances. They should all be sent to Kessel, at least there they'd do something useful for society."

Luke didn't say anything, a knot in his guts. As much as he disagreed with the Rebels, he had never managed to summon such heated feelings towards them. Many of his fellow cadets had held this sort of speech, but never with that much passion. The deep-running animosity Chaser displayed made him shiver.

Unfortunately, his fellow pilot seemed to have noticed his discomfort.

"You all right?" he said, frowning. His thick eyebrows formed a line across his forehead.

"Yeah, great," Luke said, trying to conceal his sarcasm. He managed to muster a smile, and hoped Chaser wouldn't see through it. "It's nothing."

Chaser threw him a dubious look, but didn't comment.

Still, the air felt stifled and heavy. Guilt had taken Luke in the chest, but he couldn't make sense of it. He supposed he ought to share Chaser's point of view, like everyone in the Empire, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He had never been able to, despite everything he'd told his best friend back then.

"You're going to be fine," Chaser said. His voice was softer, to Luke's relief. "I know what they say at the Academy, about newbies not lasting more than five minutes, but that's just to scare you. They want you to know what you're getting into."

"I know," Luke said, his tone dryer than he'd intended to. He didn't want Chaser patronising him right now. He rose up from his seat, put his wrapper in the bin with a bit too much force. "You don't have to worry about me."

He was about to leave the room when Chaser called him back.

"Hey, easy!" he said, looking at him in astonishment. "What's got you so worked up?"

"Nothing," Luke retorted before he could help himself. He tried to stop his hands from shaking. "I just have better things to do than to sit here fantasising about shooting people down."

He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. The guilt roiled in his stomach when he saw Chaser's gaze darken.

"That's the kind of reasoning that gets you killed in less than five minutes in battle."

"I know," Luke replied. "In battle. Thing is, we're not in battle. And they're people, too! How can you be so cold about it?"

"How can I be so cold about it?" Chaser retorted, and Luke flinched. "Do you have any idea how many squadmates I have seen shot down by them? They're agitators! Criminals! They kill law-abiding citizens each time they disagree with anything! And I'm the cold one for wanting to stop their madness?"

"That's not what I meant!" Luke hurried to say. "I don't like what the Rebels do either! They have it all wrong, and I hate that we're at war because of them. But..."

"But what?" Chaser challenged, glaring at Luke, his arms crossed. He was still sitting on the bench, and despite standing higher than him, Luke felt tiny under his gaze. "Tell me, FNG, why did you join the Navy?"

Luke's heart missed a beat. Suddenly I wanted to fly felt like a silly answer. His instructors had never accepted it, in any case, and Luke doubted Chaser would.

But that was only scratching the surface, wasn't it? Luke had made his choice knowingly. He had been aware it would come to this, of what he would have to do. He had dreaded it for a long time. He had gone on anyway, certain it was the right thing to do.

It didn't make things any easier.

"I want to stop the Rebels," he said. "I just... I'm just not looking forward to killing them."

Smiling faces and laughs appeared in his mind, easy camaraderie long past, and his stomach contorted.

Chaser sighed. Luke looked at him, and was relieved to see his face had softened.

"I understand," he said. "I'm sorry I got mad. That's a normal feeling. The first blood is always the hardest. But you'll get used to it."

Luke nodded, but the words were more sinister than comforting to him. His rows with Biggs and the others at the Academy seemed so long ago now, like innocent children's games. Of course, he had always known it would come down to life and death, to killing or being killed. But it felt much realer, now that he could hear it in Chaser's voice and knew it would be his turn all too soon.

"Hey," his squadmate said, noticing his sombre mood. "You wanna have a mock fight in the sims? That's why I'd come in the first place. I still need an hour to be clear and I'd thought maybe you'd enjoy a game."

Luke smiled, hoping that would take his mind off their previous conversation.

"Sure," he said.

"Great," Chaser replied, standing up. "By the way, your shirt's open."

Luke swore under his breath. He closed his uniform once more, then hurried to follow Chaser out.

As expected, he felt much better as soon as he got into the flight simulator's cockpit. It was easy to forget about the hard parts of war, soaring in space and knowing the only thing exploding before his eyes was points of data. Chaser had chosen a few battles for them to re-enact, and as hours of finely honed training kicked in, Luke's mind was entirely focused on the challenge. Soon there was no other tension between them than the adrenaline of the competition, friendly rivalry, and a strong desire to win in each of them.

They sparred for a little more than an hour. Still, it ended far too early for Luke, with a tie they argued with vehemence.

"Nah, FNG, you lost, you get stuck with filing it in. That was the deal," Chaser said on their way back to the pilots' living room.

"No way, you lost," Luke retorted. "C'mon, I saved your ass in the last battle like the good wingmate I am, you'd have been destroyed otherwise."

Chaser snorted, gave Luke a slap in the back that sent him a step forward.

"Not my fault you didn't understand the concept of competition," he said, laughter softening the sharp edges of his face. "I took down the most enemies, I win."

"I did it just so you wouldn't feel wiped out by a kid half your age," Luke bit back. "I may have killed one or two less fighters than you, but I took down all the most powered-up of them, those that count for double the points, so I win."

"You just made that up," accused Chaser.

"I didn't and you know it!"

"Nah, that's not how it works. You better accept your defeat gracefully or I'll have to report you for immature conduct."

Luke shook his head, half aggravated, half biting back a smile.

"Why you hypocritical, dishonest piece of bantha –"

He stopped dead in his tracks, his playful mood disappearing in an instant. A few feet ahead of them, Darth Vader was exiting a conference room, a commander with an oblong face and shadowed eyes on his heels. Both he and Chaser snapped at attention, but Vader didn't respond to them at once. He stopped in front of them with deliberate slowness, his hands behind his back as he watched them without a word. His mechanical breath rang loudly in the silence of the grey-walled corridor. Luke's heart was running with fright.

"Ensigns," he finally greeted them. "I expect you have a reason for displaying such undignified behaviour."

"No, my lord, we do not," Chaser replied. "We apologise. It won't happen again."

"See to it that it does not. I will not condone this childishness on my ship," Vader said, pointing an ominous finger towards them.

Luke swallowed at the unspoken threat in his voice. From this close, the man seemed impossibly tall, his suffocating presence taking up the whole corridor. Luke forced himself to remain still, at perfect attention, even as the mask started to study him. He kept his eyes forward, feeling like a mouse under a lothcat's gaze.

"What is your name?" Vader asked him.

"Luke Lars, sir," Luke answered, the knot in his gut tying itself tighter with every passing moment.

"Tell me, Ensign Lars," Vader continued, his metallic tone soft, but with a dangerous edge to it. "Do you consider your appearance appropriate to greet your commanding officer?"

Luke frowned, not understanding the question. He was about to ask for clarification when a gesture from Vader prompted him to glance down at his uniform. His heart missed another beat.

Once again, his tunic had fallen open, a whole section of the thick black fabric hanging negligently at the front, mocking him. Its weight was pulling on the second fastening, which seemed on the verge of detaching itself as well.

His mouth dry, he hastened to fix the clip on his shoulder again. It fell down once more as he tried to set it into place, seconds stretching with unbearable slowness. Finally, it was all in place again. He returned at attention, looking straight at Vader, his face as blank as he could despite the terror shaking him inside.

Vader remained still for a long time, and Luke had to call on all his courage to stay upright and not to shrivel down. The lack of response from Vader seemed to spell unspeakable doom. His imagination was running wild, unhelpfully, with all the horror stories he had heard about him.

"Beware, young one," he warned at last, sending chills down Luke's spine. "You would do well to behave if you do not wish to incur my displeasure."

He then walked away without one more word. The commander quickly responded to their salute with a pitying glance at them, then followed Vader on his way.

When they turned the corner, Luke released the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was somewhat marvelling at still being alive.

"Man, that's some first impression," commented Chaser. "I knew you were someone with a talent to get in trouble."

Luke shrugged, trying to throw away the rest of his nervousness with the gesture.

"I do my best," he grinned sheepishly.

Chaser scoffed.

"That's all and well, but we still have a debrief to do. And you should really fix that uniform," he said with a nod at Luke's shirt.

Luke agreed, and they returned to their squadron quarters in companionable silence.