''I'm not sure this is going to work.''
Kirbley looked with pain in his eyes at some brain scans on his computer screen in his temporary office aboard the Eagle Claw. The fluorescent lights dimly light up the room as a large window with round edges lets in the light of a nearby star.
''This is just not good,'' said Kirbley, then turned his head to look at his father.
''Explain to me,'' replied his father.
Kirbley looked down at the scans again and then sighed. ''So, the test takers were all dropped on Kaltor 3 together with Imperial forces as part of the experiment,'' he explained. ''They were following Stormtrooper squads on the ground to see how they, the test takers, would react to a firefight. We kept monitoring their brain activity and heart rate during this whole ordeal, and I can conclude that all the test takers couldn't function properly after an overload of fear. They all experienced too much stress in the experiment. Just look at these scans.''
Kirbley turned around his computer screen to his father. His father leaned on the table with his hand to bend over and look closer.
''These highlighted areas indicate high brain activity,'' said Kirbley, pointing with his pen at some coloured areas. ''Yellow is average, orange is medium, red is high, purple is very high, and black is above all of that.''
The scans showed the brain of a test taker before and after the test. In the after shot, multiple areas in the test taker's brain were red, purple, and black.
''And these are the results of an Imperial incursion,'' said Kirbley ''An all-out war on the battlefields is something entirely different, so imagine how the test takers would react to that. This is just not healthy.''
His father nodded, shifting his head away towards the window to think.
''There are solutions for that,'' said his father, shifting his head back.
''Father, we're talking about teenagers. Teenagers in war. You want teenagers to serve in Night Force. The only solution I see is to leave them out of Night Force, have them train at the Academy until they're grown up.''
''I see more solutions. We'll take more measures to improve their health and functionality. Son, let me help you. Did you question the test takers?''
''Yes, I did, but I couldn't find anything substantial.''
''What came out?''
Kirbley sighed.
''So, I asked them what stressed them out, and why they think their brain activity is so high. I expected to get an obvious answer. I thought they were all just too scared of the blaster fire, scared of dying. They all said that but also that they were too scared of-''
Kirbley then took a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest.
''-scared of the impact on their parents' lives after they die. The initial death wasn't the only factor, it was the lives of their parents their death would heavily influence. Teenagers are too dependent on their parents, even if they're able to not get homesick when they're gone for days or weeks without them.''
His father thought. He hesitated to say it, but he went on nonetheless.
''How about teenagers who lost their parents? Orphans?''
He slightly expected to get such an answer from his father, but Kirbley was shocked nonetheless, even a little bit disgusted and his face showed it.
''That's not the solution you have in mind I hope?''
''We can train them to be less scared of war, but we can't train them to forget their parents. Recruiting orphans eliminates that problem.''
''Father, we can't put them in another nightmare. Orphans are already experiencing too many things they shouldn't. Night Force is something totally different from the Academy. There you first train them until they're mature enough. Night Force puts them on the battlefields within a year of their training.''
Kirbley then turned around on his office chair and stared out into space through the window to clear his mind.
''Son, orphans have nobody to lose. That can push the teenagers enough through the training program of Night Force.''
Kirbley didn't answer. His father sighed.
''Son, they believe in us. Our orphans believe in the Empire. They are our children, living in constant fear because of the current war and the Rebel Alliance.''
That is what made Kirbley think. They truly are our children, he thought. They believe in us, and they want to do something for the Empire, and only they can do something others can't. Teenagers with parents wouldn't be able to survive on the battlefield at such an early age, but orphans, well, their loss and grief can push them just enough.
''Fine,'' said Kirbley, swinging his chair around to his father, ''but make me the leader of the program, not you or any other military officer.''
His father thought. He seemed offended that Kirbley didn't want him to be in charge of his own idea, but he had no other choice. A psychologist is better at examining the health of orphans than an admiral, so his father accepted Kirbley's demand. ''That's fine. You are in command of Night Force now.''
''And promise me I have full control over it,'' said Kirbley. ''I decide how it's all done. Research, development, operation, everything.''
His father nodded. ''I promise that.''
His father then turned around and walked out of the office, leaving Kirbley alone. Kirbley turned his seat around to look out of the window, and then let out a heavy sigh. Night Force is not the best plan. Having teenagers on the battlefield isn't really good in the first place, solutions to solve that aren't really obvious, and there are unforeseen consequences to all of this, thought Kirbley. He rather wanted to stop with Night Force, but he didn't have much choice. The fear of the Rebel Alliance hunting them constantly grew in the back of his mind, spreading like a tumor he couldn't remove nor cure. He put his hand palm on his head and sighed.
''What have I started upon,'' whispered Kirbley, disappointed in himself, but he knew he had no choice but to make the best out of the worst.