He fought in the military for the same reason as you, serving his superiors and protecting what they've built. Once upon a day, he and his men were sent out on a mission to re-capture a Separatist-occupied city. He was the only one to return. Medics concluded he developed PTSS.
It's not what you believe it is. Death just didn't matter to them and my father had to follow his orders without question. They'll send you to the worst battle zones in the Outer Rim without caring about your dreams.
Suddenly, an ear-deafening honk pulls her out of her thoughts and Eva stops in her tracks in an instant and steps back. A speeder truck was driving over the intersection and almost hit her. Eva was so far down in her thoughts that she didn't notice it. Stepping back, her eyes land on the angry face of a senile driver sitting behind the wheel. He swings his door open as his truck stops in front of her.
''Watch out of your marbles, damn fierfek!'' he warns with a frail voice. ''You almost lied below it!''
Eva blushes with embarrassment and tilts her head down with a sigh. She can feel the vibrations of the engine through the pavement, and if the driver didn't honk at her, she would've been horribly injured.
''I'm sorry, sir,'' Eva apologises, looking up. ''I'll watch out next time.''
''You damn will!'' he nearly shouts.
And with a slam of his door, he drives off and disappears out of view. With her heart having gone up to a thousand beats per minute, Eva walks on and crosses the street. The story that distracted her got stuck with her for all the wrong reasons. A story of a war that happened 2 decades ago, fought out by 2 different factions - it just doesn't make sense. The Clone Wars is in no way the same as the Galactic Civil War, and Eva is convinced Lu is wrong.
She can't just apply a 20-year-old war to a current civil war. Is she stupid?
''Hey, Eva!''
She suddenly turns around and sees her best friend catching up with her. Her brown, curly hair shimmers in the sunlight as her brown eyes are drawn to her. It's Oliva, her best friend for years, and never does she leave her curly hair unattended. It's a feature she inherited from her mother, Lu, who so happened to be Eva's teacher for Imperial Literature as well.
''Hi, Oliva,'' Eva greets, a thin smile forming on her face.
''You're out late,'' says Oliva, her backpack wobbling on her back. ''Did my mom give you detention again?''
Eva sighs. ''Kinda, I'm not sure what it was. Hold on. 'Again'? When was the last time I had detention then?''
Oliva chuckles. ''Like, last week?''
That time, Eva smashed a metal bottle into a boy's head because of the anti-Empire slogans he quietly whispered behind people's backs from time to time. She remembers the metallic thud the bottle made as clear as day. The detention she had at the end of the day was just a formality. The school director was required to punish her, but when everyone looked away, he actually praised her, giving her soft words of compliments. Eva enforced the New Order when teachers couldn't, and the director was proud to have such a student on his girl who got successfully hammered in the New Order.
Eva remembers it and a thin smile forms on her face as she looks away.
''Right,'' she responds. ''That time.''
''The same guy got into trouble again,'' Oliva replies.
''Rolland?''
Oliva nods. ''I heard he was in a discussion with Steyner and Torrak about the war during the lunch break, and he got a punch in the guts. They had beaten him up pretty well.''
Eva nods as a speeder shrieks past her. It briefly attracts her attention as she tracks it with her eyes before it passes her,
''Well, Rolland deserved it,'' says Eva. ''He's a Rebel sympathiser anyway.''
Oliva chuckles. ''Always resorting to violence. That's the Eva I know.''
Eva starts chuckling too. She feels it's right to enforce the New Order through violence when it's necessary. As long as it keeps the Galactic Empire safe from Rebel scum, Eva is convinced it's the right thing to do, punishing sympathisers for their traitorous acts. Eva feels convinced the boy who got beaten up today deserved it.
Oliva nods as she looks away, agreeing with Eva. ''He deserved it though. I mean, if the Empire is truly as evil as some people say, then how are we still in power? In the last 20 years, the galaxy never had war or instability.''
''I know what you mean,'' Eva responds. ''It wouldn't have stood for long.''
Oliva nods. ''Enough of the political talk, doesn't brighten the day much, does it?''
Eva chuckles. ''Yeah, enough of it. Today's Market Day, right?''
''Yeah,'' Oliva nods. ''Got a market stall at Steel Crane Plaza, wanna come by?''
Eva smiles. ''Yeah, sure!''
She doesn't need to follow Oliva through the streets for long in order to see it. From the streets afar, Eva can see the old steel crane at the market plaza towering over the nearby apartment blocks. 300 years ago, it lifted the building materials to the top of the early housing. The rough wind whistled through the truss beams and withstood far more violent winds in the 300 years it stood. 3 centuries later, all of the old housing has been demolished to the ground and replaced with modern highrises with some towering over the steel crane itself. It has become a monument, reminding the people who come across it of the first decades of Vaulent 6's history. The Exodus Mining Corporation that built their houses here had no idea their settlement would grow into a thriving megalopolis with millions of people, permanently inhabiting the moon for centuries to come.
As Eva follows Oliva past the first market stalls, she sees most of the vendors are still setting up their stalls. Hundreds of them stand on the plaza, around and below the Steel Crane, spread over the plaza in a zigzag pattern. Glancing around, Eva sees the vendors that have already finished setting up their stalls offering locally-made products for sale. Vegetables, fruit, hand-made baskets, shiny rocks from the mountains - it's a place where no multigalactic corporation rules the market. Vendors are free to set their own prices without taxes incorporated.
As Eva walks through the alley, lined by market stalls, they stumble upon a platoon of Stormtroopers walking towards them. They hold E-11s as they patrol, and usually, they patrol in squads of 6, but Eva notices they're with double the amount. They're with 12, an unusual amount for urban patrolling duties. Oliva sees them too as the Stormtroopers glance a bit around, keeping their eye out for whatever could be lurking in the shadows.
''That's many Stormtroopers,'' Oliva points out.
''Yeah,'' Eva replies. ''They're patrolling with more than usual.''
As they come closer, Eva's eyes are drawn to their shiny armour. The sun reflecting off of their white armour nearly blinds her. The Stormtrooper armour is far too inviting. Out of admiration, Eva lifts her hand and salutes them, but the Stormtroopers don't salute back. The Stormtroopers she stumbled upon in the morning did it, but these seemed to be too distracted with their duty. As she walks past them, she turns her head and tracks them with her eyes. They are too busy looking around, and she starts wondering what they're looking for. A Rebel spy perhaps?
Eva shakes off her thoughts and turns her head around. She feels no need to be the intelligence officer and dissect what they're looking for.
''What are you selling today?'' she asks.
Oliva glances over her shoulder. ''Corn, straight from the farm. Dad harvested them yesterday.''
It makes her remember that Oliva's parents aren't together anymore. They're divorced with Lu living in the busy Capital and her former husband living in the calm fields. Half of the week, Oliva spends her time with her mother and the other half with her father. Oliva's home situation makes Eva feel grateful that she has parents who, despite judging her military dreams, don't judge each other with too much heat to the point of a divorce. Luckily, they love each other, and Eva feels grateful that they do.
They arrive at Oliva's stall further down the market alley. It's a metal, collapsible table below a roof that's made of an old cloth stretched in a square frame with 4 support beams on the corners. It protects them and the product well enough from the rain that sometimes pours down from the clouds. Behind the stall stands a speeder truck with a big, open cargo area at the back, with enough room for 12 crates, stacked in a 6x2 formation. At the front is the cabin with enough space for a driver and a passenger. Eva notices an orange droid is moving the crates from the truck into the market stall.
''Hey Eva, you remember CK-3?'' Oliva asks, walking around the stall towards the droid.
Eva follows her towards it. ''Isn't it your father's cargo droid?''
''That's right,'' Oliva smiles, giving a pat on the droid's metal shoulder. ''If only I had a quiz price for you.''
Eva smiles a little. ''If you could give me some corn for free, that would be astral.''
Oliva chuckles. ''Let's rule the galaxy with order and free corn at every right answer.''
Eva chuckles too. A discount or free products attract even the most cold-blooded people the galaxy knows, and Eva can't let such a chance slip by. She knows her mother would love it.
''If you want free corn, help me set it up,'' Oliva smiles.
''Yeah, of course.''
Together, Eva, Oliva and her droid carry the crates one by one from the truck to the stall. Holding one in her hand, her eyes are drawn to the fresh corn that lie in it, and they look tasty and shiny. She can't wait for her mother to prepare it tonight at dinner.
As they unload everything and finish the preparations, Steel Crane Plaza slowly fills with visitors, looking for prices cheaper than those in the supermarkets. As the visitors pass by, Eva stands in the back, looking at how Oliva sells her corn to her buyers, and it all seems too easy. A simple glance at the corn, a question about the price, and they buy it. It happens almost all the time with some exceptions. You touch it, you buy it. As Oliva holds the Creds in her hands and puts it in a metal box, she glances over her shoulder at Eva.
''Simple as that,'' she smiles.
''Too simple it seems,'' Eva replies, holding her arms crossed over each other.
''Wanna try it for yourself?''
''Me? A cold-blooded enforcer of the New Order?'' she laughs. ''Fine, I'll do it for the free corn you'll give me.''
She steps forward towards the table with the corn orderly stacked in the crates, and Oliva moves a bit towards her.
''So, you touch it, you buy it, okay?'' Oliva explains.
''Yeah.''
''The price the visitor has to pay is the standard price of one corn multiplied by the amount of corn he demands.''
''Price of one times the total amount of demand?''
''Yeah, that. The standard price is 2.50 Creds.''
''Okay, got it. What about aliens?''
''The 'Alien Price' is 3.50.''
Xenophobia in the most casual moment as if it's an everyday thing. It appears to be more common than rain these days in the world of the Empire.
''Right. I think I can do it,'' says Eva. ''Watch me, I'll be selling the entire stall within a minute.''
Oliva chuckles. ''Yeah, sure.''
Eva notices a woman in her fifties passing by. For her, only the regular price applies, and she sells her two corn with success, bringing 5 Credits to the box. Quickly after Eva hands the woman the two corn in a plastic bag, she notices another visitor stopping by. The man is a Gotal, a humanoid race covered in mammal-like fur. He has two horns on his head going up and he has furry hands. His weathered factory clothing makes Eva assume his job is heavy labour in factories no Imperial wants to work at, and his alien features make Eva unable to estimate his age. Remembering her class at Imperial Ideology this morning at school, she knows the Gotal is a third-class citizen, a humanoid without many similarities to the human race except for the basic bone structure, although the horns on his head make Eva doubt that. Those horns must be heavy on his skull, and she wonders whether his species shouldn't be ranked as bottom-class. Whatever, the Alien Price applies anyway.
The Gotal approaches the corn and glances at them.
''When were these harvested?'' he asks, nearly cackling with his frail voice.
''Yesterday,'' Eva responds.
The horned furball nods. He reaches out to the corn lying in the crate, wanting to inspect it, but Eva is quick to point out the rule that applies here as the Gotal touches the corn.
''You touch it, you buy it, sir,'' Eva points out.
The alien shifts his serpent-like eyes to her, and Eva can see a hint of frustration in him as he lets out a sigh, but he seems to understand it, accepting the rule with a nod.
''I needed three anyway,'' he says. ''How much will it cost?''
Price of one multiplied by the amount he demands. Alien Price is active.
So, 3.50 Credits multiplied by 3.
''3 is going to cost 10 and a half, sir,'' she answers.
''10 and a half?'' the Gotal asks, nearly shouting with shock. ''Well, get lost with this scam!''
The Gotal walks away and he angrily curses with waving hands, and as the alien disappears into the crowd, Eva shifts her head to Oliva. She's in shock too as they make eye contact, and they both erupt in laughter. Eva didn't expect someone to get this angry about a price. Admittedly, it's expensive for him, but she's convinced the Empire carries most of the alien races on its back. The Empire has to keep a galaxy stable with alien economies far too weak to stand upright - besides, human superiority.
As their chuckles subside, they both hear something somewhere in the crowded market alley. It's commotion, the shrieks of a woman and a shout of a man. Eva wonders what's going on and she bends over the table to look, but all she sees is a wall of people. She can't see anything. Then, a single person emerges from the crowd and bumps a woman aside. He runs through the alley and dashes past the stalls with big leaps and his shoes pounding on the pavement.
Another man, a vendor, breaks from the crowd with clenched teeth.
''Hey, stop him!'' he shouts.
It's a thief, a robber, and as her eyes land on the perpetrator, Eva notices it's an alien too, a green-skinned, reptilian-like Rodian. He has big, pupil-less eyes that are as big as a football the boys kick at the schoolyard. His mouth is in the shape of a snout like an ant-eater and in his green, five-fingered hands, the Rodian holds a box tightly against his chest. As he dashes past the stalls, no one seems to dare interfere, and as the Rodian runs closer, Eva feels the urge to step in. She feels like it's her duty and her blood starts to boil for a fight. That Rodian stole the possession of an Imperial citizen. He should be forced to the ground to face his trials.
Then, Eva's eyes are instantly drawn to a bright flash between the market stalls close to her, and her eyes land on a shiny Stormtrooper running into the market alley. He comes into his path and smashes the Rodian in the face with the butt of his E-11. The alien trips over his own feet and falls to the ground, smashing his head against the edge of their stall's table. Eva backs away with shock as the Rodian smashes into it. The table shakes and some crates of corn fall off and spread over the pavement. The Stormtrooper got him. He runs towards the alien lying on the ground as Eva walks around the table with her pupils growing larger with intrigue, watching a Stormtrooper in action. She inscribes everything in her mind to remember what he's doing. The earlier she learns, the better she'll perform at the Academy. She watches as the trooper drops himself to the ground and smashes the steel handcuffs on the thief's wrists.
As the Rodian tries to get out of his chains, Eva notices a wound on his green head leaking out green blood and dripping down from his alien snout. Seeing his disgusting alien blood, Eva clenches her teeth in disgust and the visitors around her look at the Rodian the same way as her. As Oliva joins her, she lets out a gasp of shock and disgust as the Rodian's green blood drips on the ground.
The alien curses at the Stormtrooper in weird words Eva can't comprehend. It's easier for her to understand the vague mumbles of a 6-month-old infant than this third-class alien.
The Stormtrooper draws his blaster and stands up from the ground.
''Alright alien, now get up,'' he commands.
Suddenly, Eva's eyes are drawn to the trooper. Hold up.
She recognises the trooper's strict, male voice, and as other Stormtroopers emerge from the crowd with lowered blasters, her eyes land on a blue, double-ring insignia on the trooper's chest. He has an orange pauldron on his shoulder, reflecting the sunlight as he pulls the wounded Rodian up with force, holding his green arms. The alien continues to curse at him in his native language and the Stormtrooper pulls out his stun baton from his belt. He stabs the Rodian in his chin, giving him a single electric shock Eva can nearly feel in her lungs. Shocking him, the Rodian's voice becomes frail with pain and he starts calming down, choking in his tirade of curse words.
''We got another alien to throw into the slammer,'' says the Stormtrooper, shifting his head to his colleagues.
Eva thought the voice sounded familiar, but now, she knows where she recognised it from.
''A clean sweep, I see,'' says another Stormtrooper. ''So it's not going to be a boring day after all.''
''Get him to the transporter,'' orders the Commander and hands the alien to his colleagues. ''We'll bring him to Capital Police, they'll take care of the rest.''
As his colleagues bring the Rodian thief away, the Stormtrooper Commander turns to Eva, and a smile forms on her face as she knows who is behind the helmet.
''Kyraan, didn't expect you to be here,'' says Eva, smiling from ear to ear.
The Stormtrooper grasps his helmet and takes it off, revealing a man in his thirties with a stubble beard, brown eyes, and black, short hair. It's the same kind of person that can be found at every high-esteemed corporation as an IT worker, businessman, or CEO. To Eva, Kyraan is just another person she knows as an old teacher from school.
''Good day, Eva,'' he greets, a smile forming on his face too.
Oliva shifts her head to her. ''You know him?''
''Yeah,'' Eva replies, shifting her head to her. ''He was my Basic teacher.''
''That's right,'' Kyraan responds, his armour shining in the sunlight. ''I've known Eva since she was very small and I taught her how to spell. Hey, let me help you get the corn back on the table.''
Kyraan lowers himself to the ground and picks up the corn from the pavement. Eva and Oliva get working too, and as Eva gets the corn back on the table, she remembers when Kyraan taught her at school until he was conscripted. That time, when Eva was 9, Eline 7, and Kyraan in his late twenties, the mass mobilisation happened. It was an order directly from the mythical Imperial High Command, a force far outside the public eye. They are somewhere at Coruscant in the middle of the Imperial Center, sending out their orders to the entire Imperial military. Everything falls under their command, and after they initiated the military's mass mobilisation, they forced Vaulent 6 to push out conscription calls. Everyone between the ages of 13 and 20 had to attend some form of military training and older people were given the option to enlist themselves. Before that, Vaulent 6 only knew enlistment, letting everyone above the age of 18 voluntarily join the military, but since the little conflict between a group of rebellious terrorists grew into a full-scale galactic war, it all became different. The war escalated, and Kyraan went from teaching the Galactic Basic Standard to holding a blaster in his hand while the mortar shells shrieked over him towards the enemies. Now, every teenager is forced to attend the Academy unless a major health complication is involved. Eva is completely healthy, and soon, she sees herself standing in a straight line of fellow cadets, listening to the orders of their taskmasters.
Thinking about all of it, the sudden switch from voluntary enlistment to forced conscription, Eva's mind drifts away to Lu's story. It's not what you believe it is. Death just didn't matter to them and my father had to follow his orders without question. They'll send you to the worst battle zones in the Outer Rim without caring about your dreams.
Putting the last corn on the table and aligning the crate perfectly with the others, the story of Lu remains in her thoughts, trying to lure her back. Eva knows she's right, but being a pesky thought to shake off, she can try to trick her mind into ensuring she's really right, confirming what she already knows. What's better than having it confirmed by a real Stormtrooper?
Kyraan puts the helmet back on his head as Eva turns to him.
''Kyraan, can I talk with you for a second?'' she asks.
''Anytime, Eva,'' he replies, starting to walk away. ''Be quick, I have to join my squad in the Box.''
The Box? Another one of your short nicknames for military equipment?
Military personnel like to give their self-made nicknames to vehicles that would otherwise be too long to pronounce in a single gasp. TIE Fighters were commonly referred to as just TIEs or Eyeballs. All-Terrain Defense Pods are nicknamed Dipper for some reason, and speeder bikes in general are named Arrowheads because of their distinctive, aerodynamic shape. The Box is a nickname Eva can't link to any of the vehicles the Imperial military possesses. She shoves it aside. It's a trivial thought that is the least of her concerns.
''So, my Imperial Literature teacher told me a story,'' Eva starts. ''One I doubt is true.''
''Is it Lu?'' Kyraan asks.
''Yeah. You know her?''
''Yeah. Lu has always been a bit anti-military. She's not exactly against the Empire, but she's just worried about the conscription program, concerned about teenager's mental health when they join it.''
''Yeah.''
''So, she told you a story. Tell me about it.''
Eva scrambles her memories of the conversation together.
''So, the story is a bit large, but what matters is that she told me that her father was used as cannon fodder by his superiors. Lu told me he was an expendable soldier, and that's why I shouldn't join the Stormtrooper Corps or really anything else. She thinks the military doesn't care about the soldiers.''
Kyraan nods. ''I've been hearing those details for quite a while, usually dressed with different stories, and the cannon fodder argument is mostly blown-up stuff. I've been sent out to Ryloth for a three-month campaign, and I've fought in some heated battles where we lost quite a lot of men, but we mattered to our superiors. We were always given the tools we needed, and we've never been handled as just resources.''
''Mmmmaybe she means the Army?''
''I don't think so. Not even the infantry forces of the Army are handled like that. Though they are usually used in the more-, let's say-, muddy campaigns, they're still treated with respect.''
''I thought that too. Why is she telling it though? It's full of Bantha fodder.''
''Well, when people are worried or scared about something, they take any argument that supports their view, no matter how unbelievably flawed some of them are. The cannon fodder and the expendable soldier arguments are flawed too. It's just the high casualty number and the high risks some campaigns have and only that makes them think they're right.''
''Which campaign could Lu be referring to, then?''
''The Bloody Three comes to my mind.''
''The-, Bloody Three?''
''The Three Kashyyyk Campaigns. Bloody as hell and difficult as anything. I didn't serve at the time, but I heard from my buddies in the Corps that the Army lost thousands of soldiers there. Very dangerous and bloody there. The Ryloth campaign I was part of had a pretty low casualty rate. We lost around 60 people there and we were there with 25.000, so, not so much.''
''Right.''
So, Lu's concern is practically unnecessary, overblown worry. Eva thought so too but the confirmation helped her.
They walk out of the market alley and approach the parking spots at the end of Steel Crane Plaza. In one of the parking spots stands an Imperial Troop Transporter or ITT. She can tell it's a K79-S80 model, straight from the factories of Ubrikkian Industries at Corellia. The ITT stands on the parking spot with its engine already rumbling as Kyraan's squad members step in with the Rodian robber in handcuffs. That's the Box Kyraan meant, and it looks exactly like one. Box-like with sleek, angular edges. If they tried to make it fly, it would fall like a brick.
Before she leaves her, Kyraan stops in her tracks and turns to her.
''Still as steadfastly loyal?'' he asks.
Eva looks up at him with a smile forming on her face. ''That's the one thing that never changes. I'll live and I'll die for the Empire.''
Kyraan lets out a chuckle. ''That's the part I like about you the most, Eva - never letting go of what we live for.''
He puts his hand on Eva's shoulder.
''The Empire has already brought peace and prosperity to worlds such as Ryloth and it's thanks to Imperial worlds like ours that allow it to happen. The galaxy has never been a safer place.''
''Thanks to us,'' Eva repeats. ''I knew it was us, the Empire.''
''Eva, thanks to the Empire, the galaxy can thrive again after centuries of corruption and incompetence within the old Republic,'' Kyraan responds. ''We can do better than them. You know what we say.''
Eva nods with a smile. ''Glory to the Empire.''
''Glory to the Empire,'' Kyraan repeats. ''I'll get going now. I have an alien to throw in the slammer.''
''Will he have some Rebel scum to befriend there?'' she asks with a mischievous smile.
''Hah, if Capital Police suspects him of more crimes, he can find them at Wobani or Belsavis,'' Kyraan chuckles. ''I'll be going now, I'll see you later.''
He starts walking away, and before he can glance away from her, Eva raises her hand and salutes him. Kyraan salutes too and it makes Eva's heart pound with excitement for her future. She lowers her hand and he walks away to the ITT standing in the parking spot with its engine rumbling. He steps aboard and the transporter drives away, disappearing between the city blocks of the Capital.
As Eva turns around to get back to Oliva, she thinks back to the conversation she had with Kyraan. It's clear that Lu is blinded by bias, a thought she wants to believe in so much that all she sees are the arguments that favour her point. However, Eva feels convinced Lu isn't that stupid. She wouldn't have had a job if that was her way of thinking, but it's clear that she did it on purpose, and Eva now understands why. Hearing from Kyraan the sheer losses the Imperial Army sustained at Kashyyyk, Lu's point still holds some truth. The Bloody Three were apparently so bloody that they received an almost mythical status. The losses sustained there are apparently so significant that it sticks to certain people like Lu. Her concern is understandable, and Aside from that, wars are wars. They're dangerous nonetheless, and the training programs at the Academy are not going to be easy. When she finally gets there and stands on the battlefield in the swamps or the streets, it still isn't going to be easy, but Eva wants to face it. Protecting the Empire and fighting for its people is all that matters to her and her future, and that of everyone around her. For the rest of the day, the thoughts remain with her.