IE II: CONCERNS AND CONCERNS

VALOR STATION, CARIDA

"The stars that once shaped the canvas of the cosmos now rule the lines of the battlefront."

While the war effort drives in full motion, a space station orbiting the planet of Carida houses the yearly Imperial Strategy Conference. High-ranked Imperials from all across the galaxy come here for the 3-weeks event. Admirals, generals, colonels, Moffs; the Navy, the Army, Sector Command, ISB, Intelligence, COMPNOR, Ubiqtorate… All the key personnel and branches of the Imperial military are attending. No other time of the year of the Empire is more important than this single conference.

While the hushed voice of a woman echoes through the monotone corridors of Valor Station, Kirbley makes his way to the center of the Strategy Conference. He checks his collar and looks down at the white suit he got tailored for this special event, checking for any rimples. It's an important event that, if he had his normal clothing on as any other psychologist would, would become a walk of shame with the eyes of posh Imperials looking down at his civilian-looking outfit. But he sees his suit is decent. There's no need to be worried and Kirbley walks on and steps into the massive conference chamber. It's where the main talks of the event take place. Endless rows of seats stand before him, cascading downwards towards the stage where a large hologram plays out. It's like a wall showing the colourful shades of a spacecraft soaring through space. He glances over the heads of all the Imperials sitting in the seats until he notices Carter and walks towards him.

"Are they still not done?" Kirbley whispers, shuffling past the feet of others.

Carter shifts his head to him.

"It's Sienar," he whispers nonchalantly. "They're always the shinies out here."

Kirbley sits down. "I thought they would wrap things up already after a leak."

Sienar Fleet, TIEs, and the beauty of the cosmos are three undetachable things. Name TIE Interceptor and you'll get the elegant promo-video of the craft in the cosmos; a slow burn that meanders around until it gets to the point, which was usually drawing in investors for financial support. This craft the hologram is showing is not a TIE Interceptor though. It's an entirely new craft and it gets Kirbley a little bit intrigued. It's probably not because of the spacecraft itself. It might very well be the hushed voice of a woman that draws his attention. He's been single for most of his life so there's that. But either way, he's listening.

"We combine the stars with precision engineering, done by the best hands in our assembly halls. Sienar Fleet Systems proudly presents, the new TIE Interdictor," the soft woman voice announces. "The Navy's new generation of heavy bombers."

The same spacecraft suddenly rolls onto the stage, through the hologram. It has a central TIE cockpit that's flanked by two circular ordnance pods on both sides for a total of four. The more proton bombs it can drop, the fewer Rebel freedom fighters that will survive. It's a brutal war machine that's presented in a whirlwind of cosmic beauty and elegance. All the Imperial officers around him start clapping and a thunderous applause fills the conference room. Kirbley however, feels reluctant to clap his hands. Sienar Fleet's promo video of their new weapon of mass destruction lands wrong in his stomach. Better technology doesn't equal a quicker end of Rebel scum, and combining the beauty of the cosmos with a bringer of death makes him feel uncomfortable.

The reason he's here is not to applaud all the new advancements. He has something different in mind. The announcement of new TIE Fighter variants and other technology feels like a show to him. It's just to encourage the investors of the Imperial war industry. Kirbley is here to ensure the soldiers won't stay behind. The troopers are mostly overlooked while they matter the most, and his Night Force project ensures the soldiers of the Empire are looked after.

At the end of the conference, Kirbley walks into a large hallway. Large chandeliers made from the most shiny crystals hang down from the high ceiling. It feels like the palace of a royalty as Kirbley wanders through the officers. The hallway is filled with the mumbling of Imperials as they talk with each other about military development. Contractors all around them humbly, yet intrusively chase new contracts with anyone interested in their services. Luckily, they're not searching for him and Kirbley feels grateful to be left alone by them.

Walking around, Kirbley glances over the officers, noticing admirals, generals, and other high-ranked Imperials walking around and chatting with each other. Eye-blinding droids walk around with drinks on trays they hold, offering Imperials refreshing hooch to wind down from the heavy talks.

Seeing all the high-ranking officers making themselves comfortable aboard this space station makes Kirbley feel a bit uneasy, as if they all look down on him. Even when he's the man in charge of the prestigious Night Force project, he still holds no rank. He is still a civilian psychologist who got entangled in the Imperial war machine by his father and got too far to go back. He might be the man in the lead, but not the man with any military prestige. Kirbley feels like he's the odd one out here and not knowing what all of the Imperials around him think of him makes his heart pound in his chest. Perhaps they might even dislike him. A civilian scientist rushing in to fix the problems the 'stupid' have created; it might land wrong.

Kirbley is pulled out of his thoughts as Carter catches up with him.

"I'm back," says Carter with a sigh of unease. "Dank Ferrik, those KDY contractors are a pain in the ass to evade."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Kirbley responds shifting his head to him. I didn't expect anything else from contractors.

His thoughts quickly drift away as he walks amidst the crowd of Imperial officers. They're all higher than he is, and the discomfort continues to rise in his chest, making his heart pound and his breath shudder a little.

Carter glances at him and notices the discomfort brewing within him.

"You're feeling uneasy again?" he asks.

Kirbley nods. "Yeah. I can feel them looking down on me, it's-, gnawing on my nerves."

A shiny protocol droid passes them with a tray of strong alcohol and Carter grasps a glass and hands it to Kirbley.

"Here, a glass of hooch," he says. "That will cool the nerves. We have a meeting with High Command right now and you might have to account for the performance of Night Force."

So he's definitely going to need it. Kirbley takes the glass from Carter's hand and drinks all of it up with a single sip. He feels it burn below his eyes until it slowly fades away and starts playing out its effect. The feeling of being looked down upon diminishes a little until he can neglect it.

"Alright. Let's see what they have to say," says Kirbley with a more calming town and he puts the glass on the empty tray of another droid.

"Good," Carter responds. "I'll do the formalities."

"Got it, I'll stay back."

With a quick pace, Kirbley follows Carter around the military personnel until he sees a group of three highly-ranked officers standing in the middle of the hallway. He can sense their authority like radiation and he can feel it playing with his nerves. As they approach them, the officers shift their glance.

"Admiral Carter," says one officer in a grey, tight suit.

Carter shakes his hand. "Good evening, Admiral."

Kirbley shakes his hand too.

"Doctor Kirbley," he introduces himself and does the same with the other High Command officers. Admiral Piett, Vice Admiral Rae Sloane, and some colonel of Imperial Intelligence.

And after that, Kirbley stands back and lets Carter do the formalities. However, his thoughts drift away. Admiral Piett and Vice Admiral Rae Sloane are pretty big names with Piett being the second-in-command officer of Lord Vader, but the one he expected to see, General Veers, isn't here, and Kirbley wonders why. He's the one he closed the deal with the Army with that started the Night Force project and he thought he'd needed to see him. Apparently, it's hardly necessary, and instead of accounting for Night Force, Kirbley stands behind the sidelines and listens. Rebel Alliance is growing, whatever is happening on Endor, Death Squadron, this, that, yadda - everything is escaping his mind as quickly as his ears pick them up.

Suddenly, a man on a hoverchair joins the group. A protocol droid pushes him and as Kirbley's eyes land on his face, his heart skips a beat. It's General Veers, the man responsible for the whole Imperial Army. The last time he had seen him he could walk, and now, he's pushed in a hoverchair, seemingly unable to use his legs. His sudden handicap makes a cold shiver run down Kirbley's spine.

"Greetings, Doctor Kirbley," greets Veers, and he shakes his hand. "Apologies for being late. Can I speak with you in private?"

"Yes-, yes, of course, General," stammers Kirbley a little.

General Veers and Kirbley leave the group. His hoverchair hums a little as the droid pushes it gently forward and Kirbley follows him. His eyes keep drifting to his legs, and they're covered in metal wrap. Did he lose his legs? The question of what happened gnaws on him and he feels his heart racing in his chest as he opens his mouth.

"I am sorry for asking, but what happened that made you unable to walk?" Kirbley asks.

The General lets out a sigh. "I broke my legs during an assault on a Rebel base on Hoth. A snowspeeder crashed into the walker I was commanding and left me for dead on that damned snow planet."

Left for dead on a snow planet? Yikes.

Crawling out of the wreckage through the snow with no legs to move makes a cold shiver run down his spine, and imagining it, Kirbley's lungs shudder with distress.

"That is horrible," Kirbley remarks. "You were lucky to have survived that on a snow planet."

General Veers shakes his head. "I don't believe in luck. I believe in skill and I had some very good medics who patched me up."

He rubs his neck with unease. If it wasn't for his skilled men, Kirbley would've had to talk with a whole different person replacing the General, and he feels grateful that Veers survived the horrible injuries he sustained. And on a snow planet even? That raises Kirbley's eyebrows even more. Such horrible injuries on a snow planet mostly equal immediate death.

"Doctor Kirbley, I have taken you privately to discuss the future of the Night Force project," says Veers.

Kirbley's heart speeds up with nervousness. He can feel the heavy discussion that's coming.

"First of all, I congratulate the success of the project," starts Veers. "I have to say that the first results are very promising. What do you think about it yourself?"

"Me?" Kirbley asks, bewildered. He did not expect the conversation to start with a positive view of the project. "It's promising indeed. The cadets we are training are far more capable than the regular Academy cadets. We've been observing them for quite a while during anti-Rebel intelligence operations and they are better at adapting to twists in events and the technology they need. But, I am reluctant. Though this project is promising, it is fragile and the path our cadets take is sometimes completely random. Even though they fight Rebels, they are pretty much rebels themselves."

One girl, in particular, proved that, and Kirbley can remember how much the situation made his nerves burn with nervousness when Eva Young went AWOL and took a boy hostage for information just to hunt down her biggest enemy.

"I have to be careful about what we do with Night Force," adds Kirbley. "Young teenagers such as our cadets are easy to change, for the better or the worse."

General Veers nods. "Being careful does not apply only to you and the Night Force project. I am not sure if you have been following the war effort, but our grip on the Rebel Alliance is growing thinner each day now that more systems are joining their cause. What was first a rebel cell on a few worlds has now grown to a presence of hope on a galactic scale. They are more flexible and experienced than ever. We are no longer fighting against freedom fighters. We are fighting against generals and admirals with as much experience as us, and our forces cannot take them all."

"Just like my father told me," Kirbley responds. "The war has always been spiralling out of control since the explosion of the Death Star."

"It's a dark nightmare we have to light our way back from," says Veers, letting out a deep sigh. "We have to get out of it, and yesterday, I was informed that Mon Cala is resisting our authority. They are very skilled warriors and we fear they might join the cause of the Rebel Alliance. The war is not just escalating, it's escalating towards the big battlefields where our infantry forces are no longer sufficient. We need skilled troopers on the battlefields and I am hoping Night Force will deliver them."

"Of course it will, General. The purpose of Night Force is to develop more skilled cadets that become better soldiers in their adulthood."

"From our analysis, the cadets the Night Force project is developing are more directed towards security and anti-intelligence operations, the fight against spies and Rebel operations that undermine our society. I need better troopers on the battlefields. Take Hoth. Our main objective was to capture a single Rebel and our secondary was to capture all of his Rebel colleagues. We left Hoth with a Rebel Alliance that is still standing as of today and it has even grown larger. None of our objectives were reached, and though we assume it to be a serious setback for them, our soldiers failed to deal the real blow."

Kirbley lets out a sigh. "Night Force needs to train its soldiers for the harsh battlefields instead of the streets."

"That is my vision indeed. Night Force needs to up its game. The desolate battlefields are where the war is decided, not the cities."

Kirbley shakes his head. "General, with all due respect, I'm not sure if I can do that. Training them to fight on the battlefield is pretty much an experiment itself."

His hoverchair stops and Veers looks at Kirbley with cold, stern eyes. "Imperial High Command has made that decision, Doctor. If you are incapable of doing what we expect from you, we are obliged to find someone else who is more fitting. And I know that the Imperial Weapons Division is not the organisation you want leading the Night Force project."

Dank Ferrik. You've got to be kidding me.

Kirbley looks away into oblivion. Night Force is not just any experiment. It's an experiment with children. It's fragile and needs to be taken with care, something the Imperial Weapons Division wouldn't do. Even if their scientists know everything about kyber crystals, tractor beams, and celestial powers, they have no idea how to treat children with care. All they care about is firepower and advancement at the cost of mental well-being. And now that he's threatened to be replaced by one of their directors, Kirbley feels forced to take General Veers' orders and comply. And the General is right in a way. Kirbley started Night Force because Stormtroopers could no longer secure Naval sites against Rebel commandos. That goal gradually changed to anti-intelligence operations, and now it's an all-out war on the largest, most muddy battlefields.

The Night Force project needs to upgrade its training. If the war is ever to be won, Kirbley has to, and as General Veers is driven away by the protocol droid, he is left alone with fear running down his spine. Now that Night Force is taken in an abrupt direction towards the battlefield, the cadets will experience more weight to handle. They've handled already a lot thanks to the intensive training schedule of Night Force, but Kirbley doesn't know what surprises the path might hold.

Soon, Night Force will enter the next stage, and its cadets won't be spared from its intense side effects.


"Firewalls are a headache to get around."

Peyton looks up from her datapad and Eva nods.

"A firewall's primary function is to monitor every bit of data that's coming from an external source. It controls how much data is coming through and what kind of data," she explains. "A firewall has a set of criteria a package of data must meet to get through. Something that doesn't meet its standards is suspicious, and the firewall will keep it out of the system."

Sitting on the stiff mattress of Peyton's bed with her legs crossed, Eva listens closely to what she's explaining to her. After she came back, wounded from her daring mission, Peyton had a broken friendship to fix. She promised Eva she'd teach her the basics of slicing. And ever since, Eva's been showing up at her bed every few nights. However, Peyton's words turn quickly into disarray and Eva can't follow her anymore as it all becomes vague.

"Firewalls are supposed to be tight but-,"

"Okay, hold up," Eva interrupts.

Peyton stops and looks up at her.

"I can't follow you anymore," says Eva. "All I'm hearing is Gonk droid noise."

Peyton smiles a little, recognising her enthusiasm for the technology overtook her a little. She nods and gazes into oblivion, trying to think of a way to explain it differently.

"The Star Destroyers guarding Coruscant kind of do the same thing," she starts. "They let starships in when they see they're harmless, and block people when they don't fulfil the security criteria. Those starships might be smugglers or Rebels trying to get into the system. Firewalls do the same, they're the gatekeepers of a system that let harmless people in and protect it from people like-, well, me."

Peyton smiles a little and Eva too.

"How easy will it be?" Eva asks.

Peyton shrugs. "Depends on the type of system you're trying to get into. The lock of a blast door is pretty easy to overcome, but anything above that gets trickier to fool."

Eva nods. "I'll try."

And with that, Peyton taps on her datapad and the blast door of the barrack slides shut and makes a metallic click, and she hands the datapad to Eva. Codes of Binary appear on her screen and she starts breaking the lock of the blast door. She spits through code and finds some lines that draw her attention. They are linked to the security mechanism of the blast door. Eva starts digging, but for a moment, something else gets to her mind.

The soft words of Tal that calmed her, the shockwaves that shook the building while she was chained, Eline's hand she held when she could no longer walk, the blaster she held Lu at gunsight with - 2 months have passed ever since. She can remember everything, clear as day and since then, her mind has changed. The portrayal of Rebels as demonic, heartless monsters has been wrong all the time. She thought they were. She thought Rebels were monsters, but Eva learned it's not always the case. Tal and Lu were people who proved her otherwise, and it made her learn that not everything she's told is to be believed. As the digits on the screen flash by, a question arises. She still holds the Empire dearly. It's the only world she's ever known, but the Empire she loved isn't as perfect as she once thought it was. It's flawed and exactly as her father once told her; they lie whenever it's necessary.

Military ads? Glorified. Mission details? Too optimistic. Events? Covered up. Though Eva still loves the Empire she serves, it's not what she was told it was. She glances at Peyton, looking at her screen.

"Peyton, why do you believe in the Empire?" she asks.

Peyton looks up with confusion in her eyes. "Sorry?"

"Why do you believe in the Empire?" Eva repeats.

Peyton shrugs "Why? Why the question?"

Eva shakes her head a little. "Just a thought."

Peyton sighs. "Well, I believe the New Order is good because it doesn't run after what's happening. Democracy and diplomacy slow everything down. Sometimes we need immediate action, and we can't do that when 2000 senators negotiate with their own views of things. How are we supposed to solve problems with so many diplomats from systems that were free to do their own things? We can't. We can't rule like that. I think we have to take away the free will of systems so we can rule the galaxy from one location with one direction. 2000 senators grumbling about things they don't like takes an eternity to result in something. Without them, we can act so much quicker, and that's why I believe in it."

Eva nods. "And that's why you fight for it?"

Peyton nods.

"Would you understand why others disagree with us?"

Peyton shakes her head. "I'm not sure. Never met a Rebel in my life."

Now that she knows how Peyton thinks about what they fight for, Eva feels like she needs a break, a moment to reflect, so with an excuse of needing to take a leak, she bails out. Eva walks out of the barracks and through the empty corridors of the Academy and she finds space to reflect.

You're fighting because it works. It's not as slow as the Republic. That makes sense. I fight because it's the only kind of justice they deserve, but the people we're fighting, are they really that horrible? Not all of them are that bad. Am I the only one thinking this?

At the commbooth of the Academy at the far end of the building, Eva inserts her chaincode digits into the machine. The screen flickers and sees she has a missed call. It's the voicemail of someone with a chaincode registered on Coruscant according to the last four digits, and Eva plays out the message. In front of her, a hologram flickers on and the figure of a girl appears. The speakers crackle a little.

"Hey, Eva," she sighs.

It's Oliva and for a brief moment, her heart starts shining a little. Even if it's a small, blue hologram, the curly hair is still as recognisable as ever.

"It's been a while."

2 months, is it not? Time's quick.

"I'm here at my new home on Coruscant with my dad," Oliva's voice crackles. "We're lucky it's at a somewhat higher level. Down there it's just pure hell."

Eva nods. The lower levels of Coruscant have always been pure, concrete hell with combustion gasses coming from the upper levels poisoning the people living there. She knows from news channels on the HoloNet how hard it can be to live there. It's a pure hellscape down there, and Eva continues to listen.

"It's not that bad up here," Oliva continues. "The home's not big but it fits, we don't need much."

Suddenly, Eva hears the turmoil brewing behind Oliva's voice. It sounded hopeful at first but now it's quickly turning into disarray as Oliva lets out a shuddering sigh.

"But I miss you and mom so much," her voice trembles. "Dad says it's just because of the move, but I don't know. It feels like a void I can't shake off. I just miss the old times so much. Remember Steel Crane Plaza and the market?"

That was so fun to sell the corn with you.

Eva feels it coming and sheds a tear as she recalls the memory.

Oliva chuckles a little. "That was fun. But it feels so far away now that I'm here on Coruscant. Everything here is just concrete and concrete and metal and metal. There's nothing here that looks the same as Vaulent 6. But at least Coruscant doesn't remind me of the nightmare. I can't imagine getting back there, it's a place that haunts me."

With a shivering voice that's on the edge of breaking down into tears, Oliva signs off. "I miss you, Eva. I couldn't call you, so call me back when you can so we can catch up a little. Love you."

The voicemail ends and the hologram of Oliva vanishes, leaving Eva with an empty, aching spot in her heart. Oliva still doesn't know it, and ever since she left, Eva had to choke in her words. Only she knows what truly happened to Oliva's mother but she's forced by the ISB to keep it a secret. It feels agonising to keep the truth hidden from her best friend, but Eva has to. Good soldiers follow orders.

Even if Lu did so much wrong, she's still a mother that cared about her daughter. It proved to Eva that not all Rebels are heartless terrorists with the sole purpose of destroying her world. They're people like the ones she knows. They're exactly like the people she protects with the only difference being the side they serve. Rebel or not, Lu was a loving mother, and Eva feels like it's going directly against her beliefs and what she was taught. And no one in the whole Imperial military shares the same belief she has now. She's the only one who believes the Rebels aren't as demonic as the Empire wants her to believe they are. Not even her squad members think the same as her. She feels like the odd one out here and it starts gnawing on her.

Then, she hears something in the far distance. It sounds like a familiar voice but Eva can't place it. She looks away from the commbooth and gazes towards where it came from. She hears some giggles echoing through the corridor and intrigued, Eva walks towards the source. As she quietly walks towards where the soft giggles came from, she hears the familiar voice again, and this time she recognises it.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

It's Ashara. Her soft, Pantoran voice echoes through the corridor until it vanishes and Eva is left with questions. She tries to look for her, but as Eva ventures further through the empty corridors, she can't find her anywhere as if she vanished into thin air. Who was Ashara talking to? Where will she be? Eva wonders what that's all about.

That night as the Academy closes down and turns off its lights, Eva is lying in her bed. The mattress feels hard, yet comfortable enough and she's on the edge of dozing off. Then, she hears something. Her ears pick up a shuffling noise, followed by nearly silent thuds on the metal floor until it's all ended by the blast door opening and closing. Eva opens her eyes. Who was that?

She rolls around and her eyes dart around the barracks. Roslin sleeps. Ecklund sleeps. Peyton sleeps. Ashara… her bed is empty. The pillow is left behind and the bedsheet is hanging down, nearly falling onto the floor. She remembers what Ashara said in the empty corridors of the Academy, yeah, I'll be there.

Those words linger in her mind and now that Ashara is gone from her bed raises the questions again. Why is she gone? Why did she say she'll be there, wherever that might be? She could just be taking a leak. It can happen, but what did she mean in the corridor, and to whom did she say it? It could be a group assignment she has to do for her medical classes, but Eva doubts it. It can't be this late in the night.

Suddenly, one thought hits her. Ashara could be a spy, a Rebel. It's the only answer she can come up with. She's learned the hard way that even the most inconspicuous people can shove a dagger deep into her heart. Lu did. Ashara could. And now that that thought is starting to burn in her mind, Eva can't close her eyes anymore.

Quietly, Eva jumps out of her bed now that her heart is pounding nervously in her chest. She has to find her.

Stepping into the silence of the corridor, Eva looks in both directions. Ashara is nowhere. Dank Ferrik, where did she go?

Eva walks further, but the Academy is gigantic. There are so many storages, hallways, rooms and everything in between. She won't be able to find Ashara in this labyrinth of corridors. Eva lost her, and now that she suspects her friend and squad member of possible rebellion, she walks back to her barracks and is unable to rest.

Ashara, what are you up to?