[Last Of The Jedi] - 08(2)

Shaken, he made his way to his quarters. He had his own small room, just enough for a sleep couch and a small dresser.

They isolate you first, Keets had explained. Part of the breakdown of your personality. They don’t want you to have personality, kid.

Shelves flipped up and down for work spaces. Trever stowed his gear and bounced on the sleep couch. Not very comfortable. The small pillow was like a rock.

He had noticed a supply closet on the way in. Trever slipped out and went down the hall, alert for other students and that fake blaster. He pushed open the supply closet door.

Ah. Stacks of blankets and pillows. He quickly snatched a few pillows and went back to his room. He tossed them on his bed. Might as well be comfortable while he was here.

“Activate message unit.” The voice was insistent and came from a control panel near the door. A red light was blinking. Trever pressed his thumb onto a sensor panel to identify himself.

“Recruit Fortin, report to Lieutenant Maggis, Guardian Advisor, for orientation interview,” the voice said.

Fortin was the name on the false ID docs Dex Jettster had gotten for him. Dex and Keets were both members of the Erased, who had obliterated their former identities in order to hide from the Empire. Dex had set up a safe house in Thugger’s Alley in the Orange District, a place buried so deep in the Coruscant underworld that even the Empire didn’t want to go there. They’d drilled him back at the safe house, calling him by the name over and over, going over his story until he thought he’d dive out the window.

Trever left his quarters and headed for the turbolift. He had been given the lieutenant’s office number when he arrived, and he knew it was close to the office where he’d first checked in. He’d taken a placement exam just that morning, and the results had been tabulated. He hoped he wouldn’t get thrown out on his ear. Academics had never been his strong suit.

He made his way to the office and activated the signal light that would tell Lieutenant Maggis that he was waiting.

Trever pulled at the collar of his tunic. He wasn’t used to wearing such tight clothing. He’d be blowing this joint as soon as he could figure out a way to smuggle out Lune.

It hadn’t been hard to enroll him. Not with the devious experts around him. For the first time in his life, he had a spotless academic record. Keets Freely had added the extra touch of fabricating some articles he’d supposedly written for his school paper, all about how the galaxy was a place of justice and order since the Empire took over. Pure swill, of course, but when you looked up his fake ID through the usual channels, that’s what you found.

He hoped it all would hold up under Imperial scru-tiny. He wasn’t the smartest life-form in the quad. If he flunked the placement test, he’d be kicked out on his first day.

The door hissed open.

“Come in, already!” an impatient voice barked.

Trever had been expecting a standard Imperial officer. They all seemed to be in the mold of the Emperor - or, at least, the way Palpatine used to look before he turned into a horror holo. Tall, gray, pale. Bloodless.

But this officer was short, with a barrel chest and a big thatch of black unruly hair. His chubby cheeks gave him a boyish look, but his scowl was adult-nasty. His officer’s cap was sitting askew on a glowlamp, as if he’d tossed it across the room when he’d taken it off.

Maggis had his head close to the datascreen. “Fortin. Abysmal on academics … mathematics, atrocious. Science, miserable. Historical comprehension, beneath my contempt.” Maggis looked up at him with pure disgust. “In short, you are the sorriest recruit I’ve seen yet. How did you get accepted?”

Trever tried to look smarter. “I guess I was nervous when I took the placement test.”

“But. You tested high on reflexes and piloting. We’re looking for pilots. So welcome to the Imperial Navy. If you don’t flunk out.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m not thanking you, you idiot. Always use ‘sir’ when speaking to a superior officer. That would be me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Maggis looked at the datascreen again. “The other encouraging news is that in barely an hour here, you’ve managed to rack up ten degrades. Fortin, you are aware, aren’t you, that fifty gets you kicked out?”

“They didn’t tell me that, sir. They didn’t even tell me what a degrade was.”

“We don’t tell you everything. You’re expected to find things out for yourself.” Maggis leaned back and smiled. “And if you’re thinking that getting kicked out isn’t such a bad thing, let me explain. You don’t get to leave. You get to go to the Mining Corps and serve out your time there. So if I were you, I’d follow the rules.”