MUSTAFAR:10BBY

IV

The harsh and shrill beep of the comm on his bedside table jolted Keelan into an upright position in his bed before he had even opened his eyes. When his eyelids finally managed to pull themselves apart, he was met by the not yet familiar sight of his personal quarters. Grey, plain, stiff, yet far more comfortable than anything he had ever lived in.

When the sound went off again, his shaking hand reached to grab the comm, fumbling with the buttons before finally pressing the one that would silence the beeping. He let out a heavy sigh when silence returned, it was so quiet here, he figured it must have been the reinforced metal walls. He shut his eyes again for a second, hoping the headache that was beginning to grow wouldn't bother him too long when he knew deep down that wouldn't be the case.

Heavy mechanical breathing near his right ear.

Keelan jolted awake with a gasp, he had only nodded off for a second. He didn't let himself make the same mistake twice.

He neared the sink, splashed cold water on his face then stared at himself in the mirror. He had gotten a haircut, his long black hair that had previously reached the middle of his back had been cut neatly at his shoulders and his pathetic excuse of facial hair that had taken forever to come in was no more.

He had dark circles and his eyes watered from being so irritated, he looked awful. He wouldn't have cared if he was back on Tatooine but now he had an appearance to uphold, he wondered how long it would take for someone to comment on it.

The uncomfortable gray clothes he had been wearing yesterday had been traded out for a new tailored outfit that was just as uncomfortable as the first, he didn't understand why he was wearing an imperial navy outfit when he wasn't actually enlisted but he wasn't one to ask.

The sides hugged his thin waist and the belt could be tightened nearly to the last notch. His sleeves were now perfectly cuffed at his wrists, his boots pinched at his toes, the gloves were sweaty, the collar itched his neck, the shoulders were padded and made him look too wide at the top and thin in his hips, the hat looked horrible on him...

Keelan sighed, trying not to get caught up in how he looked, he'd spend all day tearing himself apart if he could. He didn't want to be late on his first day, Reva's word of warning about Lord Vader's tolerance for mistakes was something he always had in the forefront of his mind. He left the thoughts to haunt his bathroom and set out quickly in search of the cafeteria.

* * *

It was busy, even this early in the morning. Officers of all different ranks sat at several tables that had been lined up in rows down the center of the long room. Those who didn't sit were standing with drinks in their hands and spoke to each other in low tones. Keelan was frozen in the doorway, hesitating to enter and his shaking hands trembled at his sides.

The air was so stale here.

On Tatooine, the restaurant had always been lively, and though there were a decent amount of people here, it felt stiff. He didn't know if it was just the uniform, but the thought of all of these people willingly working here made his skin crawl.

Rewarding you with the chance to serve a greater power is practically salvation.

He pressed on.

As soon as he started to near the drink machine, eyes were on him, furthering the itch in his skin. He felt like a frog getting stalked by birds, he'd seen it happen many times from his window, how with a sudden snatch the prey would be lost to a flap of wings and flash of talons.

What made things worse was that as soon as his shaking hands set on the machine, he realized that he had no idea how to work it. And people were staring. He tried not to look back at them, to pretend they weren't there, to pretend he knew how to get a drink from this thing but all he could do was stare at it with wide eyes.