Runaway--Rogue One

I

"Pilot Bodhi Rook, report in."

"Bodhi Rook, BR-1739, reporting in."  I recite my name and identification as I've been taught.  I've never checked in before, for real.  Of course I've practiced, but that's different.

The radio moves on to the next pilot as we circle the star destroyer slowly, waiting for everyone to check in for the mission.

It's a simple training mission.  We've only been here for eight months, after all.

We are to fly out to the nearby planet of Scarif, where they are assembling the biggest weapon imaginable—at least that's what I've heard—then turn around and come back. Easy as pie.

Once everyone in the squadron has checked in, we begin our flight.

I already knew how to fly when I came. At least, I could fly a broken down Pod racer and an extremely old trading ship.

These TIE-Fighters are so much more high-tech than those ancient things from home. There's a whole array of flashing buttons that I was confident I'd never learn but now I could navigate with my eyes shut.

The only bad thing is that they don't reach light speed. So no travel. They kind of need a Star Destroyer to come home too.

Oh, and they have the nasty tendency to blow up dramatically after one or two hits.

So not the safest or fastest vessels in the fleet.

But still so much better than at home. Plus, Mama and Marzia have food and water and they can afford new clothes.

It's a dream come true.

Papa would have been proud.

I hardly remember his face anymore. Marzia was two months from being born, and I was only ten years old.  It's not common to keep images of anyone.

But he left us.

Left to join the Rebel scum, before they were even organized.

So he wouldn't really be proud of me then. He would have shot at me, and I at him. Only I don't like shooting or the idea of killing another human so no thank you.

Mon calamari or Twi'leks or the like are fine.

As the Emperor says in his speeches, "Long Last the human Empire!"

"Call number?" My radio chirps.

"BR-1739."

"Cleared. Return to the star destroyer for further commands."

"Copy."

I get a glance at the planet as I fly over. It's all clear, light blue, white sand, green trees, and grey machinery. Then I bank my turn and end up facing back in the direction I just came.

Our fleet lands in rows inside the Star destroyer's hangar, and wait until the forcefield reactivates so we can breath outside of the cockpits.

Every one of us, all twenty-eight, stand in front of our TIE-Fighters at attention while Admiral Tenki paces in front of us.  "At ease."

We snap our legs to shoulder-width apart, and put our hands behind our backs.  It's definitely not relaxed, but it's "at ease".

"We will process your fuel and distance statistics and use those to rank your class.  Return to your dormitories for the night."

"Sir, yes, sir!"  We break out into a scramble of men.

Back in the dormitories, I loosen my tight topknot and wince at my sore scalp.  I don't want to cut my hair.  Marzia remembers me with this hair.  Who knows what a year and a half can do to a young girl's memory?  And so I am required to keep it all out of my face.

When Admiral Tenki yelled at me for my hair getting in the way, my lip was trembling.  The last person to yell at me was Papa, before he left.

Since then, I've been known as the weakest of the group, most likely to drop out.

Four others have dropped out before me.

Me?

I'm here to stay.

My hair's getting kind of greasy.  I'll use this extra time for a shower.

The main reason most men keep their hair short in the Empire is the issue of showers.  The higher up you are, the more access you have to free time.  Down here, on the third-to-lowest rung (trainees are above greenhands and custodial staff), we have very little free time.

But at least we don't answer directly to Darth Vader.

Admiral Tenki is not our first commanding officer.  Before him was Captain Grens, who made a major flub that ended up killing an entire squadron.

Rumor has it that he went in to accept responsibility and never returned.

Kook says Vader ate the Admiral.  Hisham says that's stupid.  Milo says that Grens just got promoted.

Nobody knows.

I'm betting on him not being alive though.

A heavy hand smacks my shoulder forward.  I start. 

"'Ey, Rook, don't be so flighty."  It's Milo, and he's got a big smile on his face.

"Sorry."  I grab my towel and soap.  "I was just off to shower."

He nods.  "You need it, Rook.  I could smell you all of the way from my TIE-Fighter."

"You're no better."

Milo lifts an arm and sniffs.  "Fresh as a flower."

"A dead one."

He laughs and I head off to the showers.

It looks like I'm not the only one to have this idea.  I have to wait for one the three showers to open up, and there's four people in front of me, not even counting the lucky three in the showers.

This might take a while yet.