The camera opens on our heroes riding in the back of an Imperial troop transport. The transport rocks as it crosses the atmosphere of Vanqor into space. While our heroes are not in binders, their weapons have been seized, and across them sit squads of Imperial soldiers. Stim, the leader of the stim-soldiers, is in binders and unconscious. Every so often, a stormtrooper kicks the man and laugh.
Riding in the confine of an imperial troop transport, toward an Imperial capital ship wasn’t what Leon Celes had in mind at the ending on this run.
Those imperial soldiers who trafficked in glitterstim were essentially criminals and Leon personally supports eliminating corruption and traitors within the Empire. However the juicer-soldier experiment doesn’t sit well with him, nor the fact that Marek appears to have broken their deal. Leon feels therefore ambivalent about Marek and the situation.
Another nagging doubt weighs on Leon, the new identity Moira created for him is good but could never hope to stand up to a real ISB investigation. Best to try and remain invisible or risk exposing himself and Moira.
His train of thought is momentarily derailed by a sudden feeling of nostalgia as the silhouette of the Imperial corvette comes into view through the port lights.
The majority of the training fleet was made up of smaller corvettes and he had spent countless hours running drills on trainers of the Raider class. There would be significant differences but the general layout of the ship should be similar enough, that was the point after all.
On the outside Leon appears calm and obedient, doing his best remain unmemorable. Those paying closer attention will notice that when their guards cannot see his face his eyes flick back and for, making mental notes as he identifies and orients himself to the important parts of the ship from the outside.
For Frobacca, being arrested and detained by the Imperials has brought back many horrible memories of unspeakable acts against Frobacca’s family and people. He boils to turn that rage into action, trying everything in his power to help his friends escape and to cause as much turmoil to the evil Imperials in the process.
Jeek’Tal’s eyes are glowing dark red. Never trusted dirty dealing Marek from the start. That he used me and the team as pawns for Imperial purposes is unbearable. Need to make his life difficult … and short.
Wesley Dylynn, talking to his older brother Jaysen, in his head….
I don’t think there has ever been a time in my life where I felt as lost as I do now. Right and wrong seem so fluid out here, truth and justice seem like a point-of-view. Where is my fixed point? The “law” seems nothing more than a guideline, bent or broken at will by those who have the means to do so — and without any thought of anyone besides themselves. It is applied so subjectively, allowing those with power to avoid any repercussions for their actions and being used as a hammer by those same people to hurt those who have no way of defending themselves. It’s oppressive…it’s dictatorial…it’s so wrong.
So if the law itself is a mockery, then the whole institution of law enforcement seems like an illusion. Sector rangers, Imperial officers, and those who pretend to be those who took an oath to uphold the law instead use it as a weapon against their personal enemies as they advance their own agendas. Where is justice in any of this? What about freedom? Has this been the way of things most our lives and I hadn’t realized it, or did it spiral downward over the last several years as I was trying to bring order and stability — and fairness — to some backwater colony? It makes me wonder what all that was for.
I can’t help but feel that, while all my good work made it seem like law and justice were equal partners, all the while as I was preoccupied with my little corner of the world the whole galaxy became contorted into something unrecognizable. What father taught us about good government, democracy, and wielding power with responsibility, tempering justice with mercy and wisdom — none of it seems to matter out here. Maybe I’m just too stiff, too inflexible. Maybe I’m just out of my element.
I hope the core worlds are fairing better and that you and your family continue to prosper on Alderaan at the very least. I hope to get back home to visit soon, so you can give me a supportive lecture and show me how I’m just seeing the worst in things.
The troop transport locks in with the corvette and everyone disembark…