Janek Sunber, born and raised on backwater sandball Tatooine, had only believed in half of the propaganda about life in the Imperial Military bringing recruits like him to exotic worlds and glorious sights across the wider galaxy. Realistically, he knew a good chunk of sight-seeing would be bogged down by the miseries of soldiering, but he’ll fully admit he’s developed a healthy respect for all the good and bad that came with the military, especially with this new battlefront they’ve been grounded on.
The way things had gotten so… macabre so quickly definitely wasn’t something Janek could have ever prepared for.
Janek’s seen dead things on Tatooine. Wild animals, offworld strangers, friends of friends, friends of the family… If it wasn’t the heat, the Tuskens, or the occasional Krayt Dragon, then it was people killing each other. Janek counted himself lucky to have not lost someone whose passing he thought he couldn’t make peace with. At the Imperial Academy, there’d been a couple casualties during training, but Janek had given his sympathies before moving on the next day. The trainers had given dramatic talking points about honorably sacrificing for the Empire, which most of Janek’s co-trainees ate up, so Janek hadn’t gotten particularly close with any of them to mourn anyone for long.
The Titans on Kyojin really changed things for Janek. The dead and wounded from the initial crash had been bad enough. Then had come those first nights. Half of their people trapped under rubble, the other half barely holding on after fighting from sunrise to sunset…
The things Janek had to see, the very real things that felt so far away from the simulations… So many strangers, all of them becoming his brothers-in-arms as they fought together, bled together, hundreds of nameless comrades torn apart by feral Titans…
But Janek survived. He was still alive, and he was going to keep it that way.
When he had been selected by his superiors to assume command of a platoon reformed from other survivors, Janek had taken his assigned responsibilities with the seriousness they deserved. The troopers weren’t even from his usual unit. Many of them were veteran stormtroopers – Vader’s Fist, clones stretching back to the last war and non-clones with plenty of experience from other fronts faced by the Empire. No matter how green Janek was, they still adhered to his orders to the letter, so Janek did his best to lead them appropriately. As harsh as the Empire could be, and as strange and deadly as the creatures infesting this foreign world were, the last thing Janek wanted was to allow his men to die pointless deaths.
And despite the troopers Janek did lose, the platoon was still able to save people, the Kyojinites terrorized by the Titans. Frightened civilians, child soldiers, wounded militia members – saving people instead of simply watching them die filled Janek with a sense of hope for the first time in what felt like years. It was even better than what he felt after failing enrollment for pilot training and scraping up just enough aptitude to become a commissioned officer of the Imperial Army. Janek wasn’t fighting simply for his own ambitions. He was doing good service for his fellow man, for them and all of their families.
On top of everything else, Janek also got his exotic quota filled by seeing that kid, Eren Yeager, morph his body into a variant of the monstrous beings plaguing this planet. A changeling morphing its physical body into a shape with the same general mass as its original form was one thing, but willing into existence a gargantuan body of flesh and bone from a flash of lightning… Janek hardly had the words to describe the insanity of it.
If only Luke, Biggs, and the rest of the boys could see Janek now…
Actually, they’d probably find the current situation Janek was in very boring. He was sitting on a wooden barrel at the edge of the local Trost HQ’s inner courtyard. While the architecture of this world certainly had more creativity put into it than Tatooine’s lowly buildings, it was a dirt courtyard. If Luke and Biggs got into the Academy like they had all planned, then they wouldn’t find much interest in the sight of soldiers and troopers going about their regular business. Troopers were either taking a breather like Janek or helping move equipment. Kyojinite soldiers were listening in rapt attention to an Imperial officer or a specialist explaining how another piece of common Imperial tech worked.
Luke would have gotten a kick out of the ODM gear. The three of them always wanted to fly their way out of the desert. Jetpacks were more advanced and easier to use in comparison, but the ODM stuff was definitely alien, like Jabiimi repulsorlift skates or a Trianii fire blade. The kid who studied conversational Yuzz despite never meeting a Yuzzem in their corner of the Outer Rim would love to learn how the Kyojinites’ cultural upbringing led them to craft their gear, how instead of innovating their cannon tech, their most reliable tactics for Titan-killing was to fly directly at literal jaws of death.
Janek frowned as he took another bite of his ration bar.
You’re from the Rim like me, aren’t you? I didn’t take you to be so soft for soldiers, young as they are.
In the short time Janek has known him, the chances of Sheckil having a heart were slim to none, but to be so quick to threaten those kids? The youngest of the cadets had to only be fifteen-years-old.
Janek wasn’t an idiot. His mother had to teach him how to shoot a slugthrower at age ten to help defend their land from critters, criminals, and Sand People. Salt-addicted Arcona once picked a fight with him and Jaxson at Tosche Station for credits they didn’t have. A wannabe swoop gang nearly maimed his father when trying to steal the family landspeeder for scrap. Danger didn’t care what age you were. You did what you had to if you wanted to see the next morning.
But the cadets were kids pressed into military service because the alternative was to live in denial that their people were on the brink of extinction. They didn’t have a choice, not like Janek or Luke or Biggs. The Empire had the power to give the Kyojinites the choice to live in peace under a galactic power’s protection. Why waste the opportunity by throwing away the peace and overtly threatening them?
Standing orders were to be amicable with the Kyojinites anyway. They were Human, too, if Sheckil had any care for the High Human malarkey so prevalent in the Empire. Like Janek, Sheckil should be following the script and uplifting these kids, not pointing blasters at them when all they would see is the searing fire of blaster bolts coming out of them and not the non-lethal stun blasts.
Still, even on just a practical level, Sheckil should have focused on building trust instead of–
“Lieutenant Sunber?”
Janek turned his head to see the native cadet who reminded him too much of home.
Truthfully, Cadet Armin Arlert only superficially resembled Luke. Their light-colored hair was at different tints. So were their blue eyes. Camie Marstrap back home liked to bully Luke, pushed most of the gang to call him “Wormie” and poke fun at his wild imagination, treating Luke like he was more innocent and naive than he really was. Armin may be ignorant about the known galaxy, but “naive” didn’t fit him. There was a natural intelligence Armin definitely could’ve used to ace the written exams at the Academy, whereas Luke more often than not relied on his instincts. Luke was impulsive, and Armin was analytical.
The scrutiny was still in Armin’s gaze now, scanning Janek’s uniform, his holstered blaster, and the half-eaten ration bar in his hand. For all the primitive equivalents Kyojin had to Janek’s gear, everything must still seem so alien to him. Having just survived a real battle a few days ago, there was still a wariness in Armin’s demeanor, but his inquisitive attitude still shone.
Maybe this was how Luke would’ve turned out if he went through a year in the Academy. Strict training to rein his brashness into something useful, like it did for Janek. Instead of cowing to his uncle Owen’s set ways to keep to himself, Luke would be stomping down his hesitation and asking the questions stirring in his head, like what Armin was doing now.
Of course, it wasn’t simple curiosity Armin was letting him speak with Janek again. The wariness was out of concern for his two friends still under lock and key.
It wasn’t the first time since after Trost that Armin asked Janek about this. “The last I heard,” Janek said before Armin voiced the question, “Eren and Mikasa were transferred to one of your inner districts. The one directly north of us.”
Armin’s spirits instantly went down. “I see. Do you know when their trial is going to be held? You and I would be witnesses, wouldn’t we?”
Janek shrugged. “I told my superiors everything I know. If they need something more, then they’ll make it known and call on us.” At Armin’s downcast face, Janek added, “Trust me, Eren’s transformation would be strange anywhere in civilized space. Even so, for the Legion, the whole fiasco is secondary to securing passage offworld, and as far as I’m aware, your King wants your world to be part of the Empire. That means the priority is getting you and your people familiar with our weapons to start taking back your island, but that can also mean–”
“–our leaders will want to use Eren as a weapon,” Armin finished, matter-of-fact, resigned to the fact it was the best-case scenario for his friend.
There was only so much Janek could do for the kid. “I didn’t know Captain Bex personally,” Janek began evenly, “but it could’ve been the entire Speardrift crew or anyone else who Eren could have killed in his Titan form. He nearly hit your other friend, Mikasa, too. There was always going to be a price to pay for his lack of control.”
“... Mikasa didn’t kill anyone,” Armin said, trying to find something to salvage out of his friend’s poor decisions. “Commandant Keith Shadis and dozens of other officers can testify on Mikasa’s skills as a soldier. Would that appease the Empire from punishing her for her lapse in judgment? Have her contribute to the reclamation of Wall Maria alongside Eren?”
It must be a comforting image, Armin’s pals to be still in the thick of it with him helping the Empire purge their island of Titans. “Strength and loyalty are good qualities the Empire keeps its eyes out for,” Janek said. It was how he had been chosen to accompany the Legion rather than stay at the crashed Star Destroyer with the Navy spacebrains. “I’ve heard about penal units of incarcerated prisoners being pressed into Imperial service, so you might have the right idea.” Not wanting to set Armin’s hopes too high, Janek reminded him, “But again, it’s not my call. Maybe when you get called in as a witness, you can make your case to the people who can make the call.”
None of Janek’s answers about his friends ever left Armin completely satisfied, but this was the closest yet, the light in the kid’s eyes brightening a smidge. “Yeah. Maybe…”
He was probably thinking over ways to argue at a hypothetical trial, spin it so Eren and Mikasa get off with light sentences. Good for him.
“Was there something else you needed from me?” Janek prompted, swallowing the last of his ration. “Aren’t you and a couple cadets supposed to be with Drewast Squad?”
Brought back to reality, Armin nodded. “Right. We were at the market clearing space for more equipment when a merchant boss confronted Drewast about Imperials destroying or stealing goods belonging to his company.” Probably inevitable collateral from the battle, Janek assumed, which emotional natives were blaming the Empire for instead of the Titans. “Other merchants started getting riled up, too. There hasn’t been any violence yet, but things are still tense, not exactly helped by the crowd arguing in favor of the Imperials against the merchants.”
The Legion already had folks fighting in their name. Resistance from disgruntled natives had been an expectation outlined to Janek and others by the more experienced troopers and officers, but the borderline worship some of the Kyojinites were giving them after the battle was… reassuring.
“The merchant boss is demanding to speak with an Imperial officer in uniform,” Armin went on. “Someone he can look in the eye, I think.”
Although making nice with the civilian population was one of Legion’s general objectives, most of the officers like Janek were currently assigned to cooperate with the Wall Military. The senior officers were handling the aristocrats, but this boss merchant sounded too low on the chain to be bothered with. “Why didn’t you ask the troopers to call my comlink?”
“I did. They didn’t care to since our Garrison squad leader said he would handle the protesting group while the rest of us carried on with the work.” Armin gave an embarrassed smile. “I think he was too intimidated to press the stormtroopers too much.”
Janek shared the grin. He knew the feeling, before the Academy taught him how Army officers were supposed to stand their ground with stormies. Unfortunately, Janek didn’t have the time to play peacemaker for Armin. “I’m supposed to be teaching some of the Garrison a crash course in establishing and reinforcing a command post in about twenty minutes,” he said, flicking small crumbs on his gloved hand to the floor. “You’ll be fine, Wormie. Drewast can handle rowdy civvies. If the merchant boss has enough sense to become a boss, he’ll learn soon enough that agitating stormtroopers isn’t conducive to his health.”
Armin frowned. “Would… Would they use the stun setting on their blasters if the situation escalated?”
Sheckil certainly didn’t do any favors in assuaging Armin’s caution toward the Empire. “Unlike slugthrowers – your muskets, I mean. They don’t have the benefit of non-lethal blasts like our weapons. I would have shot Mikasa if she hadn’t surrendered back then, and she would have been absolutely fine. It’s the same if the troopers defend themselves. Human death isn’t on the agenda if it can be avoided.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
More questions burned in Armin, wanting to learn everything he can about the Empire before having to deal with more of its soldiers.
The next question, however, came from a different cadet.
“What’s the difference between an Army trooper and a stormtrooper?”
Armin was startled by the new arrival. Janek didn’t flinch, facing her with a cool expression.
Cadet Annie Leonhart had a fierce stare similar to Mikasa Ackerman’s, if with slightly less intensity. Unfriendly, full of distrust, directed at Janek without shame. He couldn’t blame her, since she was one of those in the incident with Sheckil.
“Oh, hey Annie,” Armin stuttered out. He was completely ignored as Annie marched in front of Janek. She was holding a metal pack marked for Imperial rations in her arms. Janek guessed she was saddled with playing courier. The Walls’ stores of food weren’t the most expansive. Since rations were the one thing that wasn’t damaged when the Star Destroyer had crashed, the Legion was distributing them in Trost until land outside the Wall was adequately secured for foraging.
“Troopers keep saying Captain Bex, the man Eren killed,” Annie continued, Armin wincing at the reminder, “was with the Army, and that another Army officer will likely replace him, but Sergeant Major Sheckil has also said the five-oh-first Legion is the Empire’s best storm-troopers, like they’re better than the ‘Army’ unit.”
Annie regularly inquired Janek for more information about the Empire as well, and from other Imperials like Sheckil and typical troopers. She went about sating her desire for knowledge with a more detached coldness. While Armin’s concerns for his friends and his home were never hidden, Janek had a feeling Annie sought to understand the Empire for her own self-preservation than for the good of the cadet corps.
“When COMPNOR finally sets things up,” Janek said, “they’ll have books and lessons to clarify–”
“Is that why you let Sheckil get away with threatening us? Because you’re not a real stormtrooper?”
Smart girl. Armin was also looking in anticipation at Janek for the answer.
Behind the cadets further in the courtyard, Janek saw a few of the Wall’s commanding officers stroll by, different emblems plastered on the basic shield insignia on their jackets. “It’s not the exact same thing,” Janek said, “but your military is divided into three main regiments: the Scouts, the Garrison, and the Military Police. Broadly speaking, the Imperial Military is also separated into three branches: the Navy, the Army, and the Stormtrooper Corps.”
Janek saw the curiosity reignite in Armin. “What’s the Navy?”
The branch that Janek had washed out of. “You heard the Legion crashed here on a starship, right? They’re a lot bigger than the gunships that cleaned up Trost. The Navy flies the big ships, takes the reins like you would on a horse-drawn carriage. The Army generally is supposed to hold territory and enforce Imperial edicts, like your Garrison maintaining the Walls and patrolling the districts. Stormtroopers are elites, following a separate chain of command that goes up straight to the Emperor. Almost like the Military Police answering to your King and the Royal Assembly, but the type of missions they take are more akin to the Scouts, leading the charge as shock troops.”
Armin mulled over the explanation. Annie was already barreling ahead. “You’re a commissioned officer of the Army,” she said, “like… a noble hiring a manager to organize their private security. Stormtroopers are promoted into leadership roles as decided by their direct superiors in the Corps.”
It was an apt comparison given Annie’s limited worldview. Janek was fairly certain all of the Wall’s military officers came up directly as grunts without an officer training school like in the Imperial Academy, but some Wall officers were likely informally backed by merchants and nobles. “Imperial titles might not mean too much to you guys, but you know Lord Vader has a noble title. He’s also the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military. His word is law for the Legion, so stormtroopers will answer to an Army officer like me–”
“–and completely disregard you if Vader says so,” Annie cut in.
She was very pessimistic with her tone, though she wasn’t wrong. “Vader came to an agreement with your King. There shouldn’t be any more hiccups like with Sheckil now that terms have been set. Undue hostility against you and your people would be tantamount to defying Vader. No one wants that.”
Annie was better at hiding her emotions than Mikasa. Janek felt Mikasa would have spat at him for alluding to Vader’s strength and authority. Annie’s glare stayed at the same level of suspicion ever since she locked eyes with Janek. “You said the Navy didn’t fly the gunships. Where do–”
“COMPNOR will explain things far better than I can,” Janek reiterated. He enjoyed the rapport he’s built with Armin, but he was better off dumping stone-cold Annie with people whose literal jobs were to convince rebellious types like her to roll with the Empire.
“Did this COMPNOR sect induct you into the Empire? I heard you mention you’re from a remote desert world… a mostly barren world, that wouldn’t be of significant worth to the Empire.”
Smart and observant. She must have eavesdropped on a few of his talks with Armin. “The recruiting office on Tatooine technically had–”
“Revealing the Empire’s deep, dark secrets to the children? Are you, Sunber?”
It was a familiar voice Janek has heard multiple iterations of in the past week that now interrupted him.
Stormtrooper Captain Coric was distinguished by his rank with an orange pauldron over his shoulder. He carried his helmet under his arm, giving the cadets their first look at the true face of an individual stormtrooper: tanned skin, a head of shaved graying hair, and more than a few scars. The otherwise grim look was broken by a small smile.
“Only pure scuttlebutt, Captain,” Janek said back in good humor to the man who had approved his appointment to Torrent Company. “The sanctity of Palpatine’s secret stash of holovids remains safe. Trust me.”
“I’ll hold you to it. I don’t think his black heart can take it if he loses the one thing that still gives him life.”
Coric certainly didn’t fit the image in Janek’s head of a loyal stormtrooper, let alone a Clone Wars vet, but Janek supposed even droids developed their own personality quirks without regular memory wipes, and the whole point of clone troopers according to the history books was that their creative thinking trumped droid brains every time without compromising their loyalty.
Stang, the cadets haven’t learned about clones yet. That’s sure to be a wild topic for them.
Once they got over Coric’s sudden appearance, Annie and Armin were ready to shoot more questions. Coric shifted the direction of the conversation before they could. “Tell me something: are you cadets supposed to be so skinny? Or is it a tactical decision to make sure Titans only munch on so much meat before they lose interest? Savor the fat ones while the skinny ones go for the kill?”
Janek had gotten more used to morbid humor from the more talkative troopers, far more vulgar than the worst things he’s said with the boys on Tatooine, but now he restrained himself from forcing a chuckle. This type of joking wouldn’t endear Armin or Annie any. Annie was already glaring at Coric with that default glower of hers. Janek imagined Armin would be awkwardly shuffling his feet if he wasn’t keeping his body so tense.
“We have a food shortage,” Annie said with the expected unfriendliness. “We’re also teenagers.”
“I’ve worked with half-starved braided fierfeks on backwater worlds with only a single shorted-out fusion cutter and our good feelings to protect ourselves, and even they had more muscle than the ‘cadets’ on this planet.”
Playing the optimist, Armin said, “And you’re here to improve our odds and make us stronger.”
“Yes, the Empire’s here to improve your dietary habits. You’ll be conquering the entirety of Kyojin in no time.”
Annie stayed as still as a statue when Coric stepped closer and flipped open the ration pack she was still holding. Coric tossed a handful of the compact bars inside to Armin, who clumsily caught the batch. “Those are supposed to be for the Garrison Elites,” Annie remarked.
“We retook the gate already. The Garrison Elites will just get fatter sitting on their shebse up on the wall. It’ll be the teeny cadets who need the calories to burn.” Coric took a large bite from one ration for emphasis. He snuck a smirk at Janek. The clone was intentionally messing with the kids. Maybe this was his way of ingratiating himself with the Kyojinites, providing minor charities like free food while ribbing on them. “Who knows? Maybe a change in diet is the push your brand of humanity needs to get more transforming Titans.” At the disbelieving looks he received, Coric put on his helmet and gave a conspicuous head movement at Janek. “On your feet, Sunber. We’ve got a last-minute meeting.”
Captain Coric was already walking away. Janek shrugged at the cadets, one offering a polite smile and the other methodically chewing on a ration, before following after Coric.
The clone kept a brisk pace, staying ahead of Janek. They moved out of the HQ and trekked on a route to the prefab base established where the Yeager kid had picked up the giant boulder. It wasn’t a long walk, but the city was still bustling with activity. Reconstruction for Titan-damaged buildings was still ongoing, especially now that the bodies of the dead and from Titan vomit were cleared out. Lots of civilians blatantly stared at the fully armored trooper and the uniformed offworld officer marching around them.
Although Janek hasn’t worked extensively with Coric, he found it easy to follow the senior soldier’s lead. Without looking back, Coric tossed over his shoulder a comlink smaller than the handheld Army model. “Strap it over your ear,” Coric said.
Janek caught on to what was happening. Stormtrooper helmets could maintain an internal communication line separate from the usual channels, blocking any sound escaping from inside the helmets. Janek hadn’t been given the codes or a stormie bucket to access the private lines in his platoon, but giving Janek a new comlink when equipment like that was in limited supply…
“Welcome to the inner circle,” Coric said on the comm without facing Janek. Pre-Academy Janek would be smiling in satisfaction. Lieutenant Sunber kept his cool, not letting their civvie audience see a change in expression. “Count yourself lucky, Sunber. You were in the right place at the right time.” Befriending the Titan shifter’s childhood best friend, Janek naturally assumed. “Chainly and I talked it over, and we like your style. Say your farewells to the Army, and consider yourself five-oh-first now. Bonus credits will be issued when we get back to Imperial Space.”
Joining Vader’s Fist had been the farthest thing in Janek’s mind when he received his officer commission. Commanding one of their platoons while stranded on this world was a practical necessity, but to be personally congratulated into the Imperial Legion not even a full year after leaving the Academy? In what galaxy did that make sense? Not that Janek was complaining.
“Your normal duties aren’t changing by much,” Coric continued. “Lead Lochere Platoon, be tough but fair with the Kyojin kiddies, and so on. We’re mostly cutting down on the middlemen between you and Vader for when he needs you for something.”
… In his excitement at advancing the Imperial hierarchy, Janek had foolishly forgotten how it also meant he had to deal with Vader more…
“Vader is everyone’s boss, but Commander Jir will be number two on the food chain, not General Ziering.” Janek could hear the smile in Coric’s next words. “You’ll get to boss around Sheckil some more, so that’s a plus.”
Commander Daine Jir was a decent guy, proven when the man fired a rocket launcher to destroy a Titan’s nape before the beast could sink its teeth into a half-conscious Janek. They haven’t directly interacted much beyond that. Janek hoped he was more like Coric than Sheckil.
Reaching the prefab base, Coric waved at the stormtrooper guards at the front entrance and exchanged some pleasantries – more Torrent Company troopers who knew Coric well – before Janek found himself surrounded by the bland metal corridors of Imperial infrastructure. He was missing the native Kyojinite scenery already.
“When you find the time, and the security clearance,” Coric said on the private comm, “look up Honoghr, Skye, and Eiattu. They’ll give you a better idea on how Vader’s likely to play things on Kyojin. For now, keep quiet, listen, and speak when prompted. Feel for the mood to know when not to blab more than you should. Things are moving faster than we’ve done on previous ops since we legitimately are stranded on this planet, so you need to keep up the pace with the lucky streak you’ve been having. It’s your shebs if you can’t make the cut.”
Coric brought Janek to a basic meeting room with a wide table circling around a holoprojector at the center. Other Imperials already occupied the room, though no one was sitting down as they watched a hologram of a Scout Trooper – no, a Storm Commando. The holographic image was the typical transparent blue hue, so they couldn’t normally distinguish a Scout’s white armor and a Commando’s black plating, but the voice was of the woman who Janek had let take the human-sized Yeager after the Titan shifter dropped the boulder.
Vader stood tall with folded arms as he listened to the Storm Commando’s report. She had an arm outstretched in front of her, so she must be viewing a smaller hologram of Vader on her portable comlink from her end. “... from other Humans,” Ghoul was saying. “Hange Zoe of the Scouts has a lot of theories. I’ve verified none of them. She’s eccentric but no less competent or creative. I don’t know what she’ll find from her samples of Yeager’s blood. There’s always a chance the native tech can perceive something we can’t.”
In the unnerving voice Janek had never thought he’d hear in-person, Vader said, “Their trial is scheduled in three days.” Their trial – Mikasa Ackerman and Eren Yeager. “They will neither be executed nor imprisoned. The Wall Military will retain custody of them, but they must be placed in the joint task force.” Vader raised a hand in the direction of a stormtrooper officer about a decade older than Janek. “Commander Jir, speak for the Empire during the trial and see to it.”
With a professional nod and bow, Jir said, “It will be done, my lord.”
Vader’s blank eyes bored into Ghoul. “Submit regular reports on Yeager. The Science Team will make do with the data and the samples you provide as a secondary endeavor. Their current priority is the duties of the conventional expedition and relief efforts.”
An officer wearing the rank plaque of a General, not Ziering, frowned at Vader. “The boy is a Titan,” said the man who certainly had confidence to speak against Vader of all people. “That much is obvious. The medic has confirmed his humanity. The Science Team have convincing theories about the Titans’ origins, given the Kyojinities’ language and our observations made before the crash. Studying the boy as an undocumented mutation may yield insight for–”
“Yeager holds strength beyond his Titan transformation,” Vader said with a finality that made the General shut his mouth. “I will ensure all of his abilities are used in service of the Empire. You will ensure the civilians remain compliant until our inevitable return.”
“Of course, Lord Vader.”
A part of Janek felt exhilarated upon realizing that this really was the inner circle – special forces like Ghoul, elite commanders like Jir, high-ranking generals, and then there was lowly officer Sunber, middling Academy graduate listening to Darth Vader himself lay out how he wanted the Legion to handle their stranding on this foreign world. Janek wasn’t resigned to waiting for the orders to come down the ladder to him. He was witnessing how those orders way above his pay grade were decided.
Janek’s heart rate went up when he felt Vader set his gaze on him. The apprehension surely showed on Janek’s face as Vader asked him what was only a simple inquiry about his most recent talks with Armin.
Forcing himself to calm down, Janek followed Coric’s advice and spoke as honestly and tactfully as he could.
This wasn’t a battlefront Janek would have chosen to serve on, but it was the life he chose. There was no going back. He’ll do his duty, help the Kyojinites take back their home, and actually make something out of himself, or die trying.