Buckets: A Star Wars Story

29. Survivor

"What is your name?"

"TK-65780."

"No, your name."

"I just told you. TK-65780."

"Do you not have a normal name?"

"Not anymore - and I don't know a single thing about where the fleet went or what they're doing. That was well above my paygrade."

The interrogating officer seemed vexed, but I wouldn't have to deal with him much longer as a Rebel trooper walked in and turned to him, "Sir, Major Venn wants to take it from here."

"Seriously? It's just a Stormtrooper!"

"He knows this trooper, sir. He thinks he might have better luck."

The officer looked beyond annoyed at the development, but I had to give him credit on not protesting too much as he left the room with only minor grumbling. Venn appeared moments later, datapad in hand and with Talen Jall at his heel. The two stopped at the entrance of the room and looked at me. Venn... I could never tell what he was thinking, but Talen looked almost sad, I must have looked pretty pathetic in those handcuffs and still miserably dirty. I was a defeated man then, and judging from their faces I must have looked it.

"Major Ithan Ruana," Venn began, glancing at the datapad. "Now-Commander of Maelstrom Squadron of the Imperial Special Forces, a veteran of the battles of Lothal, Jakku, Hoth, Yavin, and Endor, and our former enemy. You have quite the record for a Teekay." He had moved to the vacated chair before me and had sat down almost casually, crossing one leg over the other before he looked up from the datapad and smiled at me. "Listen, I'm not stupid. You don't know a damned thing about what Rax and Sloane were doing. I know enough about Imperial politicking to get that much. My superiors want answers. Grunts like you won't have them, SpecOps or not. If Inferno Squad didn't know anything, you won't either."

The mere mention of those traitors was enough to make me tense up. They hadn't just left. They sold us out when they did. Desertion was forgivable. Treason was not.

"Sore subject?"

"They're deserters and traitors."

"Yet they're alive and most of your men aren't. Your leaders abandoned you. I think we know who got the better deal."

I leaned forward in my chair, "If I have to become some martyr to protect the Empire, then so be it."

Venn gave a sigh and set the datapad down on his lap, "You are dedicated. Listen, I'm going to cut you a deal here because I have a lot of respect for you and the Dreamers. You're good soldiers. You're dedicated, driven, and if we had a thousand of you, we could have beaten the Empire in moments. What the Empire has done to you is borne out of desperation. No one deserves to be abandoned. However," he uncrossed his legs and sat up in the chair, "here's my price: you'll be under surveillance until deemed otherwise, specifically mine. You will have no contact with the fleets without us knowing about it. My second half to these terms is simply this: teach for me."

I was dumbfounded. Here I was, arguably dangerous, getting offered a teaching position. "What?" It was the only question that found its way to my mouth.

"I can't give you a job in our military, and frankly I doubt you'd even take it, but I can put you to work doing something else. Your tactical knowledge, your tact, your history... the New Republic needs all of that now more than ever and we don't have enough retired commanders to fill the void. You don't need to give intelligence; you don't need to take any oaths of loyalty - all you need to do is agree to step into a military academy and train our future officers."