Difference between revisions of "Viktor Tue"

Latest revision as of 04:46, 29 January 2012

Record of Achievements:

[[1]] [IABG] Graduated 29.10.2010

[10IFR] 10th Imperial Fleet, Retired.

[[2]] [LOC] Letter of Commendation Awarded Y12 D167 15.05.2011

Transfering personal log. Y12D151

Name, Viktor Tue. I'm a Master Flight Sergeant in the Imperial Navy. I don't have time or inclination to write my biog here and I'm not much for recording my own activities. I guess you could say I don't look for the limelight.

A while back, before I was even a sergeant, I had some days to fill in and I wrote a page or two on what brought me to the Galactic Empire, just for the record. I hear the brass are interested in that kind of thing right now so I've dug up the old file and stuck it in here. So, if you're of a mind to, please read on.

How I Became An Imperial

Y11D???

I’ve got two days in hyperspace ahead of me and for once instead of the usual cramped TIE I'm flying a shuttle with some room to move around, so I'm going to use the time to write down in my standard issue personal log how I came to be here, how I became part of the Galactic Empire. I guess I should start at the beginning.

My full name is Viktor Cornelius Tue and I was born on the planet Zeltros, so that makes me a Class B citizen. I get some funny looks when I'm out in uniform without my flight helmet. I've been asked more than once why a man from Zeltros would join up. I don't even bother to answer.

It’s a mistake to think we're all are drunken hedonists who can’t do a day’s work. Zeltrons are spirited, passionate and loyal, and those that learn to use a little will-power can resist the endless parties and dedicate themselves to something bigger. Like I did.

I always knew I was different to most people on my planet. Don’t get me wrong though, I had my share of wild times, I just didn’t take things too far. It seemed natural I should always be the one driving the speeder to the next party. My species is famous for its enthusiasm and sure enough it soon kicked in and I started to love ferrying everyone around. I got an empathy buzz off my friends and they could feel I was enjoying it. Our speeder rides were more fun than the parties we were headed to!

In those days I paid the bills by working as a guide taking tourists around nature reserves. It was a good job, but it had some drawbacks. When you’re the only empath in a group on a three-day trek in the wilds things can go downhill pretty fast. After a close call on a fishing trip with a party of Trandoshans I decided it was time to get some new skills. I started learning chan’tor, an ancient mediation that helps me focus. Let's me deal with empathy overload. It changed my life.

I had friends, a good job, and I had a handle on dealing with off-worlders. Things were pretty good, but maybe a little dull. They would’ve stayed that way if my uncle Tohbias hadn’t come to visit. Tohbias was another one of the temperate few so we always got on. He turned up one Mid-Winter’s Eve dressed in his Zeltros Planetary Defence uniform. Six foot two of tailored neon-blue with a Group Captain’s amethyst at his throat. He told me how safeguarding the planet was so much better than any selfish pleasure would ever be. I'd seen the Holonet news, I knew there was pretty much constant war going on around us, but it never came to our planet. The war seemed so far away. An evening spent listening to uncle Tohbias tell his stories of catching pirates changed my mind. I didn't know about the hijacked passenger liners or the women who'd been taken by traffickers to be sold as slaves on distant worlds. I thought we were safe, but I was wrong. I knew then what I wanted to do with my life. I enlisted in the ZPD within a month.

It turned out I was a natural at flying so I was sent to pilot training as soon as I graduated from boot camp. Spaceflight and combat training were my new obsessions and my friends thought I’d dropped off the face of the planet. They were right. I was up among the stars. In my flight school finals I scored low in tactics and planning, but I didn’t feel bad about it because everyone on Zeltros is terrible at that stuff. My scores in leadership and quick-thinking were above average and it wasn’t too long before I got promoted to Squadron Leader. During that time I mostly lived a solitary life splitting it between patrols in high orbit and learning offworld martial arts from the Holonet.

I’d have stayed in the ZPD if Captain West Reynolds of the Imperial Navy hadn’t visited Zeltros. I’d read his book on TIE fighters cover to cover about six times and I started bugging my CO to invite him to talk to the pilots over the Holonet. I knew we could learn a lot from a man like him. My CO eventually saw the sense of if and put out a request, but Captain West Reynolds went one better and came in person. I sat through his lecture in total silence, taking in every word. I remember that's when I got the first urge to fly TIEs. Even as I sit here now, stretching my legs out in the comfort of a Lambda shuttle, even though I've flown TIE scouts from one system to another as easy as driving a speeder across a city, I’d still rather be in a standard TIE fighter. Something about those little ships just does it for me. They're an incredible space superiority starfighter, sure, but they're more than that. They're a symbol.

Seeing the Captain's neat grey uniform I felt gaudy in my purple one and I began to see the ZPD in a new light. I began to understand that protecting one planet, one way of life, was a tiny thing next to the work of the Galactic Empire. The lecture had a big affect on all of us. The pilots started practising close-formation flight patterns and concentrated fire on target drones. Till then our only real defence against cap ships had been getting invaders onto the ground as quickly as possible and letting the party atmosphere do the rest. Hey, it worked on the last twelve invasions didn’t it?

Captain West Reynolds woke something up in us with his talk of duty, peace through stability, the need to defend the weak from pirates and ambitious political idealists. I think he woke up our pride. We all knew deep down that our starfighters were mostly for show. It took a few months, but I eventually persuaded my CO to send a couple of squads to Tatooine to train with the Imperial garrison at Bestine. Twenty of us, thirteen men and seven women, flew a freighter along the Correllian Run taking turns to fly the old bucket.

Bestine is not what you expect from a Tatooine town. It’s clean and it’s safe. Ok you wouldn’t choose it as a holiday destination, but as a place to work it’s pretty decent. Why is it so different from the rest of the planet? Guess. Take a walk down any street in Bestine and you see white armour on every corner and black on white cogs hanging from the tallest buildings fluttering in the breeze. We were there three weeks and I got to fly a TIE/ln twice. They were looking to recruit us if we were any good so they let us fly Imperial ships, but I didn't care. First time it was an old training ship that launched from the ground, but the second time it was a drop from an ISD in a brand new ship. I have good memories of Bestine. And one bad one. While I was there news came in over the local Holonet about an explosion at a military base at Mos Espa. Over 200 dead, some civilians caught in the blast. The Rebellion claimed it. They said it was a victory for freedom against the 'oppression of the Empire'. I don't think the families of those killed saw it that way.

So, now I've clued you in on how wrong people are about Zeltrons, here's another little known fact. TIE pilots don’t think like other people. I didn't get that until I spoke to one. More accurate to say I listened to him because I don’t think I spoke more than a hello and some idiotic comment about how much fun it must be flying those fast little ships for a living. What he said will never leave me. I remember every word. He said:

“Bucket heads, that’s what reb pilots call us. Those academy drop-outs know nothing, and less than nothing about us. You know what we call ourselves? Coffin jockeys. TIE fighters are the best ship in their class, but if you fly in them one day you’ll die in them. Only the top ten percent get to fly TIEs, boy. There has to be steel in you. Hve you got steel in you boy? We’re the ones they rely on in the black. On the ground you want a few squads of stormtroopers around, but up there you want us. One squad will do. Twelve TIEs will take out a cap ship before breakfast, clean up the perimeter and get back in time for lunch.

“Ever been out in one of our little blazing coffins? [I think at this point I probably mumbled something about the beaten up old ship I’d been allowed to fly in the training canyon. He ignored me.] You’re freezing your butt off in a cockpit the size of a toilet stall with only four inches of durasteel between you and hard vacuum and the whole ball will get smoked with one good hit from a quad laser. No shields. No hyperdrive. No ejector seat. Do we care? What do you think? You don't get into the top ten percent if that kind of thing bothers you. I don't need all that security, I have my squad around me and I know who my enemies are. There's a whole galaxy to defend so if we're done here I'll be getting back to it.”

Can you imagine? I knew what I had to do. It had finally hit home. All the pieces of the puzzle fit together and the picture was bigger and brighter than I had ever imagined. I went to the garrison recruiting office the same day, sent a holo home to tell the folks I wouldn’t be back and shipped out to the Academy on the next shuttle. Imperial military protocol superseded my ties to the ZPD so I wasn't listed as AWOL, but I’m sure my CO wasn’t too impressed. The way I see it though, I’m doing the same job but on a lot bigger scale. The Empire isn't looking after one tiny planet among millions, we're looking after them all. It took me a while to understand that. I mean, what good is it protecting your home world if the rest of the galaxy has gone down the garbage chute? So here I am, black uniform, blue squares on my chest and doing my bit as part of the mighty Imperial Navy. I salute my picture of the Emperor every morning, then I get into my ship and go to work doing the best damn job in the galaxy. And talking of work, I hear my proximity alarm telling me I'm about to drop out of hyperspace. Time to get back to keeping order out among the stars. Long live the Emperor!