

                                     Honor and Conflict

    

     "These are truly flying fortresses", I thought to myself as I was walking down the long, wide corridor.
     You would think after being a Captain for 2 months now, and on the verge of my Major rank promotion, that I would be used to walking this god-awful distance.  I  smirk to myself as I walk down the hallway, "Bah!  It's better to walk than to ride that sluggish shuttlevater. It's more honorable".
I have always lived by honor.  Maybe that's why I'm still alive and not lying dead beneath battle debris on some worthless planet. 
     Sometimes it's really hard to understand the concept of the New Republic and the Rebellion; they fight for most trivial territories that are relatively easy to recover from the Empire.  These  systems are sparsely populated with  inadequate resources. 
    Ah!  It's these long distance walks that make an officer think too hard, and that can be dangerous.  It is better to think heavily now than during  the flight.
    Finally approaching my personal quarters,  I reach for my code key and swipe down through the digital lock slot.  The door rises with such speed that it startles new recruits - reminding me of my early Imperial years.  I often think back at times like this because it was only yesterday that I was that "young Cadet." 
      Suddenly that thought disappears in a flash when I notice a green blinking light.  Like clockwork, I walk over to my desk to check for any transmissions that may have come in while I was gone.  As usual, there was one unread transmission,  an urgent one  that couldn't wait until the next Imperial day.  I tap on the log-in button and the transmission begins:

 "Good evening Captain Smitroc.  This is Wing Commander Shups. I figured I would give you an early notice to tomorrow's events."

     Smitroc- "I grin with pleasure"      
     
     Shups- "As you are aware Captain, the Empire has had a small spy network within the Republics 2nd largest Fleet this side of the Great Asteroid field.  "The spy's have transmitted some relatively important information via the primitive Centinal Codex Signal which cannot be scanned by Republic sensors"
"The Republic Fleet will rendezvous with a large band of smugglers on the outer edge of the Great Asteroid Field.  It seems the Republic has bargained with the smugglers to transfer small probe sensors, which will be attached to their cargo.   As the smugglers enter Imperial Territory to trade on our controlled systems,  these probes will  record and send military information directly back to the Republic Militia."
     "These recordings will show the Republic exactly were all our primary military installations are on each Imperial controlled planet.   Now Captain,  you can see the importance of tomorrow,  you will be fully briefed on our direct attack mounted at the Republic Fleet.  The smugglers will have to be reprimanded and punished for their stupidity.  Greed will be their demise, Captain.  There is no such thing as failure Captain!  That is all for now."

---Transmissions has ended---

    As the transmission fades, I turn to my porthole window  where the only view is endless, cold, deep space with the flickering of distant stars.  I  raise both hands to my eyes and begin to rub my temples for relief from a classic migraine.  Even though I have flown against the enemy more times than I can recollect,  I still get the ceremonial migraine.   It seems as though it's a ritual with me.  It must be the pressure of having to come out on top...  a reputation that I have made for the Squadron and myself.  
      I grin to myself...as a matter of fact, I don't think I ever lost more than 25% of my shields, even in the most demanding of our conflicts           (something I tend to never say out loud).
      I slowly make my way over to the sleeping area of my quarters.  I lay supine on my back, staring at the gray metal ceiling.  Tomorrow's attack on the Republic Fleet will be like none I have done before, considering the Smugglers role in it.  The question is: will the smugglers cooperate and let us handle the Rebels?   Will they decide to attack the Empire for fear of losing their bounty?  Perhaps they will run like the cowards  they are,  in fear of punishment, as a result of their foreshadowed actions toward the Empire? 
     I ponder on these thoughts until I drift off into a coma sleep...

                                                                                   Smitroc

