Recurring Nightmares of the Shattered Skies (Damien Kantrael)

Agent Scothis reviewed the data pads before him with a subtle degree of boredom. The jacket of his uniform was open; the room was too hot for the stiff formalities of a disciplined soldier. Finding a new pilot was always an adventure. Inquisitor Helghast trusted Scothis' judgment enough to allow him to pick the next one after Jerrard's last choice had been offed for royally ruining an exfil several missions ago. It had been a bit more complicated than that short summary but Scothis wasn't a fan of dredging up the pains of the past when he could be relaxing.

He flipped the next data pad in front of him.

"Damien Kantra... Kantrael."

=======

Several hours later, in the Inquisitoriate's Citadel on Coruscant, Scothis wore the proper uniform to an immaculate degree. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Agent Y'lor Jerrard sat at the table, his hands resting on the table in front of him, fingers interlocked.

"So you only picked one?"

Jerrard, the elder of the two, didn't bother turning around to face his long-time partner.

"No. I picked two. And then IMP found out one of those two was high as a kite on glitterstim for the last two years of his career."

"That would limit your options then I suppose."

"But don't get me wrong, this guy isn't like he is our last option. For the moment, I'll say he just appeared that good from what I read."

"I'm surprised you even read them and didn't go off the profile pictures alone."

AGENTS. AGENT CLASS II DAMIEN KANTRAEL WAITS OUTSIDE FOR YOUR SIGNAL TO ENTER AND BEGIN HIS REVIEW BOARD.

Scothis pushed himself off the wall and stretched. Jerrard rubbed his face with one gloved hand. Once they were both seated and had their best game faces on, Jerrard sighed than waved his hand, signalling IMP to inform Agent Kantrael to enter.

Damien rubbed the invisible lint off the shoulder of his uniform for the hundredth time today. Nervous? Yes. A little, but not because he felt he was unqualified. Very few people in his position had such glowing qualifications for the position he was applying for. The academy required two hundred hours in the starship simulator to graduate. Damien had easily doubled that amount of time. His professors said he had gone above and beyond they're expectations. He ran numerous simulations on every starship the simulator had programmed into it. His hands on experience had gone just as well. If not for the cost of fuel and the lack of professional supervision, Damien would have spent that much more time behind the controls of a real ship. Everyone had expected him to go into the navy, to helm cruisers and warships for the Empire he loved so much. However, he had always been one for going above and beyond, so instead of taking the usual career path he went into the Intelligence branch and the Inquisition.

So, why was it with such great credentials backing him up that he was so nervous? Because it's the Inquisition. Although he dearly loved his glorious Empire, he knew that the Inquisition was a nest of snakes and back stabbing was commonplace and manipulation was a must. Who knows what they would put him through now that he was applying for such a glorious position as part of Project: Nightmare. A program so secret that you only heard whispers about it. It was both exhilarating and frightening.

"Agent Kantrael, you may go in now."

Sitting up from his chair in the waiting room, Damien pushed through the doors into the interview room. Stepping up to the table where the two men sat, Damien pulled off a sharp salute. "Agent Class Two Damien Kantrael, reporting as directed."

Agent Scothis acknowledged the salute and Agent Jerrard made a gesture towards the empty chair on the other side of the table.

Scothis wasn't surprised from what he saw. Kantrael was more or less what he had expected. And even with all his qualifications, the kid was still green. But he had faith that the kid's theoretical skill when applied would keep him above water, at least long enough to meld real experience with his innate talent.

As Kantrael took a seat, Jerrard began the interview.

"I am Agent Class Three Jerrard. This is Agent Class Three Scothis. Before we begin, we will reiterate the waivers that you signed prior to committing to this interview. You, Agent Class Two Damien Kantrael understand that this interview is classified at the highest levels? You understand that should you violate the security measures of that classification you forfeit your life to the Empire by immediate execution? You understand further that you have been upgraded to scarlet classification by acknowledging the existence of the Imperial Inquisition group known as the Nightmares and that any violation of that classification will also result in forfeit of your to the Empire by immediate execution? Furthermore, you understand that your assets will be seized and any possible liable persons that you are associated with will also be forfeit?"

Scothis knew it was just a formality but he was glad that Jerrard bothered with that mouthful of legalese.

So, there was the catch. The ugly truth now on full display in all it's ugliness. It was, though, hardly a choice. Damien had been raised that the greatest fulfillment of life he could achieve was to sacrifice it for the glorious Empire. There was a brief moment, memories falling on him like snow, as his mind traveled to his family. He did not have much. His father was killed in action and his mother was only a ghost of her former self. She could easily be dragged down with him should he slip up. However, in the end, his mind had been made up the whole time. It was a worthy sacrifice to serve his Empire as best as possible. There truly was no extent to which he would not go to serve the Empire.

"I understand. Sir."

This time, as he leaned forward, Scothis was the one who spoke.

"I'm not sure you do, Agent Kantrael. As far as official records are concerned, you more or less won't exist. You'll be Agent Kantrael, nothing more, nothing less. Classes don't matter in the Nightmares, you don't get rewards, and you don't show up on holovids as the next Imperial poster boy. There is no expectation for you to succeed. There is no standard for you to surpass. You either accomplish the mission or you die trying. And if you can't do the latter, any one of us in the Nightmares will leave you behind in a ditch, dead if need be and most likely. As a Nightmare, you make the ultimate sacrifice for the Empire. Your record is an excellent outlier among your peers but is your loyalty?"

Scothis let that hang in the air like lead weights in water. Plenty of people could make the cut until they were actually in the hot seat with the rest of the Nightmares. Inquisitor Helghast had no patience for failure as it was seen as a lack of loyalty in the eyes of the Empress herself. Scothis was not a machine like the Inquisitor but between Jerrard and himself, they had worked with the former Grand Inquisitor Tear, the now Grand Inquisitor Valten and now under Inquisitor Helghast, still alive and in continued service. Needless to say, Scothis and Jerrard knew which way was up in the Inquisitoriate and they had seen many an up-and-comer drop like flies.

Everything he had done up to this point, the good grades, the amount of time spent learning to pilot, had all been for the sole purpose of better serving the Empire, Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Every day, every breath, was a gift that the Empress had given him, and how could he spent that gift if not to return the favor?

"There is no limit to my service to the Empire, sir. If that means I am to become a faceless soldier, that my accolades be only known to me, I can live with that. Any way that I can serve the Empire greatest. I will make that sacrifice. Sir." He replied, his jaw set with the rock hard determination bred by years of listening to Imperial propaganda radio and watching all the holovids showing just how great the Empire was. Damien was a fanatic and a zealot. If Agent Scothis asked him to put a blaster in his mouth and pull the trigger, he would do so if there was even the mildest way for it to benefit the Empire.

Jerrard crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair with a slight slouch.

"We'll see about that..."

He could see something in the young pilot's eyes but he couldn't confirm just how stalwart that dedication was there. And his doubts were enough that he wouldn't take Kantrael in front of the Inquisitor just yet. He'd let the pilot prove himself to some extent before they made that risk.

"Head to the Nightmares' antechamber then. The guards waiting for you will escort you to your new quarters. Unless otherwise notified, we'll have an operations brief in the morning. The operations server is now accessible. Tomorrow you'll also begin with the initial phases of the augmentation necessary to operate with the Nightmares. Any questions?"

"No sir. Thank you sir." Damien replied, rising from his seat, bringing his arm up into another smart salute and then turned on his heel and marched out of the room. It wasn't until he was outside, down the hall, and on his way to his new quarters that he finally let himself breath again. He couldn't wait to get to said quarters so he could unbutton his uniform and cool down after that intense but short conversation. It had been hotter than a Jawa's jock strap in there.