Ezrain Eldarkze was on his knees, clad only in his black jumpsuit. His other eight squad mates joined him to form a circle around their armor.
They were in the Pre-Fab Headquarters at Boot Camp Eglos, on Talus. After two years of hard work and training, they were about to graduate from boot-licking recruits into full-blown privates.
This night vigil was one of their last tests.
Powerful incense burned around the circle. They were seated on a light blue rug, embossed with an enormous Imperial cog. The metallic hut they were in rang of spartan beauty: clean, shiny metal walls were dimmed in the candlelight, a mixture of ancient human ritual merged with Imperial efficiency. In the center of the rug, their armor stood on stands, eerily reflecting their faces in the breastplates. Soon they would don these suits, not in a mere training exercise, but as legitimate shock troops of the Empire.
Their spiritual advisor, HK-373 was reading from a book titled “The Emperor's Word”:
“The Emperor is my shepherd. Through him, all things are done. May he carry me to the golden gates of his throne, if I should die in battle. He watches over me even in the heat of combat. He watches over me during my resting hours. He watches over me always.”
“The Emperor is mighty indeed,” intoned the nine recruits.
HK-373 droned on. “He leads me through the ashes of Varn, across the icy wastes of Shagur, through the mountains of Ishigor...He watches over from His throne room, high above in the heavens. With my hand in his, anything is possible.”
“The Emperor is mighty indeed.”
HK-373 shut the libram. “Now troopers, spend the night face down. You will pray to your Emperor for His guiding light and will to surround and fill you, so that you may better strike back at those who would declare themselves His enemies. Spend the night in pondering of your life: knights of the Empire.”
Ezrain closed his eyes and spread-eagled himself before his armor. He did not shut his eyes; he knew sleep would not come this night. He reflected on his past, and how the Emperor had lead him here.
The night he slew his brother.
The night he fled Naboo.
The night he came upon Camp Eglos.
The night he helped Weg.
The night he patched Odo up.
All these nights and more came flooding back. All of them culminated in this, this night of his armor rites. The next morning, they would be presented with the rest of the recruit crop to become full-fledged Stormtroopers. Soon, they would be a self-serving unit above, in the black. Star Destroyer duty was common for fresh recruits. Let the cushy land patrols come later in their career. For now, the new troops would see action, and lots of it. Ezrain was looking forward to healing the masses aboard their Star Destroyer. All of his medic training would pay off, and he would learn from the best surgeons the Empire had.
Ezrain pondered these thoughts, then turned them over to his Emperor. He began to pray silently...
“Emperor Palpatine, my lord...this is your servant Ezrain speaking. I have given my body, my will, and my mind over to you. Allow me to be the fire of your war machine, the sword in your hand, the curse from your lips, and the thunder from your footsteps. Grant me the blood of your enemies. Give me your blessing and smile upon me this night, as I prepare to serve you forever....”
Ezrain's thoughts were much the same that night. As he prayed on, the calm night was half-over. The usual Talusian rain had subsided, as if the Emperor himself smiled upon the initiation of these nine soldiers.
As dawn broke, HK-373 commanded them to rise. In grim silence, they dressed their armor over their jumpsuits. Piece by piece, they assembled themselves into manifestations of the Emperor's will. With an emotionless look on his face, Ezrain finally put his helmet on. He smiled his last smile.
Ezrain Eldarkze was becoming LK-486.
