A Day in the Life of an Imperial Staff Officer

Dear Dad,

You mentioned that you would like to know what my days are like now that I have graduated from the Raithal Imperial Academy, and since I’m on staff duty with not a lot to do, I figured I’d tell you. As you know, I did not get my first choice of assignment to the Stormtrooper Corps. I’m sure that makes both you and mom happy that I will be out of combat, but ever since I read the Tarkin Doctrine in school, I have wanted to be at the forefront of the Empire’s forces. Plus, the black uniforms the Stormtrooper Officers get to wear are so much cooler than these gray ones the rest of us wear in the Army.

However, due to my high test scores, I have been given a very “prestigious” assignment for a junior officer: I am assigned to the Plans Section, Operations Division, Orbital Battle Station, Death Star – North Sector. Aka, I’m a very junior staffer on a colossal base. This is the premier battle station in the Imperial Fleet, and we’re told that it is now the supreme power in the universe – although tell that to Lord Vader and he’ll force choke your brains out. Dad, the staff dynamics are way different than when you were in.

We start out the day at 0500 with officer PT. Naturally, it’s only junior officers there. Although one day Captain Piett did jog in while on a visit from the fleet, take a look at the total sausage fest that is our all-male staff, and jog out sadly. We tend to just run laps through the hallways. We once tried to do a full lap around the Death Star. Terrible idea. Most people fell out, Stormtroopers laughed at us, and we puked everywhere. Oh, and because of that, now we have to wear reflective hologram belts that make sure people can see us. It’s embarrassing.

After PT we have first formation, where we are liable to receive an inspection from the senior officers who seem to have little to nothing to do. Colonel Veers (you remember, the guy who gave me crap at school for pointing out that AT-AT’s are too unstable for jungle terrain?) stopped in to hump the Grand Moff’s leg a little, trying to pick up a star. Pretty sad to see those guys who get stuck as instructors trying to get back into the line. Our Chief of Staff, General Molock, occasionally comes by to do a little professional development, aka, pointing out why the Navy is wrong about everything all the time, or gigging us if our code cylinders are askew.

Following first formation, I report to my work station, where some major usually has a project for me to work on. Last week it was a white paper examining the metrics from the last time the 501st Legion went to the range. I don’t understand why these guys can’t shoot, dad, they’re Lord Vader’s elite Stormtroopers. I’m thinking there’s a problem with the blasters, but when I mentioned that to my Officer in Charge (OIC), he just told me that his PowerPoint holograms for the Battle Update Brief weren’t going to write themselves. I hate field grades, dad, I really do.

We have our staff huddle in the morning as well, where I sit in the back and try not not catch the lieutenant colonel’s eye. He usually dishes out his taskers to us then. Because it’s a joint staff, we answer to a Fleet captain, and he does not like us at all. Keeps talking about the irrelevance of land power in a post-Death Star world. Luckily, Captain Piett thinks he’s kind of a jerk and shuts him up during briefings when he comes around, usually with a pithy one-liner about tooth-to-tail ratios. Guess you had to be there.

I get lunch at the cantina, dodging Stormtrooper Corps officers, who are about as stuck up as you can get. We get it, you’re “shock troops.” You’re still stuck on this big-ass ship, not a lot you’re needed for here. The food’s decent, I guess.

In the afternoons I work on different plans for either Army personnel (not a lot of us on this thing, mainly Navy and Starfighter officers) or joint operations. Since it’s an all-volunteer force now, we tend to be shorthanded, which leaves me writing most of the stuff myself. I spend a lot of time trying to work with our admin and logistics staff. They are the WORST about getting me their annexes to Imperial orders on time. And then when I get them, they’re never formatted correctly. It’s like they’ve never even READ Imperial Publication 6-0. And who wants to read ten pages about the reactor core’s fuel, anyways? Or the protocol for hologram messages? Our intelligence guys go crazy over that stuff; guess there’s not that much for them to do on this thing.

Every once in a while I get to sit in on the big briefings to Grand Moff Tarkin or Lord Vader. I feel like those guys are so out of touch with what’s happening on the ground these days. They keep talking about “becoming the supreme power in the universe” and I’m like, “Yeah, but what about regional security so that we can get some jobs back home?” And Vader gives me the creeps. You can never tell where he is looking, so you don’t dare fall asleep or even move around too much. Half the time, General Tagge is quibbling with Admiral Motti about the role of the Death Star in Joint doctrine. Apparently, Tarkin believes it needs to be the core of our doctrine, and Motti has bought that hook, line, and sinker. General Tagge is a good dude, and he’s not convinced.

I guess that’s really about it. It’s not glamorous at all, but I think I’m doing some good here. Being at the operational center of the Imperial Army is pretty cool, I’m picking up on a lot of stuff quickly. Hopefully I can finish this assignment quickly and get out to the line, though. I joined up to lead troops, not write opinion papers on whether non-humans can serve in the Stormtrooper Corps (incidentally, they totally can, but the higher ups don’t want to hear it).

I suppose I’ll wrap this up right now, I’m not supposed to be using my work console for personal matters. Plus I’ve got this threat assessment about the physical security of the Death Star to write up for General Bast. It’s pretty silly, but I’m grasping at straws here – I’ve got some comments about the thermal exhaust ports that might get me off this damn thing and into the line.

Okay, gotta go, Lieutenant Treidum radioed that TK421 isn’t at his post, so now I’ve got to write up a report. Damn Stormturds, all battle armor and no brain.

Staff duty blows.

Love,

Lieutenant [REDACTED]

Imperial Army