Sound positive, he told himself. Seem happy. Wasn't he? Being a fighter pilot was dangerous, wasn't it? Now he wouldn't have to live with the risk of being blasted out of the sky by... rebels, or anti-air cannons. He wouldn't have to deal with the posturing and politics of the hierarchy aboard fleet flagships, which were cutthroat according to academy gossip.
He'd still be flying his own ship. Wasn't that enough?
Bracing himself and pulling a deep breath in, Bodhi put in the coordinates and watched the holoprojector flicker to life as the comm went through. He must have caught her at work – when his mother looked up, she was wearing her lenses, but her smile was as pleased as always.
"Bodhi! It's so good of you to call. How are your classes?"
"That's the thing, actually. I passed! I'm, ah... Ensign Bodhi Rook, now. Cargo pilot of the Empire." When her brow furrowed, he added hastily, "I know I said I was going to be a fighter pilot, but my grades weren't high enough and... I don't mind, really! I like flying the shuttles, and the pay is good, I'll send some back, I promise –"
"Slow down, Bodhi," she interrupted, chuckling. "You don't have to convince me. Just tell me, are you happy?"
"I – I am. It's a great opportunity." It was. Any minute now, it would sink in, and he'd be proud instead of shaken and nervous and plagued with the feeling that he wasn't supposed to be here.
"Then that's all that matters."