Zevulon Veers was born to a life of power and prestige, but he sacrificed it all for what he believed in. Eldest born child of General Maximilian Veers, his mother died of a rare disease while on holiday. That summer was the last truly happy one he can remember of his childhood. Father was an up and corning Imperial officer with a good career ahead of him, but there was something nagging at young Zev’s conscience. As he grew older, he grew increasingly distant from his father and missed the warmth of his mother’s smile, although he went to the finest schools and wanted for nothing. Except answers to questions that dogged him. Like why his tutors, who were obviously more intelligent than him in many ways, were slaves. Or why his father spoke endlessly of the “glory of power,” yet never seemed to mention that the military’s job was to serve and protect the citizens of the Empire. Or why friends of his father who spoke their minds on Imperial policy kept on disappearing. These led to other questions. Ones no one would give him an honest answer to. Whether his father couldn’t or wouldn’t answer these questions, they stayed with young Zev. It seemed that so much of what the Empire stood for was a lie. His father talked of glory and courage, but how much courage did it take to bomb planets from orbit? Or to enslave aliens? When Zev had to join the local Sub-Adult Group (SAGroup) battalion, he was reluctant. Wegsphere was enjoyable enough, but he didn’t get along with the other kids very well. He liked the idea of working to improve society, but somehow marching in formation and climbing mountains while singing pro-New Order anthems didn’t seem to be what he was looking for. He managed to make it through the adolescent period without any big mistakes, but things changed when his father took him aside to discuss how the bad marks from the Political Reliability Observer might hurt the general’s career. That really bothered him, the way his questions and apparently innocuous remarks about the slave camp field trip were betraying his father. Zev would keep his ideas to himself from then on. He made it for his first few years after that with no repeats of his earlier mistakes. That didn’t mean that he accepted the party line whole. His teachers had taught Zev too well. Courses in philosophy and logic only made the case against the New Order stronger. Media reports and propaganda broadcasts could only hide so much and Zev didn’t like what he could read between the lines. Junior officer training came and went, but not soon enough for Zev. His father was a hard man, and wanted his son to grow up that way too. Zev hoped his assignment would turn out be an army post. He knew better. His father wouldn’t hear of his son taking a non-combat position. First, he had to survive his CompForce hitch. “CompFarce” was more like it. They weren’t much better than teens carrying loaded weapons. He was getting tired of saluting, sprog-stepping and singing hymns to the New Order. It was here that Zev reached his breaking point. It was only a few short weeks after the Battle of Hoth and his father was the Empire’s newest military hero. He had just returned from a short leave with his father, and Zev had been treated like a hero as well. By the side of his father, he went to endless celebrations and heard countless speeches about the glory of the Empire and how the Alliance was immoral and doomed to defeat. After Zev returned from the glamour and ceremony, he learned what the Empire really stood for. During a routine police action, Zev was assigned to bodyguard the battalion commander while he interrogated prisoners. Intending to harden the young man to the sight of torture, the commander, Ivo Laibach, showed off his ISB training. Zev was horrified as the Rebel, an old man, was beaten mercilessly and tortured. Even the other two “CompFarcers,” boys younger than he, started turning green. Luckily for Zev, while the commander manhandled the local librarian, the real Rebels showed up. Laibach, idiot that he was, went outside “to take care of the nonsense” and got wounded by the Rebels for his trouble. It would be funny if it weren’t all so horrible. Zev came to a decision: he couldn’t just let the old man die. So he untied the librarian and used a medpac on him — just as the librarian’s daughter, the Rebel squad leader, came to his rescue. Initially she was distrustful of Zev, but she was won over by her father’s testimony. Zev was still taken prisoner, but not treated much like one. That was a few short months before the Battle of Endor, where the Empire faced defeat. In the six years since, Zev has become a full- fledged Rebel. He is now doing what he wants. He still hopes that someday his family will reject the Empire and that his father will understand, but he hasn’t seen or heard from his father since he deserted the Empire. When he occasionally is mistaken by some for Zev Senesca, a Rebel pilot who gave his life for the Rebellion, Veers is nonplussed — “I only hope I can be worthy of the comparison someday.”