AN: This is for Secret7 who actually took the time to review "A Life Well Fought" and respond to the plea for story ideas. Sorry to get this out so late. It's been months since that.
I'm still looking for a beta reader, if anyone wants to take me up on that. Until I get someone willing to say "this sucks" you'll have to suffer through unedited whatever come out.
Disclaimer: George owns it all and has for longer than I've been alive. Hence, I borrow and beg, but please don't sue me for stealing.
Live A Day
Vader's hands are busy crushing the life out of the Captain's throat. That's good. Well, maybe not for the Rebel pilot, but it means that I have fewer reasons to worry about my own windpipe's structural integrity. Then again, there are all the stories of people choking for no apparent reason around the Dark Lord. Maybe if I do this quickly, he'll let me live, but I'm not placing any bets and my will is updated just in case. Mary, kiss Joshua for me if I don't survive this.
My operating number is TK-598. You don't need to know my name. Certainly the three 40 some-odd cycle clone has-beens in my unit never bothered to learn it, but then again, those guys didn't even come up with names for themselves. Personally, I call them Snooze, Snitch and Snack for their three favorite activities. The other two guys in the unit are real people and actually have lives like me. Wesley is the tactical guy. I swear, give him a wheelbarrow and a Jedi robe and he can storm a castle. Grant specializes in hardware. Just don't light anything around him or we all go sky high. Me, I'm the computer nut. Welcome to unit Aubrek fifteen of the fighting 501st.
Of course, I had to be the one who found out. It couldn't have been one of the clones to discover the truth. Sure if the plans were there they'd have found them, but the absence of the plans was a bit much for their brains to handle. Oh, for an ARC at a time like this. Anyway, of course I'm the one they come to when they check, double check and still don't fine what they're looking for. I don't have to tell you, but this ain't good. I may not know who's who on the upper levels, but I can recognize diplomatic markings and if whoever's on this ship doesn't have what we're looking for, we're toast. All right, calm down, man. It's not like you're going to tell the Emperor's watchdog that you don't have what he wants. Wait, that's exactly what I'm here to say. I'm dead.
Well here goes nothing. I walk boldly up to the Dark Lord and deliver my report- "The Death Star plans are not in the main computer." – before scurrying away as fast as I can. Thankfully, it's the Rebel who goes flying across the room, and not me. I tell you, it ain't worth all the aggravation just to live a day.