Title: TK-6013: A Tatooine Story
Author: It Is Your Destiny
Genre: Drama / Adventure / Angst
Characters: TK-6013, TK-5951 (OCs)
Timeline: ANH-?
Summary: How does TK-6013, a low-ranking stormtrooper, end up aboard the Tantive IV on such a fateful day?
Disclaimer: SW is not mine. I'm just playing with the sand.
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
STAR WARS
TK-6013: A Tatooine Story
Entry 1
Being referred to as an alphanumeric code was a thrilling honor for most stormtroopers, especially the first time. However, realistically, these operating numbers had been stripping men and women of their individuality for years now. A young man with the Imperial code name TK-6013 knew this to be true. He felt no thrilling honor, for he was a nobody, and he would be the first to describe himself as such.
His opinion, a rarity among troopers, caused quite a great deal of damage to his self-confidence. He imagined himself as insignificant, unworthy of belonging to a group. Truly, his real name was irrelevant; a simple reference that he would share with no one except superior personnel. All others would know him as TK-6013, and nothing more. He was content with his decision.
The Galactic Empire kept many secrets from its underlings, namely low-ranking stormtroopers. Heck, even three-lettered officers knew very little. TK-6013 was the lowest of the low, and not just according to his own opinion. It was indicated plainly by his number. He had convinced himself that he would never achieve a high rank. And so, due to these facts, he was usually stationed on some remote outworld, carrying out pathetically pointless tasks.
Strangely, today was different. There was no explanation for his current assignment. All he could do was remind himself, undeniably, that he was the lowest of the low. So, how did TK-6013 end up boarding the Tantive IV on such a fateful day?
He had stopped pondering the question while aboard the Star Destroyer Devastator, and accepted his new purpose. Now, of course, he was still baffled beyond belief, but he had a job to do. Transfers happened all the time among the Imperial ranks. Even bizarre, inexplicable transfers. With the right paperwork, certain individuals could make anomalies occur. Regardless, TK-6013 serving alongside Vader's Fist didn't add up, in any conceivable way. Yes, Vader's Fist, the Dark Lord's personal legion of stormtroopers.
Well, he had boarded the Rebel corvette, as ordered. Thrown into a group of individuals he didn't know, more nameless troopers, he crouched in the CR90's pristine hallway. Pristine, as in impeccably cleansed, but not devoid of conflict. Positioned next to the blown away air lock on the port side, he brought his E-11 blaster rifle to the ready position. There was no need to fire. Dozens of stormtroopers, most of them members of Vader's personal legion, had boarded the vessel ahead of TK-6013. They had progressed far down the corridor, advancing upon the Rebels.
Now, smoke filled the air. Both Rebels and stormtroopers were strewn along the reflective floor, defeated. There were no enemies to shoot at. And as if on cue, an Imperial officer crossed the air lock threshold and stood next to TK-6013. He hastily ordered the group to split up at the main junction ahead.
The first six turned left and headed in the direction of the cockpit module. 'Typical,' TK-6013 thought. 'Even here, I'm swept to the outworlds.' He followed the closest trooper, TK-5951, down the aft hall. Four others were behind them. Compared to the dank innards of the Devastator, this consular ship was extremely bright. The hallway was mostly white and led to a wall painted with thin, red lines.
Heading left or right would lead to a cluster of engine rooms, so TK-5951 turned around and backtracked to the main junction. 'Why didn't he check out the engine rooms?' TK-6013 questioned to himself. 'Surely some Rebels were hiding there.' Perhaps, craving action, his fellow trooper simply headed for sounds of the firefight. Heavy laserfire could be heard from the forward end of the craft.
Whatever the reason, TK-6013 followed his squad leader compliantly. The group of six crossed the junction and the main hallway widened significantly. Blast holes marred the walls. They moved swiftly, navigating around fallen troopers from both factions. After passing a few more junctions, they came to another wall and took the port hallway.
The tight corridor quickly led to another adjacent hall, far more spacious. They took a right and headed for a small dining area up ahead. Blasterfire could still be heard from the main corridor that led to the cockpit. 'That's where the action is.' TK-6013's state of pensiveness ended when his superior waved him onward. An all-too-familiar modulated voice, which also robbed stormtroopers of individualism, commanded him to enter the nearby dining room.
'No Rebels would hide in there,' he mused. 'They're not hosting state dinners. They're looking for escape pods.' Of course he'd never share his musings. 'Besides, this is the only exit. They'd be trapped.' Despite his rational thoughts, TK-6013 obeyed.
The door whooshed open and he performed an impressive commando roll into the dining area. 'Why isn't TK-5951 ordering us back to the main hallway?' Obviously, his mind was elsewhere. Flanking the rhombus-shaped room's only aperture, TK-6013 and his squad leader looked at each other. Crouching, they slowly progressed towards the center of the room while the other four brought up the rear.
TK-5951 stopped and waved his squadmate onward once again. 'Why doesn't he finish the sweep?' TK-6013 wondered. Unseen, a smirk of annoyance formed beneath his helmet. Again, he obeyed without protest.
Completing the sweep proved simple. TK-6013 checked one more row of tables while his five companions watched. Then, he looked behind the serving counter. 'No Rebels. Big surprise.' He returned to the room's center.
"Report," TK-5951 said as his underling walked up to the group. Another undetectable smirk formed across TK-6013's face.
'Is he kidding me?' TK-6013 couldn't believe this guy. 'He just saw me sweep the room.' Heavy laserfire could still be heard from elsewhere aboard the Tantive IV. Irritated by his squad leader, he let out a sigh of resignation and answered. "Dining area secure." He felt silly saying it, but had no other option. 'Oh well,' he thought, reminding himself that he was nobody.
"Well done." TK-5951 came out of his crouch and the other four followed suit. He placed his gloved hand on TK-6013's shoulder pad.
'By the stars, this guy goes through all the motions, doesn't he?' TK-6013 wanted to speak his mind. 'Can we get out of this blasted dining area and join the others?!' Impatient, he thought about the exclamatory inquiry, but dared not say it. 'I have no guts.' He never disappointed his superiors because he never took risks. Never.
Surprisingly, TK-5951 chose that moment to stop wasting time. "Let's move out." He headed for the door.
'Thank goodness.' TK-6013 followed immediately, but his squad leader was marching slowly rather than sprinting. So, instead of rushing out the door, he slowed his pace in order to remain behind TK-5951. 'I don't believe this.' He was seething with frustration.
The slow march allowed TK-6013 one more look at the tables, and something caught his attention. There, on the third table of the middle row, he spied an unusual data card. Oval-shaped, it appeared to gleam in the unique lighting of the dining area.
'How did we miss that?' he pondered while looking around. 'Is nobody else seeing it?' TK-6013 felt an irresistible urge to snatch the item. The temptation was quite unexpected.
Then, as the cosmos would have it, certain circumstances were suddenly transformed. In that singular, unprecedented instant, he became bold. One fluid motion was all it took. He grabbed the data card, placed it in his utility belt's pouch, and continued marching. The four squadmates trailing TK-6013 seemed to take no notice of the swipe. If they had noticed, he surmised, they simply didn't care.
Finally, all six stormtroopers exited the dining area. They took a quick left, accelerated their pace, and sprinted toward the corvette's main corridor. 'That's more like it.' TK-6013 felt as if they'd been in that room forever.
The noise from an intense skirmish reverberated throughout the ship. Obviously, the firefight had moved closer to the cockpit module. Now, thanks to TK-5951's self-serving, overdone demonstration of Imperial procedure, they would have to catch up.
~to be continued
