The polished white dome peeked out from around the corridor. Silently searching the surrounding area for any other officers, he cautiously scouted the break room. With an almost uncanny dexterity, the helmeted man dove from his position behind the wall over to a bench not three feet, performing a very unnecessary roll. Peeking over the bench, he saw nothing. Nothing but the fridge, sink, and microwave. With a quiet cheer and a small fist pump, he jumped up and went over to the nearby door. Walking with a mix of a swagger and some kind of half-dancing, he spun around and opened the door to reveal three other men dressed in the standard white armor, and one man dressed in standard grey fatigues.

"Welcome, friends, to the party den!" The leader of the idiots cried as he removed his helmet with a bit more flourish than necessary.

With an exuberant cry of joy, the other four guards rushed in and made for the fridge to plunder any of their co-workers food that remained from lunch. A scant few sandwiches and salads were found and joy was had by all.

"Richie, man, you are the BOSS for getting us off patrol!" Shouted one of the men whilst liberating one of the wrapped sandwiches.

"I know, I know, man!" Richie gazed over his assembled hoard of party-goers...all four of them, and decided to ask the obvious question, "Yo, Gary, what happened to your armor? Vader decide to switch colors?"

Gary 'TK-421' Jones, was a humorous person to be sure, so long as you weren't near him while he was doing anything pertaining to weapons...or vehicles...or computers. A general nuisance to the higher-ups, he was a still a great bit of fun to be around if you knew how to deal with him.

Gary looked up from the salad he was decidedly grazing on, and with a slight smirk declared, "I lost it!"

Gary was not a clever Stormtrooper.

The other four burst out laughing at their companion's naive response.

"Gary, you are just about the funniest damn nerfherder I've ever know!" A slight pause followed in an effort to regain some oxygen after the bout of laughter, before he continued, "It's a pleasure to share this Rotation Day with you! All of you!" Richie gestured to the other troopers and raised a small flask he had removed from his armor.

The others in kind raised their sandwiches and salads in acknowledgment.

"The Rebel Base Is Now In Range. All Hands Prepare For Deathstar Firing."

"Is there any better Rotation Day present than us wining the war?" Richie asked, taking a swig from his flask of now very, very rare Alderainian Ale.

"Not one that I can think of!" One of the others shouted, his joy igniting the other two troopers...Wait.

It wasn't long before the others noticed the absences of Gary. Richie, having had a great many dealings with Gary in the past, elected to go looking for him. It didn't take long. In fact, he was right outside the break room, staring at a small exhaust panel.

"Yo, Gary, what're ya doing?" Richie asked, caution and apprehension in his voice.

"It looks like something is stuck in the exhaust." As he said this, he removed the panel and was face to face with a small, but armed, proton torpedo. Needless to say, Richie let out the shrillest most masculine scream every heard. This drew the attention of the others. As they gazed on, their minds slowly processed the predicament at hand. They also noticed a hand moving toward the torpedo. An ungloved hand. Whatever miracle had stopped the torpedo from exploding was about to stop working, and they all knew it...well, all but Gary. With their last few moments of life, they all screamed once more for all the galaxy to hear.

"GARY, YOU IDIOT!"

A/N: Rotation Day=New Years for Star Wars Universe

This was very much inspired by both Robot Chicken's Star Wars Specials and that wonderful line "TK-421, why are you not at your post?"

Gotta love that line.