Not So Bad
The battle was fierce, men on all sides fought and died. But it didn't matter; what mattered was whether he would be one of those dropping. He raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired off three rounds. He saw two enemies fall to the ground. He dropped and rolled into a foxhole.
Suddenly artillery burst all around him. Several of his brothers died in the blast. He stuck his head out just long enough to fire off a round and cause an enemy to drop. This was the Clone Wars and this was hell. He stood and fired another shot. He watched another droid soldier fall. He dove into a trench and ran along it, several droids ran along the same trench. They turned the corner just in front of HE-04, he fell backwards and fired three shots into the first one and two more shots into the second. This war had to end or else the only people alive would be those who didn't live in this galaxy and the politicians who where too fat to stand up and fight.
HE-04 ran along the trench blasting droids down as he went. And those where the fat politicians who didn't care if the war continued, They would sit in their office and read the reports of some of the latest battles, adding to the total death toll of clones. After all who cared about clones. To the politicians they where just another piece of equipment. No feelings of Hope or loss or pain. They didn't bleed real blood; they bled the blood of genetically copied chromosomes. They didn't matter. Luckily HE-04 wasn't standing in front of a politician or he might have shot him like he just shot that droid.
He ran through the trench. Suddenly the whole world was silent and bright, and upside down with the ground falling very fast towards HE-04's head. He smashed against the ground; even without his hearing he could hear the crunch in his bones. And could feel it as well. He lay there trying to get up. The droids where coming and to be laying alive on a battlefield with merciless droids coming wasn't the best place to be. His body just wouldn't respond. His whole body felt like a ton of bricks had landed on him.
Suddenly two of his millions of brothers grabbed him by the arms and began dragging him back to the nearest foxhole. Had he survived an Artillery strike? Ha take that you Politician Pigs. You can't count me among the dead. He couldn't move, he couldn't feel anything except the immense pain building up in his body. It felt like he had been fired out of that Artillery cannon and had hit the ground and exploded, which probably would've been less damaging. And that was the point of weapons anyway wasn't it? Maybe the Republic should've used droids. Or maybe they should've just sent their precious Jedi. Those Jedi who said they cared about all life and then sent thousands of clones to their death without pity. Jedi! Ha, what a lie.
HE-04 recognized one of the clones that had saved him. It was HD-98/55, he tried to speak but instead he just felt his jaw move in a way it wasn't meant to. His blasted ears still weren't working. Suddenly the clone to his right fell back with great force. HE-04 guessed that he had been shot but wasn't sure.
Suddenly there was a flash of blue light, then another flash of green light, two Jedi had appeared. Great now all he needed was a fat politician and a blaster and he could exact revenge. If he could feel his throat he would've probably laughed. The Human female Jedi stood over him; he could feel her words more then hear them. It's all right HE-04; I'm going to get you out of here. My names Shalamar, what's your nickname. Was she talking to him? She treated him like a human being. He tried to say He-Man with his mind but it didn't work. All right He-Man I'll get you to safety as soon as the tank arrives. Tank! She had called a tank just to save one clone trooper. Perhaps the Jedi weren't as bad as he thought. The Jedi leaned over to his fallen comrade and checked for a pulse, obviously finding none cause she shook her head and cursed.
A huge flash of blue light passed overhead and He-Man saw an AT-TE standing over the Foxhole. It's cannons where blazing. Perhaps this Jedi had a plan. Three brothers jumped out of the tank and HD-98/55 began to pick him up. Shalamar jumped up onto the edge of the foxhole. Right into the line of fire and dragged He-Man up onto the ground above. Then she and the other clones carried him over to the entrance point of the tank and lifted him in.
The other Jedi much younger and much less experienced got into the tank right before the door closed. He could feel the older Jedi healing his wounds as the tank walked backwards towards the base. His breaths came harder and harder. He began to gasp. Shalamar jumped out of her seat and sat by his side. He could feel something happening inside his chest. Suddenly the darkness surrounded him. He could feel the Jedi Apologizing, Shalamar started to weep over him. She took his helmet off and kissed his forehead. I'm so sorry she said into his mind. At first he didn't understand, his brothers where all looking at the Jedi. Then it hit him like a bullet. He was about to die. So maybe someone cared. Maybe someone considered his life worth more than bantha fodder. Maybe he was really worth something. Maybe this was how death felt. What would his brothers think after he died. Well they'd morn mentally but not physically. They would fight on. And they would end up the same way as HE-04 had. The Jedi brought soothing thoughts into his mind as he slowly drifted off into the darkness ahead. Maybe the Jedi weren't so bad after all. He drifted off to sleep. Then it was over.