KR-435

The Rebellion has started. A week ago it was all over the HoloNet. The next day, the Emperor sent out a warning to the media, explaining in terms that could not be misunderstood the penalties of subsequent coverage of the incidents. Apparently he doesn't want the galaxy at large to know that his Empire isn't loved by all. I try to ignore these things, but I find myself disagreeing more and more with the Empire's policies of late. Tough luck, considering I work for the Empire. If you could call what I do work. I'm not even allowed to have a name anymore. KR-435. That's my designation.

KR-435. A formless, aure-numeric designation. The very term, 'designation' grates my nerves now. Droids have designations. Not sentient beings. But to the Empire, that's all we are; droids. Less expensive droids, with better programming. The older soldiers all seem to hold that the Empire is the best thing since bottled ale, but they're a bit biased, seeing as the Empire sponsored their very creation. They are clones. TR-980 said they are left over from the Clone Wars, but I've heard through others that these were a different batch. They still used the same base, though; a bounty hunter named Jango Fett.

It gets unnerving sometimes, them all looking alike. But they have been here since the very beginning, since the forming of the Empire. Some say Jedi fell to their blasters during Order 66, but that isn't spoken of since the death of Besh-Dorn-675. He made the mistake of mentioning Order 66 in the presence of Lord Vader. I've never met Lord Vader, and frankly hope I never do. Some say he can sense a person's very thoughts. If he could sense mine, I would be a dead man. For my thoughts of late have been treacherous, treasonous.

After the things I've seen, the things I've done, I'm surprised I can sleep at night. There must be something in our rations. After all, a well-rested army is a productive army. I've seen things done that I do not wish to remember. Things the Emperor himself has personally ordered. The killing of innocent women and children. Their torture beforehand. And for no better reason than that they refused to celebrate Life Day, the Emperor's devised holiday. I can't blame them, I find Life Day pretty ridiculous myself.

The harder I try not to think of these things, to just do my job, the harder it becomes. There are others who feel the same way, I know. Others who, like me, are becoming steadily more disgusted by the lengths our government will go to to cut out the slightest hint of dissension or dissatisfaction. And it uses us to do it. They use us, the stormtroopers, for their dirty work. My last mission was the final straw. We were sent to storm a newly discovered cell of dissidents, to cut out the dissension before it could be spread. When we arrived, the cell consisted of a group of teen-aged humans, the oldest no more than seventeen standard years old.

We had our orders, though, and to disobey orders is to die, or worse. With a Sith Lord as taskmaster, there are worse things than death. Far worse things. I shudder at some of the things I've heard, though they are but rumors. When a slight boy of perhaps fifteen aimed a blaster pistol almost as big as himself at me, I almost didn't raise my E-11. I almost let him fire, let him take my life so I wouldn't have his on my conscience. But I couldn't. I knew that even if I spared him, he would still be killed by one of my squad mates.

Better to finish this mission now and somehow find a way to prevent further missions like it in the future. I vowed then and there that I would do whatever I could to assist the Rebellion, from the inside. While I didn't agree with the Rebellion's ideals completely, they were fighting for freedom, fighting against the Empire. That was enough for me. They would never know that I was helping their cause. I would do so quietly and in subtle ways, as I could. But I would be there, inside the very government I now so despised, sabotaging the Empire wherever I could.

If you are reading this message, I have succeeded in my final mission. I am now most likely dead, but Admiral Hirkul is as well, and the battle plans in this datapad will hopefully prove to be worth my efforts. KR-435 out.

* * * * *

We received this datapad and the message stored in it yesterday. Inside it's programming it contains battle plans for many of the Empire's future attacks. This will prove a valuable asset in our endeavors to bring the Imperial Remnant to it's collective knees.

* * * * *

Today, two days after the aforementioned message, a bedraggled, severely wounded man in what remained of a suit of stormtrooper armor staggered into a nearby local cantina. He told the proprietor his name was Kul Rylnor, and his former designation was KR-435. We took him into protective custody immediately. He is currently being treated for extensive blaster burns and severe dehydration.