Journal of the 501st Narration: Part 3

Transcript

Once it was finally finished, the Death Star was the Emperor's favorite toy. It was also the most boring assignment in the galaxy for a stormtrooper. Tedious inspection drills, endless hours of guarding impregnable force field generators.

Things got so bad that when a prison break erupted in the cell block, we were almost happy to have someone shooting at us again. If only we had known what an embarrassing snipe storm we were about to wade into, we probably would have jettisoned the whole detention block into space. After the embarrassment of the prison break, Lord Vader removed us from our comfortable play and began dragging the 501st across the galaxy in a dangerous hunt for the now-missing Death Star plans.

Ironically, our punishment eventually proved to be our salvation. The poor souls who took place in the detention area were completely wiped out when the Death Star was destroyed. By the time of the raid on Polis Massa, the men of the 501st were starting to get a little sick of this so-called rebellion.

In the past, we'd secretly enjoyed putting down a local insurrection or two. They kept the troops sharp and the Empire feared, but these rebels were different. They were organized, they were growing, and they were everywhere.

The raid on Polis Massa was a perfect example of how things were starting to fall apart. We were supposed to go in, wipe out a small band of rebels, and recover some stolen Imperial plans on an encrypted holodisk. Before we knew it, we were nearly overrun by rebel forces with the holodisk nowhere to be found.

Even though the Polis Massa raid was only a partial success, we finally had a lead on the whereabouts of the Death Star plans, which suited the 501st just fine. With the information gathered on Polis Massa, Vader concluded that the stolen plans had been given to Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. We weren't surprised.

For all their talk of being a peaceful planet, Alderaan had been thumbing its nose at the Empire for years. After a brief and pointless battle, we boarded the ship, the Tantive IV, over Tatooine, began looking for the plans, and waited for Lord Vader's arrival. After Lord Vader took custody of Princess Leia, we all figured it was just a matter of time before she coughed up the plans.

Many of us had been unwilling witness to Vader's powers of persuasion in the past. The thought of a pampered little princess resisting his terrible will was inconceivable. By the time we landed on Yavin, whatever shock we had felt at the destruction of the Death Star had been replaced by anger.

For months we had treated the Rebellion like a disobedient child, only to be repaid for our tolerance with treachery on an unimaginable scale. Frankly, I don't remember much of the fighting. I guess we won.

After the battle, the surviving members of the 501st finally caught their breath. The Empire had taken the Rebel's best shot and come up standing. Now it was our turn to strike.

No one ever complained about the cold on Hoth. We never felt it. Even though we were blinded by blizzards, we could see the final end of the Rebellion in our blaster sights.

Was it only a mirage? Perhaps. But on that day, on that planet, our blood ran hot with dreams of victory, melting the ice that stood in our way.

As the Rebels fled, the 501st gathered around a burning bunker and let out a cheer that shook the stars. The Rebellion was done. The Death Star was being rebuilt, bigger than ever.

Order had finally returned to the galaxy, in no small part due to the efforts of the fighting men of the 501st.