The following journal entries are those of Stormtrooper TK-726, a struggling, low-level attorney stationed on the first Death Star. They largely depict his trials and tribulations as a last-resort Imperial attorney. Found floating in space by a band of smugglers, Mos Eisley Radio acquired the journals and has set to work on translating and documenting the content. Though his fate is still shrouded in mystery, at this point, one thing is strikingly unclear: Who knows why TK-726 even bothered to record his these things?
JOURNAL ENTRY 11.82.11
Up until yesterday, it had been a pretty boring week. The kind of week where you wonder if starting your own practice had been a good idea at all. It’s times like this when ridiculous stuff starts happening, as though the laws of averages just can’t bear to see you bored. Enter my latest client, TK-9724.
This clown was eating in the cafeteria on level 17, sector 5, and decided to order the biggest bowl of soup they offered. That day the soup was Tatooine Bean (which is sort of grainy and leaves a completely inexplicable dry aftertaste in your mouth that won’t leave for days). Why anyone would order this is beyond me, but there you have TK-9724 walking around with an enormous bowl of the barely edible slop, just ready to chow down. Sure enough, he steps on a mouse droid the second he’s done paying for it.
So he doesn’t just spill it, because that would be too easy. He chucks it about three feet in the air and tries to catch it with… his body. I’m sure he thought he could go pro in huttball or something, but catching a bowl of soup in your body is dumb. You know that little gap where a trooper’s chest armor meets his abdominal plate? Yeah. Scalding hot soup got in there.
Here’s where you ask, “Wait a second. Doesn’t he wear a thermal suit underneath?” Of course he does, but this is where the real genius of this guy begins. He cut it out in that section.
“Why the hell did you cut out your thermal layer there?” I asked.
“To keep me cool in the summer.”
Ok. I have no idea where this moron was stationed before here, but it could be nuclear freaking winter outside and it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference here on the Death Star. It took me a good minute to formulate my next thought, which was, of course, that this guy had to pay me up front for whatever he wanted.
Now I wish I had a lot more time with this guy because no matter how hard it is to make it as an attorney on Tarkin’s toy, your life is surely too short to miss opportunites to gather stories from idiots like this. Unfortunately, what he said next was a complete deal killer. I don’t mind suing the Empire for worker’s comp. I don’t mind if you include a couple Imperial officers while you’re at it to let them know you’re serious. But guess who this guy wanted to include in the suit.
Wrong answer. Nice knowing you, thanks for stopping by, be sure to have your chromosomes counted on the way out because I’m pretty sure you’re missing more than a few. This guy could have paid me in lightsaber-grade crystals and I wouldn’t do it. So, I wish him well, and out he goes. Sure enough, I read about him in today’s paper. He got some fresh-out-of-law-school lawyer who must have had his helmet too tight to go ahead and file it and guess what happened when they called the big guy up to let him know?
Yep. Vader choked them out over the holocall. Bang. Dead. Both of them.
Man. I know I didn’t do well at Imperial Law in law school, but I remembered the cardinal rule. Unbelievable. Oh well. Slow week, but I wouldn’t have missed this one for anything. Maybe next week’s idiot will actually pay me before he goes and corpses himself.