Stay With Me [L. Skywalker] (REMASTER)

One

The corridors of the Death Star II were cold and desolate as per usual this time of day. Four Imperial stormtroopers walked in formation on their patrol route. The squad held their blasters at ease, walking with their strides in perfect sync. They were nearing the end of their route and were headed to their barracks.

TK-525 watched the dark gray panels on the walls of the corridor give way to panels of light every few yards or so; It was the same sight every day for her and she'd grown into the habit of zoning out, having known the route like the back of her armored hand. These halls and the rhythmic sounds coming from her armor moving as she walked had a hypnotic effect. She almost didn't notice one of her superiors approaching right in front of the team, just a few feet from their barracks. "TK-525, a word, please," he spoke.

The patrol came to an abrupt halt and she stepped forward. "Yes sir," she replied.

"I have been keeping an eye on your performance in the field, and I've been thoroughly pleased with your improvements. Your ability to take initiative is admirable."

"Thank you, sir."

"Given your recent performance last month during the Cloud City occupation, we have decided to promote you to commander. Additionally, I'd like to onboard your team to the special operations task force," he said. "Keep this up and you will be headed for further promotions. The Empire is lucky to have you."

She saluted and the general walked away. The trooper squad walked the few extra feet into their barracks, where they could finally remove their helmets. TK-525 took a breath of fresh air and shook out her short, white hair. TK-525, more commonly called "Egret" by her peers when they were feeling nice, was a young woman of shorter stature. She had sharp facial features with fair skin and gray eyes. She had been serving the Galactic Empire for as long as she could remember; so long that she knew herself only by her callsign and nicknames, much like most of her comrades. Nicknames were a common practice among troopers. An effort to regain individuality in a regiment where many were stripped of their birth names. Those who enlisted later in life were fortunate enough to know their names.

"I hate these damn things," Iago- one of those fortunate ones- grumbled, tossing his helmet aside and ruffling his black hair.

"Tell me about it," Eighty-Six agreed, "I can hardly see with it on."

"Egret's got it worse I bet," Griff commented, "Yet she still manages to bullseye terrorists on the regular."

"Yeah, Private- Sorry, Commander Shorty," Eighty-Six cooed sarcastically, using one of Egret's more unsavory nicknames. "What's the secret?"

"I paid attention in training," the woman shot back with a smug smirk.

"Kids, be nice," Iago said. "We're Spec Ops now, let's act like it."

Griff exhaled with a smile, falling backwards onto his bunk. "About damn time, I could use more of a challenge. Taking out small terrorist outposts was getting boring. It's just too easy."

"Yeah, right," Egret scoffed, "Maybe for you and Eighty-Six. Iago and I pull the weight around here."

"And yet I'm not the one getting a promotion," Iago muttered, rolling his eyes.

Egret gave him a quick glare. "I was born into the Empire, you enlisted. I have tenure."

Iago returned the sneer. "Taken from your family as a kid isn't what I'd call being 'born into the Empire'."

"Iago, for the last time- they didn't kidnap us," Griff spat, "We were chosen from specialized Imperial youth programs."

"Really? Do you remember anything about these programs or is that just what they tell you?" Iago questioned.