by 
Imperial trooper SEN 5241 has just had the horrifying lurch of realisation those were the droids he was looking for.
Sitting bolt upright in bed with a cry, SEN woke in the middle of the night cycle after his subconscious decided to break the news to him at 3am because the subconscious is spiteful like that.
With his annual performance review only days away, SEN had been hopeful that his unblemished service record might put him in line for promotion, or even officer training at the academy.
“I feel sick,” he told his wife, who woke when he did.
“I mean, I don’t know what came over me. How could I miss that? The description was clearly ‘walking dustbin and tall, gold one as camp as a row of tents’.
“That miserable old bastard must have pulled some sort of mind trick on me.
“I’m for the high jump when the sarge finds out. Or the terrifying plummet down a bottomless shaft into the reactor core.”
When asked about his performance review, all he would say was that he’s got a bad feeling about it.
Attempting to comfort her distraught husband, SEN’s wife waved her hand and told him everything was going to be okay.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he said.
“And I’ll do the washing up,” he added.
