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I wrote this on a whim, see what you think:
They tell us that it’s an honour to die for the Republic. I’ve watched many of my brothers fall in the heat of battle. I’ve seen their limbs severed from their bodies and cries of pain being torn from their lips. Where is the honour in dying in such a manner?
They tell us that we should be proud of our achievements. That we are doing well to beat the ongoing waves of Battle Droids, from an enemy we don’t understand or know why we’re fighting. We’re not supposed to think, feel or show ourselves as individuals. We’re supposed to be placid and pliable. But that was before we were introduced to real war.
I’ve seen many of my brother’s die needlessly. I wonder what our real purpose is behind all this. But there will be no answers for us, for we are merely clone troopers.
Like all of my brothers I have a name that is of code, but I consider my nickname as my true name. They call me Rain. I got this name because I sure know how to bring down a rain of firepower. Perhaps that’s what has kept me alive for so long.
I know the war is coming to an end, there’s something in the air I cannot describe. It’s almost like the calm before the storm.
Perhaps it’s my association with the native people that has brought on this bout of criticism, but they have taught me much. A trooper really is like a child when we enter this world as a soldier. Even now I am ignorant of so many things a natural being knows.
Don’t get me wrong, I do not detest the way I was brought into the world. However I believe it unfair to be treated merely as drones to be slaughtered. Sometimes I see the way those who are not clones see us. They believe we are as sterile as the battle droids that we fight. But we are flesh and blood. We feel although we’ve had some of our senses dulled down for our own benefit – once again I find myself sceptical of this. I still feel fear, shock and terror.
I feel sorrow when my brothers die. I feel loyalty to a cause that I know nothing about. But as I learn more I am less inclined to feel that loyalty. I would escape this shamble if I knew how, but the galaxy is a bad place for a clone and we have got a higher chance of survival in battle than we do in the real world.
Sometimes I ponder the future. If this war ends, what becomes of us? We were bred for battle and we have a short life expectancy. Do they expect us to expire at the end of the war? Will they cull us or will they use us as a display of strength if we win?
I do not wish to contemplate what shall happen if we lose. I know death lies down that path. Although I am not afraid of death, I am afraid of the pain. I hope that things do not turn to the worst, but I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen.
Some of my brothers think I analyse things too much. I think they are too afraid to do so in my stead. I have heard the saying “Ignorance is bliss†I am now starting to understand this concept.
Time grows short as does our appointment for the next battle we’re scheduled for. Tonight I dream of a different place, tonight I dream of hope and the end of a bitter war.
