This poem was written for the sole purpose of entertainment. No copyright infringement or harm is intended. The characters you know are owned by George Lucas, all others are property of the Author.


Numbers

C'mon, Antilles. Just write the report.
You'll have to get it done,
Better sooner rather than later.
Should submit it promptly, of course.
The report is the easy part,
Isn't it?
After that, you'll have to...

Just a few more details, numbers,
Then it's done, ready to file.
Just another report.
One of thousands.
Same old report.
Same old numbers.
Completed it a hundred times.
Never get used to it, though, do you?
Why should you?
Never should.
What would that say about you?
What would you see in the mirror?

How many fighters?
Fourteen.
How many capital ships?
Two.
Numbers, we're all numbers to them.
What, are you trying to depress yourself?
Hmm...hard to do something that
Is already done...

Droids?
Seven.
Other seven are salvageable?
That's something at least.
Pilots?
Just details, numbers...
Hard to accept. Hard to believe.
You're procrastinating again.
Pilots?
Eight.

Okay, done.
Fill in the missing details when I get them.
Brass have to have their gory details.
Details, lives, numbers...
Now the other thing.
How many of these have I written?
Numbers, words...
Nothing comes easy.
Never should.

"I regret to inform you..."