The flickering of the damaged lights caused him to stir.

Slowly, the cadet wearily opened his eyes. It looked like he was in a supply room of some sort. He could tell easily from the shelves containing spare bits of machinery. The door hid behind one of the shelves, beckoning to him.

What happened? The cadet thought. Last he checked, he was on his way back to the barracks. So how did he end up in here?

The boy started to sit up, feeling the pain in his back subside. He tried bringing his hands around to his face, only to discover he couldn't. He felt around and noticed his hands were tied behind his back; his feet were similarly tied together. Beginning to panic, the young clone tried calling out, but the gag in his mouth prevented it. And then the pieces clicked.

Those other cadets, the ones he had ratted out. They did this to him.

He remembered now. He overheard some of his fellow cadets' conversations with each other. The group that had left him hog-tied had spoken about how their training wasn't moving quickly enough. The conversation had been so subtle that he thought the other cadets had been joking when they spoke about sneaking into the armories.

They weren't joking. He knew they weren't because he saw them fiddle with the lock. He'd felt naturally obligated to do the right thing, and so, he told the two troopers on security detail what he knew.

Apparently, the perpetrators didn't like that. The poor boy could tell from the hateful looks on their faces, long before they knocked him out with a blow to the head.

Eventually, the boy tried to break free from his bonds again, but the ropes didn't budge. What were they made out of, durasteel? His heart and mind raced as he tried to figure out a way to escape. Even if he managed to cut the ropes, he had a sneaking suspicion the assailants had locked the door to the closet. But nonetheless, the cadet continued to struggle, only stopping when he felt like he would end up dislocating his shoulder.

Minutes passed, and then an hour, and then the poor clone wasn't sure anymore. In all his six years of training on Kamino, he'd never been drilled on how to escape the wrath of his fellow cadets. He squirmed and pulled one more time at his restraints, but they still wouldn't break, no matter how hard he pulled. Discouraged, the young clone leaned his back against the wall, tears threatening to spill from his brown eyes. There was no hope for him. He wouldn't make it out. He was going to die here, alone, forgotten until someone stumbled upon his withered corpse.

Having resigned himself to defeat, the boy squeezed his eyes shut. He was close to falling asleep when he heard a noise.

It sounded like…a lock-pick?

Curiosity and hope filled the young cadet as he lifted his head. The door slid open a split second later. A petite woman stumbled through, her dark hair resting on her shoulders as she grabbed onto a nearby shelf. "Damn locks," she muttered, loud enough for the cadet to hear. It seemed like she didn't know he was in the room with her. The clone shifted from where he sat, and tried fumbling around with the ropes again, this time hoping to get the woman's attention.

He was unaware that he'd knocked something over until he heard the woman clamber back with a yelp.

"Seriously!" she fumed. "Is everything in this room trying to kill me?"

The cadet instinctively tried to back away, for fear of angering the newcomer further. That was when he noticed her emerald eyes trail over to where he lay.

"Hello?" the woman voiced. "Is anyone there?"

"Hey! Help me! I'm trapped," was what the cadet wanted to yell, but because of the gag, all that came out were a few muffled shouts.

The woman's eyes widened as she finally found the source of the noise. Her eyes widened further once she was finished pulling back the shelf that concealed the young clone. "What the hell?" she whispered, more out of shock than anything else. As she set about looking for something to cut him free, the boy's eyes wandered to the object on her belt.

Is that what I think it is? The boy pondered. It is!

A lightsaber. Of all the people who could've noticed the cadet's absence, it had to be a Jedi. He could hardly contain his excitement. The clone had heard story after story of the Jedi's heroics, but he never thought he'd meet one in person.

"I don't know about you," the Jedi muttered as she cut the ropes around his wrists, "but when I find out who did this, I'm tossing them into the ocean."

In a matter of minutes, the crude restraints around his hands and feet were gone. The boy removed the gag as feeling slowly returned to his limbs. "Thanks," he stammered.

"Don't mention it," the woman replied. "So, would you mind explaining how you got into this mess?"

The cadet opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut just as quickly. He couldn't tell her. If he did, chances are those cadets would do worse than leave him tied up in a supply closet. He'd never broken a bone or endured any serious injury before, but he didn't want to take the risk.

"It's all right," the woman reassured him, noticing his concern. "I'm not going to hurt you." Slowly, the Jedi sat down, a tired sigh escaping her lips.

A moment of silence passed before she spoke again. "You got a name, kid?" she asked.

CT-4901. That was the only name he'd ever known. Some jokesters even occasionally called him "No Name" when it became clear that he didn't have one. The boy simply shrugged his shoulders in response, discouraged.

"Oh. That's all right. I'm sorry I asked," the Jedi replied.

"Don't apologize," the clone mumbled, finally finding the courage to speak. "I've grown used to it."

The woman steadily climbed to her feet, lending the cadet a helping hand. "Come on," she suggested. "Let's get you out of here."

As they began the slow walk back to the barracks, the clone spoke up. "So…how long was I cooped up in there?"

"About a couple hours," the Jedi answered wearily. "Just enough time for your friends to grow worried about you."

"Oh, great," the cadet groaned. How was he going to explain this to his brothers? They'd probably dismiss the whole ordeal as some cruel prank. His sergeant probably would berate him for missing his training courses in the afternoon.

"Don't dwell on it too much," the woman optimistically replied. "I'm sure you'll figure something out, Cooper."

Wait, what? What did she call him?

"Cooper?" the cadet repeated, confused by the woman's choice of words.

"I got to call you something, don't I?" she said, noticing the clone's puzzled look.

Cooper. The name was outlandish, really. The boy figured it was the Jedi's way of turning the whole 'locked in the closet' trick into a joke. He didn't feel like laughing, however. He'd been on the receiving end of many pranks during his lifetime. One time, he'd ended up sprinting out of the barracks, convinced there were voices coming from the walls. As it turns out, it was simply his fellow cadet, Blaze, pretending to be a ghost.

After what seemed like ten minutes of pacing around the pristine corridors, the pair finally arrived at the barracks. "Take care of yourself, you hear?" the woman requested as she opened the door.

"Wait!" the cadet replied. He still had concerns he wanted to ask her about.

"Don't be afraid, kid," she whispered. "Like I said, I'm sure you'll figure something out." With that, she turned her back on the young boy, strolling back down the hallway they came from. Pivoting her head around, the woman looked him in the eye one more time.

"My name's Harlow, by the way," she hollered over her shoulder.

And with that, the Jedi walked away.

The cadet felt tired, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fall asleep that night. There was simply too much rattling around in his head. The situation in the supply closet, the woman who rescued him…the name she gave him.

Part of him hated the fact that the stupid nickname was stuck in his head. After all, he simply wanted to forget the day's events had even happened and move on. The nickname would act as nothing more than a reminder to him.

But deep down, there was another part of him, hidden beneath the surface, that was amazed he finally had a nickname. "Cooper" was a painful reminder of what happened, sure, but it beat "No Name" any day. All this time, he'd been referred to as a number, and as expendable. And all this time, the cadet had been hoping to form his own identity, same as every clone. But now…now the boy had something to call his own, something that made him unique.

Something that made him human.

The name was stuck in the cadet's head.

And admittedly, CT-4901—Cooper—wouldn't have it any other way.

Ah, Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Good times. Good times.

I loved this show as a kid. I remember watching the very first episode with my dad. It's a real shame that it got cancelled. (Why, Disney? Why?)

Anyway, I plan on continuing this little series, so let me know if I need to improve on anything. Thanks, and have a great day. :)