Confused? You should be. To quote Pablo Hidalgo, who writes for StarWars.com, "If you ever had to throw a dinner party and invite everyone who had ever stolen the Death Star plans, you'd be surprised at how many place settings you'd have to worry about."

But did you know, there's yet another man whose contribution to these events is unknown and uncelebrated? Now, for the first time, I, Jace Varitek, bring you the thrilling story of George Thorogood, the Rebel technician and hero on Yavin IV who studied the Death Star plans in painstaking detail and discovered the thermal exhaust port.

"Are you serious? There's like twelve sets of plans here," George said to Jan Dodonna, incredulously, as pages and pages of impenetrably dense technical data scrolled across his holoscreen. "It's a shit ton."

"Yeah," Dodonna said, his old, grave brow furrowed, gravely, "We're kind of on the clock, too."

"On the clock? Why?"

"Well, Princess Leia knew there was probably a homing beacon on her ship, and that the Imperials, more likely than not, were following her," Dodonna explained, with a shrug, "But she came straight here anyway."

"What, why?" George said, "Couldn't she have gone, like, somewhere else? Anywhere else? And then got another ride the rest of the way here?"

"Yeah, well, she's a Princess, not a tactical genius."

"You don't have to be a genius to—" George sighed, then shook his head. "Okay, so how long do we have, like a week?"

"No, more like an hour," Dodonna said, smiling sheepishly as he looked down at his shoes, "Or less. Probably less, actually, if the Death Star just followed right behind them. Could be five minutes, for all we know."

"I'm supposed to find a magic 'weak spot' in this clusterfuck of technical readouts in five minutes?"

"More like four," Dodonna mumbled, looking surreptitiously at his wrist chrono.

George sighed. "Well," he said, "Isn't there at least, like, an Indian guy who can help me out with this?"

"No," Dodonna said, "This is the first Star Wars movie, George. We're all white."

"Oh shit, yeah," George said, rubbing the back of his neck as he swivelled his chair to glance tentatively at his holoscreen again. "Well, I guess I'll get to work then. I really don't see why twelve sets of identical plans were necessary, though."

"Yeah, the writers don't know what they're doing," Dodonna shook his head, "Can you believe they're going to kill me off?"

"Sucks, man. But I should probably get to work here."

"Yes, indeed. I'll leave you to it." George settled into his chair and began perusing through the files, only to become distinctly aware that Dodonna was still there in the room, hovering over his shoulder. He half-glanced at Dodonna a number of times, hoping the General would get the hint and leave him be. But he didn't. Perhaps thirty seconds elapsed in this way before Dodonna spoke up again. "So, found anything?" he asked.

"No I haven't found anything!" George said indignantly, swivelling his chair to face Dodonna. He was about to protest further when another man entered the room, approached Dodonna and offered the General a crisp salute.

"Sir, we have three more sets of Death Star plans."

"Splendid, Major," Dodonna said, "Where did you get them?"

"Well," the Major thumbed through each of the three datacards as he explained, "A janitor found this one in a men's room stall in the pub of the Imperial garrison on Devlikk. This one we bought by mistake at a flea market, actually, thinking it was a Lady Gaga CD--see how it says 'The Fame' on it, there,'" Dodonna looked closely, and nodded. "I see," he said. The Major continued, moving on to the next datacard, "and Jim's friend posted a link to this one on Facebook."

"That's good work, Major," Dodonna nodded, "Give them to George here."

"Oh, hello Lonesome George," the Major said as he dropped the datacards onto George's desk, then saluted General Dodonna, turned, and left the room.

"'Lonesome George'?" Dodonna asked, "Is that your nickname?"

"No," George assured him, "It's one of the nicknames of George Thorogood the musician."

"Oh," Dodonna said, "Your last name is Thorogood? How funny. I hadn't realized."

"Yeah, funny."

"He did 'Bad to the Bone,' right?"

"He did a lot of songs, as a matter of fact."

Dodonna furrowed his brow. "Well yeah, I wasn't implying he was a one hit wonder."

"Well he wasn't," George said, turning back to his screen with a perturbed look on his face. "He also covered 'Move It On Over' and 'Who Do You Love,' and lots of songs."

"Oh, is that the one from the Sam Adams commercials?"

George sighed. "It's in Sam Adams commercials, yes."

"Bum b-bum b-bum, b-bum bum, bum b-bum—I don't know the words, except 'Whoo do you loooove.'"

"That's because you've only heard it in a damn commercial."

"Easy, George," Dodonna cautioned him, "We're all in this together, now. We need to work together."

"No," George shook his head, one of his eyes twitching as he continued to pour over the technical readouts, "I need to work alone, so I can concentrate on this shit ton of data."

"I preferred the old Sam Adams commercials," Dodonna mused, "'Always a good decision!' Remember those?" George didn't answer, remaining focused on the readouts. "Didn't Samuel L. Jackson do one of those?"

"No," George said, "That was a Dave Chappell parody."

"Yes they deserve to die, and I hope they burn in hell!"

Again, George didn't answer.

The Major hurried into the room again a moment later and stopped before Dodonna with panting breaths. "General, Sir," he said, "The Death Star is here!"

"Oh, my," Dodonna said, his expression turning grim as he glanced at George. "That's b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bad."

George pounded a fist on his desk as he looked back at Dodonna, enraged. "Did you seriously just make a lame 'Bad to the Bone' reference on the occasion of our imminent doom?"