by Cavan Scott
Just another day in the life of the Grafs, Lina thought as she gunned the landspeeder’s engine. Wouldn’t have it any other way. Most of the time.
The landspeeder skimmed onto the plain where the Grafs had made camp. It was getting dark, but Lina could make out the dome-like tents that CR-8R had constructed earlier. She peered over the speeder’s windscreen.
“That’s odd.”
“What is?”
“There’s no lights.”
Morq immediately let out a concerned whine.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Milo said. “The generator’s probably packed up. I bet Mom’s fixing it right now.”
The monkey-lizard nuzzled into him, not convinced.
“But I installed a backup generator myself,” CR-8R fussed behind them. “Surely they couldn’t both have blown?”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” said Lina as they made their final approach. “After Dad yells at us, of course.”
“What do you think he’ll make us do this time?” Milo asked. “Clean out the Whisper Bird’s exhaust?”
“Worse than that,” Lina said, making a face. “He’ll probably force us to listen to one of Crater’s lectures!”
Milo let out a comic groan. “Please no, not the one about atmosphere-filtration turbines again. Anything but that!”
“Of all the nerve,” complained CR-8R. “I’ll have you know that AFT units are fascinating. Why, only the other day—”
“Crater, shut up!” Lina snapped.
“I beg your pardon!”
“I mean it. Listen.”
They fell silent, all straining to hear over the whine of the landspeeder.
“I can’t hear anything,” said Milo.
“Exactly. Even if the generators are down, we should be able to hear Dad crashing around.”
She brought the landspeeder to a halt by the two domes and jumped out.
“Mom? Dad?”
There was no response.
“Where are they?” Milo asked, running up beside her.
Lina scooted around the main dome but stopped short when she got to the entrance, slipping slightly in the mud. “I don’t understand,” she said, her stomach clenching as panic started to set in. “Where is everything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Look. All our stuff. It’s gone.”
The domes were completely empty. No tools. No equipment. Not even their camp beds.
“Have Mom and Dad gone back to the Bird?” Milo asked.
“Without telling us?” Lina snapped, a little too forcefully. She saw Milo shrink back and forced her voice to be calm. “It’s not like them, that’s all.”
Milo shrugged. “Dad did say a storm was coming.”
Lina scanned the horizon, her fists clenched so hard that her nails dug into her palms. She wasn’t sure about any of this. The Whisper Bird was sheltering in a nearby cave system, but if their parents had headed back early, why hadn’t they taken the domes with them? Nothing about this made sense.
Nearby, CR-8R swept his flashlight attachment over the muddy ground around the camp. “Wherever they’ve gone, it looks like they had company.”
“What are you talking about?” Milo asked, running over to the droid. “No one else is on this planet, are they?”
CR-8R shook his head. “No. Dil Pexton said your parents have exclusive rights.”
Dil Pexton was the Grafs’ agent out in the Rim worlds, setting up deals for the maps and data charts the family made while exploring. He was the one who’d put them onto this swamp world in the first place, a planetoid so remote that it didn’t even have an official name. Dad joked that they could christen it Graf-World.
“Could it be Dil?” Lina asked, desperately trying to stay positive.
“Not unless he brought friends,” replied Milo. “Crater, shine your light over here.”
The droid pointed his light in the direction Milo was indicating. It revealed a host of large footprints in the mud.
“So many of them,” said Milo, his voice wavering. “And Dil’s feet aren’t that big!”
“What’s that?” Lina asked as something shone in the mud. She bent down and pulled out a long gold chain with an emerald star pendant.
“It’s Mom’s,” Milo said. “Dad gave it to her on Morellia.”
“She wouldn’t leave it behind,” Lina insisted. “She loves it.”
“Unless she doesn’t know she lost it,” CR-8R said.
“Wait, there’s something else.” Milo dropped down on his knees, scrabbling around in the dirt. “It’s totally buried.”
“Let me see.” Lina helped him pull the small device from the ground.
“It’s the holo-recorder your parents use to create three-dimensional surveys of the landscape,” CR-8R said.
“Yes, I know what it is,” snapped Lina, “but it’s caked in mud.”
“There’s a light flashing,” Milo said.
“It recorded something,” Lina replied. “If I can just clean the projector grooves…”
Using her sleeve, she rubbed mud from the recorder. All of a sudden, it buzzed, light blazing from the indentations notched into its sides. Lina cried out in alarm and dropped the device as ghostly glowing figures appeared around them.
“It’s Mom and Dad,” Milo said as an image of Rhyssa and Auric Graf flickered into being in the mouth of the dome—but that wasn’t all. Their parents were surrounded by a circle of armor-clad figures, each wearing a featureless helmet.
“Lina,” gasped Milo. “They’re stormtroopers! It’s the Empire!”
NONE OF THE HOLOGRAPHIC figures was moving, the life-size images frozen at a single point in time.
“Can you get it to play?” asked Milo.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Lina asked, cross-legged on the ground, a probe already jammed into the holo-recorder.
It was eerie, being surrounded by the unmoving figures, like electronic statues, the plasto-canvas walls of the dome showing through their bodies. There was more to the scene, as well. Just outside the camp hovered a hologram of some kind of Imperial transport, big and blocky, the image flickering as Lina worked on the recorder.
Milo’s heart hammered in his chest. This was amazing!
Even out in Wild Space, people sang the praises of the Empire. It was easy to see why. The Clone Wars had laid waste to the galaxy, with billions killed at the hands of the corrupt Republic. Now things were different. The Emperor had swept away the old order and was reuniting the galaxy. With peace restored, the Galactic Empire was turning its attention to the farthest reaches of Wild Space, even as far as the Unknown Territories.
“It’ll make us rich, kid,” Dad had said. “Just you wait and see.”
Milo wanted more than just riches. Mom, Dad, and Lina could sell their maps and data charts, but he had bigger plans. He wanted to join the Imperial Survey Corps, when he was old enough, and explore these mysterious new frontiers. Just the thought of all the species waiting to be discovered made his head spin.
Of course, he hadn’t told Lina any of this. She would just laugh at him, but he was determined to make it happen.
Perhaps this was his chance. If the Imperials were on the planet, and already talking to Mom and Dad…
“I think I’ve got it,” Lina called over to him.
“Then what are you waiting for? Play the thing.”
She flicked a tiny control and the holo-recording started to move, the figures jerking to life.
“Now, Commander. You know this isn’t the way we usually do business.”
It was Dad’s voice, tinny through the holo-recorder’s speakers.
“Crater, can you do anything about that?”
CR-8R swept up the recorder with one of his manipulator arms and plugged it into his own system
, amplifying the volume of the recording.
“Times have changed since you left for Wild Space,” said a stormtrooper with a tan-colored pauldron strapped over his shoulder. Milo frowned. Even in a hologram, the stormtroopers looked impressive, standing there in their pristine white armor, but why were they clutching blaster rifles close to their chests? Surely there was no threat.
“Even so,” said their mother, Rhyssa, looking as unsure as Milo felt about the situation, “why we couldn’t have met on a galactic waystation or—”
A voice from farther away cut her off. Milo turned to see a figure silhouetted in the transport’s open hatch. It was a huge man with broad shoulders, wearing a smart, functional uniform.
“Cartographer Graf,” the man said, his voice deep and commanding, “where we have met is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is your data.”
The specter-like hologram of Auric Graf sidestepped the stormtrooper commander and moved toward the transport. “Of course, Captain Korda. So, to business…”
Milo felt a hand slip into his. Lina was standing beside him, looking nervous. “Something isn’t right here,” she said.
Milo pulled his hand free. He felt the same, but he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to bring his sister down a peg or seventeen.
“Don’t be such a baby. Dad’s laying on the Graf charm. This Captain Korda guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Can I offer you gentlemen some refreshments?” Auric continued. “Most of our supplies are back on the ship, but I’m sure we can rustle up a little Khormian brandy.”
“That won’t be necessary,” came the terse reply. “You have the information I requested?”
Rhyssa Graf went to her husband’s side and indicated the datapad she held in her hands. “All here, as agreed with our agent, Dil Pexton.”
“And you won’t regret it, Captain,” added Auric. “New species of animals and plants, mineral deposits and natural resources for every planet in the sector, all with high-definition holo-graphics. The gold package.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
“Excellent,” Auric replied. “Which brings us to the next item on the agenda. Our fee.”
“Your what?” Korda asked, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
Milo’s dad laughed. “Information is power, Captain, and power comes at a price.”
At this, Korda stepped out of the shadows of the access hatch and, for the first time, the children could see his face. He had tightly cropped light-colored hair beneath a fitted cap, his eyes small for such a large face, glaring at their parents from above a hawk-like nose. But what was wrong with his mouth? The captain’s chin was missing, the lower half of his face replaced by a robotic jaw lined with sharp metal teeth.
Milo grabbed his sister’s hand and squeezed.
“Cartographer Graf,” Korda all but snarled, stalking toward them, “I am a captain of the Imperial Navy. Trust me when I say that I understand power.”
Milo wished that he could hide behind his parents, but that was impossible. They weren’t really there, just tricks of the light.
“I-I’m sure you also understand how this works,” Auric said, his voice shaking slightly. “We have something you want. You have credits.”
“No,” Korda replied. “You have something I want. I take it.”
“Not without a fair price,” Rhyssa Graf cut in.
The captain took a step toward Milo’s mother. She stood her ground, chin held high.
“You are loyal subjects of the Empire,” Korda said, his voice dangerously low. “You are obliged to hand over your data immediately.”
“I don’t think so,” Auric said, giving the stormtroopers’ blasters a nervous glance. “Look, we’re not Imperial citizens, you can’t order us around.”
“This planetoid is in Imperial space,” Korda pointed out.
“Since when?”
“Since I made planetfall. Now, you can hand over your data willingly, or I can take it by force. It’s your choice.”
As one, the stormtroopers’ rifles swung up.
THE HOLOGRAM CUT OFF, plunging the children back into darkness.
“What happened?” Milo cried out. “Where did it go?”
CR-8R was already prying apart a corner of the recorder. “One of the memory crystals came loose. I just need to slot it back in, and…” There was a click from the device. “There.”
The hologram returned, but the action had moved on. Their dad was on his knees, his hands behind his head and a blaster leveled at him.
Milo ran over to his dad’s image. Auric’s face was swollen. “They hit him.”
“Now, shall we try again?” said Korda.
Rhyssa’s image sighed. “You win, Captain. I just need to…” Her voice trailed off as she worked the datapad, a tiny light flashing on its edge. There was a final beep and she held it out to Korda. “Here. It’s everything we have.”
“The right decision,” said the officer, taking the pad and scrolling through its contents. “The Empire thanks you.”
“You have what you came for,” their mother said, trying to salvage a little dignity. “I suggest you leave.”
The captain snorted. “I don’t think so. To become strong, the Empire needs to expand. Lord Vader himself has charged me with securing certain resources.”
“Like our maps.”
“Like you. For too long the talents of explorers such as yourself have been squandered on personal gain.”
“Now, wait a minute—” said Auric
“It’s time for you to serve the Empire.”
“We’ll do no such thing!”
“You have no choice. Take them.”
The stormtrooper commander hooked a gauntleted hand under their dad’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “You can’t do this,” Auric cried.
“Is that so?” sneered Korda before turning his attention to the stormtrooper. “Commander, I want no evidence of what has happened here. Strip this place clean and then take care of the Grafs’ ship. Sensors indicate that it’s hidden in a cave system two kilometers away. We can’t blast it from the air, so deal with it personally.”
“Yes, sir,” the commander replied, throwing Auric to another stormtrooper. More troopers had grabbed Rhyssa and were dragging her to the transport. She fought back, her necklace falling from around her neck to tumble into the mud. “Korda,” she pleaded. “You don’t understand! Our children are out there somewhere!”
Korda’s head snapped around. “Children? On this planet?”
Milo felt his blood freeze in his veins.
The captain turned to the commander. “After you’ve dealt with the ship, you’ll find and deal with the children. Understand?”
“No!” Rhyssa wailed, but was dragged onto the transport by the stormtroopers. Their dad struggled but was soon overpowered. Forgetting that it was just a holo-recording, Milo raced forward to help—but when he reached out to try to pull the troopers away from his mom and dad, he found only empty air.
“Get everything into the transport,” the commander ordered, marching forward to stand on the exact point where they had found the recorder. The image vanished in a burst of static.
Milo whirled around. “No!” he shouted. “Crater, do something.”
The droid shook his head. “That’s the end of the recording.”
The children stood in the empty dome, stunned.
“That was a joke, right?” said Milo. “One of Dad’s pranks?”
Lina looked at her mother’s necklace in her hand. “Looked pretty real to me.”
“But how long ago did it all happen?”
CR-8R consulted the recorder. “There’s no time stamp. It was damaged when the trooper stepped on it.”
Lina looked up. “No, wait. Remember when Mom was us
ing the datapad, before she gave it to Korda?”
Milo realized what she was thinking. “The light was blinking, like it does when it’s sending data.”
“The information Crater received!”
“So it hasn’t been long,” CR-8R said. “We still have time to inform the authorities.”
“The Empire is the authorities,” Milo reminded him. “We’ll go to the ship.”
“To the Whisper Bird?” CR-8R asked. “But the troopers are heading there!”
“We might get there first if we use the landspeeder. What do you say, Lina?”
Lina shrugged. “I can’t think of a better plan.”
“I can,” said CR-8R. “Let’s do something that doesn’t get us blasted into a million pieces.”
“Just get into the speeder,” said Lina, running to the hovercraft followed by a still-complaining CR-8R.
Milo stood there for a moment, his head spinning. Everything he thought he’d known about the Empire was a lie, and now his parents were in its clutches. He had never felt so helpless.
There was a squeak from inside the dome. Morq was cringing near the side, visibly shaking.
“Hey, there,” Milo said, moving over to kneel with him. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” The monkey-lizard whimpered and threw himself at Milo, wrapping his long arms around Milo’s neck.
“Yeah, I know. I’m scared, too. But we can do this, if we stick together. We need to get to the Bird before the stormtroopers. There’s bound to be something in there that we can use. We just have to be brave, okay?”
Morq hesitated and then nodded, looking more apprehensive than ever.
The landspeeder slid in front of the dome, Lina at the controls.
“Are you coming or what?”