LINA HAD TOLD MILO not to leave the ship, so of course he’d done exactly that. He wasn’t going to have her boss him around. Yeah, she was older, but only by one year. She wasn’t Mom or Dad.

It didn’t help that he felt so helpless. When the generator had failed, Lina had gone on the space walk. Lina had gotten the engines running again. She wouldn’t even let him fly the ship.

It was always the same. Milo will mess up. Milo will get hurt.

Well, Milo wasn’t listening anymore!

Sitting on the edge of the canal, he pulled on the string that he’d been dangling over the edge. At the end of the line was an insect trap. It was a jar with a spring-loaded lid. A strange creature was crawling around its rim. It had multicolored wings like a Gorsian dragonfly but the bloated body of a slimy reptile.

“That’s it,” Milo whispered to the creature. “Go in the jar. Get your sweet treat.”

He had spread sugar on the bottom of the jar to see what he could attract and this was the best specimen yet. Of all the bugs that swarmed through Thune’s thick air, these were the most fascinating. The warts on their backs pulsated, glowing blue as they buzzed around the murky water.

The inquisitive creature hesitated and then darted inside, crawling into the neck of the jar. With a flick of Milo’s wrist, the lid snapped shut and the flying toad-thing was trapped. Milo hauled up his prize, peering through the glass as soon as it was in his hands.

“Oh, you’re beautiful.” Milo grinned.

The creature flew around the temporary prison, its warts darkening to glow a deep purple. Lina could keep her engines and machines; he’d take living creatures over steel hulls and faulty power cables any day.

Jumping up, he ran back to the spaceport, ducking as a large bug swooped down, narrowly missing his head. It was another of the toad-flies.

Then there was another, and another, dive-bombing him as he sprinted for the ship. In the jar, the trapped creature croaked, its long tongue darting out to slap the glass.

“Friends of yours?” Milo asked as he reached the Whisper Bird, the entry ramp automatically lowering.

Once inside, Milo placed the jar on the specimen scanner in the main hold. Dad used the machine to analyze new discoveries while on expeditions. Milo felt a pang of sadness as he imagined how much Auric Graf would have loved to see this strange bug.

Still, he told himself, working the controls, he’d have something to tell his parents when the Whisper Bird finally caught up with them. The scanner hummed, bathing the jar in green light.

“Don’t worry, little guy,” Milo told the insect. “I’ll let you go soon.”

A holographic copy of the toad-fly had already appeared next to the jar, mapping every part of the creature’s body, from its skeleton to the venom it stored in its cheeks.

Behind Milo, Crater descended from the engineering section. “There you are, Master Milo. I thought Mistress Lina told you not to run off!”

“Mistress Lina says a lot of things,” Milo said, eager to show CR-8R what he had found. “Look.”

The droid peered into the sample jar. “What a fine specimen!” he exclaimed. “A Thunian wart-hornet.”

Milo’s heart sank. “You know about them?”

“Oh, yes,” the droid replied. “Quite common around these parts—and vicious, too. You’re lucky it didn’t lick you.”

“Lick me?” Milo asked.

“Its tongue is covered in venom. Just one lick and you’ll swell up like a balloon. Very nasty.”

Milo sighed. “I thought I’d caught something rare.”

“I’ll tell you all about them later,” the droid promised. “Your father conducted a study on them five years ago. In the meantime, have you heard from your sister? I’ve recalibrated the main generator and run a full diagnosis of the Whisper Bird’s systems. Everything is good to go.”

“So we can take off again?” Milo asked hopefully.

“As soon as we’ve heard from Dil Pexton, yes!” the droid replied.

There was a crash from the hallway, and Morq ran in, screeching at the top of his lungs. He leapt into Milo’s arms and clung tightly to him.

“Whoa, what’s the matter with you?” Milo said.

“What’s that obnoxious creature done now?” CR-8R asked. There wasn’t a lot of love lost between the droid and the monkey-lizard.

“He’s shaking,” Milo said, trying to pry Morq from his chest. “What happened? Where’s Lina?”

A light started flashing on the holo-table.

“Master Milo,” CR-8R said, pointing out the alert.

“That’s probably Dil,” Milo said, running across the hold to check the readout. The signal was transmitting from Dil’s office.

“Let me,” CR-8R insisted, making his way over to the table, but Milo wasn’t about to be told what to do again. Sitting down before CR-8R could get there, he punched the control to answer the call. The holo-projector whined to life and an image appeared above the surface—but it wasn’t Dil Pexton or Lina.

It was Captain Korda.

Morq squealed in fear and climbed the wall to hide in the corner of the ceiling.

“Milo Graf, I presume,” the Imperial officer snarled, his dark voice threatening over the comms-line. “Welcome to Thune.”

Milo didn’t know what to do. Shut off the holo-projector? Run and hide? Instead, he decided to ask the question that screamed through his head.

“What have you done with my sister?” he demanded.

Korda laughed cruelly. “You’re an intelligent boy. I like someone who gets to the point. There’s no need to worry. Your sister is quite safe. She reminds me of your mother.”

With a cry of fury, Milo jumped up and swung his arm at the holographic head. It passed through, distorting the image for a second before Korda’s face realigned.

“You should apply for the Imperial Academy,” Korda sneered. “We could put all that energy to good use.”

“I’ll never work for the Empire,” Milo spat.

“Everyone works for the Empire sooner or later. We can discuss your future when we meet. That is, if you want to see Lina again,” Korda said.

Tears stung Milo’s eyes, but he wasn’t about to cry in front of Korda. “Of course I do.”

Korda’s smile fell away. “Then send me your coordinates. I have to say, I’m impressed. My men haven’t been able to break your encrypted holo-channel and Lina isn’t saying anything. For now.”

“I’ll come to you,” Milo said, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Master Milo, no—” CR-8R started to say, but he was silenced by a wave of Milo’s hand.

“You want the data, don’t you?” Milo asked.

Korda nodded. “Intelligent and insightful.”

“A public place, then,” Milo said. “With no guards. Bring Lina and I’ll bring the files.”

The captain laughed again. “I think someone has been watching too many holo-dramas, but if you wish. What about Merchant’s Bridge? Do you know it?”

“I’ll find it,” Milo said firmly.

“You have thirty minutes. If you’re not there, then your sister will pay the price,” Korda threatened.

“Don’t hurt her!” Milo shouted.

“I haven’t yet, but I can and I will. That’s a promise, not a threat. Merchant’s Bridge in thirty minutes. Be there.”

The signal went dead, and Korda’s image vanished.

Milo sat down hard and started to cry. With a whimper, Morq crawled down the wall and wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him tight.

“We have to call the authorities and report that dreadful man,” CR-8R said.

“I keep telling you—Korda is the authorities,” Milo sniffed, hugging Morq back.

“Then what?” CR-8R said, exasperated. “We can’t face him alone!”

Milo looked at the wart-hornet croaking furiously in the sample jar. “Maybe we won’t need to.” He wiped his nose against the back of his hand. “Where’s this Merchant’s Bridge?”

CR-8R hovered over and connected himself to the holo-table. A three-dimensional map of Thune City appeared in the air, and CR-8R zoomed in on a large bridge that spanned the canal. It was covered with market stalls and traders.

“Here it is,” the droid said. “It has one of the biggest markets in the city.”

“How long will it take us to get there?” Milo asked.

“Only ten minutes or so, but we can’t trust Korda,” CR-8R said, worried. “His men will already be looking for us.”

“They don’t know that the Whisper Bird survived the explosion on the swamp world,” Milo pointed out. “And Lina’s obviously not told them anything. According to your fake codes this is Starstormer One, remember?”

CR-8R wasn’t convinced. “Even so, now that they know you’re alive—”

Milo interrupted the anxious droid. “The wart-hornets. They tried to attack me when I trapped this one.”

“Well, yes,” CR-8R said, confused by the sudden change in subject. “They were probably trying to protect one of their own.”

“But how did they know it was in danger?” Milo asked.

“Now really isn’t the time for a biology lesson, Master Milo,” CR-8R scolded. “Your sister—”

Milo stood up and Morq jumped down onto the seat beside him. “Come on, Crater. You love a lecture. Besides, if we’re going to rescue Lina, now is exactly the time.”