MERCHANT’S BRIDGE was as busy as CR-8R had said. Milo stood in the middle, trying not to panic. Aliens streamed past him from every angle, hot and sweaty in the midday sun. The ancient bridge was wide. Stalls ran along every side. The cobbled stones beneath his feet were crumbling, worn down by thousands of feet over the centuries. Beside Milo, CR-8R twitched his manipulator arms nervously.

“This is a bad idea. A very bad idea,” the droid remarked.

“Coming to this planet was a bad idea, but I didn’t hear you talking about it then!” Milo snapped back. Morq sat shaking on Milo’s shoulders, although he jumped off when he spotted a stall selling large orange rakmelons.

Milo turned around in a circle, searching the crowd for any sign of Lina. Then, suddenly, their eyes met. She was farther up the bridge, looking straight at him, her body rigid with fear.

“There she is,” Milo shouted, shoving aliens out of the way to get to her. “Lina!”

“Master Milo, wait!” CR-8R called.

The droid tried to stop Milo, but it was no use. CR-8R got stuck behind a large furry alien that looked like a cross between a Hutt and a Wookiee having a bad hair day.

“Excuse me, madam,” he implored, but the alien wouldn’t budge.

Ahead, the crowds parted enough to show Dil Pexton standing next to Lina, looking miserable. The alien had his hand wrapped around her arm. But, Milo wondered, if Dil was there, where was Korda?

Dil pushed Lina toward Milo and she wriggled out of his grip, running forward. She grabbed her brother and held him tight. “Don’t trust him,” she whispered softly into Milo’s ear.

“Milo,” Dil said, trying to sound jovial. “It’s good to see you.”

Milo grabbed his sister’s hand and glared at the Sullustan. “What have you done?”

Dil’s ears flushed pink and he raised his hands. “Look, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Of course you did,” Lina hissed, gripping Milo’s hand tighter. “You’re Mom and Dad’s best friend.”

“And I’m trying to help them,” Dil insisted.

“By betraying us?” Lina spat.

Dil frowned and his tone hardened. “You kids have no idea what’s really going on here. This is real life, not flying around with Mom and Dad having little adventures. These people mean business. If you don’t do what they say, they’ll kill you, or worse.”

“What could be worse?” Milo asked.

“You don’t want to know. Korda has enough on me to lock me up forever, but I’m not letting that happen, so be smart. Give me the data and they’ll let you go.”

Lina laughed. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, just that you’ve got the files,” Dil replied. “You did bring them, didn’t you?”

Milo stuck his chin in the air, hoping that the traitorous alien wouldn’t see how scared he was. “No. I didn’t bring them.”

“You little—” Dil began, grabbing Milo’s arm and pulling him close. “Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”

“Let go of me,” Milo hissed, trying to pull himself free. Around them, the market-goers ignored the struggle, not wanting any trouble themselves.

“I put my neck on the line for you!” Dil shouted angrily. “Korda wanted to come marching in here with blasters blazing, but I said, ‘No, let me go alone. Milo’s a smart kid,’ I said, ‘he won’t do anything stupid.’”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Milo said.

Dil’s grip on his arm tightened. “Where are they? Who’s got them?”

“Unhand that boy immediately,” someone called from behind the alien. Milo twisted in Dil’s clutches to see CR-8R speeding toward them, clearing a path with his manipulator arm.

Dil sighed. “Or what? You’ll bore me to death?”

“Or I’ll…” The droid hesitated, then repeated himself. “Or I’ll…okay, I don’t know exactly what I’ll do, but it won’t be very nice, I can promise you that.”

Dil shook his head. “Pathetic.”

But before he could say another word, a man shouted above the loud bustle of the crowd.

“Time’s up, Pexton.”

Dil spun around. “No!”

“Clear the bridge,” the man commanded.

All at once there was the sound of blaster fire, and bolts of energy shot up into the air. There were screams and cries of panic as the crowd ran for cover. Purchases were thrown to the ground as the mass of aliens almost climbed over each other to get away. The woolly female nearly mowed down CR-8R in her panic. Milo turned to his sister. “Let’s go, now!”

“Don’t even think it,” Dil sneered, pulling a blaster from his belt. He pointed it straight at Milo.

“You wouldn’t shoot us,” Milo said, although he wasn’t so sure that was true.

“Don’t make me find out,” Dil pleaded.

The bridge was almost deserted now. Milo, Lina, and CR-8R stood in the middle with Pexton. Morq sat on a nearby stall, smothered in rakmelon pulp and spitting out the sticky seeds. It was only when he looked up and realized that everyone had gone that he raced over to the children.

Captain Korda stood on the far end of the bridge, flanked by a line of armed stormtroopers. A second row of stormtroopers blocked the other exit. There was no escape.

As if to emphasize the point, three TIE fighters screamed past overhead before turning and circling the city.

Korda started walking toward the children, his hands behind his back. Both rows of stormtroopers followed the captain, marching in formation with their blasters at the ready.

Dil shuffled closer to Milo. “Don’t argue with him,” he whispered. “Whatever he wants, just give it to him, for all our sakes.”

“Milo Graf,” Korda said as he moved forward. “The intelligent boy with the spirited sister. Oh, they’re going to love you two at the Academy. Stormtrooper training, possibly? Maybe even officer potential. Would you like that? A uniform like mine?”

Milo didn’t respond. He stood there, clutching his sister’s hand.

“Maybe you’ll even meet the Emperor himself,” Korda continued. “Go all the way to the top. A clever boy like you. There’s nothing you couldn’t do. Your sister, too. So sure of herself. So strong-willed. Not many people keep quiet when I’m asking them questions.”

He stopped in front of them, the stormtroopers standing behind him.

Milo pretended that he didn’t care. He had a question of his own.

“What have you done with our parents?” he said.

Korda flashed a sly smile.

“What have you done with my files?” the captain replied.

“Why should we give them to you?” Milo said.

Korda’s smile vanished. “Because if you don’t, my men will start shooting. We could begin with your droid?”

The nearest stormtrooper pointed his rifle at CR-8R. The robot gave an electronic wail and raised all six of his arms in defense.

“Wait,” Dil said, stepping forward. “If I know Auric and Rhyssa, they’ve hidden the data on that droid. It doesn’t look like much, but they love that old thing.”

“Old?” CR-8R bellowed, despite his obvious fear.

“Is that right?” Korda said, turning to Milo and Lina. “Are the files in the droid?”

Neither one of them responded, but their silence didn’t faze the Imperial captain.

“Very well,” he said. “We’ll strip its memory, just in case. Thank you, Pexton. You have done very well.” He turned to the stormtrooper. “Arrest him!”

“What?” Dil cried. “You can’t! I did what you said! All of it!”

“I can do whatever I want,” Korda barked. “Drop your weapon or we’ll shoot!”

Dil sighed. For a moment, Milo thought Dil was going to throw his blaster to the ground. Then, with a look of sheer desperation, the Sullustan brought it back up sharply, aiming straight for Korda.

He never took the shot. Rings of blue energy blasted from one of the stormtrooper’s rifles, knocking Dil off his feet. He crashed to the ground.

Milo let out a cry. He couldn’t help it. He was terrified.

“The alien’s stunned,” Korda informed them. “Nothing more. A lifetime of mining awaits him. As for you?” Korda glared at them. “This is your last chance. Give me those files! Now!”

Milo swallowed.

“Okay,” he said.

“Milo!” Lina said, grabbing his arm. “You can’t just hand them over.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” CR-8R added. “Especially since they’re in my head!”

“You’re more important, Sis,” Milo said, giving Lina a sad smile before turning to Captain Korda. “If he wants the files so badly, he can have them. Crater, transmit now!”