The Heist

by Disney Book Group

  Milo joined her at the edge of the room. “My fault? You were supposed to be holding the chair!” He peered at the warehouse floor far below. “We’re a long way up, aren’t we?”

  “I guess Odai likes looking down at his kingdom.”

  “Yeah, speaking of Odai…” Milo said, pointing at another crate that was rising toward them. Its door was already open and the Mon Calamari was standing in the gap. Rom and IG-70 were beside him, their blasters raised.

  “They don’t look happy to see us,” Milo said as the first shots hammered against the outside of the office.

  “What are we going to do?” Lina asked, jumping away from the opening. She looked around the office in desperation. “That’s the only way out.”

  Milo’s hand went to the breathing mask around his neck. “No, it’s not. When did we last take a bath?”

  Lina stared at the tank of water set into the wall. “You’re joking!”

  Milo ran back to the floating platforms and hopped onto the desk to grab a large silver box from one of the pedestals.

  “That should do it,” he said, jumping back down to the carpet.

  “Do what?”

  Milo opened the box’s lid and ran back to Lina. “I don’t know if CR-8R’s head is waterproof.”

  “You’re not joking,” Lina groaned, slipping the droid’s head inside the box. Milo snapped the lid shut.

  “Nope. You first.”

  “Why me?”

  The whine of the approaching crate was getting louder with every second.

  “Okay, okay,” Milo conceded. “I’ll lead the way, if you’re scared.”

  Lina shot him a withering look as he popped his breathing mask over his mouth and hurried to the force field. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his hand through the energy barrier. He quickly pulled his hand back out as soon as it got wet.

  “It’s freezing!”

  “Changing your mind?”

  An energy bolt shot through the open door to slam against the ceiling.

  “Not on your life,” Milo said, jumping through the force field. Lina ran to the controls and tried to remember how Rom had operated the flush. “Stop where you are!” someone shouted from the open door. The crate was almost in place and IG-70’s blaster was pointing right at her. “Drop the head!”

  “No, don’t!” Odai yelled. “You’ll break it! Just stay where you are!”

  “Sorry, can’t do that,” Lina shouted back. “See you later!”

  She slammed her palm down on the control and the water whooshed from the tank, taking Milo with it. Clutching the metal box to her chest, Lina dived into the force field. She had the vague impression of two blaster bolts passing behind her before she plunged into the icy water.

  It was like jumping into a whirlpool. One second she was in the tank and the next she was being sucked down a pipe, bashing against its slimy sides as she was pushed along by the current. She called out for Milo, but there was no answer. All she could do was hold on to the box and hope for the best.

  Her head bumped against the side of the pipe, knocking her visor from her face. Salty water stung her eyes as she looked around, trying to see her brother.

  She suddenly slammed into him—hard!

  He cried out in pain as the remainder of the water washed past them, out through the circular grate that Milo had crashed into.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, pulling her breathing mask aside.

  Milo was pushing against the grill. “This thing won’t budge.”

  She put the silver box to the side and joined in, heaving against the heavy metal grate. The stink coming from the other side told her that they were probably down in Lothal’s sewer system, but as long as they were nowhere near Odai and his goons, she didn’t care.

  “It’s no use,” she said, wiggling her fingers through the holes in the grill. “There must be some kind of lock.”

  She worked her way around the edge of the grating, finally finding a block of cold steel jutting out.

  “That’s got to be it,” Lina said. “Hold Crater’s head.”

  Milo picked up the silver box as Lina reached for the tools in her belt.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  Lina pulled her fusion torch out of its pouch. “Maybe nothing if this got too wet.”

  She pressed the button on the edge of the small metal cylinder, but nothing happened. She gave it a shake and tried again. This time a tiny red energy blade shot forward.

  “Can I borrow your visor?”

  Milo passed his glasses to her. Covering her eyes, she plunged the tip of the torch into the grill on the other side of the lock. As she sliced through the metal, sparks rained down on her and acrid smoke began filling the pipe. Pushing her breathing mask over her mouth again, she slid the torch across the back of the lock and, with a crash, the grill clattered open.

  Lina slipped the torch back into her belt and jumped down onto a small ledge that ran along the side of the sewer.

  “Here, take this,” Milo said, passing the silver box down to her before scrambling out of the pipe himself. Faint sunlight was streaming through grates in the ceiling high above. The sun was going down. They needed to move. It wouldn’t be long before IG-70 and Rom came after them.

  “There’s some stairs,” Milo said, edging his way along the ledge toward a ladder set into the brickwork. Lina followed, careful not to drop the silver box. She just hoped that Shalla was waiting for them up on the street.

  Outside Twin Horns Storage, Shalla sat back on her speeder bike, stroking Morq’s head. Something was wrong. The plan had been clear. Set off the alarm and grab the droid’s head while everyone was outside. Then the children were supposed to return to the container and hide again. Shalla would barge into the reception, making a fuss that there had been an alarm and demanding her beetles back immediately. She’d walk out with the children safely hidden beneath the bugs. Simple.

  But a second alarm had sent Odai and his henchmen running back into the building. Had the children been discovered?

  Morq let out a worried squeal as the Mon Calamari reappeared through the warehouse doors. He was shouting, telling his goons to “get them!” Shalla didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. The Rodian and the assassin droid rushed around the side of the building with their weapons drawn.

  Shalla backed her speeder into the shadows. Her fingers clenched around Morq’s mane in frustration. The monkey-lizard yelped in pain as Shalla’s lips drew back in a snarl.

  Where were those kids?

  IN A DESERTED Lothal alleyway, Milo pushed aside a drain cover and climbed out. He turned around, reaching back down into the shaft to take the box containing CR-8R’s head from his sister.

  “Any sign of them?” Lina said as she pulled herself up into the alley.

  Milo looked around. “Not yet, but they can’t be far behind.”

  Just then, they heard the sound of running feet and the stomping of a heavy droid.

  Milo grabbed Lina’s hand and pulled her in the opposite direction.

  “How are we going to find Shalla?” she said, chasing after him.

  “We’ll work that out when we’re safe,” Milo called.

  “As if we’re ever safe these days,” Lina said with a sigh.

  They made it to the end of the alleyway just as a speeder bike slid across the exit.

  “Whoa!” Milo shouted as he almost crashed into the bike. “Watch it, Shalla!”

  But it wasn’t Shalla. The rider was a man with long brown hair and a full beard. The children took one look at him and turned around. But they were cut off by the silhouettes of Rom and IG-70 at the other end of the narrow lane.

  They were trapped—again!

  “Stay where you are!” the assassin droid boomed, taking a step into the alleyway.

  “Yeah, where you are!” Rom repeated unhelpfully.

  Milo squeezed his sister’s hand. The guy on the speeder must have worked for Odai, too. They were cornered!
<
br />   “What are you waiting for?” the bearded man said. “Get on!”

  Beside Milo, Lina turned around to face the speeder bike. “We haven’t done anything wrong. Your boss stole Crater’s head from us, remember!”

  “My boss?” The man looked confused. “Don’t you two want to be rescued?”

  Milo’s head snapped around. “Rescued?”

  “Get on the bike!” the man said.

  Milo’s eyes went wide. There was something about the voice that he recognized, something familiar.

  “You’re the guy from the transmissions!”

  “Yes, I am,” the man said. “And if we don’t move soon, I may never be able to make a transmission again!”

  Milo raced forward, breaking Lina’s hold on his hand. She paused but ran to the speeder bike as IG-70 shouted after them.

  “You will wait!”

  “No, we won’t!” Milo yelled, jumping onto the bike as Lina climbed on behind him.

  IG-70 was already shooting as the children’s mysterious savior opened the throttle. The speeder bike shot forward, kicking up dust.

  After weaving around buildings, the speeder bike finally came to a halt outside a nondescript building similar to the dozens they had already passed.

  “Here we are,” the man said, killing the bike’s engine.

  “We don’t even know your name,” Milo pointed out as he slid off the speeder.

  “Inside,” was the only reply as their rescuer swiped an ID card through a reader on the wall, opening a set of double doors.

  Milo glanced at Lina, who shrugged. Neither of them knew if they should trust this guy. He turned back and sighed.

  “Look, we can help you, but it isn’t safe being on the streets right now. We need to get inside,” he said.

  “We?” Lina asked.

  “Ephraim?” came a friendly but concerned female voice from inside.

  “Don’t worry, it’s me,” Ephraim replied. He nodded at Milo and Lina. “And I brought guests.”

  A woman appeared at the door. She was smaller than Ephraim and wore a purple headdress that matched her eyes.

  “You found them,” she said, beckoning to the children. “Come inside quickly.”

  Realizing they didn’t have much choice, Milo led the way, still holding the box.

  “We’ve been so worried about you,” the woman said as Lina crossed the threshold, followed by Ephraim. The door closed behind him.

  “You know who we are?” Lina asked.

  “You were seen asking questions at the landing strip,” Ephraim explained, locking the door behind him. “It’s just a pity you asked Cikatro Vizago.”

  “We’ve been following your signal, all the way from Thune,” Lina told him.

  Ephraim smiled. “It’s reached that far, eh?”

  Words spilled out of Milo’s mouth. “Our parents were taken and we didn’t know what to do, and then we heard your voice, and—”

  “Hush, now,” the woman said, walking to a table. “There’s plenty of time for all that. Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink?”

  Before they could answer, Milo heard a high-pitched giggle. It came from a cot on the other side of the room.

  “You’ve got a baby!” he said, rushing over to see without asking.

  “Milo!” Lina warned, but Ephraim laughed.

  “It’s fine. That’s our son—Ezra.”

  Milo looked into the cot to see a chubby infant gazing up at him with big blue eyes. He had a mop of black hair and reached up with a pudgy arm.

  Milo reached down and the baby wrapped a tiny hand around his finger. “He’s cute.”

  “When he’s not screaming his lungs out,” the woman said with a laugh, joining them beside the crib. “My name’s Mira, and you’ve already met my husband, Ephraim.”

  The bearded man held out his hand to Milo. “Ephraim Bridger. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Sounds like you two have been through a lot.”

  Mira guided them toward the table and poured glasses of cold blue milk while they told their story.

  “And your droid’s head is in the box?” Ephraim asked when they’d finished recounting their narrow escape from Odai’s lair.

  Lina opened the box to remove CR-8R’s head, gently stroking the droid’s dormant face. “And our parents’ secrets are in his head.”

  “If we’d known what you were getting into, we would have made contact sooner,” Mira said sadly.

  “But we had to be sure,” Ephraim added. “We’ve been hearing more and more stories like yours—people being taken by Imperial forces and entire families disappearing.”

  “That’s the reason we started our broadcasts,” Mira told them. “To spread hope in these dark times. It was all we could think to do.”

  “And it worked,” Lina said. “For us, at least. We followed your signal here.”

  “Because you hoped we could help track your parents?” Mira asked.

  “Can you?” Lina asked.

  The Bridgers looked at each other.

  “It may not be as simple as that,” Ephraim said.

  “Why?”

  “Show them,” Mira said, placing a hand on her husband’s arm.

  Ephraim nodded and walked over to a circular couch in the corner. He pushed it aside to reveal an open hatch in the floor.

  “You’ll want to see this,” he said, sitting on the edge of the hole and lowering himself onto a ladder. Milo and Lina crossed over to the hatch and looked down the deep shaft. Ephraim had reached the bottom. Milo didn’t wait. Quickly, he climbed down.

  “Wow!” he said, finding himself in a hidden room packed with communication equipment. “Is this where you make the broadcasts?”

  “And where we monitor Imperial channels, too,” Ephraim confirmed, sitting in front of a large transmitter as Lina joined them. “The reason we were so careful is that we’ve heard that a bounty hunter is on Lothal.” He pressed a control and a hologram appeared above the transmitter. It showed a masked figure. Its glowing eyes seemed to bore straight into Milo.

  “Is that him?” Lina asked.

  “He calls himself the Shade,” Ephraim replied. “No one knows what his face looks like behind the mask. We don’t even know what’s brought him to Lothal, other than it’s something big. To be honest, we thought it might be us, but now that we know about your droid…”

  “You think the Shade’s looking for Mom and Dad’s data?” Lina said.

  “It’s possible,” Ephraim said. “I think we’d better get you off the planet.”

  “But we just got here,” Milo said. “We need your help.”

  “We will help you,” Mira reassured them. “We can ask around about your parents, but you’ll be safer somewhere else, where the Shade can’t find you.”

  “Can you tell us anything else about him?” Lina asked.

  Ephraim looked doubtful. “The Shade? There isn’t much to tell, other than the fact that he’s one of the most dangerous bounty hunters in the Outer Rim. There was something the other day, though.” He continued working the controls, scrolling through files on a screen. “A deep-space camera picked up an image that could potentially be the Shade’s ship, heading this way from Kessel.”

  “From Kessel?” Lina asked, frowning.

  Ephraim nodded. “The spice mine planet.” He found what he was looking for. “Here it is.”

  He pressed a button and the hologram changed. The Shade was replaced by a blurry picture of a speeding freighter in space.

  Milo felt his stomach drop.

  “What is it?” Ephraim asked, noticing that the color had drained from Milo’s face. “Do you recognize the ship?”

  Milo’s mouth was dry and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Yeah, I do.” He turned to his sister. “Lina, isn’t that the Moveable Feast?”

  AT TWIN HORNS STORAGE, Cikatro Vizago was getting tired of Odai yelling at him.

  “Where are they?” Rask Odai ranted. “How long could it poss
ibly take to find two children?”

  “I’m on this, okay?” Vizago said, holding a communicator to his lips. “Rom? IG-70? Come in, please. The boss wants a word!”

  “A word? I just want my head back!” Odai snapped.

  “Sounds like you’re losing your head to me,” Vizago muttered under his breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing, boss,” the Devaronian said, talking into the communicator again. “Rom! IG-70! Where are you?”

  “Cikatro Vizago,” a woman said. The horned alien turned to see Shalla Mondatha strolling into the warehouse.

  He tried to wave the woman away. “Not now, okay? Your bugs are safe, but we’re closed.” He turned his back on her and called for Rom and IG-70 one last time.

  “I don’t think they can hear you,” Shalla said, and Vizago jumped as something heavy thudded at his feet. A tall cylinder rolled across the floor, coming to rest in front of him.

  It was IG-70’s mechanical head with scorched wires hanging from its neck.

  Vizago spun around to find Shalla pointing an energy bow in his direction.

  “Where are the children?” she said.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Odai raged beside Vizago. He was not used to having his henchman threatened in their establishment.

  “Asking a question,” Shalla replied coolly. “A question I asked your Rodian and assassin droid a few minutes ago. They answered incorrectly. I suggest you tell me what I want to know.”

  “And what’s that?” Vizago asked, wondering how quickly he could draw Vilmarh’s Revenge.

  “The man on the speeder bike, the one who took the children—who is he?” Shalla asked.

  “We have no idea what you’re talking about!” Odai gurgled.

  “Wrong answer,” Shalla said, swinging her bow around to shoot one of the golden droids behind the front desk. It exploded in a shower of sparks.

  Her weapon was pointing at Vizago again in the blink of an eye.

  “We want to find those kids as much as you do,” the Devaronian said. He narrowed his eyes. “Unless…you know something about the robbery!”