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Davin turned to see one of the largest men he had ever seen in his life standing just outside the door. Dressed in antigrav shoes, black shorts, a white skin-shirt, and wearing the ominous white helmet of an Imperial stormtrooper, the man looked like a massive pillar. He pointed at the bag of food. His voice had a tinny sound as it came over the speakers implanted in the side of the battle helmet.

“Your caloric intake is strictly regulated—whose contraband food is that?”

Davin heard Geoff gulp; from what he’d said, he couldn’t afford to get caught. But no one had told him it was contraband! He spoke up. “It’s mine.”

The stormtrooper turned to face Davin. “You are new here.”

“That’s right.”

“The correct response is ‘yes, sir.’ You will learn—or you will fail. Consider that your only warning.” He smashed the bag with his foot, then turned to include the other two. “You sand slime have two minutes to change into your physical training gear and get out here with the rest of your squad—or your butt is mine. Now move!”

The three Imperial recruits scrambled over each other as clothing flew across the room.

“Thanks, Davin,” Geoff gasped out as he struggled into a coverall.

Davin could only grunt as he hopped on one foot; he attempted to pull on thigh-high running boots. Despite the hectic pace, the next two minutes were Davin’s last chance to relax during the six months of training.

Fifteen pounds lighter but immeasurably stronger, Davin adjusted to the breakneck training routine. The recruits spent less than five hours a night in their room, falling exhausted to sleep after day upon day of relentless training: physical fitness runs, daily expeditions via suborbital transport to the southern ice fields for winter training, a week-long expedition to the barren Forgofshar Desert for survival training, a three-day battle against nature in the equatorial rain forest … Davin soon lost track of the days.

He and his roommates soon learned to get up before their “wake-up call” came in the morning, when their Imperial stormtrooper sergeant would kick open their door and blast his sonic whistle. Davin would wake up a good half hour before reveille. He and the others would scurry about the small dorm room, cleaning and dressing, only to hop beneath their sheets for the early-morning wake-up ritual—they had seen what happened to the other recruits when they were caught out of their bunks before reveille.

Running out into the hallway, Davin would snap to attention, waiting to hear what the expedition of the day would entail. He never knew where he might be sent.

It was the morning Davin was in place in the hallway nearly thirty seconds before the others that changed his life. It didn’t start out with a fanfare, simply: “Davin, drive your butt over to the AT-AT detachment at the end of the hall. The rest of you sandworms fall in for inspection!”

As the rest of his squad stood at attention, Geoff punched him in the side and whispered, “Good luck, hotshot—we’re going to miss you!”

Davin didn’t have time to answer, as the Imperial trooper in charge of the AT-AT detachment was already yelling for Davin to hurry up. “Twenty more seconds and we’ll drop you off in a reactor core!”

Davin joined the group of recruits at the end of the hall; he recognized several of his classmates as those who had consistently finished near the top of the class with him. They exchanged glances with one another, but they were much too sharp to speak and bring down the wrath of their drill instructor.

Lining up, they were marched out of the dorm area to the parade field. Glass and syngranite buildings soared above their heads; the parade field was surrounded by ultramodern buildings. Dozens of robot observer eyes hovered overhead, keeping watch over the military base. Situated in the middle of the circle of classroom buildings, a sleek executive transport ship squatted on the grass, its door open for boarding. The recruits were hurried in as the all-clear