1st place: Star Wars Fanfiction Awards
Luke Skywalker is turning 8 in just a few days on Empire Day. Unfortunately, the Empire has ordered a galaxy-wide census on Empire Day. Instead of heading to the pod races, like his Uncle Owen had promised him...
Luke hung on for dear life as his Uncle Owen raced his yellow V-35 Courier landspeeder across the desert. The V-shaped nose and three repulsorlift engines reverberated over the desolate wasteland.
Squeezed beside Owen in the tight cockpit, Beru clutched Luke's legs. Even though Uncle Owen had insisted on strapping in Luke like cargo, the boy was still able to tilt to the left and right as his uncle maneuvered the speeder around the rocky outcroppings of the desert.
The stocky moisture farmer pulled the speeder to a halt on a cliff above the city. "Mos Eisley Spaceport."
The small boy peered over the edge of the speeder, seeing the city for the first time in his life. Look at the size of that thing! White buildings with thick walls crowded against each other. Spacecraft landed and launched from the spaceport.
The farmer boy raised his macrobinoculars to watch as another craft approached—a Lambda-class Imperial shuttle. All white with two angled wings and a vertical stabilizer, the craft was the most beautiful thing Luke had ever seen.
Wonder who's on that shuttle. Only the high-ranking officers get those.
He inhaled as he followed the shuttle's graceful approach to the spaceport. Luke slipped into a daydream for a minute, pretending he was the pilot shuttling that very important officer to Mos Eisley.
Uncle Owen startled him out of his fantasy. "Luke, remember, no wandering off. Stay close to your aunt and me at all times. And keep your mouth shut. Do you hear me?" He emphasized this request with a chunky finger pointed right at Luke's eyes.
"Yes, Uncle."
"If you're good, we'll stop by the spaceport to look at some of the ships before we head home."
Luke's bright smile quickly changed to a deep frown. Yeah, right, you never keep your promises.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As they waited in line under the twin hot suns, the sweat evaporated quickly. Even though it was still early morning, the temperature had already risen above thirty degrees. Their lips cracked, and their skin baked under the broiling glare.
The queue snaked around the landspeeders jamming the side streets. While the line moved quickly, not even tall Owen could identify the census location. The herd of humanoids moved a meter at a time, shuffling along in order.
The white armor of the Imperial Stormtroopers gleamed in the brutal sunlight while they held their rifle blasters across their chests and monitored the queue.
Luke wiped the sweat from his brow. They must be broiling in that armor.
The soldiers maintained silence in the line. Those who complained about the heat or stepped out of line for any reason were disciplined with a blaster butt to their stomachs. It only took one example for the group to maintain silence.
