Chapter 36AE
'Late Night TV'
'The Force Choke Across the Airwaves'
'Triumph at the Cave'
'Full of Metal Braces'
'Camp Song: ADOY, ADOY… Oi Oi Oi'
'The Power of Almost'
It has been a busy week for the Dark Lord. A few days have passed since sending out the copies of the Geonosis Peace Treaty to the Galactic Senate. Anakin spends some leisure time at home in his den as a reward for a hard days'work. He is chatting with Lando Calrissian on the plasma. He has just won 75,000 credits in the late night pod race. He sits at his desk eating a sandwich. Lando has lost 5,000 credits but he takes the loss like the pro that he is. He is reflective about it.
"Anakin, I think I'm gonna stop betting. I'm losing my shirt."
"I think perhaps you should, because lately, you suck! You haven't made a good bet all month."
"If I stop, then who can I cry to?"
"True."
"I'm switching the channel. Watching that instant replay is depressing."
"Hah!"
Lando points his remote to his own plasma. He is still visible on Anakin's plasma screen as he surfs for something to watch.
"Over a thousand channels and not a damned thing worth watching…"
Anakin leans over his plate and takes another bite of his sandwich. He has a visitor hoping to partake in the delectable meal. Anakin ignores the beggar and laughs at Lando's complaining.
"That's why I don't watch anything else." Anakin finally glances down at the little beggar. Skippy inches close to Anakin's chair and whines. "Skippy…cut it out. Don't try it, you're not getting any."
Lando lowers his remote and stares at his screen. There is a stunned expression on his face, much worse than the expression he had after losing his wager on the last race.
"Uhmmm….Anakin…"
Anakin is enjoying his sandwich and barely notices the change of tone in Lando's voice. He continues to ignore Skippy, who has not given up in his attempt to get a morsel from his master's plate. Anakin is an immaculate diner; nothing spills onto the floor. The little dog stares longingly, hoping that something good comes his way. He decides to impress his master by performing a few of his best tricks. Alas, after all of his efforts, it is Lando who gets the attention of the Dark Lord. Anakin looks up at the plasma screen. His mouth is full.
"Whut?"
Lando speaks slowly but with great urgency.
"I think you ought to watch this…"
Anakin is still chewing. He picks up his napkin and sits up in his chair.
"Watch whut?"
"This HoloNet News Special."
Anakin does not bother with the remote when he can wave his hand in front of the screen. He thinks he is going to tune in to some hilarious antics by the referees at a grav-ball game. Instead, he sees HoloNet journalist Ultana Anya on the screen. He laughs and rolls his eyes.
"Why? What whacko basket case is she interviewing tonight? Hahaha!"
Ultana asks a question to her unseen guest.
"So, you are alleging elder abuse?"
A pitiful-sounding voice responds. Anakin is still amused…so far.
"It happened. Just recently, he dragged me into a confessional…see? I still have the marks on my neck to prove it." The alleged victim opens the collar of his white TaggeMart shirt.
Anakin stops chewing. He is no longer amused when the camera turns to a forlorn-looking Palpatine. Ultana Anya continues to question the old man. A viewer counter display crawls across the bottom of the screen. Only a few hundred people are watching.
"So you are accusing the Commander of the Galactic Military of abusing you on more than one occasion?"
"Oh, yes. He has always had anger management issues. He threw me down a reactor shaft over thirty years ago. He put me in a senior care center and abandoned me."
The ticker count jumps to several hundred thousand.
"How does that make you feel, Mr. Palpatine?"
"Useless, sad, terrorized, unloved..."
The ticker count increases to several hundred million viewers.
"Do you blame the dark side for his behavior?"
"Perhaps, but I begged him to get help. I never would have thought he would…it's…it's too heartbreaking…"
Ultana hands him a box of extra absorbent tissues.
"If this is too much for you, I can stop the cameras…"
Neither of them wants the cameras to stop. Ultana is starving for a ratings boost. The results are encouraging. The ticker count jumps to several billion. Palpatine blinks a few times to generate some tears.
"No…no…I think I can manage." He pretends to compose himself then places his hand to his heart. "He showed so much promise but now, he is destroying the family. His youngest daughter no longer speaks to him; and the youngest boy has been banished to a work camp…somewhere on Geonosis, I believe."
"And you would like us to believe this? Weren't you once the emperor who committed atrocities across the galaxy?"
"It was not one of my proudest moments. A horrible being misled me in my youth. I have learned the error of my ways. I have seen the light. I hope that Anakin will too."
"So, you have turned your back on the dark side?"
"I have. Not many people know this, but I have donated my time to helping others. Why, this past spring, I used my modest earnings as a TaggeMart Senior Greeter, to provide uniforms and a playfield for the peewee smashball team. Go Tags!"
"That is wonderful. Mr. Palpatine, If you could say anything to your son, what would it be?"
Palpatine straightens his collar and red TaggeMart vest. He looks directly into the camera with a withered, tearstained face.
"Anakin, don't betray your family. Don't let your anger kill the ones you supposedly love...There is still hope."
Lando's mouth drops open. He finally is able to speak as he watches this performance. Skippy barks loudly at the plasma screen. There is a great disturbance in the Force. Billions of viewers watched their plasma screens as voices suddenly cried out in shock and then were suddenly silenced. Something outrageous has happened.
"Awwww…man! What the 'eff'…Do you believe this geezer? He has a captive audience! This guy is unstoppable! Hey, Anakin! Anakin?"
Anakin is no longer at his desk. He has been quietly fuming during the entire interview. Lando takes a panoramic view around the room from his monitor. No one is there.
Anakin is on the terrace pacing in the dark. Isabel stands in the doorway of the dayroom. She flips on the lights to the terrace and pleads with him not to drive to the HoloNet Studios.
Meanwhile, Palpatine is still talking but it is not long before he reaches for his throat and writhes wildly in the chair. His face turns blue. Suddenly the airwaves go black and a message crawls across the screen in billions of households across the galaxy:
'We apologize for this program interruption. We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please Stand By.'
Back at the house, Anakin takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair. Isabel is still standing in the doorway. A gentle breeze blows across the terrace garden. Ana-Lena races downstairs and stands behind her mother.
"This is so embarrassing; I'm ready to murder the lying old fart if Daddy won't do it. He never bought uniforms for those kids!"
"Ana-Lena, this is not the time. Your father has things under control."
"Really? I don't think so, Mum."
Isabel watches her husband. She is being the understanding wife.
"Are you alright?"
Anakin turns to his wife. He looks calm…almost serene.
"I feel much better now. What's for dessert?" He puts his arms around his wife and daughter as they go back inside the house.
Lando, meanwhile, checks in from his monitor to view Anakin's den. The dark lord is not there. Skippy, however is there. The dog hops in the chair and jumps onto the desk enjoying what is left of the roast shaak and Corellian cheese sub. He gulps down the lettuce, pickles and tomato then licks the plate clean. He rinses it down with a glass of ale he finds next to the plate.
Back at HoloNet Studios, several ambulance attendants load two stretchers onto separate vehicles. Palpatine wears a neck collar, head block, and straps to immobilize him. Ultana is on the second stretcher; her intern Nate is at her side. She yells at the emergency medical team and her assistant.
"Ice packs! Ice packs! Cover my face! I don't want anyone to see me like this, you idiot! Where's Simon my assistant?"
"He resigned last week, remember? Looks like it's just me and you, Boss."
"Shut up and get more ice! I'm melting! I'm melting! Oh, what a world! How do I look?"
Ultana's face is inflamed with welts at her accu-botox injection points. Nate lies to her.
"A little puffy…slightly puffy…you'll be fine."
The intern's phone rings. He stops as Ultana is about to be loaded into the ambulance.
"Hello? Yes? We're heading to the hospital now…what? Well, let's just say, she has seen better days…She's under ice…lots of it…you do? Really? It's…it's…unbelievable…she's right here." He places his hand over the phone as he speaks to Ultana. He forgets that Reddenfield can hear everything they say. "Ultana, guess what? It's Wes Reddenfield."
"Who?"
"You know…the one you consider unworthy of your presence…"
Ultana goes into a furious rant.
"It's that backstabbing boss of mine? You tell Wes if he's about to fire me, he has another thing coming. Give me that phone! I'll tell him myself!" She holds one of the icepacks to her face as she grabs the phone. She shoves the paramedic away as he tries to take her blood pressure. "Get away from me you med school failure!" She changes her tone as she speaks into the telephone. "Wes, dawling, listen, this is just a temporary setback. This was not my fault… He demanded to speak on live holovid…I had no idea what he was going to say…what? You did? We are? I'll be fine…I'll just get to make-up a few hours early tomorrow…what? We'll interview him from his hospital bed… Oh course I'm up for it! I'm a professional! I'm the face the galaxy trusts every night at 9pm Core-Worlds Time and 6pm Mid-Rim Time. I'll be ready for my close-up." Ultana yells for her intern who is just beside her. "Nate, you moron, make sure to prep that old coot for a follow-up bedside interview at the hospital!"
HoloNet President and Chief Executive Officer Wes Reddenfield is thrilled about their ratings numbers. They do not beat the Pod racing channel ratings but they do gain an eight share for the time slot. Ultana has not accomplished this for the past five seasons.
Palpatine arrives at the Emergency Department at Coruscant University Hospital. Two burly orderlies wheel the old man to an exam station. They have been watching the Ultana Anya holovid special in the break room when the screen goes dark. Tomo, the first orderly reads Palpatine's chart.
Tiny, is the second orderly. He is disappointed that the HoloNet airwaves are down for the night and now he has to tend to patients. He moves his face close to the old man.
"So you're the famous old guy from TV tonight. We're gonna take care of you real good."
"What exactly do you mean?"
The orderlies break into menacing laughter.
'Camp Perlote'
Across the galaxy, before the mayhem on Coruscant, Kris is learning new skills. Camp Perlote is a boys' camp set along Lake Paonga deep in the Gallo Mountains of Naboo. The camp is comprised mostly of 10 to 12-year olds. It is an Axis to Performance program called CORE: Courage-Outreach-Relationship-Experience. There are plaques across the facility with words of encouragement and values to which to strive. Kris remembers the motto at the camps entrance with an engraved wooden sign: 'The Deepest Commitment, The Most Serious Mind.'
Kris knows he has heard this quote before. It was probably in school. Luke stands at the gate with him. Kris wanted his oldest brother to accompany him to orientation. Luke places his arm around his little brother.
"In you must go, pal."
"But…why can't you stay for a bit?"
"It's something you have to do on your own. I can't go with you. You can do this…I have faith in you."
"I'm afraid, Luke."
"I know…" Luke hands Kris the rucksack that he had been carrying for him. A valet droid drives a luggage trolley with Kris' gear up a side road into the camp.
"Are you going to come for me when I'm done?"
"Don't worry about that now…off you go."
Kris walks pass the great archway beneath the sign. He waves goodbye to Luke. One of the counselors greets Kris and leads him to the registration table. The counselor has a friendly smile as he hands Kris a badge and his cabin papers. Kris turns to look for Luke at the gate. Luke is gone. Kris is lead up the path to his cabin. He wants to cry but manages to be brave.
After enduring a scathing barrage of insults since their arrival by both the camp director/drill sergeant and counselors, the boys set off on their first solo mission. As the crazed sergeant berates the boys, Kris ponders what his summer would have been like had he not brutally injured Admiral Zaarin. He could have been at the beach on Kashyyyk, surfing or windsailing with his friends Boone, Mags, and Sieglinde. It would have been the best summer ever; the clean sea breeze blowing through his hair and eating grilled fish on a stick. Instead, he is tethered to his three pathetic bunkmates for the better part of the summer.
The director is a former drill sergeant with the Imperial Army under the former empire. After the overthrow of Palpatine, the military was purged of many of its officers. Some were issued a severance package and forced into retirement. The severance was not enough for some to transition comfortably into their golden years. Many took jobs in prisons or reform schools for sith apprentices and delinquents, others chose summer camp. The camp jobs were the choice jobs if you can tolerate children 10 hours a day for an entire summer.
The first day of camp leads Kris to write his urgent letter home. It is the day he meets his cabin mates. It is also the day he meets the man who could make his summer a living hell: Former Drill Sergeant Hartley Kveldulf Gunderson.
The tall, stern-looking camp director has a battle-weary face with bushy greying eyebrows that resemble hairy caterpillars moving across his forehead. He has a full head of hair, which he keeps covered with a pith helmet. The weather is a balmy 30 degrees Celsius but he is in full battle fatigues and boots.
Corporal Otto Hasse accompanies Gunderson. Otto is Gunderson's obedient assistant who mimics his commander's attire. Otto is short and slight-built man in his 30's. He reminds Kris of a round-faced Lieutenant Daine Jir. Corporal Hasse tries to keep up with Gunderson who is 'inspecting' the young campers. Gunderson finally speaks.
"Listen up, ladies! We are going to dispense with the niceties because it is a lousy morning for me and it promises to be a worst morning for you! Let me introduce myself. I am Camp Director Sergeant Hartley Kveldulf Gunderson. The founder of this fine facility enlisted my services to train you whiners. You will meet him on closing day. Okay, here are the rules: From now on, you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and last words out of your pie holes will be "Sir". Do you grain maggots understand that?"
There is an uneven and almost inaudible response.
"Sir, yes Sir."
"What is this bantha fodder? I can't hear you. You ladies playing 'Whisper down the Lane'? Sound off like you got a pair!"
Milo whispers to Brandon.
"A pair of what?"
Gunderson stares down the first row of campers.
"Do you know why you're here?"
Milo starts to raise his hand. Brandon quickly forces his hand down and rolls his eyes. Gunderson continues his introduction.
"You are here for various reasons, but overall, you are here because your mommy and daddy don't know what else to do with you. Hell, it could be their fault! Too much coddling does not build character…and if it is not their fault, it means you are a bad seed! Spawn of Satan or the Sith Lord himself! I can do a lot but I am not a magician! The only thing to do with a Sith is to crush him like a lava beetle. Obviously, you sorry little maggots are redeemable or you wouldn't be here… yes, there is hope for all of you; the puny ones, the ones who don't give a hoot, and the chubby ones too!" He glances at Milo and Vern then shakes his head in disgust.
"God help us! My job is to drive some character into you so you can be a lean, mean fighting machine—! "Otto quietly interrupts him and whispers in his ear. Gunderson nods then continues. "Small revision! It turns out that my ultimate goal is to turn you into productive citizens so your parents don't have you living with them for the rest of their lives doing your laundry and making Ewok-shaped pancakes with their retirement grocery money so you can sit up in your room playing hologames on your E-pads!"
The director takes a few steps back and shakes Kris out of his pleasant Kashyyyk daydream.
"Am I keeping you from your beauty sleep, Skywalker?"
"Yes, sir…I mean, no, sir...sir"
"You must think you're pretty damned special down here. Your daddy worried you couldn't hack it in a work camp? Well don't get too comfy, boy, cause when I'm through with you, you're gonna think you were in work camp. Yeah, I know who your daddy is. He don't scare me none!"
The camp counselors snicker as Gunderson harangues the young campers. Gunderson has the hearing of a varactyl and quickly turns to the group of counselors.
"Is there something amusing about me, counselor?"
"SIR, NO SIR!"
"I thought not. For a moment, I thought you were making light of my leadership skills. You making fun of me, surfer boy? Do I amuse you?"
"SIR, NO SIR!"
"What sort of an example are you setting for these young impressionable tots, Counselor surfer boy?"
"Not a good one, Sir."
"Shut up, Counselor Surfer. You know why you're here? Your mommy and Daddy wasted their hard-earned money so you could study at one of the finest educational institutions in the galaxy, but you wanted to get a suntan instead. A suntan don't get you an 'A'plus, Counselor Surfer. There are no degrees for hanging ten; but since your daddy pays so much money to that school of yours, the dean decided to give you a reprieve. You get to pass your Junior year by spending it here with me, shaping young minds. You had better hope these boys do not fail, Counselor Surfer. 'Cause if they fail…YOU FAIL!"
"That won't happen, SIR!"
The blonde counselor manages to stop smiling. Vern cannot restrain himself from giggling. He quickly covers his mouth. The counselor sneers at Vern as soon as Gunderson turns away.
The camp counselors are college students who seem to enjoy watching the drill sergeant torment the adolescents. The counselors stand in a line, hands folded behind, dressed in their crisp white polo shirts adorn with a lanyard attached to a whistle, a nametag. They wear bright red cargo shorts, and hiking sandals. They are all beach boy handsome. Each counselor specializes in various sports and crafts such as karate, speeder bike races kite making, archery, and sailing.
Johnny, the karate instructor is blond, tall, and athletic type with a slight sadistic bend. There are fifteen other counselors who are a lot like Johnny. Most of these counselors would rather be enjoying a summer of leisure as well. Unfortunately, low grades land them at Camp Pelote. One 'successful' summer camp tour of duty equals a passing grade.
Kris and his cabin mates have the misfortune of getting Johnny. Each of the counselors gets to rename the cabin for each group of boys. Cabin 'A' is renamed 'Snack Beetles', Cabin 'B' is renamed 'Gumfish.' Kris figures he would rather be a gumfish than one of the 'Grain Maggots', which is what one of the counselors dubs Cabin 'C'. The names get worse when they get to Cabin 'H'.
Kris and Brandon get the dubious honor of nailing their new banner above the Cabin 'B' doorframe. He could live with the name, it was the actual dead fish that they are forced to nail onto the banner. The rotting fish attracts Dekk flies. The buzzing at night was enough to wake the dead. Kris covers his head with a pillow to drown out the noise and packs his nostrils with menthol liniment to ward off the stench of the rotting fish. As an additional insult to his dignity, each boy is given a new name. The boys of 'Gumfish Cabin B' are: Sea Hog, Whitefang, Goggles, and Fieldhopper
Kris and his cabin mates set out on a spelunking expedition. At least it beats digging holes under the scorching sun.
Kris carries a map. It was a unanimous decision by the cabin mates since Kris is the only one willing to take the lead into the woods. Brandon did not care one way or the other. Two of the boys, Milo and Vern, are carrying on a conversation before arriving at the cave. Milo is the smallest boy in the group. He is skinny, with thick dark hair, the bangs fall over his round eyeglasses. On the day of orientation, the counselors take great joy in taunting the new arrivals. They immediately zero in on Milo: 'Oh, look! It's the skinny, worried kid we ordered!'
Vern is taller and doughy with short light brown hair and freckles. From his appearance; Vern clearly has not missed any meals but constantly complains of hunger. He is the jokester of the group. Milo, on the other hand, is intelligent and a born worrier. Both boys are easily frightened.
The four boys have walked through the woods for an hour. It is warm and a couple of the boys are getting bored. Vern grabs a twig and drags it along the dirt path.
"You think a sarlacc could beat up Boga?"
Milo stares at Vern in disbelief.
"What are you, cracked?"
"Why not? I saw the other day on 'Wild Sarlacc Adventures.' It was carrying 5 Jawas in one tentacle."
"Boy, you don't know crap'. A sarlacc is attached to the sand, Boga can fly, no way could a root creature beat up a flying varactyl. Boga would be stupid to jump into a sand pit with a sarlacc."
"Yeah, I guess you're right… Boga can fly? Okay, what about a nexu and a krayt dragon?"
"Nexu…no question. Krayt dragons have terrible peripheral vision; a nexu would strike him down in a second."
"Gee whiz, Milo, you could be a contestant on one of those quiz shows. You explain things really well."
Brandon yells at them after observing Kris slowing down. Brandon is tough and never stands down when confronted. He has been a more fights than he cares to admit. He earns the name 'Whitefang' during a karate demonstration when Johnny tried to make an example of him by flipping Brandon onto his back. Brandon did not appreciate being used as a duffle bag. While Johnny is places his right foot on the boy's chest, Brandon lurches up and bites Johnny near his big toe. The bite was enough to draw blood. Johnny never challenged him again.
"Hey, ladies, pay attention! I think Kris has found something."
The foursome stop at a dusty path. Several old trees bend ominously across the shadowy entrance to the cave. Kris adjusts his cave helmet and examines the map. He notices the twisted trees with deep, dark grooves in the bark. He has never seen trees such as these. The trees are warm to the touch but the warmth is not from the summer sun rather warm with life. Kris pulls his hand away. He stuffs the map inside the pocket of his cargo shorts. He is afraid of what the cave has is store for them but he does not show his fear.
"Okay, this is it."
Vern nudges him.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Go inside!"
"You go inside."
"You're supposed to be the brave Jedi; you go first."
Kris looks at his three cabin mates and wonders how he was stuck which such a bunch a whiny babies. He musters all of his nerve and forges onward. Vern, Milo, and Brandon glance at one another then slowly follow Kris into the cave. Milo grabs onto Brandon's shirttail. Brandon elbows him.
"Back off, you coward!"
"What if something grabs us?"
"We'll offer you up as a sacrifice. Ahahaha!"
"Gee, thanks, Brandon."
Milo flinches at every strange movement as they enter the cave. Vern looks up at the cave ceiling.
"Is something gonna fall on us? It's kinda damp and creepy in here. The stuff at the top looks like it could drop down and kill us."
Kris rolls his eyes at this remark.
"Don't be a dweeb, they're stalactites. They're harmless, Vern."
"They still look dangerous to me. One of those things could poke your eye out. What's the deal giving us a one flashlight, a backpack full of junk, and no food? We'll never survive in this place. I could use a snack right now. Yeah…a strawberry energy bar sounds good about now…Yum."
Brandon is hungry too, but talking about food makes it worst. He yells at Vern.
"Vern, will you cut it out! Enough with the food talk already! You've got enough fat; if we get stranded out here, we're gonna impale you and eat the fat on you for dinner!"
Kris and Milo cringe.
"Eww! gross!"
Vern taps a stalactite with the twig and laughs. The deposit breaks off and crashes to the cave floor, missing Vern's foot. He picks it up then decides to have fun with it. He taunts Kris.
"Sooo…they never fall down, eh? Your force senses are lousy, man. Ha-ha! Hey, Kris…Kris…guess who this is."
Vern pretends to impale himself in the stomach with the broken stalactite. He makes a crazed facial expression and falls to the floor. The other boys stare at him doing his performance. Brandon rolls his eyes at the stupid performance.
"A bantha at the slaughterhouse?"
"Nah! Qui-Gon Jinn getting it in the gut by Darth Maul! Heh-heh!"
There are a few weak giggles but Kris is not laughing.
"That's not funny. Qui-Gon was a great Jedi who was viciously murdered by a Sith."
"Sorry, man…it was a joke…geez." He tosses the broken stalactite across the cave floor. It lands like a dried bone echoing as it hits the cave wall. "See? It's gone."
Brandon stares at Vern and whispers.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Sorry." He watches as Kris looks for clues in the cave. "Hey, Kris, you should have made them let you take your lightsaber."
"I'm not supposed to use it. This is a test."
"It's no test! It's a trap! Those counselors are trying to scare us. Johnny was laughing at us; calling us gumfish." Vern imitates Johnny Cooha'ki renaming him. 'I dub thee 'fatfish.' Who does he think he is? I wasn't always like this you know. My mom says I need to pull away from the table when I'm full, but that never happens."
Brandon carefully looks around where he is standing.
"Yeah, They are definitely trying to scare us."
Milo whines.
"Well, they're doing a great job. It's dark in here…and cold. Where's that breeze coming from?"
Vern agrees.
"Gee, it sure is cold. Guys, maybe we should turn back. We'll still arrive in time for dinner. Tonight is 'Alderaan Fiesta Night'. I can taste the shaak steak burritos and fish tacos…awh man…" Vern closes his eyes as if he is in a happy trance. Milo nods in agreement.
"The burritos are good but I'm allergic to the fish tacos."
Brandon raises his eyebrows.
"What aren't you allergic to, Milo? It must be a challenge for your mother to feed you."
"My parents have taken me to a dozen doctors. They're all puzzled."
"So are we."
Vern looks around the cave.
"Guys, it's really dark in here.
Kris yells.
"Turn on the flashlight, dummy!"
"Oh, yeah…hahaha! I forgot about that." He reaches in the rucksack to retrieve the flashlight.
Kris is listening for sounds and movements other than his own or of his companions.
"There's something alive down here. Hey, Vern, hand me the flashlight."
Vern is only three feet away from Kris but decides to hurl the flashlight instead. Kris catches it before it falls on the floor of the cave.
"Hey! That was a boneheaded thing to do! You're lucky I have quick reflexes. We would have been in the dark."
"Sorry. See anything? Like a way outta here?"
Kris scans the immediate area but finds nothing of consequence. Suddenly the boys hear a high-pitched screech. Vern turns. Milo and Brandon take two steps back. They look terrified. Milo stammers.
"Wha…what was that?"
Kris cautiously turns the flashlight upwards. Something is moving between the dark spaces of the stalactites. He blinks to refocus. He whispers but his voice echoes throughout the cave system.
"Borgle bats!"
The three other boys panic and scream.
"Bats! Ahhhhhh!"
Kris tries to keep everyone calm.
"Guys! Guys! Shhhhh! Don't run! Stop running!"
It is too late. The loud screaming causes the bat colony to swarm from their roosts causing a gust of wind in the cave. The boys run except for Kris who crouches and covers his ears from the piercing screeches of the creatures. He is not concerned about the bats.
The cave is now quiet. No sign of the bats but he does hear drips of water. He is nervous but tries not to panic. He whispers as he calls to his cabin mates.
"Guys? Where are you? Say something…okay, I'm officially creeped out now…aww man…"
Kris gulps and soldiers on to find a way to the exit. There is no sign of the other boys. He looks down and sees a stream of water weaving between the rocky floors of the cave. He follows the trail and arrives at another tunnel. He stuffs the flashlight in the left pocket of his cargo shorts. The entrance is low so he keeps his head down, stepping around a narrow path, lifting his feet to shimmy between a boulder and the wall. The path soon opens up to another room. He jumps off the rock and continues walking until he senses something or someone blocking his path. His heart starts to pound as he nervously reaches for the flashlight. He does not feel it in his pocket. It must have fallen out when he lifted himself against the boulder. He reaches behind under his shirt as the dark figure closes in on him. Kris pulls out his lightsaber and swings at the figure. The sheath of the lightsaber knocks what appears to be a helmet off the tall figure and the blade shears off a lock of blond hair. Kris is face-to-face with his attacker. The attacker feels the impact of the weapon.
"Ow! Why you little…"
Kris recognizes the voice. He can finally see the face of his attacker. It is Johnny Cooha'ki, the camp karate instructor, the bane of his existence. Kris jumps back.
"Oops!"
"Hey, you're not supposed to have that lightsaber! You cut off my hair! You're in big trouble, kid!"
"So? You're not supposed to terrorize little kids!"
"Why, you…!"
Kris hits the instructor with the sheath of the lightsaber knocking him unconscious. He remembers the flashlight and crawls near the boulder to retrieve it. Johnny is waking up and Kris knows he has to hurry but the flashlight is out of reach. He summons the force to lift the flashlight and grabs it. He scrambles to his feet and runs. He has no idea how to exit the cave but he keeps moving by instinct. Someone speaks to him.
'Kris, slow down; you're moving too fast.'
Kris looks up. He smiles, relieved to see a friendly face. He catches his breath.
"Qui-Gon! Boy, am I sure glad to see you!"
'Your friends abandoned you I see.'
"Yeah…I guess."
'What brings you to these parts?'
"The camp counselors here are crazy. Now, I'm in deep trouble. Camp is supposed to change my attitude."
'Trust me, everything will be alright.'
"Wait, what are you doing here?"
'Just passing through. Don't tell anyone you saw me...especially the big guy.'
"Oh, I won't. I'm supposed to be doing this on my own. I had better get going. I just wish I knew which way to get out of this place."
'You're doing great. Follow the waters of the Whills.'
"I don't know what that is."
'You'll know when you see it.'
"I'm getting fed up with these riddles…Why are you really here?"
'Like I said, just passing through. Kris, you will figure out what you need to know about this cave. Follow the waters.'
The specter of Qui-Gon Gin fades. Kris turns to find a path out of the cave. He hears the droplets of water again as he did when he first entered the cave. The drops land at his feet. He follows the trail that the water makes. It appears as if the water has a mind of its own. He uses the flashlight to get a better look. The water spells out a message:
'Mind what you have learned'
After a few minutes, he sees a light at the end of the cave. He speeds up until he feels a breeze wash across his face. He runs out into the sunlight and stops. What about his friends? Did they really abandon him? What if they are lost somewhere in the cave? What if they safe, back at the camp enjoying a hot meal? He has to go back inside the cave.
He turns and walks against the flow of waters. He searches for clues. There are no footprints. He shines the flashlight against the walls of the cave. Nothing…just rock. He looks up…nothing. He stops and listens for voices. He hears the sound of water droplets again. This time the water travels up the sides of the wall of the cave. The water rains down against the rocks like a waterfall. He sees something. On the other side of the fall, he can see his three cabin mates. They seem powerless to escape the watery glass-like reflection. He touches the transparent shield. Sparks fly from the barrier. He tries kicking through the barrier but it throws him backwards. Kris powers on his lightsaber and thrashes at the impenetrable waterfall. He is exhausted but he continues until he summons all of his power from the force. The lightsaber hits a crack at the very top of the waterfall. Water spurts from the crack in the rock until the waterfall opens causing a tidal wave. Kris is soaked but he looks up from where he has fallen. His friends are free. They help him up and hurry out of the cave.
Everyone cheers once they are outside. Brandon is glad to see Kris. He gives Kris a hearty pat on the back.
"We abandoned you. That was a crumby thing to do."
Vern gives Kris a 'high-five.'
"Yeah, you came back for us. What made you think we were still inside?"
"I sensed it."
"But did you have to drag him out with us?"
Kris looks on the ground at Johnny Cooha'ki, the karate instructor. Johnny has a huge knot on his forehead. He is waking up. Kris smiles.
"Yes; it's the Jedi way."
"Well, he's gonna have to start walking on his own. We're not carrying him…unless you need us to."
Vern is not so forgiving.
"Maybe he'll catch Knowt's Disease and die an excruciating death on the way back. We could beat him with his own bones."
Milo wipes his glasses dry before wearing them again.
"We'd never be that lucky. The statistical chances of him developing such an ailment are 3 in two million. It would be more likely for him to fall over a cliff but even that's unlikely because we would have to drag him to the edge of a mountain and drop him over… and I'm afraid of heights…"
Vern rolls his eyes.
"Okay, okay, professor! We get it."
Brandon stares at Vern.
"What's with your obsession with bones?"
"Nothin'! Geez!"
Kris urges them to move on, as it will be dusk soon.
"Come on; let's go."
When they arrive back at the camp, Sergeant Gunderson watches the boys line up for inspection. Kris steps out of line and scales the cabin. He rips down the banner and the fish. The other campers watch in awe. They are wishing that Kris were with them on their missions. Kris tosses the rotting creature to the ground where Johnny is laying. Johnny wrinkles his nose and wakes up. Kris looks at him.
"You can have your fish back. We're done."
Cabin 'B' is the first to get rid of their horrible banner. Kris is an instant hero. He steps back in line with his bunkmates. They each give him a pat on the shoulder.
Sergeant Gunderson walks up and down the line with his arms akimbo. He has the same scowl on his face since the first day of camp. The four boys wait to be harangued once more by the no-nonsense camp drill sergeant.
Gunderson looks on the ground. Johnny is still lying there, too bruised and exhausted to stand. He feels Gunderson's boot tap his body for signs of life. Gunderson is visibly disgusted with the young counselor.
"What in the hot hell happened to you, counselor Cootie?"
Vern almost bursts into laughter when the sergeant purposely mispronounces Johnny's surname. Brandon gives Vern the 'hairy eyeball' look. Vern finally calms down. Johnny finally answers the sergeant.
"There was an accident at the cave, Sir!"
Gunderson points to Johnny but stares at the boys of Cabin Gumfish.
"You gravel-maggots did this to Instructor Cooha'ki?" He glances back at Johnny. He then scans over all the campers. Still pointing to the counselor, he addresses the crowd. "Listen up you pitiful sand larvae…What happened to counselor Cooha'ki is an example of what a determined little tadpole like young Skywalker here will do when confronted by his adversary. He did not cry like an itty bitty baby. He kicked ass! He gathered his wits, pulled together the saddest little band of soldiers to gain victory. Excellent job, son! You and your silly cohorts get dinner and your mail tonight. Apparently, someone still recognizes you scurriers enough to write you a letter. He whispers to Kris. "Don't get too cocky, Skywalker; summer's not over yet! You're still mine. Dismissed!"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Gunderson discreetly winks at Kris for a job well done.
Johnny finally stands. Gunderson gives Johnny his final orders for the night.
"Counselor, looks like you were bested by a group of soaking wet 12-year olds."
"Yes sir, sergeant!"
"Well, you know what you have to do. Are you tired, counselor?"
"Sir, no sir!"
"Good! It's nineteen hundred hours and forty-five minutes." He looks up at the sky. "The summer sun will be setting soon. Grab a couple of your fellow counselors and get to work."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
Johnny enlists two of his fellow counselors who are upset at having to help him. They fill buckets with soapy water and head over to Cabin 'B'.
Kris and his team return to the cabin to shower and change before heading over to the dining hall.
In the dining hall, Kris and his cabin mates enjoy a late dinner. Vern quips as he is about to bite into a piping hot Chilaquiles:
"Better a late dinner than no dinner! Cheers!"
The boys hold up their soft drink glasses and toast their fearless leader Kris. While they enjoy their meal, one of the counselors approaches the table. His name is Gar Tripper, one of the friendlier counselors. He is the first friendly face Kris encounters upon his arrival at the camp. The boys call him 'Trip' He is funny and affable. He has come to like the young campers, especially the Cabin 'B' Gumfish.
"Okay, heroes, here's your fan mail. Vern, don't eat that in one sitting…" He hands Vern a medium-size box along with a letter.
"How'd you know what's inside?"
"Has to be made of sugar. The bees were buzzing around that box all day. Okay, Brandon, here's a letter for you; Milo…three letters, hum…you're popular today, Smallfish."
Milo beams proudly.
"The third one is from my nana!"
"Sweet, but too much information, Goggles." He checks the mail pouch then looks at Kris. The jokes and small talk end. A look of regret comes over his face. He feels badly for the camp hero. "Uhm…sorry, Skywalker…no mail today. Maybe next time."
Brandon expresses concern and wants Gar to take another look in the mail sack.
"That can't be right. Check again!"
"It's empty as a Sith's bed on prom night, guys."
"You know, mail delivery once a week sucks."
"Hey, tough guy, I don't make the rules…I just break 'em when I can. Bon Appétit!"
Vern has to decide which piece of mail to open first, the letter or the parcel. He opts for the latter and rips it open like a nexu eviscerating its prey.
"Awesome! Snacks!"
Kris is embarrassed that he is the only one not to receive mail from home. Vern and Milo are excited about receiving their mail; Brandon is excited too. Gar decides they do not need him around now that the mail has been distributed.
"Well, ladies, enjoy your dinner. If you're planning to watch the feature holofilm tonight, all the good seats fill up fast; otherwise, see you at zero-six hundred hours tomorrow. Better get your beauty sleep; there's lots to do in the morning."
At that, Gar leaves the dining hall. Brandon barely listens to Gar announce the film title 'Fast Times at Mos Eisley Cantina.' He has waited all summer to see this film and was excited to find out the day has finally come. He thought he would miss it when his father shipped him off to camp, now it is of little interest to him. He feels bad for Kris not receiving any mail. He discreetly signals for Vern and Milo to stop talking about their mail. Kris notices that everyone at the table is suddenly quiet.
"Hey, why so quiet all of a sudden? Aren't you going to open your mail?"
Vern closes his box and stuffs the letter in his pocket.
"It's not so important. My mom's just gonna give me an update about all the rich ladies who come to her salon."
"Well, at least she wrote."
"But you didn't get a letter."
"Hey, remember, my dad is the commander of the Galactic Military. He's a busy man. By the time we get out of here, we'll wonder where the time went. We won't need a letter then. Go ahead and open your mail. Vern, show us what you got in your care package. I know you can't wait."
"You don't mind?"
"Of course not. I've got to think about tomorrow and figure out what stuff the counselors are conjuring up for us to do. I'm going to bed early."
Kris listens while his new friends share their letters with him. He learns about, crazy siblings, family scandals, and wacky neighbors….sounds like home already.
Vera Windu, the cafeteria woman carries a large silver tray to the table.
"I'm so proud of you boys. I heard about what you did. Here's something special for you. Now, I know it's not Friday, but you boys deserve a super sundae. Enjoy."
They thank her. She smiles and gives them a wink before she disappears behind the double doors leading to the kitchen.
After dinner, the boys return to their cabin. They pass up the feature holofilm. It was an exhausting day exploring that creepy cave. The smell of rotting fish has disappeared as they arrive at cabin 'B'. Johnny and his fellow counselors make the cabin habitable again. The decision to return to the cabin is part of a unified front by Brandon, Vern, and Milo. They do not feel good about enjoying the evening festivities while one of their own sits alone in the cabin. They are a team, after all.
Kris enters the cabin ahead of the others. He immediately kicks off his shoes and lies on his bed. If there is a time to be alone, this is it. He fights back tears that well up in his eyes. He purses his lips as tight as possible, because the first breath he takes will be a certain giveaway that he is crying. Brandon is quick to notice this as he slowly walks through the door. He hints for Milo and Vern to disappear for a bit, maybe head over to the holofilm. Vern and Milo start whining that they are already at the cabin and do not want to walk back to the ampitheatre.
Brandon walks over to his own bed and lies on his back, looking up at the ceiling.
"You know, my dad didn't even see me off when I left for camp. He said he was too disgusted with me and would rather drown his sorrows at the neighborhood pub and pick fights with the other customers. I'm sure your dad misses you."
"I think he's glad I'm gone. I've become a public embarrassment."
"Your dad? I can't believe that. Lot's of people think he's awesome. What could you have done that's so awful that he won't miss you?"
There is a long silence before Kris answers his question.
"I almost killed one of his officers."
Milo and Vern are back in the cabin. They have been listening outside. They almost fall over one another as they crash through the door. Milo is the first to speak.
"You killed someone?"
Brandon and Vern yell at Milo.
"Milo!"
Brandon shouts at Milo and Vern.
"You were supposed to be outside at the holofilm. Let him maintain some dignity! Geez."
"Sorry." Milo keeps talking. "So wha…what happened?"
Brandon interrupts and tries to clarify things.
"'Almost!' Guys… 'Almost!'…means it didn't happen. No one died. All I can say is that the creep probably had it coming."
After some prodding, Kris recounts the incident. At the end of his description of the event, he reflects on his 'misdeed.'
"It doesn't matter, I shouldn't have done it."
Vern sits at the foot of Kris' bed.
"That Admiral was a turd. He treated someone badly. If I had your powers, man…I would have shown no mercy. Well, all I have to say is, you're okay in my book. Listen, I was in big trouble before I got here."
Milo is curious.
"What did you do?"
"I set fire to Russ Porkin's comic book store."
"Cosmic Comics? That place is an institution! I bought my first 'Chewie and Boga' comic there on my sixth birthday."
"It was an accident. His assistant Lou hates kids. He didn't like a bunch of us hanging out at the shop. He claims we were loitering and destroying his profit margin by getting food stains all over his 'graphic novels'…He can call them whatever he wants; they're still comic books."
Brandon is getting impatient.
"Get on with the story, Vern!"
"Okay, so anyway, I had a bag of cherry plasma bombs. It was really an accident. I left them in one of the racks while reading the latest issue of 'Gungan King Battles'. After Lou chased us out of the store, I forgot about the plasma bombs. It was too late. The whole place went up in smoke."
Brandon sits up and speaks.
"Don't you know those things are dangerous? What did you have them for in the first place?"
"Honest, guys, I only meant to use them in the lake to watch the water lilies fly out of the water. You have to see it, man. The lilies puff up like gigantic cotton balls and suck up all the water. It's hilarious!"
"Are you serious?"
"Well…yeah…sort of…geez, Brandon, do you have to make everyone feel bad about what they've done? Since you're being so high and mighty, why are you here, Brandon?"
"It's nothing I wanna remember."
"Come on, Brandon, spill it."
"Alright! Geez! I went to the circus at the Galaxies Arena last summer…My brother had just returned from his tour of duty on Geonosis…I didn't think it would do any harm to borrow his blaster. Geez, those things never shoot right. Anyway, I was waiting for my Dad to buy a beer at the concession stand. I saw the animal handlers bringing the animals in for intermission. I know I shouldn't have sneaked in the tent. But I thought it would be a quiet place. That's when I decided to try out the blaster. I was aim towards the top of the tent. I forgot all about the bantha. The bantha just keeled over and died. It fell on one of the clown handlers. The dead weight of the beast broke both the guys' legs."
Milos offers one of his 'fun facts.'
"Well, statistically speaking, the weight of a beast that size would have broken the clowns' legs…live or dead."
Vern is shocked and amazed.
"You shot a bantha? Maaan!"
"Well, not exactly. It was drinking some water from the trough when the blaster went off by accident. I told you those things never work. It died from a heart attack. How was I to know the dumb animal was so sensitive? Suddenly…Kaa-Bam! It dies right on top of 'Hula-Hoop Bob'."
Vern has more questions.
"Gee, Brandon. A poor innocent animal?"
"Hey! I already feel bad about it. Kids were bawling their eyes out. My dad was sore 'cause he had to put down his beer to pick me up at security."
"If security found your dad, why couldn't they catch you before you shot the circus bantha?"
"I don't know, Vern. And I did not shoot the bantha."
"'Almost'" Vern thinks for a moment. "Hey! Are we talking about "Wally the Wooly Circus Bantha? The one they made into a holovids cartoon?"
Brandon rolls his eyes at the relentless questioning.
"Yes, Vern."
Milo is devastated.
"Wait…You killed Wally? I cried for a week! I used to watch Wally on the holovids every weekend after 'Mos Eisley Math Wizards'."
Brandon shrugs his shoulders.
"Listen, I regret every moment, okay, Milo?" Sorry I 'almost' killed your childhood hero. Grow up! So…why are you here, Milo? You don't look as if you could hurt a lava flea. What kind of trouble did you get into?
Vern turns to Milo.
"Yeah, I never thought about that. You're scared of everything. What's your story?"
Kris has remained quiet this entire time. He is still lying on the bed with his fingers laced behind his head.
"Leave him alone. We don't need to know."
"We poured our guts out. Why shouldn't he?"
"Does it really matter? It's not going to undo all the terrible stuff we've all done."
Milo interrupts.
"It's okay. I'll tell. We're all friends now, right?"
Vern thinks for a moment.
"I guess…"
Brandon jabs him in the back of the head with his elbow. Vern scowls. Brandon turns to Milo.
"So, Milo, do you wanna spill your guts or do you want your offense to remain anonymous?"
"I'll do it." There is a long pause before Milo utters another word. He works up the courage to speak. "I…uhm…I flunked art…"
Vern giggles.
"Art? What doofus flunks art? I still draw trees with two straight lines and a circle at the top."
Brandon raises an eyebrow at Vern's admission.
"That's nothing to brag about, Vern."
"Hey, I never claimed to be a famous artist like the guy who paints droids playing cards and stuff."
"So you draw trees with no leaves, Vern? Every kid can draw leaves."
"Hey, it works for me. I color the circle green and voilà! A tree! Leaves are a given. So, Milo, how did you flunk art of all things?"
"I drew a picture of the teacher."
This response elicits childish giggles from Vern.
"Was she hot?" Vern tugs at his t-shirt to imitate a gross image of a busty woman.
Brandon threatens to hit Vern again.
"Shut and stop interrupting, Vern! Go on, Milo."
"It wasn't that kind of picture and my teacher isn't a woman."
Brandon looks at Vern.
"See? Get your mind out of the gutter, Vern. Go on, Milo. If he interrupts again, I'll slug him for you."
"He said it was an art class on impressionism. I drew a picture of him with paintbrushes sticking out of his head."
"Okay…creepy but I get it."
Vern interrupts.
"So you killed him through art?" He flinches as he waits for Brandon to hit him but nothing happens."
"No. I didn't kill him. I got in trouble for something else…I hacked the school computers and changed my grade…and I left a note accusing him of being an oppressive overlord and I didn't apologize when I was in the headmaster's office. My parents got upset but how was I going to get into CorTech with a 'B' Plus average?"
Vern's eyes widen.
"Oooh! You got a 'B' Plus? You're a genius!"
"In my world, a 'B' Plus doesn't make you a genius. A 'B' Plus doesn't get you into CorTech."
Brandon ponders his answer.
"So, you destroyed the schools' computer system to keep your grade point average? Gee, Milo, I'm impressed that you had the nerve. You're an actual badass."
Vern has a revelation.
"So, even if you get a 'B', you're still considered dumb? Geez, no wonder my mum has such low expectations of me. She don't even get upset when I bring home my report card. She just grabs a pen and asks where to sign."
Brandon gently pats Milo on the shoulder.
"Milo, why put so much pressure on yourself? You're only eleven. You've got at least five more years to get your grades up."
"One."
The room goes silent.
"What do you mean?"
"I'll be a senior next year. All of my university applications were sent already."
Vern is dumbfounded about Milo being in high school.
"You mean to tell us you're a double genius hiding out in a kid's camp?"
This time Brandon punches Vern in the arm. Vern mouths the word 'Ouch.'
Kris, who has remained quiet during the 'true confessions summit', speaks.
"Milo, art is good for you. Think of all the things you need to know to create a masterpiece. You still need to measure a canvas and stuff like that. Art is an expression of how you feel. I mean, it's great that you expressed your frustration but trashing the teacher was the wrong way to go about it. You can be creative and smart. Take my brother, Alex for example. He was accepted at CorTech. That's where he went as soon as he graduated from the Jedi Academy. He's really smart too…guess what he's doing? He's got his own rock band. Chicks are throwing themselves at him. Every Sunday there was a different girl sitting at the dinner table. My dad was getting pissed. My brother still attends CorTech, 'cause my dad threw a fit. Alex has a 4.0 G.P.A and my dad still thinks he's a big dummy. So, humor your folks; keep bringing home good grades. If you decide you want to do something else, tell 'em, 'Here's your 'A', now get off my back, I'm gonna pilot a spice freighter for the rest of my life.'"
"But I don't wanna pilot a spice freighter."
"It just an example, Milo."
"Oh."
Vern has an urgent question as the boys get ready for bed.
"Hey, did anyone ever send 'Hula-Hoop Bob' a get well card?"
"Good night, Vern!"
The boys turn in for the night.
The next morning the boys pray they don't get tormented by Johnny. Perhaps he's too tired to bother with them. They see Johnny enter the dining hall. He looks tired, but not bad enough to take the day off from torturing kids.
The boys finish breakfast and walk outside. They have fifteen minutes before they have to line up for inspection by 'Hart-less Wolf' Gunderson. Vern looks around then performs a comical imitation of their fearless camp leader.
"Don't scare me none! You Hogwarts, drop and gimme 50, soldiers! I got my eye on you, Fieldhopper! Heh-heh-heh!"
Kris, Brandon, and Milo giggle until their sides ache. The laughter suddenly stops. Vern finally notices but it is too late. He turns slowly to find Sergeant Gunderson standing behind him.
"That's right, Arfsten, let's see that 50. Come on, Lil' chub-chub! Get that flabby belly in the dirt!
Vern stammers a bit as he takes a few terrified steps towards Gunderson.
"Uhm…sir…ye-yes….sir."
Vern takes forever getting into position for the push-ups. His cheeks turn red as he strains to support his body with his plump arms. Gunderson waits.
"Come's on, let's go!" he watches as Vern strains to produce one complete push-up. Gunderson shakes his head. "Tsk...tsk…You are a sorry sight. I bet if I shoved a banana split under your nose you'd do one…will that help, Sgt. 'Funny-boy' Arfsten?"
"I'm tryin', sir!"
Kris offers to do the 50 push-ups.
"I'll do it, sir." Kris starts to do push-ups.
"Get up, Skywalker! This ain't your battle. Arfsten needs to take responsibility for his actions. He needs to be a soldier."
"But we're just a bunch of kids."
"Stand down, Skywalker. You're a born leader, Skywalker but would you trust 'little bantha' here to save the day if you're down? You can be a great leader if your team has your back. Think about it."
Kris ponders for a moment. It is true; Vern would not come to his rescue; the cave was proof of that. He had to rescue everyone. Gunderson looks at Vern.
"That's enough! I got your sorry ass all summer to work on you. This hurts me more than it does you. I've got to watch you accomplish absolutely nothing! Get up you chubby bantha! Now git!"
"Yes, sir!"
Gunderson walks away. Vern pants heavily as he pulls himself up. The boys each give him a reassuring pat on the back. Kris is afraid Vern is going to crack from the abuse. They are surprised when Vern starts to giggle.
"Man…I think I pissed him off! Did you see his face? I thought he was gonna blow a gasket. That was funny! There's no way he was gonna get 50 push-ups outta me!"
"Is that so?" Gunderson returns and folds his arms across his chest as he stands behind Vern.
This is one day Vern should regret. The boys gather around Vern's bed that evening back in the cabin. Vern is resting after a grueling day. He has just finished soaking his legs in a basin filled with warm water and Epsoms salts. Brandon makes a wisecrack.
"At least he had mercy on you at 12 pushups and let you go. He was gonna let you go the first time until you walked away laughing. Vern, you are your own worst enemy."
"Well, at least I got this awesome certificate." Vern gingerly reaches for the framed plaque from the night table. 'Physical Fitness Achievement Award: Vernon Walter Arfsten'…cool! I never got a physical fitness award."
Milo is not so sure.
"I would have cried. I can't tolerate the pain; besides, Gunderson scares me."
Brandon and Vern agree.
"Yes, Milo, we know."
Kris expresses concern for Vern but he is also proud of him.
"Still in a lot of pain, Vern?"
"Yeah, but part of me feels really good. I used muscles I never knew I had! "
Brandon gives his friend some advice.
"That's all well and good but next time you want to make fun of Gunderson, do it when we're not around or else we'd all be in pain right now."
"But think about it…We would have four awesome plaques. Gunderson can't break us."
Milo Pulkkinen, Vern Arfsten, Brandon Hexum, and Krizten Skywalker: Friends for life.
Back on Coruscant, Anakin is conducting an inventory of the gear he plans to bring on his trip to Yavin 4. He studies the planning guide for about five minutes before tossing it in the wastebasket. Skippy sniffs each item as he conducts his own inspection. Threepio calls out each item as Anakin checks off the list.
"Water purifying tablets."
"Check."
"Filter."
"Check."
"First aid kit."
Toss that."
"Toss…Master, are you quite sure? That area of Yavin 4 is quite primitive. You're travelling to Waylassi Jungle. It's not exactly a tourist spot. You've never been there, so a first aid kit may be necessary. A rescue station could be hours or days away."
"I can do this myself you know."
"Oh, very well. Rope."
"Check"
"Insect repellant"
"Check"
"Lightsaber"
"Check"
"Blaster"
"What? I didn't put that on the list."
"I took the liberty, sir."
Anakin laughs at Threepio.
"Seriously?"
"A blaster could prove useful if used properly."
"So can a lightsaber." Anakin points at the droid.
"Point well taken, Master. But if you had a good blaster…"
Anakin ignores him.
"What's next?"
"A99 aquata breather."
"Toss that. We're going on a glorified nature hike, not a swim on Kamino."
"But, sir…"
"It's unnecessary gear, Threepio. I'm not carrying what I don't need!"
Threepio releases an exasperated sigh then continues.
"GPS Compass and native translation device"
"Toss!"
"Helmet…I mean… safari hat."
"Check"
"Credit cards, local currency, sabacc cards…Sir! Are these items absolutely necessary? The trip is paid for. You'll be in the wild; there's no need for money."
"But I'll be out of the wild at the end of this shindig. I want to come home clean. I'm taking the credit cards."
Threepio whispers to himself in a fretful tone.
"Oh, dear, he's going to die out there."
"What?"
"Oh…nothing…Master….uhm…Shall we re-check your clothing and footwear inventory?" Threepio watches impatiently as Skippy makes a mess of the neatly stacked clothing. "Go away! Shoo! Furry cuteness can only be tolerated for so long!"
"No, my daughters bought me enough khaki to go on a dozen expeditions. Are we done?"
"I suppose so, sir." A dejected Threepio turns to leave the living room but something stops him. "Uhm, Master, I was just thinking of something…"
Anakin rolls his eyes and waves the checklist in the air.
"Oh Boy! What?!"
"Well, sir, with young Master Kris off to child labor camp and you off to the wilds of Yavin 4 will be like your own little camping trip."
"How many times must I tell you that he is not away at a work camp?"
"But during that HoloNet interview, the old man said…"
"And he was wrong! I can't believe you would listen to him. Are you trying to make me feel guilty about my own son, Threepio?"
"Oh, never, Master…but you might want to reply to your son's letter…just to put him at ease, and to let him know how much you miss his presence here at home."
Anakin begins to feel uneasy and he is immediately defensive.
"What makes you think I haven't?"
"All I am saying, Master, is that it is a camping tradition for parents to write to their children to see how they are getting on so far from home."
"How do you know I haven't?"
"All of the other children received letters from home. Thank heavens, Madame Isabel wrote a letter to him two weeks ago. He surely received it by now."
Anakin stares at the protocol droid. He is stunned like a bantha in cruiser headlights on a dark and dusty Tatooine road. Threepio, satisfied with his pointed remarks, abruptly leaves the room.
"I will leave you with your thoughts, Master. Call me if you need me."
As soon as Threepio leaves, Anakin looks at all the gear in the room. Isabel walks by, stepping over equipment and stacks of clothing.
"Anakin, you need to gather all of this stuff and get it out of my living room. It looks like a warehouse in here. We haven't heard from our son yet. He never wrote back. I hope he's enjoying himself."
She heads into the kitchen.
That evening after dinner, Anakin retreats to his den. His gear is in neat stacks around the desk. He pulls out the letter that his son wrote during the first week at camp. He was planning to write but he could not find the right words to put to paper until tonight. He opens a drawer and pulls out the box of stationery that Kris left for him. He selects one of the pens used to sign the, now infamous 'Hapes Treaty' and begins to write:
'Dear Kris,
Your mother and I were happy to receive your letter. What a little executive you are! You cc'd your mother! I am beginning to suspect that you don't trust your old man. Ha-ha.
Anyway, I hope by now you are getting on well with your cabin mates. Yes, I know meeting new people often makes one judge too quickly. These boys may seem like douches at first but after awhile, we all mellow. These boys could very well turn out to be your friends for life. You will realize that you have a lot in common, such as lots of fun siblings, a wacky godfather and mentor, a doting mother, and yes, an unyielding father who rides your ass every chance he gets because, deep down, he knows you can become a better son and a more powerful Jedi than he was.
So, having said that, I would like to know how you spend your days, what you have learned, and if Super Friday Sundaes are as delicious as the brochures claim. Yes, I thoroughly investigated the place to answer your question, and digging for holes 'for no good reason', can be therapeutic. Luke went through similar trials on Dagobah when he was a teenager. It may suck a lot, and you will get a little dirty, but your view of life and responsibilities will become clearer.
I am about to embark on a journey of my own. It should be fun and 'therapeutic'…if I don't kill your brother-in-law before it's over.
May the Force be with you…always.
Love,
Your Father'
Anakin folds the letter and inserts it in one of the pre-addressed envelopes. He slips it into his briefcase with the letter Isabel gave him to mail two weeks earlier. Skippy yawns as he finds a soft stack of his master's clothing on which to rest. Life can be good.