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Ezra huddled against his father's side as the transport shuddered. His heart hammered, his breath catching in his throat as images played through his mind of the ship ripping itself apart, throwing all of them into the vacuum of space.
“It’s okay, Ezra,” Dad said, pulling him close and running a hand through his hair.
“Wh—what’s going to happen to us?” Ezra asked. He was whispering, though he wasn’t sure why. Every one of the dozens of people packed into the transport seemed scared to talk louder than quiet muttering.
When Dad didn’t answer, Ezra looked up to see him exchanging a terrified glance with Mom.
“I don’t know,” Dad said. Ezra couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.
Loud hisses and creaks filled the air around them and Ezra clung tighter to his father, his nails digging in through his clothes.
“It’s alright,” Dad said. “We’re just landing.”
That only made Ezra cling to him even tighter.
As the transport’s doors opened, Ezra could just barely see the stormtroopers through the wall of people in front of them. His father picked him up, holding him tightly as the stormtroopers began to drag and push people off of the transport.
Mom grabbed Dad’s arm so they wouldn’t be separated as they were led into a wide hangar bay like the one they’d been brought to before they were loaded onto the ship with the other prisoners. There were other transports nearby, identical to the one they’d been on, and more prisoners were being dragged off of them. The stormtroopers were pulling people away from each other, separating them into long lines and herding them out of the hangar. Ezra buried his face in his father’s shoulder, whimpering as the noise slammed against his ears.
Hands grabbed Ezra’s waist and he gasped, his arms tightening around his father’s shoulders as someone tried to pull him away.
“Leave him alone!” he heard his mother growl.
“Children are processed separately,” an unfamiliar voice said. The hands grabbed him again and roughly wrenched him away.
“No!” he screamed, frantically reaching for Dad’s hand. His father reached toward him, trying to grab hold of him again, but the stormtrooper who held Ezra started walking, carrying him away from his parents.
“No!” Ezra screamed again. “Let go! Mom! Dad!”
The stormtrooper dropped Ezra to the ground, striking his face with an armored hand. As Ezra cried out, the stormtrooper grabbed his arm and dragged him to a long line of other kids that wound its way to a wide door.
Ezra looked around frantically, but he couldn’t see his parents anywhere. All he could see were stormtroopers and other terrified kids. Some were older than him. Some were just babies, held in the arms of older siblings or confused older children they’d been handed to by stormtroopers.
As the line of children began to move, Ezra felt someone shove him between the shoulder blades, pushing him ahead. Ezra stumbled forward, tears stinging at his eyes. He didn’t care who saw them. He wasn’t the only one in the crowd crying.
He hugged his arms around himself as he stood there, waiting, wondering what was going to happen. Ahead of him, he could see kids being shoved through the door at the end of the line, while others were dragged away to a small crowd forming at the boarding ramp of a nearby transport. None of the kids in that group looked older than five.
Ezra’s glanced to the side, toward the crowds and lines of adults on the other end of the hangar. The sight of the stormtroopers’ blasters ended any thought of running before it had even fully formed.
At long last, Ezra was pulled from the line and shoved toward one of several men standing outside the door, wearing uniforms different from the stormtroopers.
“Name?” the man asked.
“E—Ezra Bridger,” he said, his voice shaking.
“Speak up,” the man snapped.
“Ezra Bridger,” he said again, louder this time.
The man entered the information into a datapad he was holding. Ezra stood there, trembling, nodding silently as the man read off his parents’ names and the planet he was from.
“How old are you?” the man asked.
“Seven,” Ezra said.
“Hand.”
Ezra’s eyes darted around as he tried to figure out what the man wanted him to do. He yelped as the man grabbed his left wrist, pulling Ezra’s hand toward him and scrawling something on the back of it in ink from an old-fashioned stylus. As a stormtrooper grabbed Ezra’s arm and pulled him aside to clear the way for the next kid, Ezra glanced down at his hand to see that the mark was a number written in black ink. 253809.
The stormtrooper pushed Ezra through the door, into a large room where a small crowd of other kids was forming. Someone shoved a bundle of grey cloth into his hands and finally, Ezra was left alone for a moment, with no one pushing and grabbing at him. He stood frozen in place, shaking as tears slid down his cheeks. What was going to happen to him? What was going to happen to his parents? Was he ever going to see them again?
He jumped when he heard a cry of “no!” from somewhere behind him. He turned to see a girl about his age being dragged through the door toward the group of kids Ezra was standing with. She was reaching toward a toddler who was being dragged away from her, screaming as he was carried to the group of younger kids.
“Let him go!” the girl screamed, throwing herself toward the door.
One of the stormtroopers pulled out a shock prod and pressed it to the girl’s shoulder. As the girl collapsed, the stormtrooper who’d shocked her grabbed her by the hair and shoved her back through the door. She fell to the ground beside Ezra, hugging herself and sobbing. Ezra stood there, watching. He knew he should do something, but he could barely think through the panic filling his head and the sounds of dozens of other screaming, crying children pounded in his ears. He didn’t know what to do. He just wanted his mom and dad.
“Get up,” one of the stormtroopers said, nudging the girl with his boot.
She whimpered as she pushed herself to her feet. Ezra opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the door behind them shut with a loud clang.
“Get changed!” one of the stormtroopers still in the room with them called, his voice raised so the whole group would hear him. “You have two minutes.”
Several seconds dragged by before anyone in the group began to follow the order. Looking around and realizing what he was supposed to do, Ezra quickly stripped off his clothes and put on the grey uniform they’d given him. He’d barely finished putting it on when another door opened on the opposite side of the room from the one they’d come through.
“Get moving,” one of the stormtroopers beside the door said, grabbing the kid closest to him and shoving her through the door.
They were herded forward into a long corridor, the stormtroopers shoving anyone who they thought was moving too slowly. Ezra jumped as a set of blast doors closed behind them.
As they continued making their way down the corridor, some of the kids were pulled away from the group and dragged down other hallways. Ezra thought they had been walking for maybe five minutes before someone grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. He stumbled as he tried to keep up with the stormtrooper who was leading him down yet another corridor. The soldier only wrenched his arm harder until Ezra practically had to run to avoid being dragged along the floor. Finally, they stopped and the stormtrooper opened a door, revealing a dark, empty cell. He shoved Ezra through the door, closing it behind him and locking him inside.
Ezra turned around, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the door. His eyes burned and tears began to trickle down his cheeks again. Within moments, he was sobbing, his arms wrapped around himself. Pain burst through his knees and it took him a moment to realize that he’d fallen to the floor.
He didn’t know how long he knelt there in the middle of the cell, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. He jumped and yelped, throwing himself backward when the door finally opened again and someone else was shoved into the cell. Ezra blinked, looking up through the haze of tears, and gasped when he realized that it was his mother.
She ran to his side, dropping to the floor beside him and throwing her arms around him.
“Mom,” Ezra gasped, burying his face in her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” his mother asked, pulling him onto her lap.
Her question only made Ezra cry harder, clinging tightly to her as his tears soaked her prison uniform.
“I know,” she said quietly. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head as she began gently rocking him. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”
But no matter how certain she tried to sound, Ezra knew that she was lying. They would never be okay here.
They would never be okay again.