“I love you,” Susan B. Anthony said, staring into George Eastman’s eyes as he stood on the platform, ready to be lowered into the carbonite freezing chamber.

“I know,” Eastman replied, as a slight suggestion of a smile appeared on his lips. The floor began to sink beneath him. This might be his last mistake, Eastman thought—twenty years of smuggling optics equipment through the Imperial blockade had finally caught up with him. He should have known better than to come back here, what with that scoundrel, Lando Calrochesterian, running the city.

“Rrrrrrr-aaauurgghhh!” roared Chewbacca, as Eastman sank into the floor. Eastman clutched his briefcase tighter against his side. Suddenly, he remembered the last thing he had been meaning to say.

“Wait, Susan! One more thing!” Eastman raised his hand in an attempt to grab her attention before he was frozen. Suddenly, there was a violent burst of steam, and the carbonite froze George into a burnished statue of himself. He rose back out of the floor, looking as though he had been carved out of stone. One hand was raised in a futile gesture, and there was a startled expression on his immutable face.

Two men in armor stepped in from an anteroom. One was short, in pitted and tarnished armor—the deadly bounty hunter Boba Fett. The other was a good deal taller, dressed in all black with a cape that swirled around him, making him seem to blend into the shadows at the edge of the room.

“Is he alive?” rasped Fett. “He’s no use to me dead.”

“He’s alive.” said the man in the black armor. “The carbonite should preserve him quite well. Now, prepare the chamber for Skywalker!”

Lando Calrochesterian stepped forward, looking nervous. “Lord Vader, how do you intend to pay for all this? Freezing people in carbonite isn’t cheap, you know.”

“Tuition will be raised accordingly.” Vader said, curtly. His voice was low and menacing, even distorted as it was by his mask.

“But you said—”

“I am raising the tuition.” Vader interrupted. “Pray I do not raise it any further.” With that, he strode from the room, his cape billowing behind him.

Passanisi is a member of
the class of 2017.



In a campus far, far away

My feed filled instantly with influencers explaining the mission. Some of them had millions of followers. Their videos were polished, confident, and loaded with terms like "trans-lunar injection" and “free-return trajectory.” They spoke with the authority of people who had studied astrophysics and literal rocket science their entire lives. Read More

In a campus far, far away

There was one winner from each grade and each was awarded $500 towards their future college tuition upon admission.  Read More

In a campus far, far away

As recently as the early 2010s, it was standard practice for surgeons to provide 30 to 40 or more opioid pills for common, minimally invasive procedures. Most of these pills, however, would remain untouched, left over in the patient’s medical cabinet or kitchen pantries for potential misuse. A team of researchers led by URMC’s Dr. Jacob Moalem set out to reduce these opioid overprescriptions. Read More