She walked, gingerly, as to not make any sound, on her toes down the length of the cold, empty corridor. Her stern, gray eyes, glowing like two icy stars beneath her helmet, scanned the darkness that lurked in front of her. At the hint of a sound, her heart leapt up in her chest, pulse quickening, and her grip on the blaster at her side tightened. A droid crossed the boundary from the darkness ahead into the light and back into the black that enveloped the path behind her. She inhaled deeply, letting the relaxing feeling of relief sweep over her.
The meeting had not ended long ago, and even the marginal risk that this allowed was a risk, one she did enjoy taking. But was it worth it? It so much at stake, her past, their future, everything they had worked so hard to keep quiet.
As she slinked along, she knew she was getting closer, almost there in fact – the thought rung true to her mind and heart. A grim smile began to split her lips, but, abruptly, she stopped it, It's not time for that, not yet, she thought. There was a right time for everything, but you had to be patient, reserved, womanly - her mother had taught her that, back home on Phelanon. A strong memory of her mother came to her, interrupting the chill and deathly silence that engulfed the space station. A bad memory.
Her mother was standing there, on the balcony of their apartment, still composed - stately, like she always was, but you could tell something was just not right. Her soft, china-white skin didn't glow like it used to, her luxurious, trademark curls fell cascading down her back, streams of silver finding their places in an ocean of red. Her nightgown hung limply over her still statuesque body.
She remembered reaching out, wondering, asking, only to meet a jungle of confusion. Flinching, Zania withdrew from her past and into the present. She lay down and began to crawl, swiftly, her body closely hugging the floor. The coolness of the metal seeped through the thin fabric of her suit, sending chills throughout her body and quickly causing her to regret not purchasing the fully armored option. The metal of the armor made a slight metallic noise as she pulled herself across the hallway and through the open doorway on her left.
The door led to a thin balcony that lined a large, circular chamber. Industrial panels of glass lined the far wall, looking out at the darkness outside, which was brightened only by the vivid projections of scattered stars and planets. Wide, expansive circular steps ascended from the main floor to a raised platform in the center of the room. On the platform stood a lone, prestigious chair, inhabited now by only its own shadow.
Zania's eyes closed as she assumed a squatting position. Her long, dark eyelashes tickled her delicate, porcelain cheeks, which sat upon high cheekbones. Air trailed silently through her long pointed nose, each breath escaping her body only to be blocked by the shield of her helmet. She waited, hesitating. If her timing wasn't right…she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to force the idea out of her mind. No, she wouldn't leave it to chance - she'd wait.
The passing seconds fleetingly turned into minutes as she sat there, watching and waiting, her eyes continuously resting on the lone monument in the center of the main floor. Then she heard it, the sound she had been waiting for. Soft footsteps, inaudible at first, but as she listened she could tell, the pace quickening, it was a man - she watched from the balcony as the distinctive red uniform of the emperor's royal guard came into view.
Her eyes raced to find the quickest way down to the floor, scanning the room for stairs, elevators, ledges, anything. She quickly regained her composure and made her way over to a ladder that hid in the dark. Carefully watching every step, Zania descended, rung by rung, to the floor. Her position still shrouded by the many shadows within the room she turned slowly to face the direction of the guard. Feeling for the holster at her side, she found the gun, and held her hand there, savoring the moment.
The guard looked around, showing a hint of uncharacteristic impatience. He stood there for a few more moments, and then slowly removed his helmet. His dark brown, almost black, hair was the first to emerge, followed by two black eyes. The man was strikingly handsome in a dark, mysterious sort of way. From something deep inside him, you could tell that he had a purpose, and an unwavering loyalty for it. This reminded her of someone she used to know, her father perhaps? She couldn't remember, it'd been years since she'd seen him – she hardly even knew him, if he was still alive.
Gradually, Zania emerged from the dark, blaster in hand. She had waited, hoped, dreamed of this moment - she had spent weeks planning it down to the smallest detail, and now it was finally here. Now she reached for her helmet as the guard's eyes locked with her own. Unworried, she continued, lifting the blunt metal headpiece off, unveiling her face. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, and then the two rushed towards each other with the swift sprint of sworn enemies.
The couple joined into a violent embrace, he pressing her fiercely against his chest, one hand cupped on the nape of her neck, the other pushing into her back as her arms wound themselves tightly around his neck. Tension and excitement roared inside of them, like the explosion of flares during a raging war, their hands fumbling at each other's hair and clothes. Quick, shallow gasps of air escaped their tightly locked lips as he began to remove her armor. Forcefully, she pulled away and starred into his eyes. He stood frozen under her gaze.
"Not here," she whispered painfully. She didn't want the moment to end. He made a quick nod of agreement. Taking her by the hand he led her under the narrow balcony towards a closed door. Knowingly, he punched in the nine-digit activation code, causing the door to rise into its frame like the metal sheet of a guillotine.
He pulled her inside and back into his arms as the door flew shut again.
"The Emperor's chamber," he smiled wryly as he unfastened the armored breastplate of her suit, she removing the red cloak that covered his body. Flashing an excited grin back at him, she looked around the high security room and felt her senses heighten – this was going to be interesting.
With that he hoisted her on to the small metal night table that stood on the far left of the room, gently running his hands over her thighs. Closing her eyes, she rolled her head back and smiled. He was working his way upward; she felt his warm hands massaging her hips, now they were at her stomach.
"Oh Derkan," she began wistfully as his hands met her collarbone, then her neck.
"Ssshh," he silenced her, pressing a finger to her plump lips as he stroked her face. Zania opened her eyes and stared into the eyes of her lover.