A/N: Hello again! I am glad to present another chapter.

Thanks goes out to the reviewer for the previous chapter, Time Lady Tinkerbell: I appreciate your feedback. I'm honestly flattered by what you think of the story, and somewhat surprised, because in some aspects, we seem to be thinking on the same wavelength.

I hope all of you enjoy this chapter, and feel free to give me feedback; both positive and negative are appreciated.

Disclaimer: I have not gained the rights to this fantastic franchise overnight. If I had, there would be no point to this fanfiction.

42.

The twin suns of the bizarre desert world, which Holly was loath to admit was definitely not Arrakis, gleamed brightly in the otherwise barren sky. She had only recently realized that there were two suns; she was not in the habit of staring at the stars around which she was currently orbiting (she didn't much like the idea of going blind), and it was only because of a comment offered by C-3PO that she even glanced skyward.

No wonder it was sweltering hot; two stars that close to Earth would definitely turn it to this desolate wasteland.

Holly had, by now, come to terms with the fact that she was no longer in North America, or the Sahara (not that she ever was in the Sahara). It had taken a while, yes, but a glance at the sky had slain her hopes of this being a dramatic and extravagant ploy to fool her.

Neither was particularly likely, but she would have preferred to remain on her own planet.

Holly had long since given up trying to find an answer to all of her questions; she was much too tired, much too hungry, and much, much too thirsty. She could not recall the last time she felt the cool, refreshing wave of comfort that was water on the tongue. Her sweaty clothes and dry skin did not help; she wondered what that little droid was talking about when he 'said' that he was looking for settlements the other way: Who would even consider settling here, of all places? For miles and miles, Holly could see nothing but a vast ocean of sand. She pitied anyone actually living here.

She gripped Steven's straps firmly in two tight fists. The poor bag had gone through a lot with her, and for that, Holly was immensely grateful; she could not imagine being without his comforting weight on her back. Comforting operatively, of course: she would be physically more comfortable with nothing hanging from her aching shoulders, but at least she knew that she still had her books.

Holly had a habit of turning to books when nothing else provided familiarity. Surprising, knowing Holly, obviously. Unfortunately, all of what she had was old and tattered, or else so scrutinized by Holly's own eyes that she had memorized nearly every line. She had been lugging around old novels for a few weeks now, unwilling to leave them in her locker, or on her bookshelf. Maybe, once she and her golden droid companion found somewhere to rest, she could read.

That was a slight consolation.

The two of them, Holly and 3PO, had had much time to discuss many things; namely, what it was like onboard her fantasy starship, what it was like on this horrid planet, how confused they both were. It seemed that they had much in common, aside from the fact that the two droids had apparently crashed on this planet in an escape pod that actually existed.

"What was it like on your ship, Captain?" was the question that started it all.

"Huh?" Holly asked. She had not been paying attention to him—merely staring off into the distance. "Oh, sorry. Yeah. Enterprise. Well, it's hard to say; I don't have much to compare it to. At least, not much that you'd understand, anyway."

"Yes, that it probably right," 3PO agreed. "For a Captain, you do seem to know surprisingly little about space."

Holly acted appalled. She thought she was doing a pretty good job of acting, even though she did not like the fact that it was all fallacious. "Excuse me, Metal Man, I am a Captain! Do you assume that I would have risen to this rank in ignorance? I am very well educated in the celestial layout of my own galaxy; forgive me if I am not so familiar with yours."

3PO apologized. "I meant no disrespect, of course, Captain. It is as much a mystery to me why you are here as it is to you."

Holly's expression softened. "I know, 3PO," she said sincerely. And this was really sincere—she knew perfectly well how unfamiliar this situation was to the both of them. "We're both looking for answers, just to a different question. I know that everything can't be forty-two."

"Miss, are you quite alright? In my experience, not many things are forty-two," he said in what she could only guess was a perplexed manner. "Is it so different in your galaxy?"

She chuckled. "No, my friend; it's a saying. Don't think much of it; my sayings certainly don't seem to have much significance here."

"I believe you are quite right."

42.

Holly turned to the affectionately-dubbed Metal Man companion and halted in her sluggish steps when she realized that he had stopped a few feet back. "3PO, what's going on?" They had stopped on a particularly high dune; it seemed, also, that many years ago, a dinosaur-like being had also stopped around this same place and then promptly died, for if there was ever a larger skeleton on Earth than the one before her now, it had not yet been uncovered.

"That malfunctioning little twerp! He tricked me into going this way, but he'll do no better," came the droid's dismayed reply. Holly stared.

"3PO, what do you mean, 'tricked you?' You chose to go this way; I was there!" Holly argued. "What did you expect; that we were going to come across a glistening city, with people welcoming us with open arms?" Holly was honestly not surprised that their search was in vain. But, she hadn't really known any better where to go, so following was better than nothing.

"That would have been much preferred, Miss Dianna," he grumbled, turning round, knocking sand from his joints. There had been mild winds, brushing sand across their bodies, which caused Holly to be thankful of the protection her glasses provided. "Though I doubt there are any settlements near here. Oh, I should have known!"

They were both silent for a moment, just standing and resting without actually resting. The lucky thing about being a droid was that you didn't get sweaty or tired or uncomfortable. Then, 3PO spoke again.

"Wait, what's that?" Holly turned her head to look in his direction. Glasses dirty and eyes weary, she did not know what he was looking at or addressing. "A transport! We're saved!"

Holly hurriedly removed her glasses and wiped them on the shirt underneath her hoodie. Since her blue Star Trek hoodie was lighter in color than her black shirt underneath, she had decided to keep it on (and because she had told C-3PO that it was her uniform). Placing the frames back on her nose, she peered into the distance.

Sure enough, there was a bright flare, as if people were signaling with mirrors. Holly assumed that they were not mirrors, because nearly anything metal or glass could cause such an illusion; it was highly improbable that anyone even knew they were out there, let alone try to commune with them.

3PO began to wave one arm above his head frantically. Holly was warier, not quite ready to encounter another probably equally confusing being as this one, even if they were people. "Over here!" the bronze droid yelled. "Help! Please, help!"

Holly, gazing intently into the distance, shook her head. "3PO, why are you so sure they're here to help?" Her question was met by no answer, however, as the golden droid obnoxiously yelled. His tendency to be hopeful at the wrong time was beginning to wear on Holly, even though she had only known him for was she perceived as a few hours. She sort of wished that she had followed the blue droid instead.

As the object grew nearer, Holly discovered that her wariness was not without precedent; the thing that they both looked towards was a vehicle, though she could see no wheels. It strongly resembled a Vogon ship in that it had no great detail on the outside; it was gargantuan in dimensions, however, and as it drew closer and closer to their positions, Holly found herself gazing upward in awe.

This awe was not alone, however, for she also felt a great dread: this machine and those who controlled it surely had ill intentions. Much in the same way as C-3PO had evoked feelings of slight irritation and emitted an aura of natural harmlessness, this vehicle caused her fear. Though she had never really been one for cowering, Holly wanted to hide; the problem was, however, that there was nowhere to hide.

And, of course, the droid beside her was obviously catching their attention.

C-3PO had bought her story about being the captain of a disabled ship; would whoever was driving this thing do the same? It got closer and closer with each passing moment, not particularly fast but still too quickly for her liking. But, if she could really pull off this 'starship captain' gig, she could save their skins….

She squared her shoulders and attempted to look much less tired, though she would never know how successful she was (basically, she wasn't successful). Holly straitened her posture and held her head high, picturing any captain she had ever seen, and trying to ooze the same easy confidence they had.

Oh, what was she talking about? The only captains she had ever seen were professional actors.

She was nowhere near that good at acting.

Still, she did have the 'uniform'. At least, she had a hoodie impersonating a uniform. Maybe on this planet, it'll pass for an outlandish uniform. And, hey, they may even be fooled by her 'I'm from another galaxy….apparently' tale.

Well, a girl could hope, even if it is in vain.

Lost in her thoughts, Holly had not realized that a deep rumbling, coming from the approaching machine, had reached her ears. It only really caught her attention when it was accompanied by a high-pitched sort of screeching and snickering.

What could that possibly be? Holly had NEVER heard anything akin to this sound before. Squinting, which did not do much to protect her eyes from the harsh light, she looked closely at the machine, and she could vaguely make out the outline of men. Either her perception of depth was greatly skewed, or she was correct in the assumption that he height of these hooded creatures was nearly half her own.

Were they….kids? Their movements were jerky, as if it took great effort to move as quickly as they did, and the robes they wore over their head and body covered any discernable face. Only when they were nearly fifteen meters away could Holly see that there was no face….just two glowing red eyes.

It would have been menacing, if she hadn't seen them move or heard their voices. She nearly laughed, before she realized that it would be ungainly. Or, was it un-captainly?

Holly did not realize that she had been backing away until a loud zap caused her to sharply turn her head to her left. Where 3PO had previously been standing and waving quite foolishly, he now stood rigid, with blue bolts of electricity surrounding him as if they were shackles. The sudden loss of motion caused her companion to lock his knees and arms, which subsequently sent his static body falling. She rushed forward to catch him before she realized that, if she even touched the golden metal plating, she would be shocked. Shocked literally, that is, not just surprised.

So she let him fall. It could not have done much damage, that fall, because he was shaped like a human, and therefore should not be so fragile as to crumble at the slightest impact. The hollow noise that echoed from within him caused her to wince and she felt a momentary pang of sympathy—he did not deserve to be shot, even if he was rather foolish.

The hissing and snickering from the child-beings, these sand beings, was right behind her. Holly whirled around and saw them scuttle quickly past her, nearly flippantly. If she was relieved that they did not chase after her, it was short lived, because they soon reached 3PO. There were about five of them, she would guess, and it took the entire group to lift the poor robot's lifeless form.

Holly's next action caused her to plummet further into the realm of madness and foolish decisions: she rushed after their retreating forms. "3PO!" she cried as she ran.

There must be a few things known of Holly: she did not often act foolishly. Not when something important was at stake. If course, that 'important' thing may vary; one day, it's an animal's life, the next, it's an exam grade. The day after, it's a funny robot she just met. However, if something endangered this certain thing, she would abandon all of her precious logic in an instant. After the deed was done, she would gather her logic back into her mind and spend the following day regretting her rash decision.

Basically, the usually calm, composed Holly would not hesitate to help something she truly cared for. This was why her reaction was surprising: she had only known 3PO for a few hours, half a day, at most. Why was she so eager to help him, then?

It could have been because there was nobody else there to do it for her, or no one else there for her to worry over.

Regardless, she hurried quickly over to the droid and his captors. She grabbed one by its shoulder and yanked back. "Don't touch him!" she said forcefully. "Let him go, now! By my right as captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise, drop him now!"

They answered her with a series of unintelligible hisses, batting her hands away with pesky little arms. At least, attempting to; she was much larger, and therefore, at least a little bit stronger, than they were. One of them fighting her could easily be dealt with. However, her struggle caught the attention of the rest of the bizarre company, and she found her arms being pulled back by little kids.

How embarrassing.

She continued to thrash at the moving group, reaching desperately for 3PO. Maybe he had an 'on' button that she could press to reboot him? She could flip a switch and everything, aside from the sand beings themselves, would be perfectly fine. The problem was, she had not seen any sort of lever or button on 3PO at all that could serve as a starter. In that case, there was no way she could hope to repair her new friend.

Holly felt a sharp jab in her side, firmer than one of their gloved hands. She glanced down, and in the hands of one of the little men shoving her, there was an object that she could only describe as being a pistol; there was a trigger, a barrel (even if the barrel was oddly shaped) and a handle. She did not see any loading mechanism, however, but she didn't really have much time to search.

As it was harshly jabbed into her ribcage, an intense stinging and shock was sent through her, originating in her side. It was not the same gun with which they had shot C-3PO, because there were no blue sparks, but she felt her body go rigid all the same. Holly willed her arms to move with all of her might, but no power in her body could make it shift from its state of rest; she crumpled to the ground promptly and ungracefully.

The side on which she was laying was not the side that she had been shot on, thankfully, for while the rest of her body was relatively numb, a sharp throbbing now resided in the entire left side of her body, sending waves of pain that served to remind her that "I hurt you and you can't do anything about it."

So far as Holly could tell, the little sand beings just continued to carry her unfortunate friend away from her. Were they leaving her behind? What use did they have for 3PO and not for her? Of course, that could be anything, because Holly was basically useless.

Their actions, along with their sand freighter, suggested that they were some sort of scavengers. That would explain why they took Holly's robotic companion, yet merely left her after ridding themselves of her futile struggle. But there must not have been that plentiful a resource in the field they were searching; Holly and 3PO had walked for miles without seeing another soul, or robot, aside from the hostility of the sand beings. Why would they spend their lives doing something so useless? Unless…unless the droids were right in thinking that there were settlements somewhere around here, and they just hadn't found them yet.

But if the sand beings found them, that meant that they had been so close….those things, those rats, had ruined their chances of finding civilization in this dust bowl. Those filthy rats had taken 3PO and left her for dead, basically, or at least dying. She would dehydrate sooner than she would die from her injuries. She only had to suffer three days before that happened.

Oh, what was she thinking about? The effects of this weapon would surely wear off before then, and she can find whatever village they had been heading to. The only thing she hoped was that it was not filled with those horrid sand rats as well.

Holly closed her eyes and commenced a review of her day, scolding her every action for being so reckless and ill-planned. Like nearly every time she did this, she vowed to take more consideration in the future to be careful. Like nearly every time she did this, she knew that her vow would never be upheld.

42.

It took Holly a few moments to realize that she was dreaming. For one thing, she was already in a weird enough situation and she was no longer mentally fit to discern the real from the surreal. For another, she had never been particularly gifted in the art of identifying dreams anyway. The fact that she did so now was a feat in itself.

She had never been one to dream of the preposterous; usually, she would see brief images of something related to a current event or activity. This instance seemed to be an exception: Holly could make absolutely no sense of what was happening around her.

Holly gripped the edges of the chair in which she sat with tight fists, the skin around her knuckles white. She could feel that her body was tense, but there was nothing she could do about it. The chair itself was rather odd: it was made up of entirely angles, grey except for the black backing. She observed the scene from a third person point of view, the way she saw every dream.

That meant she could see the entire room she was seated in.

From what she could tell, it was an exact replica of the Enterprise's bridge, with the same red and black railings, and perfect grey walls. The black panels with colored touch-screen controls were exactly as she remembered them; after regaining consciousness, Holly was surprised at the ability of her subconscious to recall command center to perfection. There were officers rushing around her, a mix of red, yellow, and blue shirts, and she was shouting orders; those orders, however, remained unheard to her ears. The officers seemed to follow them anyway.

There was a great rocking motion, much like the really bad camera shaking that was supposed to represent a photon torpedo hitting the ship's shield in the show. However, it was different than just watching it, because she actually felt the harsh rocking. She fell from her tense perch on the captain's chair, stumbling briefly before gripping tight to the rail as the ship steadied itself.

Even after the commotion stopped, her vision continued to rock back and forth. The scene shifted and her eyes began to quickly lose focus of the images in front of her. The colors blended together to form large blurs, before the image completely faded into nothingness.

In the 'real' world (though she was not completely sure this wasn't some elaborate dream, either) her eyes shot open.

Again, her eyes took many moments to adjust to the intense sunlight of this odd un-Arrakis place. Her thoughts were still dismally foggy, mulling over the dream. She was only now beginning to understand the setting and some of the events that took place, though it quickly faded from her memory. The harder she tried to remember what happened, the more it slipped through her fingers.

What she didn't understand was why, even after the dream ended, her world was still shifting rapidly before her eyes.

It was as though she had suffered a jarring impact; one moment, she was blissfully unaware of anything potentially harmful, and the next, she was thrashing around wildly, jerking her limbs and swinging at anything she could have.

It was this jarring impact that brought her attention to the arms around her and the hissing and squeaking of the sand rat beings around her. She felt their hands grip her shoulders and support her back as she was carried in the same position as her friend 3PO. Holly was being lifted above the ground by the rat creatures, their glowing eyes the only menacing aspect of their body, though they were horrid all the same.

Tossing and turning, Holly swung her head to the left and the right, seeing the large freighter quickly approaching. Or, rather, she was quickly approaching it, unwillingly. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck on that thing….where these short beings undoubtedly came from.

Wait….if they came from the freighter, then that must have been where they were going when they took C-3PO! She was being carried by the same people, she was sure by both the noise and their hooded heads. Even if that was the last place she wanted to be, Holly was certain that it was the last place 3PO wanted to be, too.

She could lead a rescue mission! How exciting….technically. Exciting in the 'dangerous tasks that the skilled hero must overcome' and 'probably going to end up killing herself, judging by her luck (or lack of it)' kind of way.

Holly stopped struggling. Since she was in the same position as 3PO, she would be taken to the same place as him….hopefully. She was an actual person, and she had fully regained consciousness and control of her limbs, but other than that, there shouldn't be much of a difference. They must've taken him, dropped him off, then retrieved her. In the meanwhile, she had fallen asleep, but they couldn't have discerned awake with asleep when she was been motionless anyway.

Finally, she would be given the chance to be of some use.

They neared the freighter and dumped her at the entrance. It was harsh and did not bode well for her still aching side, but it was not unbearable. Besides, Holly could handle it. She was a starship captain, after all.

At least, she pretended to be. In this land of make-believe and two suns, it's good enough.

"You could've been a bit nicer," she grumbled as she stood. She observed the entrance.

It had a door that descended like a drawbridge. The entire vehicle was up above the ground on the wheels of a tank, or at least similar to that, and the interior was darker than the outside, which was actually saying much, as the metal shell of the freighter stood as a sharp contrast to the sand. Holly's eyes, adjusted to the brightness outside, were not dilated enough to see any of the inside clearly.

Her captors poked her back harshly with the tip of their guns—it was similar to before in all but the fact that this time, they didn't actually shoot her, for which she was immensely grateful. Holly stepped onto the platform that was both a door and a ramp, walking forward and passing into the shadow that was the inside of the sand rat's Vogon freighter.

Quickly and impulsively, she snatched her glasses away from her face and shoved them into the pocket of her hoodie. They were the only thing metal on her—that, and the IPod that she may or may not still have in her bag, and she did not want them to scavenge it from her.

Speaking of, where was her precious Steven? She did not feel its familiar weight on her shoulders. Turning around sharply, she saw the retreating backs of the small men, speaking amongst each other as one pulled a lever. The drawbridge door began to lift and close, and though she could barely discern man from machine without her glasses, Holly was certain that she saw the faded blue that was her trusty Steven.

She dashed forward, running to the edge of the door even as it rose. They had been moving slowly and leisurely, not afraid of anything, which was understandable. Unarmed, Holly did not pose much of a threat. Yet, she could act swiftly, because they were still within arm's reach, and the rat holding her precious bag was closest to her, being in the back of their group.

Holly reached out and snatched it quickly, taking the short thing by surprise. Elated by her success and now much higher off the ground than the small men, she rushed back to avoid any assault on their part. There was now no way they could get to her.

Unless they pulled the lever.

Oh, please don't let my brilliant plan backfire….

Yes, it was brilliant. Obviously. Holly had taken many years in solitude, hiding away like a hermit in a secluded tower, planning this act to the millionth decimal, graphing it multiple times on the x, y, and z axis. She had its function and inverse function memorized, knew the y value to the tenth power, and had reduced all of her planned motions down to a math, rather than a science.

Sarcasm flowed like an ocean through her brain. She prayed that they did not place so much value on her bag to stop and retrieve it.

After a few tense moments comprised of Holly huddling in what she thought was a corner, staring anxiously at the diminishing gap between the door and the sky, it slammed shut, the loud echo berating her ears. There must be a lot of hard surfaces, for it to echo to that extent.

Well, she did think it was a scavenger ship in a desert. She shouldn't have expected too much decorative and comfortable furniture.

Good thing she didn't. With the planet not being Arrakis, or even the desert planet of Vulcan, she had had enough let-downs for one day.

Holly pulled her glasses from her pocket quickly and slid them on her face. She was in complete darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust, which they could not seem to be able to do quick enough. She slid down onto the floor very slowly so as not to accidentally sit on something offending, surprised to find the floor oddly cool. She would have expected it to be roasting within the vehicle. They must have a cooling system, she figured, and a heating system for the nighttime.

Speaking of, how cold did this planet get at night? There couldn't be that many hours left in the day. Was this like a Mercury, where one side was perpetually scolding and the other perpetually freezing, or did it rotate on an axis? She knew that, in the deserts on Earth, the air conserved no heat, so it froze at night. Was this planet, if that was what it even was, like that?

That led her to question another point; was this planet strictly desert? Or, were there multiple continents, and was this just the worst one to be stranded in? It was perfectly conceivable that she was simply in the Africa or Middle East of this planet.

Hey, she may even find CHOAM. Even though this isn't Arrakis….Holly really must learn to stop humoring impossibilities.

She sighed deeply. By now, her eyes had mostly adjusted. She could see around her a gallery of old scraps of metal—coils, bolts, screws, sheets of metal and the like—with a few complete droids scattered around here and there. If the two suns and the two functioning droids from earlier had not convinced her of the reality of this situation, this amount of robots certainly did—many of the droids were functional, as well. There she was seated closest to one that looked mostly like a trash bin with feet. It creeped her out, possibly even more than the glowing eyes of the sand rats.

Under no circumstances should a trash bin be permitted to walk freely. It was positively outlandish and nearly inconceivable.

Although, on this world, what wasn't?

She observed the other droids with great interest. They all seemed restrained in one way or another, for although all of them saw her, none approached, if they could (some had missing limbs—she counted three legless torsos. Not Legolas torsos, mind you, legless). Holly pondered briefly the nature of these droids and whether or not they were hostile. If they were, they didn't seem in much a position to do anything about it.

Holly remained firmly planted in her small corner, regardless.

She began to dig through her bag. Now that her pupils were fully adjusted, the inside seemed comfortably illuminated, slightly dim; this was a relief, for she had (unfortunately) begun to grow used to the blinding exterior lighting. She could easily see her books, and for once, she had no interest in them.

At the bottom of her bag lay her IPod. Holly hardly ever had use for it, aside from listening to music. Her battery, because she had charged it the previous night, was at a ripe ninety-four percent, and its clock read exactly 11:30 P.M.

No wonder Holly was tired.

She decided to power off her IPod, stowing it away where she had found it. Holly did not want to waste the limited battery, and although there were power cells everywhere, none seemed compatible for her technology.

Again, Holly sighed. It had been a long day. If C-3PO was here, she would find him in the morning. For now, her mind was much too addled with amazement, disbelief, and sleep deprivation to be of any use in a rescue. What little sleep she may have gained from the blaster shot seemed to be null in comparison to how long she had been walking.

She let her eyes close slowly, feeling as though they were made of lead and, before she even took off her glasses, Holly was fast asleep.

42.

There is a reason for all that I put Holly through. If it seems unlikely for her to be on the Sandcrawler, that's because it is, but there is still a reason for it.

Thanks for reading!