SEVEN
"Danielle?"
About to leave the creche, Danielle paused and turned back to regard the owner of the tiny voice that had just called her name. Seeing him toddle up to her, she fell to a crouch to be able to look into his eyes.
"You come back and pway more tomorrow," he said imperiously, still slightly unsteady on his chubby legs.
Danielle grinned. "I promise I will," she assured the little boy solemnly, and he nodded, satisfied.
The nursery attendant, a sweet young alien by the name of Mierette, called to her, "See you tomorrow, Danielle! May the Force be with you!"
"And you," Danielle returned solemnly, bowing as she'd been taught. Then, with another smile, she exited the library.
It had been only a scant number of weeks since she'd been here, but already it felt like a lifetime. Temple life suited Danielle so absolutely it was growing hard to imagine living anywhere else. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were like a father and brother to her, and equally dear. Her days were spent in studies, of everything from the Force itself to the history of the galaxy. Whenever the whim seized him, Qui-Gon made her meditate or taught her some new focus, to help her better develop her fledgling Force skills. Since she was years behind in training and not so skilled as the others, she was still a far cry from telekinesis or telepathy, but she already began to feel strange stirrings of premonition before anything of import occurred, or to look up seconds before Obi or Qui came in the room. It was unnerving, but strangely comforting as well, to know that she possessed such powers.
There were more aspects to Temple life than she had ever imagined. When, upon attempting to teach her fencing, the vigor of the workout had brought on an unexpectedly intense asthma attack, Obi-Wan had rushed her to the medical ward. When Danielle next woke, not only was she fully recovered . . . but her asthma was gone. The Jedi healers at the temple had cured her completely. She still marveled at the ease of drawing breath and how she was now able to work for hours without any trouble breathing beyond what all humans experienced. It was like a miracle. They'd offered to cure of her need for glasses as well, but Danielle had stubbornly refused, not even certain why she did so but still unbending in her resolve.
Now, she was on her way to another fencing session with Obi-Wan, who was growing practically fanatical about her tutelage. When he realized she had absolutely no self-defense training, he was horrified, and was doing everything in his power to teach her how to take down an attacker of any size. Danielle, always worried about what might befall her while they were away on one of their innumerable missions, was all too happy to agree.
She had no sooner stepped into the hall, however, than an incredible din assaulted her ears. Thunderstruck, she stopped in place-and realized that the commotion was coming from just a scant way down the hall.
Unless she was mistaken, that was a group of no less than four Jedi all holding a leash to one very large, very upset Nexxu. It was doing everything in its power to escape, or at least wreak as much havoc as was earthly possible, and the Jedi were having the battle of their lives attempting to restrain it.
"What's going on?" she asked a young acolyte who was standing nearby.
The young alien shrugged. "Apparently that thing got loose from a private menagerie and was causing complete mayhem in the city. A team of Jedi was dispatched to bring it back here, and now the Council has declared it unsafe. I believe it's going to be mercifully killed."
"Killed!" Danielle exclaimed, horrified. Her voice, surprisingly loud, echoed throughout the vaulted hallway. Down the hall, above the din, it seemed the Nexxu somehow heard her, for it stopped its frantic battle against its holders and raised its head to meet her gaze with astonishing clarity.
For a moment Danielle stood frozen, caught between horror and shock-then with a deafening roar the Nexxu leapt free of its holders in a single bound and came sprinting straight at her.
The Jedi around her, possessed of far better reflexes than she, scattered instinctively. Danielle, however, was too paralyzed to move. All she could see was the ferocious figure of the Nexxu bearing down on her-and then it leapt on her, jaws agape and claws extended.
Danielle didn't even hear the cry of horror from the end of the hall as Qui-Gon, lightsaber ignited, rushed onto the scene just in time to see the huge beast slam into Danielle. With another cry of commingled rage and loss, he dove forward-only to stop in total shock when he realized that, far from screaming in pain and terror, Danielle was . . . laughing?
Sprinting toward her, he drew near enough to see that, instead of mauling her or ripping her to shreds, the vicious creature was pinning her to floor in order to better rub its head against her and purr loudly enough to shake the hall, giant tail lashing dangerously. Danielle, far from struggling, was scratching under its chin vigorously and making soothing cooing noises to it.
It was a whole minute later before Qui-Gon had sense enough to disengage his blade and return it to his side. "Danielle," he called somewhat unsteadily. When he received no reply, he tried again. "Danielle!"
With a muffled grunt she managed to worm her way out from under the Nexxu and stand. As she did, she idly continued to pet the beast, which in response butted her so hard she nearly fell over again. Regaining her balance, she asked in a very small voice, "Yes, Qui-Gon?"
"What . . . why . . . what are you doing with that . . . thing?"
"It's not a thing," Danielle said indignantly. "He's a gorgeous Nexxu kitten. Aren't you, sweetie?" she cooed, turning again to scratch the kitten that was nearly as tall as she.
"Danielle, that's a ferocious wild animal!" he exclaimed. "It's not some domesticated pet for you to play with! It's dangerous!"
Danielle glared at him. "He certainly doesn't seem dangerous to me. He's not ferocious, just scared and lonely. His misses his mother and doesn't know we're only trying to help him. Well-" she glared at the Jedi who had been holding the leashes who were now approaching cautiously, "-some of us are trying to help him."
Following Danielle's line of sight, the Nexxu spotted the approaching Jedi and gave a low growl deep in its throat. It hunkered down, ready to pounce, but Danielle made a little meowing noise and it turned again to face her, prey forgotten.
"You see?" she said happily. "He's fine with me!"
At that precise moment Obi-Wan came skidding around the corner, his lightsaber also ignited. "Danielle! I felt your fear and a terrible premonition, so I came run--what in the Force?" Seeing Danielle snuggling with the giant cat, he stopped dead, totally stunned.
"This lunatic of a girl seems to think she's completely safe from this-this-terrible monster!" Qui-Gon exclaimed, rapidly reaching his wit's end. "She won't listen to reason!"
Obi-Wan looked at Danielle, at Qui-Gon, then back at Danielle again. Then, barely managing to disengage his lightsaber, he doubled over with hysterical laughter.
Glaring at him, Danielle said to Qui-Gon, "He's harmless, really he is. I promise he won't hurt a soul."
"Going on here, what is?" a small voice demanded
Everyone turned to face Master Yoda. One of the Jedi began to explain. "We were just taking this creature to be put to sleep, per orders, when it broke free of its leashes and dove after this girl. We thought it was going to attack her, but . . ." She gestured helplessly.
Danielle crossed her arms defiantly as the Nexxu looked at Yoda as though considering whether he was just small enough to eat. "They were going to execute him, and he wouldn't hurt a soul! It's obvious he's harmless!"
Yoda gave that same serene smile as he looked at the Nexxu. "Seem to be fine when in your presence, he does."
Danielle leapt forward. "Oh, please, Master Yoda, please don't let them execute him! He's a sweet Nexxu, really he is! I-I'll take him myself, if I have to!"
Qui-Gon exploded, "What?!" and Obi-Wan stopped laughing abruptly. "What did she say?"
"I believe she just offered that this thing could share our apartments," Qui-Gon snarled. "Not nearly so funny now, is it, padawan?"
"Hold on just a second," Obi-Wan cried to Danielle. "We live there, too! The Gumba fish is bad enough! I won't share living quarters with another thing with a penchant for eating people!"
Danielle ignored them both and fixed Yoda with her most pleading gaze. "Please, Master Yoda," she repeated desperately.
The little Jedi Master's ears twitched with amusement. "A life saved, a blessing from the Force is," he said serenely. "As long as the beast shows good behavior and harms no one, stay with you, it can."
"Master Yoda!" Qui-Gon cried, horrified, as Obi-Wan groaned, "Please tell me you're joking!" and Danielle cried, "Oh, thank you, thank you!" Ignoring the general pandemonium Yoda's words had caused, she turned to her new Nexxu and rubbed its ears until its eyes closed in bliss. "You're mine now, sweetheart," she soothed. "You're safe now with me. I'll take you back to our apartment and you'll have a place to sleep and plenty to eat and I'll play with you every day . . . Such a sweetie . . . I'll call you Sweetums," she said with sudden decisiveness. "Yes. Sweetums."
Obi-Wan looked torn between laughter and horror. "'Sweetums'? You're calling a giant man-eating monster Sweetums?"
Danielle shot him an evil look. "Do you have a better suggestion?"
"How about we don't let it live in our apartment?"
Danielle turned to glare at him. Sweetums, sensing her displeasure, also began to growl. "Are you saying you'd rather let an innocent creature be slain than share refuge with it?" she asked ominously.
Obi-Wan looked at the now bristling Nexxu uneasily. "Uh . . . no. Of course not. Silly of me." He forced a smile until Danielle turned away, satisfied. "And you, Qui-Gon?"
He threw his hands up. "Between our fly traps, the Gumba fish, the Nexxu, and you, I'm just starting to commend my soul to the Force right now. You'd better make sure no one gets eaten, girl."
"Would Yoda have let me keep him if he was going to eat anyone?" she asked sensibly. Sweetums whuffled agreement, its long tail curling around her lovingly. "Come on, my widdle kiddy," she purred to him, "let's go find us some dinner, hmm?"
The Nexxu looked pointedly at a very alarmed Qui-Gon.
"No, no, these are my friends-besides, I don't think he'd taste very good. I'll tell you later what you can and can't eat, okay?" Still chatting amiably, she and Sweetums strolled off down the hall, heading for the apartment.
The hallway cleared slowly in their wake. Finally, only Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were left.
"Exactly what have we gotten ourselves into?" Obi-Wan asked into the silence.
Qui-Gon clapped his very distraught padawan on the should. "Just keep asking yourself that question, my boy. It's only going to keep getting more pertinent from here on out, I imagine."
Obi-Wan groaned. "Come on, let's go and try to get some dinner before those two monsters eat it all."
In complete accord, they warily followed Danielle and the Nexxu back to their quarters.
Annie awoke to a sensation of incredible heat, pain, and a gritty feeling in her eyes that made it hurt to open them.
With some difficulty, she sat up, trying to take stock of her surroundings. It was early morning, the sun having just risen, and she was here in the middle of the desert, all alone, with no sign of civilization in sight. At first, she couldn't fathom what had happened, and merely remained motionless for a moment. Then memory returned in a relentless wave of agony, and she crumpled over, fighting to keep a cry from escaping her lips. She'd already lost too much moisture last night, crying herself to sleep like that. She couldn't afford to lose any more today.
Wearily, she forced herself to stagger to her feet. She ached all over, and her spirits felt no better. In the space of a single evening, her entire world had collapsed, and now she had no idea what she could possibly do . . . about anything.
There a strange peace to everything, despite the heat. Everything but the wind was perfectly still and totally silent, motionless under the baking sun. The sand dunes roiled on endlessly in all directions, free of any obstructions such as landmarks, and the night winds had taken even her footprints. In profound horror, Annie realized she'd lost all sense of direction. She had no idea which way she'd come from.
She was well and truly lost.
Fighting despair, she shaded her eyes and looked around. In one of these directions lay civilization; she knew that much. So, if she headed in one of them, she had about a fifty percent chance of eventually spotting some kind of discerning landmark. It seemed a better plan than just staying there and waiting to die, at least.
Examining herself, she ripped off all of her costume's accouterments that weren't totally necessary and fashioned a turban out of them, tucking her hair up on top of her head. Knowing she should keep as much of her skin covered as possible, she made arm wrappings out of the lightest material she had, and discarded much of the rest. She couldn't think of any possible use for it anyway.
Then, with a lift of her chin and a prayer, she headed off toward the rising sun.
Time grew meaningless. There was nothing but the pounding sun, the waves of heat shimmering visibly in the air in front of her, the glare rising off the sand. Her throat drew so dry she doubted she'd be able to speak, and she felt patches of her skin that weren't covered starting to burn in the relentless glare. Her limbs grew tired and her eyes stung from the airborne sand the wind carried, but still she toiled endlessly onward, knowing that if she stopped she'd never rise again.
It seemed she'd been walking hours before she began to see some kind of rock formation rising out of the sands. At first little more than jutting boulders or a patch of rocky ground, they soon developed into towering spires and formidable gorges.
Swallowing a distinct sense of unease, she trudged wearily onward, trying to ignore her desperate thirst and throbbing headache. It wasn't until she began to hear furtive noises that she truly began to be afraid, and move her feet slightly faster.
It was to no avail. From the rocks in front of her suddenly bloomed an entire tribe of Tusken Raiders, masked and robed and armed with gaffi sticks.
Annie, having seen Attack of the Clones, knew the Sand People often kidnaped wandering people and drank the moisture from their bodies. Not wishing to endure such a fate, she turned and fled in the opposite direction-and, with ringing whoops, the Sand People pursued.
Her previous exhaustion and physical misery were wholly forgotten as she summoned every ounce of speed she possessed to try and escape her attackers. Even still, her body had reached the end of its endurance, and with a terrible gasping sob she felt herself stumble and begin to slow as the Sand People inexorably closed in on her. In only another moment she tumbled and fell sprawling onto the sands, flipping herself over to hiss at the approaching Tuskens.
Annie truly believed she was doomed as, with hooting noises of derision, they drew their gaffi sticks and headed steadily toward her. Her mind whirled frantically, praying for some kind of escape--when a miracle occurred.
The sand in front of her suddenly began stirring, as though blown by a nonexistent wind. As she watched, dumbfounded, it slowly rose up in a towering column of dust and grit, like a miniature cyclone-then with a great shrieking noise it slammed forward into the Tuskens.
Total mayhem followed. Shrieking, the Tuskens tried to defend themselves with their gaffi sticks, but the weapons were totally ineffective against the formless sand devils that assaulted them and drove them back. As Annie stared stupidly, she saw that the cyclone split into several individual sections, unmistakably driving the Sand People away from her. Then, she realized that each individual storm cloud was not only pushing the Tuskens back, but that it did so in the form of snarling mouths, clawed paws lashing outward, and a dozen fierce weapons, like sculpture made in the air.
After only a few minutes, the Tuskens shrieked their defeat and fled, unwilling to face such an inhuman power. Annie herself was too terrified to react. She could only continue to stare, gasping in fear and exhaustion, as the sand pursued the fleeing Tuskens out of sight, then slowly returned and drew to a stop in front of her. As she cringed away, it consolidated before her very eyes. Annie only had time to see the sand fall away, revealing only the flickering and unreal shape of a human man, before her eyes rolled up in her head and she passed out.
She next woke to the blessedly sweet sensation of water trickling over her lips. At first she drank thirstily, hardly even aware of what she was doing-then her eyes flew open and she jerked upright, spilling the cup.
To her astonishment, however, there was no one there to hold it.
She appeared to be in some kind of vaguely familiar dwelling, placed gently on a small cot with a cold compress on her forehead. She had no memory of coming here, nothing beyond the sands forming a shape strangely like a human being-and though everything around her indicated signs of care, she was totally alone.
Beginning to be truly afraid, she looked wildly around her. "Who are you? What's going on? What do you want from me?"
The voice that replied seemed to come from the very air around her. "Please, my dear, there's no need to be frightened. I'm only trying to help you."
Annie froze, then looked around her with wide eyes. "Where-where are you?"
A soft laugh, an extremely cultured and gentle noise, followed her question. "Everywhere . . . and nowhere. I am no longer in any place that is within your realm of understanding. But for the moment . . . I suppose I may say that I am here, with you."
Annie blinked. "Where?"
The air in front of her shimmered-and the ghostly, transparent image of a man formed before her, benevolent and ethereal.
Annie drew in a sharp gasp. "You're-you're Obi-Wan Kenobi!"
The specter cocked its head and looked at her curiously. "Indeed. I'm surprised you know me, young one. Few do, these days."
Realizing she'd given herself away, Annie ducked her head, face burning. At the rate she was going, it was amazing she'd lived this long.
"There's nothing to fear from me, child. I hope you can tell that I mean you no harm, and even if I did, how could I hurt you? I am currently rather . . . intangible."
Annie raised her gaze again, memory returning. "You. It was you that saved me from the Sand People."
That silver head inclined regally.
"But . . . how? Aren't you . . . dead?"
"The Force is a powerful thing, young one; though I have returned to it physically, I may still command some of it to serve such purposes. Besides," he smiled, "I saved you before, as well, remember?"
Annie simply stared for a minute, then gasped. "In the alley with the stormtroopers-that horrible noise-" She felt rather like one of those feckless heroines who, after being captured by the villain at the end of the movie, suddenly have an almost psychic knowledge of every nuance of the enemy's plan and make sure the villain knows they know, so they must be killed. Hopefully, that wasn't the case here.
The specter seated himself on a nearby table. "A krayt dragon call. Effective in almost all circumstances for frightening unwanted visitors off. One can learn some useful things, in isolation on Tatooine."
A sudden thought caught at Annie. "Please, sir. Has . . . has the Death Star been destroyed?"
He looked at her in amusement. "Several years ago, young one. You should keep up with current events better."
Annie grimaced. "No, I meant-the second Death Star."
He stared at her. "How do you know of that? So few did."
"And . . . is the Emperor dead, and Vader redeemed, or has something gone terribly wrong?"
Kenobi stood up abruptly. "How do you know all of this?"
Annie sat quietly for a moment, wondering how to answer. After a long period of thought, an answer occurred to her. She had to trust someone-why not Obi-Wan Kenobi, whom she knew to be true and courageous? "If you answer my questions, I'll tell you-everything."
He too was silent for a moment, then nodded. "All right. Yes, the second Death Star was destroyed when the Executor plunged into its side. The Emperor and Vader both perished with it."
Annie looked at him keenly. "You are certain both were not already deceased when the Death Star was destroyed? And that one of them was no longer even on it, but whose ashes now reside in a funeral pyre on Endor?"
Kenobi was looking at her like she'd grown another head. "How can you know all this?"
"Tell me. Was that what happened?"
He shook his head, amazed. "Yes. Young Luke journeyed to the Death Star in hopes of retrieving his father from the Dark Side and was instead brought before the Emperor, that thing which I had feared the most and tried the hardest to prevent for so many long years." He shook his head. "I was so afraid we all were lost, for if Luke had turned to the Dark Side, he would have been far more terrible than Vader and the Emperor ever were. But, impossibly, he did not. He retained his purity and stayed a Jedi, and instead it was Vader who was redeemed, sacrificing himself to kill the Emperor and, in so doing, saving the life of his son." His pride in Luke shone through his words. "And now the last of the Jedi shall become the first of the new order, and they shall rise from the ashes to be stronger and more pure than ever they were in my lifetime."
Annie smiled faintly, suddenly beyond caring. "The old Jedi were corrupt, yes. But there were a few-you among them-who compensated for the failings."
He whipped his head around to look at her. "But-you would not even have been born before the Jedi fell," he said in surprise. "How could you possibly-?"
Annie shrugged simply. "You will find I know many things I should not." She grinned. "I should think that you, being dead, have a little extra wisdom yourself."
He smiled wryly. "I take your point. Indeed I do. But you, my dear, are alive-and you were going to tell me how you have such knowledge."
She closed her eyes. "I . . . I'm not from here. Not even from this galaxy."
"From which one, then?"
She opened her eyes. "Where I come from, we only know of one galaxy with life in it-in fact, we know of only one planet with life on it. I come from there."
He looked at her, shocked. "Fascinating. But still, I don't see how--"
She interrupted him shamelessly. "Everything here--this entire galaxy--is a story, a fairy tale of a sort, where I come from."
He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. "You have a lot to tell me, don't you?" he asked softly.
Annie smiled weakly, but with no small amount of relief and release. It would be so good to tell someone, at last. "Yes."
Krista awoke to one of the most pounding headaches she could ever remember having.
Blearily, she half-sat up, grimacing as the world spun around her in an extremely disorienting manner. Where was she? Certainly not in her bedroom; everything here, despite the blur, was unfamiliar. Then, abruptly, she remembered. She was in Star Wars; she had been, in fact, for the past few weeks. But this wasn't her room in the Theed Palace, either. So where . . . ?
When she remembered, the last vestiges of dizziness and disorientation vanished and she sat bolt upright with a hiss of displeasure. The Prince! He'd drugged her drink and obviously dragged her here-- . . . but where was 'here'? What did he plan to do with her? How long had she been unconscious?
Scrambling unsteadily to her feet, she waited a moment to catch her breath, then headed as stealthily as possible toward the door. Seeing the pad that would open it, she reached for it with a faint hope it wouldn't be locked . . . but it slid open before she could even touch it, revealing a smugly grinning Gerogonian Prince.
Krista sprang back with a cry, shocked out of her wits, and sat back down on her cot. When she recovered her composure, she was on her feet again in an instant, snarling. "You! How dare you show your face to me, you--you lowdown--cad--" The temptation to use her by no means small store of profanity was nearly overwhelming, but, surprisingly, Eirtae and Yare's teachings held. She was still, even if only in the smallest and most ridiculous manner, a representative of the Queen and a lady of quality. Even under duress, she wouldn't give the Prince the pleasure of descending to his level.
"Hello, Lady Kristae," he purred, closing the door behind him and gliding toward her. "It's marvelous to see you awake again."
"You must have a lot of courage," she sneered, standing her ground and meeting his eyes squarely and fearlessly. "You do know what my lady will do to you when she catches you . . . don't you? Diplomatic immunity or no, I've no doubt she will take great pleasure in exacting her revenge on those parts of you that cause the most pain, especially those that ensure you have a gender . . ."
His face, for the first time she'd ever seen, twisted, becoming shockingly ugly. "I don't see as how you should be the one making threats, Handmaiden," he sneered, looming over her in his most intimidating manner. "You are completely under my power here."
Krista looked him over instinctively--and, consequently, noticed something extremely interesting. He wasn't armed. They were alone. He must not consider her much of a threat at all.
With that, inspiration struck; and so, when he stepped menacingly closer to her, she obligingly cringed and backed away, much to his apparent satisfaction.
"Wh-where are we?" she gasped, her eyes darting about as if in mortal terror.
He became condescending again in the blink of an eye. "On my private starcruiser, heading for my private apartments. We've almost arrived, in fact." His smile was an intriguing blend of endearing--and lascivious. "There, I can begin to woo you properly without any . . . distractions."
I'll be damned if you will, she thought fiercely, but she merely widened her eyes and said only, "Your--your apartment?"
He wasn't stupid enough to tell her where they were, alas. "That's right. And believe me, no one will ever find us there." His smile was one of the most terrible things she'd ever seen. "You're mine now, Lady Kristae."
Before Krista could lose her temper and blow her whole poor-little-me act, the door slammed open behind him. "My lord! There's a ship in pursuit--it appears to be a Nubian Starfighter!"
Before the words were even fully out of his mouth, Krista drew a deep breath, summoned all her courage, and lanced out with one of her feet, knocking the prince's feet out from under him. As he wobbled, shocked, she lanced out again, this time catching him in the groin. As he doubled over with a moan, the faithful retainer who'd come in through the door fumbled for his weapon. Krista didn't give him a chance to draw it. With a deafening roar, she leapt at him, knocking him to the ground and snatching his gun herself. As he tried to grab a handful of her hair, she scrambled to her feet and sprinted away, running like mad. As she ran, she swore that the next time she saw Sache she was going to offer her a lifetime of unpaid servitude and worship. She'd never expected those scant but rigorous weeks of Nubian self-defense training would save her life, but already they had.
As soon as she reached another door she slammed and locked it behind her, panting wildly. Her heart was hammering so fiercely she thought it might burst out of her rib cage, but she only hesitated a moment. She knew what she had to do.
It was only the work of a few minutes to find the cockpit. She kicked the door open and sprinted toward the nearest pilot before the others could react, placing her nozzle of her stolen gun against his temple as everyone around her froze. "Nobody move, or I remove a vital organ!" she screamed. Noticing furtive movement behind her, she spun wildly around. "All of you--get in front of me! Drop all your weapons on the ground and put your hands in the air!"
Shooting her evil looks, the Gerogonians complied.
"Now, you," she addressed the silently shaking man she held hostage, "are going to set this ship down on the nearest planet."
"B-but we're not close to anything," he stammered. "It would take days--"
"Do you take me for some sort of idiot?" she hissed. "I know we wouldn't be out of lightspeed unless we were in orbit of some planet. Land this ship now or I start to remove unessential parts of you first. And don't you dare radio anyone and tell them anything," she added to the room in general. "If the Nubian vessel behind us hails us, tell them to follow us down, but nothing more. Is that clear?" They all nodded warily. "Good. Now get moving!"
It was astonishing how quickly the cockpit became a blur of motion. Out of the viewscreen in front of her, she could see a planet loom suddenly into view, massive and beautifully inviting. She could only pray that it wasn't a place wholly loyal to the Gerogonians she was currently holding hostage, or she was pretty much screwed.
As they drew nearer, however, she realized the view was vaguely familiar. "Coruscant!" she said, shocked.
"Yes, ma'am," the navigator returned nervously. "Wh-where should I land?"
Krista frantically scanned the great expanse of city before her. Spotting a vaguely familiar-looking building, she gestured at it fiercely. "Over there!"
Nodding jerkily, the navigator complied, steering the ship toward the designated location.
After a few tense moments, a beep made everyone jump. "Er . . . ma'am?" one of the others said warily. "Our two escorts are hailing us, demanding to be told what's going on."
"Make no reply," Krista snarled, biting her lip. It was only a matter of time before they figured out what was going on, but they wouldn't dare shoot at a vessel containing the Prince.
It was several teeth-grinding minutes later before the navigator finally set the ship down on a well-trafficked landing pad. "Good," Krista said, wondering what to do next. "Now-"
Before she could finish her sentence, the door slammed open behind her, shocking her into whipping around. The Prince and five armed guards stood there, guns all trained on her.
"Drop your weapon!" one cried. "Give it up, girl!"
For the space of a heartbeat Krista was frozen, unable to decide what to do. Then, quicker than thought, she whirled around and fired--right into the transparent viewscreen.
It shattered under the hail of blows, and even as everyone instinctively flinched back, Krista threw herself forward, diving through the shards of broken and falling grass to the freedom of the ground below.
She hit hard, but as soon as she got her feet under her she started running, sprinting off into the distance like mad. Her mind barely registered the gleaming Nubian starfighter setting down on the pad behind her, and she certainly didn't have the presence of mind to think to run toward it. In a blind panic, she just raced ahead, shoving through crowds and frantically preying, as the Gerogonian guards boiled out of the ship behind her and shot off in hurried pursuit.
As she made a sharp turn down another alley, her long gown tangling around her legs and her breath hitching in her throat, it occurred to her that the situation didn't look good at all.