Classic Crimes

[Squee]

On Onderon:



“My beautiful queen… Are you okay?”

A hand touched her forearm, resting on the green, white cushioned rocking chair’s armrest. Sali’s trance had been broken but she didn’t incline her head to acknowledge her handmaiden. She made no sound to answer the servant either. Her eyes remained forward, viewing the expanse of her manicured gardens over the white balcony railing, which was currently sunset orange splashed by the sinking sun. The breeze on the balcony stirred Sali’s loose hair, counteracting Sali’s previous attempts to brush out her hair. The waves, created from the day’s braids, were tangled and the ends were frizzy. Her brush was tipped in her loose fingers, perfectly balanced so it did not slip.

“Let me finish your hair for you, milady.”

Sali did not have anything against her servants. When the handmaiden’s fingers grew precariously close to Sali’s own hand, her grip snapped closed on the brush. She did not want the handmaiden to take the brush. Sali wished the handmaiden would depart, leave her to sink back into her numb trance. She’d taken to these evening sittings as of late. Staring into the gardens, looking for something in the flowers that would make her feel a little bit better for herself.

She was worrying the servant; she could tell by the way the other woman touched fingertips to the back of her brush hand. “Please, milady. If I leave you out here, your hair will entangle into a further mess. Should you sleep on it… I would like to minimize the amount of pain you feel in the morning.”

Sali loved her hair. Waist-length and thick, a solid, even brown from root to tip. It was simply a pain to look after. Took patience to brush it in the morning. A lot of hair product to keep clean. Need to be as smooth as possible before she went to sleep.

She stood, turning depressed brown eyes to the handmaiden and nodding once, murmuring about how they should go inside. Sali took another look into the gardens, eyes finding the fountain from that one night. That beautiful fountain. She was drawn to the balcony railing, which was warm against her bare forearms. Fountain of a memory worth remembering. Yet it brought mixed feelings to her heart, making her feel hopeful yet choked on sadness.

"It's obvious you don't understand. You don't carry the weight of a system that helped found the republic. I can't afford to have such a soft heart.”[/b]

“Yet that night you helped console my soft heart, Rook.” Anger toward his drunken words had long since been relieved of duty. Now remembering the words brought… heartache and regret. She wanted to believe he had been inclined to incredible impulsiveness due to drinking. She had consumed her fair share of wine that night as well, and she regretted her reaction that night; throwing the contents of her freshly filled wine glass in his face and abruptly storming out. The wine probably stained his nice clothes too. A shame, since she often loved his choice of clothing.

“My queen?”

Her arms made soft scratching noises as they rubbed off the balcony. Sali lifted the front of her nightdress and went inside, where the handmaiden was waiting with a pair of short shears to cut off the split ends.

---

Jozeyph loathed waiting. He’d been waiting for three days. Waiting for his partner’s nerves to calm down. Why was she always jittery whenever they were on missions? Repulsively jittery. To the point that she made him wait a few extra damn days to complete the mission jittery. Why was she even trying to be Sith anyway? What had the master seen in such a fragile, nervous creature?

Yet harrumph all this and that he wanted to, as soon as the critical part of the mission began, she would mellow out. He hated the fact that it took forever to convince her to begin the mission. As soon as she started, she would be fine. She would follow the plan’s outline accordingly and promptly. She was conniving and underhanded when she was in the mission’s critical zone. But everything prior, he dealt with a hopeless, spineless wreck who questioned everything about the plan. Were they ready for it? What if that happened, what if this happened. She needed a backup plan to the backup plan of the backup plan of the original plan. All these what-if scenarios needed to be satisfied. She needed to know the nitty gritty details of everything. They’d only needed to resort to a backup plan once or twice. What was such the big deal? She would never do the missions if it weren’t for him pushing her to do it. She would never arrive on the planet. She probably wouldn’t have even left Korriban if it weren’t for him.

“Force be damned! Quit that shaking!” he snapped at her. What was with the shaking? “You’ll be damned fine when we’re in the palace. No! Don’t even start babbling. Tonight, we’re doing this tonight, dammit. We’ll go back when that sleezy Beast Rider gets his butt sore on this planet’s precious stone throne, and Iniquitous has to promote us. And it’s not like we’re facing a damn king who was training in the Force and owns a damn cortosis spear to gut us with.” He took a breath and finished, “I hate waiting.”

The damn moons. They gave off so much light. Thank the Force he was excellent at camouflaging and stepping softly. Peering around the corner, he eyeballed the guards standing by the palace wall. Then he checked his chrono. Then at the guards again. Then looked up at the moon. Back to his chrono. It had barely been a half a minute. “Ffffft,” Jozeyph hissed. “I hate waiting. Seems that’s all I ever do. I wait for Master, I wait on you, I wait to begin the mission, I have to wait to be promoted, wait while flying, wait to be docked, wait to clear security, wait for the right time… Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. And they call this a fast, busy galaxy? Three quarters of the time, we just wait!” Guard. Moon. Chrono. Partner. Guard… Chrono. “We’ve waited long enough. Let’s get started. We have a queen to kill. A damn fortress to secure possession to, too.”

He drew upon the Force, fracturing the lighting and shadows around him. He eased slowly into the moonlit path to the gate, slowly changing the bend of light. It was best if he kept to part of the shadows and part of the light. As he began stalking along, he picked his places to be in, staying in as much shadow as possible as he grew closer to the guards. Then he began changing his sound output; hiding what little, small slotch sounds the balls of his feet made. Jozeyph held his breath as he skirted the guards, passing through the gateway opening with alerting the man and woman on duty. He was beginning to tire a little now, though, and he found a deep shadow for him to crouch in. The cloak dropped and he took a deep breath before reaching out to see if his partner had made it past the gateway yet.

He hardly waited though. He drew on the Force again, creating a slightly better than lousy cloak, and hurried up the long walkway to the front steps of the palace. Stepping lightly and swiftly, taking the steps three at a time, Jozeyph found a dark slot next to the half pillar jutting from the body of the palace. Again, he reached out and looked for his partner in the Force. He hoped she would remember she was going for the open side door on the northern side of the palace…

[Meira]

This was a big deal. He wasn't treating it like a big deal. Why wasn't he treating this like a big deal? This was life changing, never go back, stuff. Why wasn't he acting like it? All he wanted to to do was rush into it and be done. But didn't he know that success was the fruit of careful, extensive planning? The thought of his impulsiveness caused a shudder to run through her body, causing the ink black fur to stand on end.

Brinit was manically going over the details in her mind. The plan and each contingency plan were forever imprinted there, a tree of possibilities that had an answer to every possible scenario. In this, was security. In this was success. Why couldn't he see it?

“Force be damned! Quit that shaking!”

The shudder stopped halfway through her tail. Brinit turned her large eyes toward Jozeyph and glared at him as she shook her tail out. [/i]If I don't worry, who will?[/i] she thought, but didn't say out loud. It was no use.

When he started into complaining about all the waiting, Brinit rolled those eyes and tuned him out, just as she'd done in the days she'd been planning their every possible move this night. She learned there was no use in arguing it out with him. Jozeyph had many skills, but planning and patience were not among them.

“We’ve waited long enough. Let’s get started. We have a queen to kill. A damn fortress to secure possession to, too.”

His movement away had caused the Kushiban to do a double take. What was he doing?! He'd ruin everything and they hadn't evens started yet.

He was cloaked before she could catch up, but they'd worked enough together to know each others moves. While she relied on her natural ability to camouflage herself, he pulled his from the force. Brinit didn't envy him this talent. She knew how it fatigued him. For her, blending into the shadows was as natural as breathing.

She was through the gate not far behind him and slinking off into her own direction. Divide and conquer. They'd have more success if they took two paths toward their intended target, and less chance of getting caught.

She hurried along, using a hedge as natural cover as she circled toward the north side of the palace. A faint but familiar tickle at the back of her mind told her that Jozeyph had gotten to his first position and was checking that she had done the same. Well he'd have to wait a moment. Her legs weren't nearly as long his and it simply just took her a bit longer to get from point A to point B.

A few moments later, she was in position, her eyes focused on the side door that would be her entrance into the palace. Step one hadn't been ruined after all, though Jozeyph tried his damnedest. When she reached out with her senses, Brinit could detect no life in the small room on the other side of the door. It seemed the coast was clear.

Brinit scurried to the door, moving as quickly as she could to open it, enter, and close it behind her. That short little distance had seen her completely exposed, but there was no one around to witness it. Leaning against the door, she huffed a little sigh. Now it was time for step two.

The room was small with upright lockers lining most of the wall space. It was here that workers would change their clothing when transitioning from outdoor to indoor work. Some lockers had heavy work boots and coveralls hanging in them. Others stood empty. Brinit's eyes ignored these things, searching for the feature of the room most important to her needs.

There.

Just at the corner of the room, near the ceiling, an air vent. Wasting no time, Brinit began to scramble up the lockers, using clothes and hooks for leverage to heave herself upward. The grate covering the vent was a simple thing, a conveniently loose screw making it all the more so. In no time, Brinit was scuttling through the ventilation shaft toward the security office.

Within minutes, Brinit was perched behind another grate, her large eyes watching a man carefully. He sat at a bank of monitors, all of which showed the various areas of the palace. As she watched him, Brinit let out her senses, trying to detect Jozeyph. Once she had a sense of where she was, she searched the screens.

As Brinit felt Jozeyph moving into what would be the camera's sight, she willed the man to look away. "Your shoe is untied" she thought as her floppy ear gave a slight wave. The man looked down at his shoes and Jpzeyph passed through the camera's sight unnoticed.

This process was repeated several times until Jozeyph was standing outside the security room door. "Your shift is over.' Another wave of her ear and the man stood and moved to open the door.

"Time sure flie--"

[Squee]

She was doing exactly what she needed to do. Good. Staying in shadow, Jozeyph slid one long leg around the pillar while keeping his chest and stomach pressed firmly against it. His other leg slid after him. He did this several more times, conserving his camouflage abilities, around other half pillars rounding outward from the palace. His lithe body slinked around the corner, curved over several pillars to stay out of the moonlight to minimize notice from eyes that may be looking, or possibly might chance a look. He did have to pause once, folding his arms against his chest and squeezing tightly into the corner the pillar and wall made, as a two-man guard patrol sauntered by him. The man was talking to the woman about how he should go about surprising his wife on their anniversary. How cute.

Jozeyph slid around the pillar and stopped before the door. He placed his hands on the door and focused his energy into searching the room for individuals. There was one, but it wasn’t moving. Frowning, Jozeyph keyed the door open with the guard ID he’d pick pocketed from a patrolman a few nights ago, straightening up parallel to the door and waiting to see if the body would come out. After several moments, the door swished closed again. Cuing the door to reopen, Jozeyph strode in and saw that his somebody was sleeping on their bunk, curled into a ball. Why wasn’t this one on patrol, he wondered. On quiet feet, he stepped toward the opposite door of the small guardsman bunkroom. The second door didn’t require the ID, and Jozeyph found himself in a lit ivory hallway.

His lips drew back and he hissed a little as the brightness hurt his dark accustomed eyes. Turning left, he walked rather upright and boldly, as if he belonged there. Better to behave like this, like any guardsman, in front of cameras or in case he ran into a patrol. Might give them pause, briefly thinking he was one of them, before they began to question who he was and what he was doing here. Why was he walking so boldly? Jozeyph smiled, fangs showing, at the thought of the guards being unsettled at his presence. That pause would be long enough for Jozeyph to incapacitate them. Also, if Brinit was being in anyway helpful, she would be distracting whoever was watching the cameras.

However, his trip down and hall and around the corner was uneventful as he reached the security room door. He waited several moments before the door began to open.

"Time sure flie--" The end of that sentence was punctuated by a “gluk!” as Jozeyph’s strong hand snatched the security guard by his throat. In reaction, the guard’s body jumped naturally in surprise, making Jozeyph’s task of throwing the man to the ground easier. On one knee, he leaned his weight on the guard’s neck, grinning as the door behind him closed.

The guard made terrible choking sounds but his training wasn’t lost on him. The guard’s arm flashed upward, connecting under Jozeyph’s chin. Jozeyph let out an involuntary hiss of pain as the guard’s hand jerked the bone spurs jutting from his chin, reeling back in his surprise. The guard yelped when the spurs split open his skin. Then a knee hit Jozeyph’s side. His body shudder under the blow and it served to make him angry. He leapt onto the guard, shoving the man back down onto his back, and clutching at one of the guard’s wrists and pinning it. Jozeyph, by nature, had superior strength, and years of working to make sure he never showed weakness. The knife was in his hand, hovering over the guard’s head, and the guard had his hand up to guard him. As Jozeyph let the knife linger high, the guard looked confused as to whether to attack Jozeyph or to keep his hand up to attempt warding off the knife.

The knife came down swiftly, but Jozeyph jerked it to a stop as the guard’s hand flashed upward in front of his face. Jozeyph lunged with an open mouth. His jaws snapped shut, fangs piercing into the soft flesh in the palm. The guard was screaming as Jozeyph ripped his teeth free, tearing away flesh and sending blood everywhere. The knife came down again, viciously, slicing the side of the guard’s neck, opening that artery wide. It seemed the guard knew it was over then, and lay there, arms against the floor, fearful but not surprised. Jozeyph spat on the dying man, speckling his face with his own blood.

“You humans never tasted good.” The man’s reaction failed to entertain him. He stood then, dabbling the blood off his chin spurs. Jozeyph hopped on the desk and peered through the ventilation grate. He grinned, his teeth pinked by the blood. “He had no chance.” He spent a moment loosening the grate, then pulled it off to allow Brinit through.

A monitor suddenly flashed and a “bedoop” sounded. Jozeyph cocked his head, reading the words on the screen. Check in. They hadn’t heard from the security guard in an hour. Jozeyph spat again, trying to clear his palate of human blood, his nose crinkling. He looked at the mess on the floor, somewhat pleased, but also annoyed. It was supposed to be a bloodless kill. Things never went as planned. “We need to go. They’ll come to check on him soon.”

He ushered Brinit out of the room. As the security door slid shut. Jozeyph ripped the door’s control panel off, plucked a couple of wires free, and then reattached the panel. He pressed the key in button, and it blinked red. He slid his guard ID and it blinked red. Good. He charged down the hall, rubbing his tongue on his sleeve, still trying to eliminate the salty blood taste. “They taste so nasty,” he muttered under his breath.

He turned a corner, preoccupied with cleaning his tongue, and smashed, body to body, nose to nose, with a member of a three party patrol squad. Jozeyph couldn’t help the high pitched yelp as he jumped back. He had smashed both his incredibly sensitive nose and squished his tongue between his forearm and teeth. He ground his teeth and blinked as his eyes watered, holding his nose. All three members of the squad made surprised gasps before one ordered another to sound the alarm. One turned all the way around and bolted back down the short corridor they had just come from.

Jozeyph felt himself excite and panic at the same time, despite his pain. “No, no, no!” he shoved the first guard aside with a strong, forearm strike. The second one in his way, he surged toward, and the guard instinctively winced away, allowing Jozeyph to dart around him and give chase to the one who was running.

[Meira]

The anticipation rippled through Brinit's fur as she watched the guard move to the door. Her fur, now a metallic grey to match the vent she crouched in seemed to shudder. The door opened and the guard began to speak, but he was quickly cut off as Jozyeph sprang on him. Brinit couldn't help the way her fingers twitched with excitement as she watched the two struggle.

Then Jozyeph bit the man and slit his throat. The air soon filled with the scent of the man's blood. It was so strong that Brinit found herself licking her lips, tasting the hint of iron the aroma brought with it. By the time Jozyeph removed the grate, Brinit's fur had changed once again. THe grey had turned to a more flat tone, but through it were streaks as dark red as the blood that now covered the floor of the room. The Kushiban barely registered anything but the mesmerizing color with now also found it's way to her irises.

She inched closer to the pool, her tail moving in quick flicks of excitement. The warmth of the blood was still prevalent. She could feel it hovering over the puddle, as if perhaps the man's spirit still lingered. One look up to the guard's eyes disproved that, however. They were dull and lifeless.

Brinit was inches away from the blood when Jozyeph pulled her out of her hypnotic trance and they moved from the room. He fiddled for a moment with the controls, and then they were off again. She heard his comment this time about how the man tasted horrible. Her mouth felt dry and the idea of his blood practically had her panting. Just a taste. That was all she wanted.

Suddenly, they found themselves face to face with more guards. Jozyeph acted quickly, shoving one guard, darting around the second and sprinting after the third. The first man had gotten pushed right into the wall, his head hitting with a crunch and he toppled to the floor, unmoving. The second, however was still very much conscious and so as he cowered from Jozyeph, Brinit used his distraction to her advantage.

Taking three strong strides, Brinit pooled her momentum into the muscles of her hind legs and sprang up, landing on the man's shoulders. She quickly had her sharp claws in the man's neck. Just as the guard in the control room, this one found his life draining out of him and quickly fell to the floor. Brinit kept her balance on his shoulders as he fell, stepping to his back as he landed on his stomach. A glance along the hall confirmed that Jozyeph had the other guard handled, so she turned her attention back to her claws.

Bits of flesh were stuck to some, but mostly they were just dripping with that hypnotic substance. Slowly, she began to bring one claw to her mouth, when the sound of doors and footfalls caught her attention.

"Jozyeph!" she called in a loud whisper. Darting down the corridor after him, she glanced about to get her bearings. They weren't far, but all of this killing had slowed them down and was sure to be discovered soon.

"Come on! This way!" Jozyeph would have no trouble following her. All he had to do was follow the tiny crimson paw print path that ran along the otherwise spotless floors.

[Squee]

The runner was fast. He rounded a corner and Jozeyph sped around, and came to a confused halt as he saw the corridor was empty. Footsteps beat behind him, and Jozeyph whipped about completely, seeing nothing but hearing the footsteps. With a hiss, Jozeyph leapt back to the corner in short bounds. As he turned the corner, he saw the clever guard running back the way they’d come and turn into a hallway they’d overshot before. Growling in his throat, the Zygerrian man propelled himself, pushing his body forward by will. The damn guard wasn’t going to best him. Wasn’t going to live either.

The pounding of feet echoed horrendously loud through the empty corridors. Jozeyph had begun to pant, but his senses were in overdrive; he didn’t know how fast his body was tiring. He was oblivious to his short breath. His brain was shut down to the noise he was generating with each stride and every whipping sound as his clothing snapped. A breathless laugh began to bubble from his throat when he noticed he was gaining on the guard. A wild cat’s grin started drawing back his lips.

The guard stopped before a small box, protruding from the wall. His hands fumbled for his pass card that would allow him access to the alarm. Jozeyph buckled his legs and let his body fall back. His feet contacted with the guard’s shins, knocking the man off balance. To Jozeyph’s surprise, the man buckled on top of him, but the surprise dissipated as Jozeyph grasped the guard by the shoulders. He pushed them around, pinning the guard to the floor with his knees in the man’s shoulders.

“Not so… quick now, are ya?” he panted, pausing for a deep breath of air. The guard squirmed useless, his hands scrabbling on the smooth white floors. “You’re pathetic. Didn’t stay to… fight. Obviously… not strong enough… otherwise you would… n’t be sent to sound the alarm. You are… weak. On my… planet you would… be turned into a slave. To serve the strong. To serve me.” Jozeyph reached a clawed hand down, grasping the young man by the chin harshly. Turning the guard’s head back and forth, Jozeyph tilted his head, inspecting the pinned man’s face. “I’m sure some Zygerrian would have loved you. A lean, muscled young thing like you.”

”Jozeyph!”

He let go of the guard’s chin and unsheathed his knife in reaction to the unsuspected interruption. “What?” he hissed back.

”come on! This way!”

“But…” Jozeyph whined, glancing down at his captive. The guard swallowed and jutted his chin defiantly, but the man’s eyes showed fear. Every man was afraid to die. Jozeyph grasped the guard’s chin again and pushed his knife against the man’s cheek. “I… cannot take slaves at this time. Pity.” He sliced open both sides of the man’s neck, followed by a deep jab where the neck connected to the shoulder. As Jozeyph pulled the blade free, the blood began to gush rapidly, freely pooling in bursts onto the floor.

Jozeyph stood up and the guard reached his hands to his neck. It was already too late; the guard would be dead in seconds. As much as he wanted to see the life disappear, he stepped away and followed Brinit. Or her paw prints, rather, spotting on the floor in smeared maroon splotches. He followed them up some stairs, rubbing his eyes because the moonlight blared through the windows opposite the stairs, lighting up their pale color to mirror the three moons. The paw prints were fading here, barely a touch of bright red. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Jozeyph was reaching out with the Force to feel Brinit. They were coming up on their designation: the queen’s chambers. Dozens of doors lined either side and the hallway ended in a T. What was with so many damn doors? Did she have a different bedroom for each day of the month?

The sudden, screaming alarm damn near scared Jozeyph to death. The big feline-like man leapt upward, huge ears pricked up and eyes wide. His breathing rasped faster as his heart pace thudded beyond normalcy. “Brinit…” he said between loud blasts. “Plan. B.” And a squad of guards raced by in the corridor that was perpendicular to the one the dark siders were standing in. “Because. They’re. Going. To. Get. The. Queen.”

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

The alarm jolted her awake. She heaved in a giant breath as her fingers clutched at the covers, which were pushed to her waist. The adjoining door opened and her handmaiden stepped through, hair amiss, one arm through a robe, and a blaster pistol gripped in her hand. Another roused servant swept around the handmaiden, scooping up the queen’s robe.

“My queen, hurry, hurry, get this on! The guards will be here any second! Hurry!

Everything felt surreal, and though Sali’s body shrieked urgency, she thought she was moving much too slowly. The air had turned to water and she was moving sluggishly through it. Sliding off the bed, Sali turned her back to the servant, held her arms back, and shrugged on the robe as it slid up her arms.

The main door opened and the first guardsman burst in without announcement. He reeled momentarily, offset, and Sali could only think it was because of her nakedness. The guard behind the first didn’t break stride, merely shoved the first out of the side. “Pin that robe and lets go!” Sali pinned her robe as the servant turned to get a sash. “No time. The pin will do. Dunovant, stop blushing like a girl and take point. Milady, if need be, I will pick you up and carry you. You are my priority.”

“I know.” She was shaking slightly. Sali rubbed one of her wrists, trying to calm her down and hide how frightened she was. It had been several years since the alarms had gone off outside of quick practice runs for new security staff. The man who’d spoken to her, Tenohver, she found out, nodded to her and gently took hold of her arm.

“Stay near me. We will get you out.” He pointed to the adjacent room her handmaiden had come through. Right, they left her chambers by the side doors, because it was highly probable the intruders would come through the main door. The last two of the squad took position just inside the handmaiden’s room. One more stood beside the handmaiden’s door leading to the main hall. Sali was lead/shoved politely through the following adjoining room to where two of the most prestigious servants slept. She was remembering now. She went two rooms over. The hope was the intruder would go to the main room, and then the ones watching into her room would shut and lock the door. The one by the main hall door would dash out and lock her chambers main door, therefore trapping the intruder. Meanwhile, she would be held in the servants room until all was cleared, and then she was rushed to the ship prepared for her escape.

The servant’s room was small, and Sali had a guard at her back, her front, and to her left. Her handmaiden was on her right, holding her hand, which Sali had given to her. “It’ll be all right, my queen…”

All right? All right when there were rifle and pistols drawn? All right when someone sneaks into her palace, possibly to hurt her? Didn’t Rook say her people loved her? She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the war Farrell had promised. This was his way of starting it: ridding her before things became public and consequently complicated. Guards whisking her away in the middle of the blasted night was all right? Lives being set on the line was all right? It wasn’t all right until the intruder inconveniencing her and her palace dwellers was given justice for stealing sleep and threatening life.

Sali squeezed her handmaiden’s hand lightly, giving the other woman a nervous smile. “I know I’ll get out. I know it… I do.”

[Meira]

Brinit was in a full tilt sprint when the alarm started to sound. It startled her so thoroughly that she stumbled, slipping on the last bit of blood still on her paws. Her left shoulder went straight down as that arm slipped out sideways. Her momentum caused her to somersault two or three times before the wall was gracious enough to stop her. When she sat up, one floppy ear was draped across her face and she had to push it aside to get it out of her eyes.

"Brinit! Plan. B." came Jozeyph's called between blasts.

Plan B? How did he know about Plan B? She hadn't told him what it was. Mainly because Plan B involved a great deal more risk on his part than it did hers. She didn't think he would like that, and it was always better to ask forgiveness than permission. Right. They would be getting the queen. So... Plan B.....

Brinit jumped up and whirled around, racing back down the corridor the way she had come. When she came upon Jozeyph, she slid to a halt beside him.

"Ok... Plan B is Plan A, but you do it alone." she said. When she saw he was about to speak, she cut him off. "Plan B is my part. You just keep going!" she turned and began to dash away again. "Show them how.... strong you are!" she shouted out as a final encouragement before disappearing around the corner.

Idiot, she thought to herself as she took another turn down a corridor they had not used yet. Two doors and another corridor later, Brinit found herself in a maintenance room. Like the room she'd entered the palace through, this had many lockers along the walls. This room, however, was close to the hangar, and that was what made it essential for Plan B.

Also like the other room, this had an air duct just above one of the lockers. Brinit was scrambling up toward the duct when she heard voices. In a panic, she tucked into one of the lockers and tried to make herself as small as possible.

Just as she'd vanished from sight, two men entered the room. They were in a rush and were dressed as hangar attendants. Brinit knew exactly why the men were rushing, and it meant Plan B was going as expected.

"Where are the codes?"

"In my locker, hold on a moment."

Suddenly, light flooded the locker as the door was opened. Brinit's eyes grew wide as saucers as she tried to keep behind a hanging jacket. A hand was reaching inside, groping for a pocket on the jacket and it was all Brinit could do to keep from letting fingers graze against her. But it wasn't enough. When the man's fingers touched her fur, they froze, and then the light was blocked by his face as the man leaned in to investigate. Brinit reacted in the first way she could think. She made her eyes big and adorable and rubbed her cheek against the back of the man's hand. Then she tentatively stepped out of the locker, moving on all fours and rubbing the side of her body against the man's leg.

"What is that?" asked the other man.

"I don't know..." the first man picked Brinit up by the scruff of her neck and looked at her. It was working, they thought she was just an animal. With a subtle motion of one floppy ear, Brinit willed the man holding her to turn toward the other.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, his voice suddenly stern and agitated?

"Wha-, huh?"

"INTRUDER!"

The man dropped Brinit and jumped onto the other man, punching and jabbing as the other man protested. The second her feet hit the ground, Brinit jumped onto the two men and used her claws to draw their blood as she'd done to the guard in the corridor. When they were both motionless, she searched the jacket for the datapad the first man had been looking for, clutched it in her teeth, and scrambled up to the air duct. Her timing had to be perfect, and she was surely cutting it close with that little delay.

[Squee]

Plan B was Plan A by himself? The thin fur on the back of Jozeyph’s bristled slightly. What, was she dumb? His lips parted but Brinit snapped at him so quickly he might as well have had no tongue. Yes, she knew the entire details of Plan B. Plan B was her part. She couldn’t tell him any part to play in Plan B? His large ears twitched downward briefly as she began to scurry away.

I’m the damn bait? The big guy? Not the small, bunny foo-foo? A new sensation tingled the center of Jozeyph’s chest, almost like the fingers of fear. Brinit was leaving. And he didn’t know where she was going. What she was doing. He didn’t like that. But he was supposed to keep going forward, be the damn distraction… and hope they don’t kill him before he kills them. By now the guards had to have reached the queen and begun their trained escape with her. He wished he knew where they were going, surprise them, kill the queen and keep all the glory of the kill. Without Brinit’s Plan B. Wouldn’t that be sweet? Jozeyph smiled to himself and his ears picked back up. Maybe he still could. It would be something to gloat about. Plan B would be useless and made in a fit of damn paranoia, of which Brinit had plenty.

He turned the corner at the intersecting corridors and rested his eyes on the door, with an elaborately decorated doorframe, that barred him from the queen’s room. With a deactivated lightsaber in hand, Jozeyph opened the door and slid in off to the side. As expected and what Jozeyph saw immediately, there was no queen. Her bed sheets were shoved off to the side and there was no sign of the fuzzy slippers she might wear. He stepped further into the room, toward her bed, and heard a shout.

Jozeyph’ head flicked up and around long enough to see the last sliver of the handmaiden’s room disappear as the door slid shut. There was a whine and a thunk, like a heavy lock sliding into place. Whirling around half a circle, he was going to go back to the main door but he saw, too late, as a lanky guard keyed in something on the door. A shout of frustration flew from Jozeyph’s throat as he tried opening the door back up. It beeped denial even when he swiped the guard’s card. With a violent hiss spewing from Jozeyph, he flicked on his lightsaber’s ignition and buried the weapon into the door.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~

“Oh holy nine hells, they’re Jedi. The bad ones!” the lanky guard cried as he caught up them. “He’s c-cutting through the main door. Tenohver, we need to get her out of here quickly.”

“Dark siders?” Sali asked. A thickness gathered in her throat, making her swallow difficult. She felt her breath hasten a bit, and only Tenohver’s hand kept her from stopping in fear.

“Agreed,” Tenohver was saying as they continued to walk. He immediately began dispatching orders “You two, stay here and see if you can slow him down a little…”

Sali grabbed onto the lanky guard arm, catching his attention. “Dark siders?”

He nodded. “Yes, my queen. Cutting through the door with a red lightsaber.”

“… and then Thiena… Take these last four. Rhethern and I will take the queen to the second ship,” Tenohver was finishing.

Sali’s heart flipped and she thought she might cry from fear. “No, Thiena.” She grasped for her handmaiden’s arm and caught the woman’s robe. Thiena looked enough like Sali to pass at a distance. The woman’s hair grew long and she had brown eyes. She was about an inch shorter than Sali, however, but not many people were ever close enough to tell. The other woman met Sali’s eyes and smiled sadly. The moonlight showed the determination sparkled in her dark eyes. Those eyes displayed a bravery that Sali failed to have herself, and she felt shame for her fear. That she could not give Thiena the look of a strong queen, but as a scared little girl.

Thiena touched her face, swiping away at the tear crawling down her cheek. “Be safe, Queen Sali. I love you.”

Tenohver’s arm buckled the back of Sali’s legs, swooping her up into his arms. One of the stronger guards with Thiena did the same thing. Both ladies were jostled as the men carried them down the stairs. At the bottom, Sali, Tenohver, and Rhethern (the lanky guard) parted from Thiena’s group, heading separate ways. Sali’s arm was wrapped across Tenohver’s shoulders and her eyes looked back, watching as Thiena and her guards turned out of her sight.

[Meira]

The codes made Plan B so much easier. Brinit had access to all parts of the hangar now, making her infiltration of the ship a walk in the park. The difficult part was sabotaging the engines in a way that would not be immediately noticeable. Certain sensors had to be disconnected so that certain alarms would not sound at start up. It was a task perfectly suited to her detail obsessed mind and tiny fingers. Jozeyph could never be the one to pull of Plan B.

She finished just as she heard activity in the hangar. She was near the ramp of the ship, hidden from sight as the people boarded. They moved quickly, but Brinit caught sight of long brown hair on a woman being carried by a guard. That's her. Brinit thought. This would work perfectly.

At the last possible moment, she jumped from the ship. The ramp closed and the struts retracted as the vessel hovered for a moment before angling for take off. In a flash, Brinit bounded over to the large hangar doors to watch. The ship moved ever upward, picking up speed. It was little more than a speck in the sky...

The flash of light came first, followed a few seconds latter by the boom. The explosion sent the ship flying in tiny pieces in every direction. Each little bit had it's own smoke trail, leaving a smokey spider in the sky, a willow tree of ash and nothing more. Brinit's eyes were large as saucers, swirling with orange and yellow as she watched, savoring the feeling. She'd done well. The masters would know. She turned and rushed back through the hangar, curious now to see if Jozeyph survived.

\\====\\===\\==\\=//==//===//====//

It had been a long time since Rook had a day like this one. His schedule was practically empty. Aside from a few morning meetings, he had the day to himself. He took full advantage of this happy circumstance.

He went riding the majority of the morning, racing across fields and lazily plodding through woods, stopping at streams to allow his mount to drink. Once back at the stables, Rook ate lunch with a few of the grounds workers under the shade of the palace's finely manicured trees. They were good men, a bit awkward around Rook at first, but soon the lot of them were whooping with laughter.

An old friend of his had come calling at the palace not long after that. He was a lord now, his father having passed away. Rook managed to convince him that his business could be addressed at a different time and recruited him into a quick trip to a nearby lake where they swam and forgot their courtly duties, if only for a few hours. They had such a good time that, when they returned to the palace, they contacted more old friends and arranged an impromptu dinner. More laughter was had, and more drink than Rook should have imbibed. But this was his day. He would spend it as he saw fit.

When the last of his friends were gone, Rook retired to his apartments. His head was a bit groggy from the drink, and he smelled of cigar smoke. He ached, a deep, satisfying exhaustion. After showering and dressing for bed, Rook was pouring himself one last small drink before giving in to sleep when his door suddenly opened.

In came a servant, his face first full of worry. It changed suddenly to fright as he realized how he'd entered his king's chambers. He began to stammer an apology, but Rook held up his hand to stop him.

"It's alright." Rook said, motioning for the man to come farther into the room. Rook had been standing on the balcony, but walked back into the room to meet him as the man approached. When Rook saw the worry return to the servant's face, he pressed for the cause.

"What's the matter?"

"Your Highness, I- I don't even want to say the words." the man's eyes looked down and away. His hands gripped a data-pad, white knuckled, held close to his chest.

"Is that for me?" Rook asked, pointing to the datapad.

"Yes, your grace."

"Hand it over then."

The man complied. Rook took it into his own hands and activated the screen. "Have a seat." he said, waving toward a chair. The servant hesitated for a moment.

"Your grace, thank you but... I think I should-"

"Leave." Rook's face had gone pale as his eyes read the words on the screen. He was suddenly still as a statue, not even his chest hinted at the signs of breath.

"Yes, sire." the man squeaked as he bolted from the room.

Rook read the words again and again, unable to look away. It couldn't be true. Not now. Not this way. Not when he'd left things so badly... again. He felt numb, cold. And then something inside of his started to burn. It shot through his veins like an electric shock. His chest was caving in. His head was exploding. He could feel his cells shaking. Soon they'd all shatter.

It was all too much. Rook let out a cry of anger and the datapad went flying across the room. It struck a wall, cracking the screen, falling to the floor as Rook turned and punched a wall. His hand bounced back of the hard surface and moments later it began to swell. He cradled it with his other hand as he too sank to the floor.

Across the room, the screen of the datapad was flickering on and off, flashing the same words over and over:

Sali Hyria, queen of Onderon, is dead.

[Squee]

The line cut through the door shined like smoldering embers and oozed like lava. As Jozeyph completed his cut, he stepped back, reeled his arm back, and launched a Force push into the door. Molten metal glistened in the air and the door struck the opposite wall with a bang before falling down with another. His clothing singed and curled when it brushed against the hot ring as he hurriedly stepped through. His anger was bubbling in his throat and he let out a harsh, throaty growl as he stormed down the hallway. Lightsaber activated in hand, humming, and bloody light arced up the walls and swallowed up the snowy moonlight.

He turned the corner and took a blaster bolt to his shoulder. With a roar of aggravation and pain, Jozeyph hopped back around the corner and watched as a couple more bolts sailed by and scorched the wall. His breathing heaved, coming out in short, angry gasps between his bared teeth as he clutched his shoulder. Plan B was Plan A by himself. The rat. She was no better than a rodent, she was, slippery, sneaking, crawling into unwanted places. She probably meant for him to die and for her to take all the glory. That she succeeded in annihilating the queen of Onderon by herself since he so pathetically died. Damn the bunny. Damn this mission. Damn the guards. Damn the queen. Damn this wound. It burned. Damn the burn. Why did it have to burn of all things? These damn guards didn’t deserve a quick death. They needed to become a mess. A damn glorious mess.

He turned the corner, lightsaber held defensively in one hand. This time when the blaster bolts came, he twisted the blade this away and that, redirecting them randomly. He saw the guards now, two of them, retreating backward and shooting at him. However, then they disappeared downward to his right. The damn stairs. He trotted, and then regretted coming up fast again as a hot bolt sizzled just past his nose and another one struck his right ear. Mostly blind, angry, and howling, he charged awkwardly down the steps, three at a time, then slipped on the second flight and found himself fumbling onto the floor.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammitdammitdammitdammit. The fall had smashed his wounded shoulder. It burned and throbbed and for several seconds, Jozeyph couldn’t bring himself to move, or make a sound regarding the pain. His eyes were watery and the entire front of his face was stinging because of the damn blaster bolt going past his poor nose. But there was anger in his center; a hot flame that was telling him to move.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” said a stern voice. How cute. Someone trying to be declarative and forceful in his presence. He was stronger than them, he knew it. Humans were weak. He turned his chin just above the floor, noticing three pairs of boots near his head alone. So more guards had showed up. He felt the muzzle of some damn rifle touch his good shoulder. “Someone get the cuffs.”

Jozeyph flashed around, rolling on his wounded shoulder, howling as he did so, and grasped the rifle the guard held. He yanked, and the guard came down on top of him. The men around them were shouting to hold their fire, though the rifles were brought up. Jozeyph’s legs had wrapped around his hostage, and he wrapped his good arm across the back of the guard’s shoulders. He hugged his hostage there, on top of him, like some lover in an intimate embrace. The captured guard writhed though, hitting Jozeyph in the sides like he was trained, until he felt Jozeyph’s fangs rest against the side of his neck. The Zygerrian man smiled then, eyeing the guard’s buddies around them. What now?

And then one of the damn guards moved. Before Jozeyph could move to sink his teeth into his hostage’s neck, the butt of the moving guard’s rifle smashed into Jozeyph’s bad shoulder. The yowl of pain was immediate and instinctual. It was long enough for the second guard to wedge himself between the two bodies on the floor and peel his buddy from on top of the Zygerrian. As the brave man pulled the hostage off, he was shouting “nownowNOW”.

Five blaster rifles went off at random intervals, but all were pointed Jozeyph. When the firing stop, the only sounds being made were the pants from the former hostage and his rescuer. The dead Zygerrian had a snarl on his face.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Sali’s feet didn’t touch ground again until she was safely inside the ship and the ramp was closed. Tenohver was shouting orders again, crying out to the pilot through the ship to “get them the hell off Onderon”. She heard the returning affirmative as she stepped back to let Tenohver go by. Rhethern came up to her side though, panting heavily, his face flushed and a frightened look in his eyes. Sali’s tongue was solid in her mouth though, and she had lost control of her voice box. Otherwise, the queen may have said something to the young man. Instead, she could only look at him with a doe’s face.

Dark side. On her planet. No. Nononononononono. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t come here. She didn’t want it here. It was the reason she hadn’t joined the war. The reason she refused. The reason that had made Rook so angry at her. She hadn’t wanted to be noticed as a threat. No threat, and the war didn’t come here, right? No. That was why. No. No. No. Not the dark side. Let it be angry beast riders descending from the sky. Not the treacherous dark that would swallow her people and planet whole.

The ship lurched softly beneath her bare feet. She had lost a slipper somewhere. Her hand clutched at the front of her robe. Her hair needed a brushing. Thiena. “Come,” she croaked softly. She paused for a moment, then tested her choked voice once more. “Come on, Rhethern.”

She led the way to the cockpit of the small, sleek vessel. It had a room for her, big enough for her to share with two others, though it was cramped, with a closet of clothing that would fit Sali and a small refresher. It had one room for four guards, with two bunkbeds squished against the walls, a small light, and then a refresher. There was the cockpit with the bunkbed for the pilot and possible copilot. And then a tiny galley area with seating for four only. The walls of the ship were extremely narrow, only wide enough for one person to walk through at a time.

“Entourage, do you copy?” the pilot was saying.

“Entourage hears. Are you in the air, Valiant?”

“Yes, and with Peacekeeper aboard.”

Peacekeeper? They will have to change that when the darkness settles on Onderon.

“Then fly ahead, Valiant. Entourage will follow shortly. Peacekeeper needs to be-fzt.”

“Entourage?” the pilot asked. Static answered them. Sali’s eyes stared out the viewport.

“Oh… no…” the copilot whispered, his eyes on his camera screen.

“Gareth? What-?”

“Entourage is gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” Tenohver snapped.

“Sir…” the copilot shot a look back at his queen, though, with a look in his eyes that Sali didn’t like. “Entourage has been annihilated. She is… She… exploded.”

Sali’s hands folded over her mouth and mouth but it was behind her that made a retching sound. She turned around to see Rhethern’s back hit the wall just beyond the cockpit’s door. One hand was gripping at his mouth and the other was digging at his chest. His face was red and his blue eyes were brimmed with tears. For a long moment he was silent, tears beginning down his cheeks, before he inhaled a painful, choking gasp. “Thiena,” he whispered first, his hand muffling the name. Then his hand slid off his mouth. “ThienaThienaThiena.” His voice grew louder every time he said her name. “Thiena, Thiena, THIENA!” He let out that awful retch again and he slid down the wall, hitting the floor hard. His arms covered his face and head, and then he began to sob loudly.

He loved her. Sali was as still as if carved from marble, her quiet tears falling from unblinking eyes as she watched her guard sway from side to side. His pained whimpers and cracked cries were the only sounds in the cockpit besides the occasional beep of a monitor. She looked back over at Tenohver, who stared, stern faced, at the floor. The pilots at their screens. Sali sniffled and then moved beside her grieving guardsman, whose sobs made his shoulder quake. She sat down against the wall and drew up her knees slightly.

“Rhethern?” Her voice was tight as she placed a hand on his back. He sucked in a sob and his blue eye peeked from over his upper arm. “I loved her, too.” It was obvious by the way his eye squinted that his face had contorted with his pain. The eye closed and he continued to cry. Sali let her arm rest on his back. His body leaned against her, on the verge of falling into her lap, but he held there. Instead, Sali leaned until her cheek was touching the back of his shoulder, and cried with him.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

“You’re just going to allow my people to think I’m dead?”

“Queen Hyria, I think it’s better for now. We believe there were two people involved. The Zygerrian had no detonation device on his person,” the first councilman informed her.

“It is for your safety. That second person should be given time to believe he succeeded.”

“But the nobles closest to the royal house may make a claim.”

“We have already told the media that we have an ongoing, pending investigation to identify who exactly was on the Entourage. It was the queen’s ship, though, so the media believes that you have died in the explosion.

The casual way the councilman put the Entourage disaster felt like nails clawing at her heart. Thiena… my friend… I’m sorry.

“What about the second ship?”

“What second ship?” the second advising councilman asked. The false expression was difficult on the holo version of the man. “Oh, the second ship that witnesses saw took off? We’re still trying to identify. But security is… being a little tough and prudent with their information right now.”

“So you are just going to tell my people I am dead.”

“Yes, your Majesty. At least for now. The small play in words will make the most ambitious noble pause for some time.”

“No one will want to make a claim for the throne as long as there is a slightest chance that you may possibly be still alive. That is treasonous.”

“I’m aware,” she told the councilmen. “Do my advisors have a suggestion to where I might go?”

“I believe you already know that, your Highness. You do have a friend in the Core Worlds with strong naval strength and the immediate support of the Republic on its behalf.”

“You want me to go to Corellia.”

“We simply want you to be somewhere safe, my queen. We understand your history with King Solosten. We thought your relationship with him might ease the passing of this incident.”

Oh, how much do you really understand?

“Approach as a diplomat coming to inform a friendly monarch of a queen’s last wishes of her friend.”

Sali sighed. “I’m not one for deception.”

“Merely a guise, my queen. Just an explanation for a visitor from Onderon. He will know, to be certain, when he sees your face. Then make sure he vows silence until you can reveal yourself again.”

“He lost his family to assassinations, your Majesty. I’m sure he’ll understand the need for secrecy for a while.”

“We will monitor happenings here and drop hints of your survival when necessary.”

“Is that all?” she questioned them. After an exchange of looks between the advisors, they all affirmed her of nothing further. “Then allow me to go make certain my pilot sets course for Corellia.”

[Meira]

The whole palace was on high alert. Brinit couldn't risk moving anywhere but within the air ducts. It made her search take far longer than she would have liked. She'd circled back to the corridor outside the queen's chambers. The door -well, part of it anyway- lay in the middle of the hall, evidence that Jozeyph had cut his way out. she followed the hall, stopping at grates to peek through. He would have followed where the queen and her guards had fled. Finally, she came upon a group of workers vigorously scrubbing at the floor.

Blood. Brinit thought, but who's? She licked her lips, but the scent was being ruined by the soapy water the servants were using to clean it up.

"I hope that foul creature rots in hell for what he did." one of them said, catching Brinit's attention as she was about to leave.

"It wasn't him." the other responded. Brinit practically purred at that. "He had an accomplice. I heard one of the guards mention it. They're examining the body now for clues."

Their voices lowered after that as they continued their gossip. So, Jozeyph was dead. Well, that possibility was included in the plan. It certainly wasn't her fault he couldn't take care of himself. She wasn't worried in the least that they would find anything on his body. Even Jozeyph wasn't that stupid. Content, Brinit scurried away to find some comfortable nook to hide in until the coast was clear to make her escape.

\\====\\===\\==\\=//==//===//====//

The sweat was beading on his brow, but the mask prevented him from wiping it away. Frustrated, he ripped it from his head and tossed it aside. His gloved hand wiped across his face. The material did little to absorb the moisture and seemed to just spread it around. Cursing, Rook threw his foil down and tore the gloves off.

The man across from him lowered his guard and removed his own mask. His eyes watched Rook carefully, but he did not speak. It hadn't taken the palace workers long to learn to keep silent. Some, who had worked closely with Rook over the years, sympathized with his pain. Others were somewhat surprised at the change in their monarch. Most did not understand. How could they? Rook and Sali had done their best to keep their relationship quiet.

"Some water, Your Grace?" the man had moved over to a table at the side of the room and poured a glass to bring back to Rook.

"Yes, thank you." Rook managed as he removed his fencing vest. He drank half the water and splashed the rest in his face as he sank down onto a bench.

"If it please Your Grace..."

"Go."

The man was quickly out the door without another word.

Rook looked terrible. After the news, he couldn't sleep. He awoke every adviser he had, but none proved useful. There was no one to attack. No one to retaliate against. The best advice any of them could give was that he get his hand looked at. So he did that. Sitting blank faced, he allowed a physician to bandage his swollen hand. He paced after that, and sat. He stared out the window until the sun began to rise.

By the time the daytime staff arrived for their shift, Rook had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a mess. They tried to feed him, but the food had no taste. He tried drinking some more, but his empty stomach couldn't keep it down. Finally, Rook called for a sparring partner, and for a good hour he let out some of his frustration against the man.

But now, he couldn't even do that. He was numb and weak and broken. In a haze, he managed to find his way back to his quarters and into his shower. When he exited, he was clean, but he felt no better. He dressed, but he still felt hollow.

Noticing that the bandage on his hand was ruined, he called to have it replace. The servant that came also brought soup. He spooned some into his mouth as she fixed him a new bandage on his hand. She had a soft smile and brown eyes.

But not like Sali's eyes.

The soup had helped. She took the platter as she left and Rook was alone once again. He slumped in his chair, eyes glazed and unfocused. At some point, he managed to fall asleep.

"Sire."

Rook started, sitting bolt up in the chair and glancing around. The man who'd spoken jumped back slightly, bowing his head and immediately apologizing.

"What is it?" Rook interrupted.

"A ship, Your Grace."

"What?"

"From Onderon. They come at the request of... they say it is a last request of their late queen. They await you in the receiving room."

"At Sali's request?"

"Yes, sire."

Rook stood and waved the man out of the room. For a full minute, he simply stood there. What could they have to tell him? A pain gripped his chest that caused him to sit back down in the chair. How could he meet them? If he did, it would all be real. Rook was surprised at the fear this caused him. All this time, since he'd read the words on that datapad, the pain had been there, the ache at the idea of losing her. But this, facing people who served her, hearing whatever it was they would have to say... it would be final.

He stood himself back up, setting his jaw. He managed three steps to the door before he turned back, retreating to his balcony.

Go. he told himself. Face it. But that was easier said than done. It took the servant coming back to the room to check on him for Rook to snap out of it. He straightened the collar of his dark grey shirt and turned around, following the man to the receiving room.

At the door, Rook took several deep breaths before he opened it and walked inside. In the middle of the room, a man stood, speaking to a hooded woman who was facing away from Rook. They stopped speaking when he entered and the man looked up to Rook.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting." Rook said. "How may I help you."

[Squee]

Arriving as a diplomat on planet proved to have some difficulties. While they were allowed to dock near the royal palace, they were told that King Solosten was in no mood to receive visitors. That was okay with Tenohver, who thought coming to Corellia was a mistake. In Tenohver’s head, whoever attacked his queen was part of this war that was wildly spilling across the galaxy. Corellia was active in this war and a prime target on the enemy radar, considering Corellia was a supplier of some of the sturdiest military ships in the galaxy. Corellia was likely angering the enemy, and it wouldn’t be too long before the enemy turned its attention and focus to weaken stubborn Corellia. His queen, therefore, was not safe.

While Sali appreciated her guard’s concern, she also assured him that Corellia was safe. There were many other ships out there besides Corellia’s, she pointed out; it was a war on the Republic, not on Corellia. The Sith were going to have to deal with many other planets before they, in any strong force, reached the Core Worlds. If Valiant were to float around by itself, there would be no backup in case it was attacked. Hiding in some remote place had a number of difficulties, such as food, medical care, and, again, backup in case trouble found them. Here, on Corellia, they were in reach of civilization for any potential needs. In the palace, there were guards who would be sworn to protect important figureheads. When Tenohver said that would only apply to the king’s safety, Sali smiled prettily and told him he did not know King Solosten like she did.

As long as it is in Rook’s power, he won’t allow my security to be compromised. If it were, he’d come get me. She could only think about the Senator’s Gala, before Rook had ascended into kingship. He had been a mere diplomat and figurehead of his home planet then. When the engines of her ship exploded, he did not have to follow her down. He could have left that to the police and the investigators and watched it on the holonews. He hadn’t, and Sali had realized just what kind of man that she had encountered.

Sali pressured Tenohver to insist that the diplomats from Onderon must be seen by King Solosten. A number of times they were denied; he was too preoccupied. He would receive them when he decided the time was right. “Well then,” Sali snapped when Tenohver approached her with that ultimatum. “Tell them that this doesn’t sound like King Solosten is making this decision at all. His advisors need to step out of the way. Repeat that this is the request of the late Queen Hyria and that this diplomat has a schedule that must be followed, because the late Queen has many requests that must be concluded. If we have to leave, we will not be coming back.” And I really want to see him. By the stars, news of my death has to have reached by now.

They were told they would be received.

Sali dressed in an attendant’s garb suitable for diplomatic status. Tenohver was dressing at the diplomat, much to his distaste. The man was large in the shoulders and tough in the face, and lacked the subtlety and courtesies necessary to be a decent diplomat. His fine clothing made his shoulders look even larger and he walked awkwardly in his dress shoes. He wore an loose and airy coat on Onderon colors and strapped a blaster pistol to his side before he allowed Sali to button the coat tastefully. He checked that he would be able to draw the pistol swiftly without his coat obstructing him anymore than necessary.

With that, he and Sali left the ship. Her attire had a hood attached to it, so she tucked her braided hair in it and pulled it over her forehead. She carried a couple of datapads in her arms and kept near Tenohver’s right elbow, slightly behind him. He kept glancing back at her, but she hissed at him to look forward. He should trust his “assistant” would be there.

Security found Tenohver odd. They ended up stripping him of his pistol with much scowling from Tenohver. He tried telling them a reason to keep it, Onderon suffering an incident, who knew who the assassins were after next, blah, blah, blah. Corellian guards were having none of it; not unless Tenohver wanted to turn right on around and leave the palace grounds. Tenohver fell into a moody silence all the way to the receiving room, with Sali smiling beneath the hood. What a horrible diplomat.

When the door was shut, Tenohver focused on Sali and spoke softly, “Bloody Corellians. Taking my pistol.”

“They don’t know you’re protecting the queen.”

Tenohver snorted, shifting closer to her. “I don’t like this.”

“As you have noted to me before. I appreciate your concern, but I really think this is the safest place for me to be right now. Two guards, one in a deep state of grief, are not going to keep me safe if more Dark Jedi or Sith appear. Let me be here. King Solosten is a good man. This is the same man who came to Coruscant’s undercity after me. Trust a little, Tenohver.”

“You don’t keep people safe by being trusting, milady.”

“Well, trust my judgement, then,” she told him. He didn’t have anything to say in reply. “Be nice to him when he gets here.”

“As you say.”

They waited for a long, long time. Well, long by a diplomat’s standard. They had not been warned of other guests, so Sali was assuming that she was the only visitor. For being the only visitor, this was a long wait. Tenohver began to shift and pluck at his luxurious clothing. Sali watched with some amusement. “You are a guardsman, Tenohver; there is no doubt about that. Maybe Gareth should have been the diplomat.”

“There was no way I was going to let you leave without a guard, milady. And Rhethern… needs some time.”

“I understand.”

“King Solosten is keeping us waiting longer than he should,” he told her.

“Perhaps he was in a meeting.” Though we would have been told.

“Or maybe he just lacks punctuality.”

“Speak kindly of our hosts, Tenohver.”

“As you say, m-“ he stopped short as the sound of a door opened. Tenohver’s posture tensed slightly as he walked around Sali.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting. How may I help you?”

Rook… She smiled beneath her hood, glad to just hear his voice. There was so much memory in his voice, and she felt comfortable already. Still, there was a great fluttering in her chest, where all she hoped for resided. She needed a place to stay. This was no mere visit. He liked her well enough to house her for some weeks, right? All those kisses and hugs back on Onderon…

He sounded proper, but, thanks to Sali’s experienced ear, she detected the darker undertones of his voice. He was troubled. I’m dead. At least she was hoping that was it. If that was why there was gloom beneath his words… Oh, goodness… he looks horrible. And if he looked terrible…

“King Solosten,” Tenohver was saying in greeting. His tone was blunt and she knew her guard did not wear a smile as he spoke. “Your Highness, I ask that your guards be removed and that no servant comes in and out of this room. My queen’s request was intended for your ears alone. I promise guardsmen, I won’t harm him. Wait outside the door.” He gives orders like a captain of the guard.

After brief consideration, the two guards who had escorted Rook bowed and said they would be right outside the door. Once the door was shut, Tenohver continued. “And I ask that whoever may hear us, security and/or advisors, be sworn to secrecy from here on out. Sire, Onderon has need to ask a huge favor of you. I am not a diplomat and this is not my assistant. My name is Captain Tenohver of the Onderon Royal Palace Security. We are asking you to watch and care for my lady until we are certain the danger to her has passed.”

Sali stepped around Tenohver by this time. She could see the confusion beginning to twist on Rook’s face. She handed the datapads to Tenohver while her hand pushed the hood back halfway across her head. “I’m sorry about the deception, Rook. Tenohver said it was necessary.” Recognize me, Rook. Please, please see it is me. If you have been grieving, believe what you see and not what you have been told.

[Meira]

Rook wasn't really sure what he was expecting, but this man certainly wasn't it. Had he not been so distraught lately, he might have noticed it right from the start. The man's build was all wrong, as was his posture. He was big, rigid. He stood tall, but not with the practiced elegance of a man of politics. His posture was strong, unmoving, like a soldier. These things were lost to Rook at first, but after the man began to speak, suspicion grew.

The request, and then the order, for Rook's guards to leave the room had the King opening his mouth say something. But one of the guards stepped to Rook's side and said that the two had been checked for weapons. Rook nodded then and the guards bowed and exited the room.

Then, the man's demand for secrecy truly had Rook's eyes narrowing as he tried to work out what was going on. What did this man have to say that was so important? Rook thought that he'd be receiving a letter, or a trinket perhaps. He had prepared himself for something like that, for the pain he'd feel in his chest all over again. But this man had thrown him for a loop.

"I am not a diplomat and this is not my assistant."

"What?" Rook managed to say.

"My name is Captain Tenohver of the Onderon Royal Palace Security. We are asking you to watch and care for my lady until we are certain the danger to her has passed.”

"For who?"

“I’m sorry about the deception, Rook. Tenohver said it was necessary.”

He'd hardly taken notice of the woman. With her hood and the datapads, her appearance fell into the category of an assistant, and as such, she was mostly ignored. But now she was stepping around the diplomat, who was no diplomat, and lowering her hood. And her voice sounded so...

In that instant, when his eyes connected with hers, ice replaced the blood in his veins, his lungs collapsed, his heart stopped, and a shock went through his every fiber.

"Sali."

The word was half formed, something more like a sigh, and when it left his lips it took his strength with it. He stepped forward, almost stumbling in his desperate attempt to reach her. When he did, his hands cupped her face as he stared at her in disbelief. His eyes we wide and unblinking as he took the sight of her in. His mouth opened and closed, trying to speak.

"I... I tho-" was all that he could manage. He touched her brow, her cheeks, her hair. It was too much. Rook fell to his knees, his arms wrapped tight around her. Part of him didn't want to believe it. It is a trick... a dream, no, a nightmare. You'll wake up clutching nothing but air. But the fabric of her clothes was real. He could feel her breathing. Her arms held him too and there was no mistaking it. Not dead. Not dead. Not dead.

His eyes closed tight and his body shook slightly at the thought. Relief washed over him, shaking him further. Not dead. He wanted to cry, to scream, to laugh like a mad man. Not dead! She was alive and in his arms. He'd never let go. And if this was some strange, desperate dream, he'd kill the man that dared to wake him. She was here, alive. No man or being, no god or force could take her from him now.

[Squee]

"Sali."

Recognition bloomed across his face. Sali’s lungs drew in cool air, and when she exhaled, her shoulders relaxed. A gentle smile found its way to her lips. When he sighed her name, he just seemed to melt. He lost the composure of a king, of business, and became the man she knew on the Golden Coast. The man that comforted her in her gardens.

Her hands reached for him when he stumbled, but he regained his balance. His palms slid over her cheeks, and everything terrible disappeared from Sali’s mind. The doubt she had felt coming to Corellia. That drunken fight meant nothing. It had been silly, foolish, and stupid. It didn’t matter here, didn’t matter now, because the fight meant nothing. Her fears from Onderon misted, because she knew, simply knew, that his touch meant she was safe here. He was going to take her in. He was going to protect her. Just like he had in Coruscant’s slimy, scummy underworld. Once again he was going to comfort her, to reassure her, just like he had in the palace gardens.

“I’m here,” she whispered to him, seeing the width of his eyes. The disbelief. He believed it. He believed it so dearly. It hurt him. Her fingertips touched his elbow, unsure where to put her hands. “I’m here,” she said again, needing so badly to reassure him. She wanted to embrace him in some fashion. How? How? Her hands ghosted lightly up his forearms until the rested on his hands. She pressed his hands more firmly against her face. Looking into his eyes, she whispered, “I’m real.” I missed you. I’m sorry.

”I… I tho-“

“I’m not, Rook,” she said, hushed but firm. She took her hands off of his, again, unsure what to do with them, only knowing she needed to touch him. His fingers began to caress her. His thumbs across her cheekbones. Along her brow. What do I do? Sali took a half a step closer to him and rested her hands on his chest, over his heart. Her thumb brushed a button. “I’m not. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.” She shook her head between his hands, hands sliding up until her fingers touched the base of his collar. I’m sorry for that. I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean… You shouldn’t have… I’m sorry. Sali swallowed hard, trying to delay the tears, but her voice was tight with her regret for her deception. “I never was.” Don’t hurt anymore…

He sunk to his knees, arms around her strongly, tightly, ready to refuse any attempt to unwrap. She didn’t want him to let go. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Her fingers found their way into his hair, gripping him firmly, holding his head against her stomach. She would have rested her forehead against the top of his head if she could reach. Instead, she started to pet the side of his head, fingers and thumbs catching lightly on his ear. I love you. I’m sorry.

Sudden remembrance sparked in her head and Sali looked up from Rook. Tenohver stood a few feet off, looking confused and awkward. She lifted a hand off Rook’s head, pressing a single finger to her lips. You keep quiet about this, understand? Tenohver nodded at her. The hand fell back onto Rook’s head, smoothing his hair. Her voice was soft when she spoke, “This is a yes, Tenohver.”

[Meira]

He might not have moved the rest of his natural life from that spot. And even then, he doubted death could wrestle him away. The world faded around him, unfocused and less than real. This was what mattered. This was all he needed. She kept him here, on the ground. Not gravity. Never something so fickle as that. Her breathing set the rhythm of his existence. her hands in his hair were the boundaries of his world. Outside of her, there was nothing.

Three steadying breaths, then two more for good measure, and Rook felt warmth returning to him. He blinked, his eyes misty, and swallowed through the tightness in his throat. Each heartbeat was bringing him back from the edge. He'd been standing there, toes gripped over the edge, with darkness filling his eyes. The pull had been irresistible. It would have been so easy... to let go. To give in. There might have been a comfort in it. A heart wrenching loss, for sure. But maybe, in time...

But she had pulled him back, and now she held him safely from the edge. He could look away from all of that now. Now that he had something to look to. He'd never be able to convey this to her, but she saved him.

Releasing a sigh, Rook finally allowed himself to relax his grip and sit back slightly. The movement caused her fingers to slip from his hair, and for a moment there was panic at the loss of her touch. But Rook fixed his eyes on hers and willed himself to see the truth. Not dead. He took a moment or two like this, looking up at her, centering himself on the truth of her existence. Then he stood.

"You will, of course, have Corellia's total cooperation, Captain. We are at your complete disposal." Rook said to Tenohver, but his eyes remained on Sali. "We are no strangers to high security measures. I assure you that no word of this will leave the palace." His hand once again found it's way to Sali's cheek, one finger under her jaw and his thumb lightly grazing her chin, lifting it slightly. "You must be exhausted." Rook's chest rose and fell with his breathing. He wanted to wrap her in his arms again, lay his lips against hers, and let the world fade again.

But he had a duty now that she'd returned his strength to him. it was visible in his eyes, in the way his every muscle seemed to awaken. Now that he could breathe once again, he wouldn't waste it. The palace would be prepared, every possible measure put into place. It'd be done by sundown, even if he had to do it himself.

"Captain, ask the guards outside to call my advisers to the Council Room, if you would be so kind." As the man complied, Rook took the moment of his distracted attention to slip his hand to curve around the back of Sali's neck. He pulled her close, so that his brow just barely touched hers and they were breathing the same air. His lips moved, I love you, almost forming the words. Instead, he closed that millimeter of space and pressed his lips to hers. He did this gently, tentatively, with a lingering flicker of doubt.

Rook pulled away quickly, even taking a step back, and balled his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. She'd returned his strength, his life, but the shock of her loss still gripped him. He needed time to process that pain out of his heart. If he dived in now, he might not find his footing again, and he had to be strong for her.

"Would yo-" Rook cleared the tightness from his throat once again. "Would you like to rest?" he asked as Tenohver stepped back into the room. "Or would you prefer to come to the meeting?"

[Squee]

Sadness pulsed through her when Rook sat back, and she let her hands drop out of the expectation he would stand. I didn’t want you to move. Coolness covered the spots he had touched, and that made her want his hug back even more. Instead, though, he looked up at her with glassy eyes. His expression reset the achy tightness in her throat that she couldn’t swallow down and his face blurred. Rook… why did you believe so strongly? If she even tried to fix her throat’s constriction, Sali felt she would lose all control over her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to croak out of her burning throat. Sali drew her fingertips from the center of his brow down the side of his face. Her thumbs stroked his chin and then his cheeks. By then he had decided to stand. Her hands came off him and went to her face, wiping away the unshed tears. As he spoke to Tenohver, she forced herself to take a quivering breath before taking her hands away from her face.

Warmth embraced her cheek as his hand quickly replaced hers. His hand came down and a finger slid underneath her chin. Oh, no, Rook, if I look at you, I might cry again. Please don’t make me… not quite yet… But she lifted her gaze up to his anyway.

“You must be exhausted.”

Her reply was in her small smile. She was tired. From all the travel, from all the debate with Tenohver, from all the hassle to get inside the palace… She hadn’t slept well since leaving Onderon. She’d worried over the dark siders , her safety, and about her people, who must be feeling leaderless without her. Grieved over Thiena. I swear, if I didn’t have two hands that could feel, I wouldn’t be able to tell if my head was missing or still attached to my shoulders. But of course, the effort from holding back her tears was beginning to manifest in a headache.

When Tenohver’s attention was elsewhere, Rook deemed it private enough. He brought their bodies close enough that he immediately filled all her senses. She pressed her forehead fully into his. His closeness made her drop all awareness of her surroundings. That was his job now, because she could stand there forever with his brow against hers and never know what happened around her. A fearsome storm could churn up and begin ripping the palace away stone for stone, and she would not know. Keep me, she wanted to say, but didn’t have the heart to interrupt this moment of quiet.

His kiss was quick, but gentle and not nearly as long as Sali would have liked. He also stepped away rather fast, and Sali had a flutter of panic that she’d done something wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ruined a wonderful moment. Her eyes were full of worry and concern as she looked him over.

“Would yo-… Would you like to rest? Or would you prefer to come to the meeting?”

“Rook,” she said softly, without thinking, trying to see how he reacted. Is it better I go away? was the unspoken question. “I... would like to go to the meeting. Unless… “ her voice drifted off, admitting Rook room to give her some kind of reaction that would tell her the best course of action. “Tenohver can always go in my place.”

“My lady, if I may, I would like to attend whether or not you do also.”

[Meira]

Rook shook his head at Sali's hesitant answer and stepped forward, taking her hands in his. He smiled, a bit weakly, but reassuring. "Whatever you want." Rook said, his eyes firm in the words. He would deny her nothing. It would be impossible to do so.

"Of course." Rook said to Tenohver's request. "I insist, in fact."

With that, Rook turned and led the way from the room. He released Sali's hands, but only for long enough to put one arm across her shoulder so that she walked close to him. His other hand gripped lightly at her forearm closest to him, as if to steady her. He would do his best to make their meeting brief so that she could rest.

And the meeting was just that. Rook's advisers were gracious and welcoming to the queen, offering her kind words of condolences before they settled down and the meeting started. The decision to aid the queen's concealment was supported unanimously and immediately. It was decided that the best course of action was for her to remain in her guise as Tenohver's assistant.

The official story that would be shared with the palace staff was that Tenohver was an Onderonian official who had been away from his planet when the attack occurred and sought the safety of Corellia until the chaos and confusion settled and it would be safe for him to return. They would be given rooms in a more secluded part of the palace, for their privacy, and only the palace's most senior staff would be permitted to enter there. When all were in agreement, Rook thanked his advisers and left the room with Sali and Tenohver.

"Captain, I will ensure that your people have full access to our security personnel. If you have any concerns, please ask for Chief Gordon, he's the head of that department."

Rook continued to explain the details of security to Tenohver as they walked through the corridors to the rooms that were now being prepared for Sali and her people. The suite would consist of a sitting room, two bedrooms with their own bathrooms and a study. They were stately, but not quite "royal" material.

"If you are not comfortable, please let me know immediately." Rook said to Sali as they arrived at the wing that contained their rooms. He stopped in front of the door and faced her directly, taking her two small hands between his. "I cannot tell you what it means to me to know that you are safe."

The door opened and Rook released Sali's hands as a servant stepped out. The woman dipped into a quick curtsey at the sight of her king. "Your Majesty." She said, stepping to the side and motioning into the room with her hand. "Your guests' rooms are ready."

"Thank you." Rook said, then turned to Tenohver, his features shifting easily into that royal mask he so desperately didn't want to wear. "You will let us know if there is anything you need. Anything at all." He addressed Tenohver, but his words were of course for Sali. He paused for a moment, unwilling to say the next word. But he had to trust that Sali would not disappear now. "Goodnight."

Even after the door closed and she was gone from his sight, Rook remained. He couldn't seem to muster the will to move from the spot. Every time he thought to go, his mind would fog and he'd lose himself in muddled thoughts that had no sense to them at all. It wasn't until the servant stepped from the room that Rook was shaken from his daze.

"Sire?" she inquired, standing a pace away. "Is there something you need?"

"Hm? Oh... I, uh... I was just thinking." Rook ran a hand over his face as the servant continued to stand there, watching him expectantly.

"I seem to remember this official... he's fond of plants. Botany or... whatever. Why don't you have some fresh cut flowers placed in the sitting room. Some of the white lilies from the garden, perhaps."

"As you wish, Your Grace."

With that, Rook finally managed to tear himself from the spot and make his way back to his own quarters. Sleep, which had alluded him since he'd heard that dreaded news, now seemed to threaten to interrupt his every step. By the time he got back to his room, it was all he could managed just to guide himself to the bed. He fell face first into its comfort and was fast asleep.

[Squee]

Tenohver decided to use Rook’s offer and authority to its fullest potential. After Rook had departed, Sali had found herself a seat while Tenohver excused himself to talk to the Chief privately. Probably fiddling out any useful escape techniques and planning routes should the need arise. Out of her earshot and hidden to her eyes. So while Sali was sitting there, she began to wonder why she knew so little about her own security. She was the target for safety, so why shouldn’t she know?

By the time Tenohver had returned, with palace schematics, Sali had managed to fall asleep on one of the beds. Besides being exhausted, as Rook had noted, it was also extremely late in the night on Onderon. Besides the stress on her safety and the grief of her handmaiden, she was suffering a bout of sleeplessness caused from the nature of the attempted assassination. Laying in her bed on the ship, she couldn’t help the “what if” statements that flew toward her in the dark. What if the assassins hadn’t messed up? What if the guards had never triggered the alarm? Except… she knew the answer to every one of those what ifs. Sali Hyria would be in a casket, being waved farewell by nobles faking their grief and citizens who would cry from the heart.

She was gently nudged awake by Tenohver. “The advisors would like to speak to you.”

It was dark outside, Sali noted, as she walked in the lounge room part of their suite. She stepped within range of the holoprojector, remembering too late that she must look like some kind of mess. It was early morning on Onderon, and the advisors were looking as crisp as they could appear through projection.

“It was decided this morning that we would release that the destroyed ship did not have the queen, as determined by security feeds.”

“Is that all?” Sali had to stifle a yawn. This is what they wanted her woken up for?

“This will increase the hopes in the people, who are currently very grieved by the thought that their queen is dead.”

“Well, I am not. This will change that. Any nobles acting up?”

“We’ve had a couple of complaints that we cannot sit on this for too long. And then a problem with the Beast Lord.”

“The Beast Lord? Nevermind,” she waved them off informally. “I do not want to know at this point in time. Put it out there that there is a good chance that I am not dead. Give my people something to hope for. Keep the nobles at bay. And if the Beast Lord leads an attack on my city or my people, strike back. One stone thrown against any wall, do you hear?”

All five of them nodded affirmation.

“We do have some knowledge of the assassins and their--”

Sali blinked slowly, holding up a hand. After a moment of expecting silence, Sali let the irritation she felt enter her words. “I do not care to know at this point in time. You have wakened me from my sleep. This can wait until I deem it more appropriate and am prepared to discuss it with you. Tenohver, cut the feed. I’m going back to bed.”

Except, the stupid advisors had put the assassination back into her head. She lay in the dark, blanket and sheet firmly wrapped around her body and covering up to her nose. Sali rearranged the pillows so one was at her back and pressed tightly against it. She even went over to the door and opened it a crack, Tenohver’s study light leaking in and illuminating the room faintly. None of it chased the horrible thoughts out of her mind; she could be dead. She could be dead. Shecouldbedead.

So she got up and went back to where Tenohver was sitting over palace blueprints.

“Don’t you ever sleep?”

“I did earlier, after I got these. Now I told Chief Gordon that I would have my own ideas by the morning. And he seems like a very punctual man. Morning could mean as soon as that da- majestic sun comes up.”

“You’re excused, Captain.”

“Thank you, milady.”

Sali stood over his shoulder, staring down at the palace plans. They were easy enough to understand; hallways, different levels, rooms, stairs… Unfortunately, though, Sali’s sense of direction was laughable. Tenohver would silently draw his finger along paths and make note of them. Soon she was able to sort of guess where she was in relation to the rest of the palace grounds.

“Did Chief Gordon have any suggestions?”

“Simply that we should meet up here.” Tenohver pointed at a spot. “Because if the alarms go off, he’s going for King Solosten. This is a little too far to go, if you ask me, it’s not even a midpoint between here and the king’s chambers.”

“It’s not?” Sali asked gently and inquisitively. As Tenohver nodded and started to move his finger, Sali leaned in closer. For this was information that she was most interested in.

“No, because the king’s chambers are here and we are here. The Corellians will run this path,” he traced, “and they wanted us to run this one. They do not have your best interest in mind, my queen. I will fix this. Even if we have to meet up outside…”

Tenohver’s words faded in Sali’s deaf ears as she quietly stepped back from him. She lifted the hem of her skirt so that the clothing wouldn’t make brushing noises on the carpet. Tenohver was still rambling, more to himself than to her now, when she opened the door. There was a sudden, “My queen?” just before she closed the door again and ran away, trying to reduce the slapping noises her feet made on the hard floor.

The palace looked different in the dark and with only dimmed lights turned on. Sali struggled with remembering the exact turns from the schematics and from her own memory. Her sense of direction became muddled up. She ran into a guard, who gave her directions back to her room, one chastising her that a midnight snack was no reason to be wandering the palace at night. After the guards would pass around a corner, Sali would press on, her direction oriented properly once again. She managed to find the ornate door that marked the king’s chambers.

Quietly she opened it and slipped inside. However she managed to close the door on the hem of her gown and had to open it back up to pull it all the way through. Standing inside, Sali could tell the room was similar to hers in comparison to spaciousness. Rook’s sleeping noises didn’t cloy the air. On tiptoes, Sali crept toward where she thought the sleeping sounds were coming from. Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the room and she started to tell shadowy shapes apart.

Not before she smashed her toe into something hard. Sali hopped back on one foot, sucking in a hissing breath and did her best to control her reaction to the pain. With her toe smarting and lip pulsing from where she’d bitten it, Sali limped toward a bedlike shape. She paused. Should she sit on the bed? Then she was crawling onto it as carefully as she could. Identifying Rook’s head, Sali reached out tentatively and stroked his hair lightly.

[Meira]

He dreamed of fountains. But instead of water, they poured forth golden sand. The tiny grains caught the a light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once, and reflected it out in triumphant rays. He sat on the edge of one such fountain, bathed in the dancing rays of reflected light. He was warm, but it was a warmth that came from within himself. He was at peace, a feeling he'd rarely experienced lately.

Absentmindedly, Rook reached out his hand into the falling sand from the fountain. It pooled in his palm until it could hold no more. He opened his fingers, letting the grains slide through and watched as they landed in the fountain's base. He smiled at the feel of it.

The sound of a soft, small bell caught his ear and Rook turned his gaze away from the sand. It seemed darker now, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe it had always been twilight. He heard the bell again, this time accompanied by a rumbling purr. He turned toward the sound and thought for a moment he caught a glimpse of a flicking tail out of the corner of his eye. Strange.

His hand, still under the falling sand sensed a change. The feel of tiny grains over his skin was gone, replaced by something more... fluid. When Rook turned back, he gasped and pulled his hand away in shock. The golden sand had stopped and now a thick, dark liquid poured forth from the fountain. In this near darkness, it was hard to tell what color it was. Rook brought his hand close to his face to examine the strange fluid. Instantly, the smell of iron filled his nostrils and there could be no doubt. But why?

Rook looked back to the fountain then, down into its base which was filling quickly. He stood as he realized that the fountain would soon overflow. He looked around again, but darkness was encroaching, making it hard to see beyond a few feet. Shapes shifted, shadows moved, but nothing was solid or substantial. There was a growl, a hiss, and a wail nearby, but Rook could see nothing but the fountain as it began to overflow.

Slowly, the liquid grazed the rim, and like folds of silk, spilled over. It moved at a sluggish pace, pooling around the base of the fountain before it started to creep outwards. Rook stepped back, closer to the void, but the pool inched closer. Then, movement at the rim of the fountain caught his eye. Something slipped over, rushing across the thick surface of the liquid until it stopped at the edge of its reach near his feet.

Stooping, Rook picked the flower up. It was in full bloom, its flawlessly white petals unfurled to catch what little light remained. The sight of it shot a pang through his chest, causing his lungs to seize and he gasped for air. And then he saw, eyes wide in horror, the stains his hand had left. Red and wilting, the flower withered in his grasp until it was nothing but ash. He watched the ash fall from his palms down into the liquid that was now creeping up past his ankles.

He wanted to scream, to kick and writhe, but he was rooted where he stood. There was no moving here, not now that it had him. He glanced sidelong over his shoulder. There was this, or the black, nothing else. And while it was agony to stand and let this fluid rise up and swallow him, something about that empty void was all the more terrifying. He could feel it, like gentle fingertips at the back of his neck. It would be so easy to fall and close his eyes forever. The fluid was at his chest now, the smell of iron and death and life was overwhelming. The fingers at his neck pulled more insistently, but he couldn't...

Then there was nothing to do but open his mouth and be filled, consumed, swallowed up. He could feel it in his lungs, his ears, under his eyelids. There was no such thing as air, yet his every cell burned at the loss. And then, just as he was sure he had nothing left to give, a cold crept over him, rushing up his spine and sending a shock so strong through his jaw that he couldn't help but scream...



Rook sat up with a start, his mouth wide open sucking in air, and his limbs flailing in every direction as he almost fell from the bed. His bare chest was clammy with sweat as it heaved up and down. It took several moments for Rook to understand that he was breathing, that it had all been a dream. Several more moments before he ran his hand across his forehead and through his hair. And still more before he noticed the odd weight in the bed beside him.

Rook jumped up then, onto his feet beside the bed. He squinted through the darkness, trying to see who or what had invaded his bed in his sleep. Slowly, her silhouette began to materialize until Rook realized "Sali?"

Cautiously, Rook lowered himself back onto the mattress. His hand groped through the dark until it found hers and he grasped it tight. "Are you alright?" he asked, pulling at her arm to encourage her closer. "What's happened?"

[Squee]

She jumped when he suddenly lurched upward, gasping for air as if he couldn’t breathe. Sali had snatched her hand back to her, pressing it against her chest tightly. Slowly, her heart began to calm down as his breathing seemed to stabilize. A nightmare? A sort of motherly instinct tugged at her arms and Sali wanted to wrap her arms around Rook and hold him close until he was completely recovered.

Except he didn’t know she was here yet. And she didn’t know whether to announce her presence to him or to sit here and wait until she was discovered. Which was the better option? Sali didn’t want to speak and scare him witless after a nightmare. Nor did she want him to turn his head and suffer a heart attack because there’s this strange person in his bed.

As she teetered between the two different options, she fought natural instinct to touch Rook as he fed his hand into his hair. All things considered, it mildly frustrated her that he didn’t already know she was here. Then she could gently grab his upper arm, or drag her hand across the top of his chest, or rub his shoulders… If he knew she were here, she could be doing something to distract his mind from the nightmare. There was nothing worse than a nightmare crossing into real life and the darkness of a room shape-shifting into figures with monstrous teeth.

All entertained thoughts came to a halt when he jumped off the bed though, startling her again. “Sorry!” Sali blurted, jerking her hands up into a passive position as her legs curled closer to her. “I’m sorry! I thought about saying something but didn’t want to scare you!”

In the moments after, Sali noticed just how hard her heart was beating now. When she’d first snuck into the room, it had seemed like a good idea; she wanted to see Rook and he was sleeping. She’d thought that, maybe if she saw him sleeping, she would be comfortable enough to sleep. Maybe if she was with someone she trusted, all her internal strife regarding the assassination would vanish and she could sleep again. Now that she was discovered, there was a slight worry for his reaction. She’d crept into his room for goodness sake! How much was he going to mind? Had she crossed a line that she should have never toed at?

“Sali?”

“Yes. It’s me.”

“Are you all right? What’s happened?”

She curled her fingers tightly around his hand when she felt it. “I’m okay. And… I took…initiative because… I couldn’t sleep. Remember how you said if I needed anything at all? I… wanted to see someone sleep. And… wanted to see you. And then here you were sleeping so I just petted your hair and then you woke up.” Sali tossed her hand up and the back of it slapped her leg on its descent. “So I, uh, intruded. I can go, if that’s better. But not before you tell me you’re okay because I think you were having a nightmare.” Her excuses hadn’t sounded so bad in her head, but now that she had said them out loud, she realized how weird they actually were.

[Meira]

As she began to speak, Rook pulled more insistently at her arm until he could wrap his other around her shoulders. He held her to his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. When she said she could leave, he kissed her hair and squeezed her a little tighter to tell her no. No, she didn't have to leave. It was good that she was here. Why would she be anywhere else? What had he been thinking?

"I'm fine." he assured her. "I don't even remember what I was dreaming about."

It was true. As he calmed down, the details of the dream faded away. What did it matter? It was only a dream. Sali was here now and she needed him. She certainly didn't have to worry about such a silly thing as a dream. Slowly, he lowered himself and Sali back until they were reclined on the bed. He still held her close to his side. Holding her like this, he felt strong. He needed to feel strong. Ever since he'd received that news, he felt powerless, weak. But not anymore.

Rook took a deep breath, relishing the feel of her against his chest as it rose and fell. She would likely get her wish again soon. Her presence was relaxing. It would be nothing to fall back asleep now, holding her, with the smell of her hair fresh in his mind. But he fought the drowsiness. Who knew how long he might get to savor this.

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing each fingertip in turn. He then kissed her palm, then her wrist, and held her hand there at his cheek for some time. "I'm so glad you're here." he finally whispered. Don't ever leave me again. It was a selfish thought, and so he managed to keep it to himself, but only just.