Our Darkest Days: Echoes

[Aaron Belargic]

In the heart of the Transitory Mists, there sits a castle amongst the stars. Flagship of the Hapan Queen Mother, Star Home is without peer. Elegant in design and yet equally formidable in its military defenses, it symbolizes everything the Hapes Consortium stands for – wealth, power and, above all, beauty. Though he had witnessed the vessel from space many times and been aboard on a handful of occasions, Aaron Belargic continued to be awed by the sight of the ships great dome and the ancient castle it housed. Every world in the Consortium had contributed in some way to its construction, lending the hands of their finest craftsmen and artisans to create something wholly unique and undeniably impressive. Truly a marvel of engineering, it was as if they had launched an entire city into space, a self-contained microcosm of Hapan civilization.

“Commodore Belargic, welcome to Star Home.”

Disembarking the transport shuttle which had carried Aaron from the Arbitrator to Star Home, the Commodore acknowledged the servants who had come to meet him with a slight inclination of the head. They wore tunics which concealed little of their muscular torsos. Evidently, the Queen Mother had chosen only the most beautiful of her citizens to populate the court of her castle in the sky. Notably, Belargic himself had not been gifted with such an honour.

“Ta'a Chume eagerly awaits your arrival, Commodore. We must not tarry any longer.”

[Ishara Alastor]

Moving through the artificial community constructed within Star Home was just like walking upon true Hapan soil. Modeled after the administrative capital of the Consortium – Ta'a Chume'Dan – the buildings within the dome were constructed of sleek, dark basalt and reflected the often imposing beauty and grandeur of Hapan culture as a whole. The streets were clean and saw only a comfortable amount of foot traffic, lacking the over-crowding and unpleasantness that so often plagued cities of such a size. Such things were intolerable to the Queen Mother.

To reach Ishara's throne room, Aaron was ushered down a long corridor, whose walls were lined with female guards and whose ceiling was adorned with an immense wind-crystal chandelier. Yet all of all things, the Queen Mother herself was the most resplendent. She wore a gown that shimmered like the Ghost Nebula, fashioned of dark silk interwoven with subtle shifting colors. Men, wearing only loin-cloths, knelt on either side of her royal seat.

“Ereneda... Commodore Aaron Belargic, of the Arbitrator.”

The escort party fell to one knee, as a collective, and Aaron followed suit by submitting himself before Ishara. The Hapan Queen canted her head backwards, proud jaw forward, as she examined those before her. With a haughty wave, she dismissed the men who had acted as Belargic's escort and waited until they had exited the throne room before addressing

“Rise, Commodore. What news from our most loyal servant?”

[Aaron Belargic]

Arms folded behind his back, the Commodore kept his gaze level and directed just beyond the Queen Mother's left shoulder as he spoke; it was considered impolitely to make direct eye-contact with Her when speaking.

“An argosy was discovered hiding within the moons of Shedu Maad. Landing parties from the Arbitrator took control of the vessels and stripped them of any cargo of worth, before sending the ships to Charubah to be decommissioned and broken apart for salvage. Raiders targeting the trade lines from Gallinore have also been apprehended and dispatched to Lorell, to be imprisoned...”

The report continued, as the Commodore detailed those events which had been deemed important enough to warrant the intervention of the Arbitrator. To the unaware, it might have seemed that the Commodore and his crew were never lacking any duties – but the events Belargic recalled had taken place over months and months. Though there were pirate intrusions, day-to-day life aboard the battle cruiser was one spent watching and waiting, following the same well-worn flight path around the perimeter of the Hapes Cluster.

[Ishara Alastor]

For all of his shortcomings, both physical and otherwise, Belargic was nothing if not diligent in his work. There was no denying that. His desire to prove himself had made him a tenacious blood hound, when it came to hunting down the pirates that so frequently plagued the Consortium.

“You have performed your duties most satisfactorily, Commodore... but we have a new objective for you, now.”

[Elaine Alastor]

As much of an impossibility as it was, Princess Elaine did her best to remain unnoticed. The flowing white veils of her ornate headdress would be better served as drapes behind which she could hide, but her mother would never tolerate it. Rather, she had been put here on display. The recent marriage of her brother, Tristan, to Razielle, the Princess of distant Onderon, did not grant Elaine the reprieve she would have liked. If anything, her mother's desire to see her daughter, her successor, splendidly wed herself had only increased and so, she found herself aboard Star Home with the beautiful elite of their civilization. Paraded around, in the hopes that a husband would spring from the luxurious surroundings and shackle her about the leg in matrimony. The thought made her shudder, for she knew her time was running out.

Such thoughts were not her only cause for concern this day. There was a subtle tension in the air that, curiously enough had nothing to do with her. Standing still as a porcelain statue, she watched the approach of Commodore Belargic with curiosity in her gentle aqua gaze.

When her mother uttered that fateful phrase 'but we have a new objective for you, now' Elaine's apprehension about the day increased by measures.

She knew that tone..

[Aaron Belargic]

For years, his mission statement had remained a constant: Patrol the Transitory Mists, apprehending any vessels who are not loyal to the Queen and Consortium. In truth, there was little other work for the members of the Hapan Navy, save for those unfortunate starships who had been deployed to the Japrael Sector to protect Onderon.

“What would you have me do, most gracious majesty?”

[Ishara Alastor]

The Queen Mother spared her daughter only a moments glance. Elaine was not in her good graces at present, and it was growing difficult to remember a time when the child had been. There would be time for her later, however. For now, it was the Commodore's moment in the spotlight.

“Name a successor to take your place as commander of the Arbitrator.”

[Aaron Belargic]

It was difficult to conceal the surprise he felt, but Belargic did not frown or betray any hint of his confusion. Any outward sign of discomposure would be unacceptable, that much was certain. His first thought questionned why he was being removed from his position about the battle-cruiser, but the fact that the Queen Mother had made such a request made that any bargaining over the decision was out of the question. Her word was indisputable law.

“There are a handful crewmen aboard the Arbitrator with the practical experience and theoretical knowledge necessary to assume the command of a Nova-class vessel,” he began, though he felt his heart sank as he saw the expression on the Queen Mother's face – as if to say, if that is the case, why have you been in charge for so long? What she wanted wasn't assurances, it was names, or rather one name. Setting aside his anxiety, Belargic continued, reeling off his recommendation in a business-like manner.

“Captain Varon Farani stands out in my mind as a man suited to a position of leadership. He is.. charismatic and well-liked amongst the crew. Moreover, his service record is near-spotless and has earned, in battle, the respect of his peers and superiors alike. In my professional opinion, he would make a fine addition to the ranks of the Commodore's.”

[Elaine Alastor]

She felt her Mother's icy stare, feeling her own doom was coming fast. It may have already been here, had she not decided to deal with Commodore Belargic first.

When the decree fell from Chume Ishara's lips, her daughter's eyes slid closed to hide her dismay. She could almost feel the laceration of such an order within her own heart. What could have precipitated such a command?

Elaine's eyes opened once more, shifting to the floor rather than at her mother or former-Commodore Belargic. She didn't know where to look exactly. She had no real interest in the running of the Navy, but her mother had just stripped this man's career from him in one sentence, and he was taking it so bravely. Bowing to the wishes of his Queen Mother, the way any dutiful Hapan would, without question. Privately, it stung her own emotions. She understood all too well what it was like to be trapped by the will of Ishara.

Almost defiantly, her eyes lifted toward Aaron. All eyes were on him now, a public spectacle, but hers was the only supportive gaze.

[Ishara Alastor]

With the smallest gesture, the Queen Mother summoned an obedient servant towards her.

“You, there. Send word to the Arbitrator – inform them that the vessels command now lies with Commodore Farani.”

The attendant bowed deeply before hurrying away, followed by Ishara's eyes for only a moment before the Hapan Queen returned her attention to Aaron Belargic. With his arms folded behind his back, decked out into the royal blue and gold of the Navy, he looked like a toy soldier – a game piece, the pawn to Ishara's queen. A little smile curved into her thin, darkened lips.

“...We wonder, Commodore, if you have heard news of the recent Imperial triumph in the Galactic Core.”

[Aaron Belargic]

Considering the question, Aaron arched one eyebrow a fraction. What lay beyond the borders of the Consortium might as well have been a vast and lifeless void, for all he was concerned. The affairs of the so-called Galactic Empire and their rebellion had so little impact upon the Hapes Cluster.

“No, your most exquisite majesty, I regret that I have not...”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine often wondered if there had been something in the past that had made her mother so.. implacable. She was as hard as diamonds, and as unfeeling and cold. Her will was absolute. Chume Ishara was to be obeyed, at all times, not reasoned with, petitioned to, or questioned. If her word was unfair, there was no choice but to submit because..that was just the way things were, but her own daughter wondered, why? Surely even a Queen Mother of Hapes was capable of mercy and feeling?

At the mention of the Core, Elaine's head lifted ever so slightly, then tipped toward her mother in interest. She was not privy to life beyond the Mists, so this was a rare opportunity for news, even if it too seemed tainted with a foreshadow of ill tidings. If she could take a man's career from him in the space of a few words, what then was this news that she seemed almost..giddy to bestow upon him?

[Ishara Alastor]

Ishara gently tapped one arm of her throne and the tell-tale blue light of a holographic image rose into the air between herself and Commodore Belargic. Evidently, though seat had more than just aesthetic appeal though what other commands were accessible at the touch of a button remained a secret, for now...

“Our servants have intercepted a transmission (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=288814&postcount=1) from the Imperial News Network. We found it to be... most interesting.”

Another tap and the image of a new reporter, microphone in hand, came to life and began to deliver his report in a professional, matter-of-fact tone of voice. As the report played, the Queen Mother's eyes did not stray from Belargic's face.

“The Galactic News Network is pleased to report the successful arrest of a man ranked highly upon the Galactic Empire's Most Wanted list of criminals. Believed to be a ringleader amongst the insurgent group known as 'The Rebel Alliance', Dasquian Belargic was apprehended during an attempt to force entry into the private residence of recently appointed Truth Minister, Sanya Tagge...”

[Aaron Belargic]

“...The Procurator of Justice has released reports detailing Belargic's past offenses, which include aggravated assault, murder in the first and second degree, grand theft, fraud, trespass, and acting as an accessory to high treason. It is expected that Belargic will face each of these charges, and more besides, when he is brought before Imperial Court later this week. Until then, he will be held in an undisclosed and high security location, to await trial.”

Though the image vanished, Aaron's eyes lingered for a moment on the point where the reporters face had been. All the while, he had listened in silence, as still as a statue, yet the observant eye would have noticed the slight tick in his left cheek and the darkness behind his eyes. The name of the Belargic family had been forever tarnished by Dasquian's betrayal of the Consortium and throughout the years it had been made plainly clear to Aaron himself that the only way to absolve himself of the burden of his brothers sin would be to hunt the elder Belargic down and removed him from the face of the Galaxy. Now, it seemed, someone had done the job for him – or rather, beaten him to it.

He had always imagined the sense of vindication he would feel at knowing Dasquian was gone, no longer a threat – however nebulous – to the prosperity of the Consortium. Confronted with news of his capture, however, the Commodore felt no triumphant joy nor indeed sadness. The Queen had expressed her interest in the matter and the hint of a smile on her lips suggested she was pleased, but Belargic suspected she would have preferred to try his brother before the courts of Hapes, against whom he had committed the most grievous crime: treason.

“Your... most sapient majesty,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “This is most welcome news, is it not?”

[Elaine Alastor]

It took years of practice at schooling her emotions and private thoughts, particularly from her mother, to not react to the news that had just been made public. Her first reaction was to feel her blood run slightly cold. Her breath caught in her throat, constricting painfully for a moment. A heartbeat later she exhaled, her mask of passive composure carefully remaining in place.

Dasquian..

Not so very long ago that name had inspired girlish blushes and secret smiles. The name represented more to her than just the given name of one man. It was the vocal representation of her young and impressionable desires. She'd devoted many a night to private musings where Dasquian, (the scandalous pirate!), would suddenly appear and resuce her from her pretty prison. He would show up in the night coming out of the shadows and whisk her away to freedom. They would set off together and laugh about how very angry her mother would be... Of course it was all just ridiculous. Her silly little infatuation with him had never even been for Dasquian himself, but for what he had accomplished.

He had escaped.

He had dared to defy her Mother and had gotten out of this life, trading it for another..far away from the regime of Ishara, the beautiful raptor whose talons curved tightly around the golden cage of the Consortium. In short, he was her hero.

“Your... most sapient majesty. This is most welcome news, is it not?”

Her control splintered. Incredulous, her eyes went straight to Aaron in irritation. What a traitor, he was! Elaine, literally, bit her tongue to keep from saying so..

[Ishara Alastor]

“Most welcome indeed.”

There was nothing quite so gratifying – so reaffirming of her absolute authority – as such obedience. She had not ordered Commodore Belargic to turn against his brother, and yet his hatred had flourish regardless, feeding his desire to distinguish himself from the tarnished reputation his elder brother had left behind. In some ways, it saddened her to say what came next, knowing how unquestionably loyal the Commodore had been, but there was simply no other way to proceed.

“Yet.. with its arrival we have been forced to make certain decisions regarding your future here. We do not doubt your dedication to the Consortium, but we are ever mindful of your history, your heritage...

What would you advise of us, Commodore, if we were to discover a contender to the throne in our midst?”

[Aaron Belargic]

Aaron felt his chest growing tight with the weight of the inevitable.

“Your majesty, I would never... you must know that I-”

[Ishara Alastor]

“Must?”

Nostrils flared with a breath inhaled and eyes suddenly alight, the Hapan Queen rose from her throne. Instantly, Belargic knew his choice of words had been foolish. Around Ishara, the throngs of slaves and servants sank lower to the ground, many falling prostrate as she stood upright, noble head held high.

“What we must do, Commodore, is ensure the peace, prosperity and security of the Consortium. For generations, we – the proud dynasty of Alastor – have safe-guarded this Cluster against those who seek to divide us, to poison our peoples minds with talk of false scions and rebellion...”

Her eyes fixed with Belargic's and even as his gaze dipped, overpowered by what he saw in her eyes, the Hapan Queen did not turned away.

“Your very existence is an unsightly blemish upon our great sovereignty. We can tolerate it no longer.”

[Aaron Belargic]

With his head lowered in submission, Aaron felt the racing of his pulse, heard its beat in his ears. The loss of his brother was... a bittersweet triumph, but he had never imagined that this would be the consequence, that his fate would mirror Dasquian's. Steadfast, his eyes lifted to meet the Queen's gaze once more as he spoke with a voice that did not tremble or break.

“In all my life, I have only ever wished to be your humble servant, ereneda.”

[Ishara Alastor]

“Then you will honor this decree as you faithfully as you have done those before it, servant.”

Malice bled into the Queen's words, the first hint of true emotion to be revealed since the Commodore had arrived before her. For a moment, her lips became pressed into a hard line, a fierce gleam in her eyes.

“We hereby strip you of your rank and duties, Aaron Belargic, and banish you from the Hapes Consortium.”

The Commodore, and those present, understood all too well the deeper meaning of the Queen Mother's words. To be exiled from the Consortium – to be so far from the beauty and glory of the Cluster – was a fate worse than death. There was only one thing to do, in such a grim situation...

Breaking away from her position guarding the Queen's throne dais, one of Ishara's amazon-like guard strode forwards toward Belargic and extended a gloved hand, offering him a standard issue military blaster pistol, handgrip first.

“You have twenty-four hours, Belargic,” the guard said quietly, her eyes meeting his without a sign of remorse. “You know what to do.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine did not doubt that a speck of dust hitting the polished perfection of the floor would have sounded off like fire from a cannon in the horrible silence that followed such a sentencing.

Perhaps her own mind was too small to grasp the complexities of her great mother. It could be that she was not bestowed with the same intellect as the incomparable Ishara, however Elaine could not fathom for her own life, or the life of the ill-fated younger Belargic brother why this made any sense now, of all times? Surely, if he were truly any threat to her, the Queen Mother could have dealt with him sooner, not left him to devote his life to her service, to find his loyalty rewarded with this level of malice?

Did no one else see?

No.. They did not.

Even she was not so stupid as to utter one syllable in defense of the poor man. Who knew what fate might befall her for daring to question her mother before the gathered noblesse. Even as much as she would have enjoyed giving Mister Belargic a piece of her mind for his backward thinking, she could not truly blame him for it. That was just the way things were done here..

Eyes locked to the floor in defeat, she hid her feelings deep.

He did not deserve this..

[Aaron Belargic]

When he didn't reach out immediately to take the pistol, the woman – who seemed to tower over him, tall, lithe and panther-like – took a rough hold of Aaron's wrist and forced the weapon into his hand. His fingertips closed over the grip, feeling the unfamiliar texture and weight of the weapon. He was a naval officer, a commander of starships – it had never been fitting of his position or purpose to carry such a crude weapon. It was of Hapan design, that much he could see from the sleek design, but it lacked settings or functions; it's singular purpose was to kill.

“Y-yes, your majesty.” His voice failed him for the first time, as Aaron found himself unable to look away from the gun in his hands for a long time. Gradually, he became aware that no one else was speaking or moving anywhere around him. They were waiting for him to leave, to slink away into a darkened corner and do what they thought too dirty to do themselves. Yes, he realized bitterly, that was it. His final act of loyalty...

Execution was not uncommon in the Consortium, but it was most always done by the gun of command. Another ingenious Hapan creation, anyone shot with the gun of command would no longer be able to tell the difference between their own thoughts and impulses, and orders given by others. Many men had taken their own lives thanks to that weapon – and yet the Queen Mother had spared Aaron Belargic the same fate... or perhaps spared wasn't the right word. Then, he would have blindly followed the order to end his own life, but now he had to contend with his innate sense of self-preservation. He wondered, with a sickness churning in his gut, whether he had the conviction to do that which the Queen Mother had deigned necessary.

[Ishara Alastor]

As Belargic struggled with the realization of what fate lay ahead, the Hapan Queen moved back towards her throne, turning her back on Aaron both physically and metaphorically. Once again seated, she examined the former Commodore with a fleeting interest.

For all the Consortium, it would appear that the grief-stricken Commodore had taken his own life, unable to find peace over his brothers passing by any other means. It was a graceless way to die, but it saved him the indignity of dying before his peers. There would have been honor in a public execution, certainly, but it would also have brought into question whether Ishara had been right to allow a man of his heritage to live as long as she had. The Queen Mother had her reasons of course, yet she knew they would not be contested. None of it would be.

“Leave us. Now,” she said suddenly, only a trace of vexation in her voice, as if the matter had been little more than a minor irritation to her. When Belargic did not move, two sets of hands took hold of his upper arms and began to force him towards the throne rooms exit.

[Aaron Belargic]

It took only a few steps before he struggled against them, shrugged free of the hands on him. For a moment he met each of their eyes with a defiant stare, but the pain and sadness was too plain in him for it to seem any real kind of challenge. Nonetheless, they relented and watched as he turned away.

Beyond the throne room, the long hallway awaited him. The guards who lined the hallway were as impassive as ever. As before, they did not acknowledge his passing, yet now he was aware of it, how he was like a specter passing by.

No one questioned the fact that he was armed. Had they been forewarned of his sentence, he wondered? No guard had been assigned to him, no one to make sure that he carried out the punishment for his crimes. Was the Queen Mother so certain of his loyalty? Aaron looked at the pistol and knew, with grim finality, how fruitless it would have been to use it on anyone other than himself. What could he do, after all? Shoot a handful of guards, perhaps a civilian of importance, before they gunned him down in turn. It would be pointless and whats more he had no desire to see any other Hapan suffer such a senseless end.

Where to do it, then? Where in the city would he meet his end? The Arbitrator had been his only home for so long, but there were barracks within the city, however small they might be. The officer classes of the Navy were permitted to stay there, whilst on shore leave. There was a bar there too, he thought bitterly, wondering if he would need the extra courage.

It wouldn't take long to get there on foot – less than an hour, if he went by the scenic route that crossed the canals and waterways of the western quarter. The city was as beautiful as ever, but just as it failed to notice him, so he was unaware of it, walking with head down and mind focused on a finite point ahead...

[Elaine Alastor]

After the condemned left Chume Ishara's hallowed presence, business returned to a state of normal, as if nothing of an significance had just occurred. Out with one Commodore and in with a new one, just like they had changed shifts. The name Aaron Belargic had seemingly been erased from their silver-gilt tongues, the moment he passed from their sight.

Only one of the assembled seemed disturbed by this, the Princess Elaine. She hadn't moved at all since the proclamation. She was both horrified and sickened by the careless way loyal service was being discarded, to make a point about bloodlines and old insecurities.

She remained as a statue, still and silent until her presence was all but forgotten as everyone else seemed inclined to inch forward slowly, intent upon currying favor with the Queen Mother. Each desirious of being the one to soothe her and flatter. Disgusted, Elaine slowly shrank backward, ducking out of the presence chambers, following in the footsteps of the doomed..

[Aaron Belargic]

To his credit, Belargic put a fair bit of distance between himself and the castle before he faltered. He found himself in the middle of a bridge, his legs feeling like two columns of stone, rooted to the ground beneath them. With a sigh, he leaned his arms against the railing that overlooked the artificial waterway beneath it. A gondola was passing under the arch, the pilot whistling a maudlin tune as he dipped his oar in and our of the placid rivers surface.

Nausea stirred in the pit of his stomach. Twenty-four hours...

[Elaine Alastor]

"You are leaving the reception early, Chume Ta' Elaine.", a voice intoned behind her as she passed. Elaine had thought her departure had gone unnoticed, but her mother's eyes were always upon her, always.

"Yes. I am.", she replied quietly. Her own station as Chume Ishara's daughter, and heiress, had not corrupted her. Even if she was walked over and maneuvered around as a pawn now, someday she would rule and it would be with a gentle touch, rather than with the crack of a whip. Her people's slavish devotion to their Queen Mother would no longer be misplaced, given to a cruel and bitter woman.

Turning, she fixed the woman in her aqua gaze, a guard comprised of lethal grace concealed beneath firm, muscled flesh. One that had the ear of the Queen herself.

"I go to make sure that my future remains intact, as my mother would have it. You may report that I took a sudden interest in the finality of the situation.", she did not explain herself further, but turned back the way she had formerly been heading, and left.

It did not take her long to deduce the direction he'd gone and once she had that figured out, it was only moments later that she spotted him, leaning dejectedly over the hand rails, as if he were willing himself to tumble headfirst into the artificial waterway and be swallowed by the current..

She had no real plans once she had found him. No idea of what she would say to him or of what comfort she could offer. She was just following instinct now. Instinct that led her to his side. Her slender arms folded atop the rail as she stopped beside him, silently joining him in observing the flow of the water.

[Aaron Belargic]

With his head hung forward, Aaron scarcely noticed that he was no longer alone. It wasn't until another gondola vanished beneath the bridge, leaving the water clear once again, that he saw the reflection of someone beside him. What was she doing here?

It took only seconds for him to snap to attention and execute a martial salute, striking his right fist to the left-side of his chest. Years of routine and discipline had conditioned him to respond to the Hapan Princess as such, regardless of his emotional disposition at the time. Still, there was something ragged about the salute and the man who gave it, his once pristine appearance now disordered. His royal blue uniform jacket hung untidily open at the throat and his usually slick hair was unkempt, having been touched and tousled too many times by restless hands.

“Chume Ta.”

[Elaine Alastor]

At the acknowledgement, Elaine smiled sadly, wishing she were anything but her mother's daughter, at that moment. For the first time, she felt truly ashamed of her lineage. Still, she offered a silent nod, returning to looking at the water, still not really knowing what she had come to say, or do.

She knew what had been implied. What they all expected, even anticipated he would do sooner rather than later. She did not want him to do it. The senseless death of a valiant and honorable man would not benefit the Consortium, no matter the petty whims of her mother.

Her smooth brow furrowed for a moment, even as she remained still, watching another boat pass. "What will you do?", she asked, finally.

[Aaron Belargic]

For a time, Aaron did not move. His fist pressed to his breast, he stared level at some point in the mid-distance beyond where the Princess had stood. This kind of informal meeting with the royalty of the Consortium was unheard of, and that she had come to him without guards at her side was all the more astounding. When his salute fell away, his hand instinctively sought out the pistol tucked away at his hip, prepared to defend her life she any attempt be made against it.

When she spoke, however, her question brought a frown of confusion to his brow. There was only one thing he could do.

“I will execute the orders I have been given.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Her gaze drifted to the movement at his hip, and the blaster which rested there, as he spoke. When her eyes fell upon the weapon, the look of displeasure returned to her features. Her bare fingertips ran along the railing, as she considered this, and her next words carefully.

"I see..", she sounded almost thoughtful.

"Banishment.", she said the word softly, gently, not wishing to flaunt his underserved punishment in his face, so much as she was pondering the word itself.

"I have never seen you be anything but faithful to the Alastor dynasty, despite your own heritage.", which apparently was enough of a heritage to kill a man over.

"I wonder then if, before you carry on with your orders, you might see fit to honor a last request.", she looked up at him directly.

"From me...", she clarified.

[Aaron Belargic]

It stung, a little, to hear Elaine speak his fate. That the Princess believed Belargic to be a worthy asset went unheard. The Queen Mother had pronounced otherwise, and Aaron had sworn an oath to her above all others. Yet, he had twenty-four hours. It was not much time, but if it was enough to complete whatever request the Princess had...

“What would you have me do?”

[Elaine Alastor]

Her fingertips ceased their idle roaming along the railing. She paused, pushed away from the rail and faced the man before her, wishing that he would meet her eyes, because what she was about to ask him was personal. So personal, in fact, that she dared only whisper the request, leaning forward as she did so, so that her softly uttered words barely reached his ear, her breath warm, but her manner shy.

"Leave here. Leave this place and take me with you.", her heart slammed against her chest because she could not believe she had uttered such a scandalous and damning request, but still.. she was not backing down now.

"Take me with you, please..", she corrected herself. It was a request after all, not a command.

Elaine had just set herself down a path that was as dangerous to herself as were the circumstances that Aaron found himself in at present.

[Aaron Belargic]

It was not his place to question her, yet he could not bring to mind any reason why Elaine should desire to leave the Consortium. Unless, of course, she believed herself to be the target of some threat. Some boyishly naive part of him dreamed, if only for a moment, of how he might redeem himself by saving the life of the Princess in peril – but it was a ridiculous notion and one that he dismissed seconds later as the stuff of fairy-tales.

“Forgive my intrusion into your private affairs, Chume Ta – but I do not understand why you would willingly... abandon Hapes and your mothers side.”

[Elaine Alastor]

It did not astound her, the level of conditioning apparent even now, that this poor sentenced man's first thought was not of the cost to himself, but of why she would want to leave the incomparable and revered presence of her great mother. Even after what Ishara had just put him through, such was his dedication that he still could not fathom why anyone, especially her own flesh and blood, would want to leave her side.

That was why it had to be him. She would be safe with Aaron Belargic.

However, Elaine did not think he was capable of grasping her motivations at this point. "Does it truly matter what reason I put to words? I need to leave. You have no reason to stay."

She considered that he might say no, and a feeling started to twist inside her stomach. Fear. Fear that this was her one chance to get out of here, to have a life that was her own, and she was going to lose it by not saying the right things. Fear that she would be left behind, and that Aaron would be found dead somewhere in the morning, his memory blotted from the history of the Consortium, like the blemish her mother thought he was. Both outcomes pained and haunted her.

Unwilling to let it happen, if she was capable of stopping it, Elaine moved forward, her soft hands lifted to curl around one of his own gently, claiming his attention more earnestly.

"Please. Help me..", there was a catch in her voice, speaking of the turbulent emotions lurking beneath her calm facade.

[Aaron Belargic]

Aaron tried to ignore the fact that the Hapan Princess was holding his hand. It was not something easily ignored, however. Many men would have killed for a chance to be in her presence - many probably had - let alone the chance to touch her. He could not think of what the proper protocol would be for such an encounter and so deferred to her to lead, in the hope that he would not cause her any offense.

“Where would you have me take you?”

A day was not long, but it could be long enough to accomplish a great deal with sufficient motivation and persistence. Already, cogs had begun to turn in Belargic's mind...

[Elaine Alastor]

The question made her a little more at ease, it seemed at least now he was listening. Where? A destination had not been the first of her thoughts. It seemed a secondary concern to actually getting Aaron's cooperation. Where - did not concern here so long as it was...

"Beyond the Transitory Mists.", her voice lowered to near silence. Such thoughts should not be spoken of, let alone entertained. What she was proposing was forbidden.

"It is the only place we will be out of her reach.", she clutched his hand tighter, mindful of the fact that her mother's gaze would not stay off of her for long. If they were not already being observed, they soon would be.

[Aaron Belargic]

Aaron thought of his brother, and the final words they'd shared. Gently, with a stern expression, he removed his hand from Elaine's grasp.

“If you betray Her, She will never allow you to return... never.”

[Elaine Alastor]

When he pulled his hand free from her soft, but insistent grip, Elaine thought her cause lost. Her hopeful expression turned forlorn and her own gaze dropped to the ground.

He would not help her.

Even were she allowed to return, which was unlikely, her life would be irrevocably altered from the scarce amount of freedom she enjoyed now. Ishara would know that her daughter could not be trusted, and if Elaine were not physically incarcerated, it would be the same as if she were.

Her only choice, if she went through with this, would be to remain away from her beautiful, beloved home until such a time as the present Queen Mother was gone. Either expired of natural causes, or assassinated by one who thought her rule too harsh. The later seemed more likely..

Awareness prickled at the tender skin along her nape. She had been observed long enough to know when she was being watched. Her time alone, to try and convince Aaron that she needed his help was over. She had failed.

Lifting her head proudly, she stepped back away from him, clearing her emotionally choked throat. She inclined her head slightly in farewell, wishing things had been different.

"Thank you for your time and counsel, Commodore.", her use of the title that had been stripped from him was not used as any disrespect or mockery. That was simply who he would always be, to her.

"I wish you only the best, in whatever you choose to do.." Again she stepped away putting more distance between them. Her eyes locked on some distant point, bravely, as she began to walk away.

[Aaron Belargic]

He watched in silence as she walked away. His limbs felt too stiff and heavy to salute. More than that, he had no enthusiasm for it. He loved the Consortium – a man would have to, to remain in a place where he was considered a disgraceful – but... but what? Nothing had changed. His dedication was strong as ever; that much was clear from his willingness to obey Ishara's command.

“Wait!” Elaine froze and Aaron took a step towards her, wondering just what he thought he was doing. “Princess, I...” he sighed. “If it is within my power to help you, I will.”

[Elaine Alastor]

She froze at the sound of his voice, but hers was not the only attention it had claimed. Her eyes drifted toward her mother's guard, not so very far away from them. Out of hearing if they spoke quietly, but her mother was sure to know of this meeting in detail within moments.

Turning her head slightly, but keeping her eyes on the guard, Elaine's lips twitched in an amused manner. "Truly, Commodore.. I am relived to hear so, however now we will have to add the matter of timing to our growing list of factors to be considered."

She did not know this area of the city well at all. If they were going to make any heroic escapes, she hoped that he did..

[Aaron Belargic]

The Queen Mother's Guard... Aaron felt his veins flooding with ice at the sight of them. Ishara kept only the most beautiful women as her personal bodyguard, yet their flawless appearance only made them all the more intimidating, each scar-free face a reminder of how efficient they were in doing their duty without receiving so much as a scratch in return.

On impulse, Aaron took Elaine's hand and began to walk in the opposite direction of the guardswomen. “I came to Star Home aboard a shuttle.. it's possible that it's still docked here. We can use it to leave, to get you to safety.”

If not, Aaron thought... if not, he would have to hope that the dock-workers had not yet heard of his demotion. The rank of Commodore gave him superiority over them and the ability to make temporary use of whichever ships were currently moored – but without it he wasn't entitled to so much as a swoop-bike. Perhaps the very appearance of the Princess would stun them into compliance, if they were lucky.

[Elaine Alastor]

Never in all her life had a man dared to take her by the hand and walk off with her. Elaine was a trifle shocked that it was happening now, even if she had instigated the whole thing. The unfamiliar, but not unwanted, act left her suddenly speechless, following him along without complaint, her eyes slightly wide with excitement.

There was a first time for everything!

Only moments ago she had tried to purvey her sense of urgency to Aaron by touch. Her own impeccably soft hands, that had never lifted a finger to work in her life, clinging to his, hands that she knew to be capable of action and aggression when the situation called for it - and he had let her go. Now, however, it seemed that they would have their chance at freedom!

"To get us to safety..", she corrected. "Let us hope Fate smiles on us today. Lead on, Commodore."

[Aaron Belargic]

The 'city' was large, but it was not difficult to navigate. It had been built with to maximize aesthetic appeal, one feature of which was a graceful simplicity of design. There were no winding streets, no shady back alleys. From the perspective of maintaining the peace, it was ideal, though it made any crafty escapes – the kind which Aaron thought might be necessary – rather difficult.

Fortunately, they were not far from the main docking compound. The guards followed at a slow yet still predatory pace as they moved towards their destination. They were, Aaron imagined, waiting for the moment when Belargic did something overtly incriminating before they sprung into action. It could only be so long before a condemned man with a pistol at his hip and the Princess in his grasp did something stupid and whilst they were not in the habit of putting Elaine's life on the line, their confidence was so supreme that they were certain of their ability to intervene before any harm befell the Princess.

“Will you tell me why you're doing this, once we're free of Star Home?”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine was entirely too afraid of what she would see if she turned to look back. Moving forward and seeing it through now seemed like the only option. Sticking close to Aaron's side, she nodded in agreement.

"If that would please you, yes. I'll explain it all to you in vivid detail." Just get me out of here.., she thought.

She couldn't help but note the similarities in their present plans to flee Hapes, to her old day dreams of another man coming to spirit her away to freedom and promise. Aaron's brother. A scandalous pirate, or a condemned naval officer? Did it really matter to her that she had been compelled to go and petition him for her own abduction?

Slanting her aqua gaze upon the man at her side, her lips pressed into a hard line, to keep from smiling. She was actually enjoying herself! When was the last time that had happened?

[Aaron Belargic]

Belargic, contrarily, wasn't smiling. His mind was two steps ahead of where they were and had already reached a conclusion that it wasn't in the least bit comfortable with.

They took the quickest route to the docks that Aaron could think of, but it seemed that even this wasn't enough. Once or twice he had glanced behind, to see if the Royal Guard had been following, and after a time they had vanished – but now it was clear why. They had managed to get ahead, to place themselves in the path that lead to the elevator platform connected to the docks. There were others like it, at other points in the city, but a grim hopelessness told Aaron that they too would be guarded soon, if they were not already.

The guardswomen did not speak, but words were hardly necessary. They carried pistols and pikes, the later of which they held with bases to the ground and points extending at least a foot above their head. One of those lances could have skewered him like a Sullustan shishkabob.

“Stand aside,” he called out, his voice surprisingly strong.

[Elaine Alastor]

It probably would have been better if beforehand she had known what his intentions for this very confrontation would be. The Royal Guards only objective would be to expedite his sentencing, and return her to her mother's side. Unharmed would be preferred, but if she opposed them, she harbored no illusions, she would share his fate. The ill tidings would be delivered to Ishara that her daughter was a traitor and even if they managed to escape, she too would become banished, hunted even..

With the weight of that knowledge upon her slender shoulders, Elaine considered if it would be wisdom to simply turn herself in. Aaron may still have a fighting chance to get past them on his own, but with the burden of trying to keep her safe, as she knew with a certainty that he would, his chances became somewhat slimmer.

No emotion at all registered on her noble features. It would be impossible for any of them to discern her thoughts as she brooded over the matter. She looked neither eager to flee, nor concerned for her own safety. Years of masking her own mind rushing to her, as she waited to see how it would play out.

When Aaron ordered them to stand aside, she even managed to keep the shock of such a command from her face. What card did he think he had to play, to get them to heed him now?

[Aaron Belargic]

They didn't move, of course. He had hoped they would - but they took orders from the Queen and the Queen alone. As the runaway pair edged forwards, the guardswomen lowered the tips of their pikes and met Aaron's eyes with steely gazes. He felt his heart flutter and shudder.

“Stand aside,” he called, this time more firmly – and in the same instant his pistol, the tool of his own punishment, was drawn and pressed to the back of the Hapan Princess's head.

[Elaine Alastor]

Now that she had not counted on.

Unable to disguise her feelings on that point, Elaine's aqua eyes widened in genuine shock at the unfamiliar feel of a pistol pressed to her skull. Her fingers twitched as if she were fighting the urge to react in some way, but dared not.

She had always been pampered, sheltered and cared for. No one in their right mind would have dared even speak threateningly to her, let alone accost her with a weapon!

Her heartbeat increased slightly, her gaze locking onto one of the guards in front of them in a pleading manner. "Please?! Do as he says...", the tremor in her voice was all too real.

[Aaron Belargic]

One of the guards began to reach, surreptitiously, for her gun. Aware of this, Belargic – against all sense – made a show of pushing the gun harder against Elaine's head, and was rewarded with a gasp of breath from Elaine. “I said stand aside! Do it, or I'll blow her brains out!”

Was that him speaking? Had those words passed his lips? Aaron knew he had to focus, to maintain the air that he would do what was necessary – but inside he was a quivering mess, disgusted at himself for putting the Princess's life in danger. “Move!” he barked, and so they did, stepping aside to form a narrow pathway.

The elevator would take them down to the docks, but Aaron had to keep the hostage charade up until they were long out of sight of the guards. As they stepped onto the platform, he held Elaine in front of him and moved with edging steps, fully aware that just one inch of exposed flesh would prevent a target by which they could disable him.

“Activate the control panel,” he said quietly, once they were stood in front of the elevators command console.

[Elaine Alastor]

It took a preciously long moment before Elaine realized he was now speaking to her. She had been stunned silent by the sudden showing of command and potential violence. The softer pitch of his voice clued her in, but time was of the essence and they could not afford to waste even a second. With her back against him, her hand slowly raised to do as she was told. Her fingers running across the control panel.

Even with her life at stake, was this possible? She had seen the look in the eyes of her mother's guards. They meant to kill him at any cost. A tremor ran through her, which surely he felt, pulled against his body as she was. She was beginning to be a little afraid, for both of them.

Freedom was not going to be so easy after all..

[Aaron Belargic]

There was a soft hiss and slowly the platform began to move downwards. As it sank, the Queen Mother's guards prowled forward and ringed the space yawning open beneath them. Aware of the vantage their position gave, Belargic kept his back as close to the wall as possible and held Elaine close.

“I'm so sorry, ereneda,” he said in a quick whisper. As much as it filled him with dread and unease to continue holding the gun to her head, he knew that within moments of taking it away the guardswomen would pounce into action. The lower the elevator went, the more like formless shadows they became, looming above, blotting out the sky.

Eventually, the platforms path shifted from vertical to horizontal and Aaron's hold on Elaine was gone entirely. An irrational part of him wanted to hurl the gun into the sleek, chrome darkness of the sub-city hangar – but an air of normality was needed now.

When the elevator came to a hissing halt, the space that lay before them was full of dimly lit shapes. There were shuttles and ships of many kinds. Ideally, they needed something that could travel at faster than light capacity, but if such a ship wasn't available they'd simply have to make do. Now wasn't the time to get picky, after all.

“Do you have any private shuttles here, Chume Ta?” Belargic asked, his movements somewhat stiff as he surveyed what was on offer. His gun arm was straight down at his side, close to his body, ready to snap to action if needed.

[Elaine Alastor]

His whisper at the back of her cast a spell of enchantment over Elaine for exactly three seconds. The first two seconds she found the whole situation terribly, tragically, perfect. Then suddenly, it occurred to her that Aaron wasn't even speaking to her. He was just vocalizing his distress over betraying her mother, even after all she had put him through. It was irritating, but not unexpected.

Still, it managed to deflate her mood a little and return a sense of decorum to the situation. As she was moved away from his hold, she pondered; How did one properly flee their home as a traitor?

While keeping close to his side, she quietly answered his question. "I arrived on board an Express shuttle. I am not sure which one, but it was not mine. It should still be here."

[Aaron Belargic]

The hangar was quiet, but that was not unexpected. There was a silent efficiency to so much of the Consortium, and even places such as this conformed to it. In the dim light, Aaron saw figures moving amongst the ships – engineers perhaps, or passengers boarding and disembarking. No one moved with any sense of urgency, nor did they move towards the Princess and her captor.

As he scanned the area, trying to take stock of potential dangers, Belargic wondered how best to proceed. Even if there were no royal shuttles currently at anchor, all shuttles were property of the monarchy by default. Elaine could demand use of whichever she saw fit and the crewmen would be only too happy to oblige. The other option was to sneak on board a ship and hope that it left Star Home before anyone noticed them -

How had it come to this? Every few minutes his conscience would intervene with a cry of staggering confusion. If there were any answers to that question, they would have to come later.

“There.”

With a nod, Belargic singled out a chrome winged vessel, a diplomatic barge (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/J-type_diplomatic_barge) by the looks of it. It looked suitably designed to carry nobility, but not so glamorous that the passengers could be anyone of vast importance. Aaron knew the design of the vessel and, barring any unlikely post-purchase modifications, the barge would contain a number of spacious cabins and chambers, all of which had been tailored to provide places of refuge for ambassadors and their delicate sensibilities.

That was it. The plan was finalized in his mind. Turning to Elaine, he held up a hand -

“Wait here a moment, please.”

- and then moved quickly across the hangar deck. There was a mechanic idling around the port-side of the barge, buffing its already mirror-shined hull. He gave the metal one last swipe with a cloth and then, satisfied, began to pace away to his next assignment. Quiet steps brought Belargic beneath the barge, where the boarding ramp lay open. A whiff of something sterile touched Aaron's senses and as he took two cautious steps up the ramp, he realized that the ships owners must have requested the barge be cleaned inside as well as out.

For a long moment he lingered there, listening for the sound of anyone within. All the while, the pistol was clenched tightly in his grasp. A minute passed and no sign of life could be seen or heard. Accepting that he could waste no more time, Aaron glanced back to the pool of shadow where Elaine was waiting and waved.

They had their way out.

[Elaine Alastor]

Before darting out of her hiding place, her fingers brushed aside her flowing white veil, to peek in both directions making sure she did not see anyone before letting the material fall once more.

Elaine made her way hurriedly toward Aaron, hoping their luck continued to hold, but fearing they were not through the worst of it yet. Feeling it was only a matter of time before they were pursued. As she got closer to the ramp, her hand lifted from her side reaching out to him.

[Aaron Belargic]

Without a thought, he caught her hand and the pair disappeared into the uncertain safety of the ship.

Like its exterior, the interior was all polished chromes whose flawlessly smooth surfaces caused a brief spike of alarm for Belargic as he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the corner of one eye and feared their cover had been blown.

The taste of disinfectant was overpowering and Aaron wondered for an instant what had transpired to warrant such a thorough scouring of the ships interior. The consideration brought to mind grim ideas, which didn't bare considering. Instead, it was time to find a hiding place.

Ordinarily Elaine would have been afforded the most luxurious suite on board, but circumstances being what they were, Aaron elected to lead the Princess to a room just a little less regal. Quickly, he took account of his surroundings. The room had all the necessary furnishings to keep two passengers comfortable and entertained during a long journey through hyperspace.

“I'm going to check the ships logs, to see if I can gather any information about where we're headed and who with. Will you be alright, waiting here?”

[Elaine Alastor]

Wiping at her eyes which were watering, not with tears of regret or of fear, but rather from the pungent scent in the air, Elaine nodded. "I'll be fine."

She moved to the cabin's small table, which was hugged by a padded bench and slid into the seat, prepared to wait. In all honesty they probably both needed a few minutes to ponder the choice they had just made.

Before he could slip out of the room Elaine, was struck with a little panicked question. "Would it be best if I.. I mean, should I hide?", she asked with a bit of a blush.

"What if it's not you who comes back?"

[Aaron Belargic]

Aaron's eyes cast about the room for another frantic moment, as if the solution to the present dilemma might be hiding somewhere within. “Claim innocence. Say I kidnapped you,” he replied quickly, and then was taken with another idea that seemed quite genius for a moment at least, “Faint, if you can. Just.. make sure they don't leave.”

About to leave, he paused for a moment and then set his blaster pistol down on the table in front of Elaine. With a nod as if to say 'that will do', Aaron turned and hurried out into the ships corridors. As he moved, he uttered silent apologies to the Chume Ta and to her family, firstly for what he was doing and secondly for how casual his tone had become with the Princess. The excitement of the moment had thrown his training into forward gear, so that his thoughts were no longer those of Aaron Belargic the dead-man-walking but of Commodore Belargic, a man accustomed to snapping out orders to subordinates and grabbing any problem by the balls.

When he found the cockpit, it was empty and the control panels were just as he recalled them. Not taking the luxury of sitting down, his fingertips moved deftly across keys, summoning the barge's flight path and personnel roster.

“Rouslyn Irimore,” he mouthed, trying to recall where he knew the name from. She was a noblewoman of some kind, that much was obvious from the size of her retinue. The barge wasn't set to leave the Cluster, but it was traveling away from Star Home and perhaps with a little encouragement could be persuaded to travel further besides.

Their approach unnoticed by Belargic, as he sifted through what information the ships computer had to offer, Irimore's party began their ascent of the boarding ramp...

[Elaine Alastor]

To Elaine, it felt as though Aaron had been gone for hours, though surely it had not been more than a few minutes. The span of time seemed somehow lengthened by her growing sense of unease. A dozen unpleasant scenarios barraged her thoughts.

Her mother's guards could not be that far behind. They were never going to let them get away this easily. They would find them. They would kill Aaron and it would be her fault for being foolish enough to seek his help in leaving. They would drag her back to her mother and Ishara would know her daughter was a traitor. Her life after that would be... most unpleasant.

Someone was going to find her here and raise an alarm. The whole of the Royal guard would descend upon them, and they would be trapped. If she pleaded for Aaron's life it would be far more damning than her thwarted escape effort had been alone.

She could leave now, turn herself in and say that he had escaped on board another ship. Throw them off his trail and maybe he could get away on his own? Would he even go? Or would he just give into the despair that she had seen in his eyes when she had first approached him at canal bridge? Would his life still mean nothing to him?

Feeling a little depressed at her own folly in probably making things much worse for the poor Commodore, when all she'd wanted to do was get them both out, Elaine sighed deeply. It seemed the weight of her entire caged life, coupled with the additional burden of the responsibility of a life she had involved in her own selfish scheme, was too much for her. Her shoulders slumped forward slightly as she continued to wait.

And then...

She heard someone coming, and rose from the seat quickly..

[Aaron Belargic]

“Intolerable, really.”

Rouslyn Irimore's shrill voice filled the corridors of the barge, and sent a jolt of panic up Belargic's spine. He flinched away from the ships controls and dropped into a crouch in front of the pilot's chair. It occurred to him within seconds that this was perhaps the worst hiding place he could have chosen, but the sound of Irimore's voice drew nearer, pinning him in place.

“Why is it always me who's expected to do this sort of thing? I can't think of anything more abhorrent than having to spend a day in discussion with those.. slimy Mairan's, let alone a whole week. What concern is it of mine if they have their grimy tentacles curled around Vergillian property?”

The tirade went on, but mercifully the sound of her voice grew more distant. Footsteps clanging against grating retreated away into other parts of the ship – Belargic imagined the woman's entire entourage crowded at her heels, waiting for the appropriate pause in which they could verify just what an injustice it was for Irimore to be dispatched to Maires on royal business.

When it seemed certain that no one was about to enter the cockpit, Belargic straightened and crept towards the door – only to hear the sound of soft-soled boots approaching. Someone stepped into the doorway and there was a split-second in which he, presumably the pilot, was aware that he was not alone, but his reflexes were not sharp enough.

One well-placed blow to the pressure point on the back of his head was enough to crumple the pilot into a heap. Aaron, sucking breath between his teeth, caught the body as it folded forwards like a pile of starched laundry. Five minutes later, that heap was lying at the feet of the Hapan Princess.

“This is folly,” Belargic muttered, possibly talking to himself, as he stripped the pilot of his cap and jacket. “What was I thinking? I don't even know if these will fit,” he added, eying the uniform with a dejected frown. As he had suspected, the jacket was at least two sizes to small, the cuffs riding high on Aaron's arms and the collar almost tight enough to choke. The pilot had been a young recruit, scarcely into manhood, with a slender, feminine frame...

Slowly, Aaron's eyes lifted from the uniform in his arms to the Princess.

[Elaine Alastor]

There had been a moment of panic before he had come in where Elaine had almost grabbed a nearby vase from a table to clock who ever came through the door over the head with. It had been a close thing really. Setting the makeshift, though elegant weapon aside for the time, she had scrambled out of the way as he had dragged the unconscious pilot into the room. In truth, she was a little horrified that someone had gotten hurt because of her, but he would likely recover and their lives were at stake now. A bump on the head was hardly concerning.. Wasn't that right?

Elaine had really tried to keep her eyes averted while Aaron had divested himself of his own jacket in favor of the felled pilot's. It was a little funny, with the shortened sleeves, he looked sort of like an over grown little boy playing dress-up who had grown too big for his costume. She was a little charmed at the image and smiled, even though she wasn't really laughing at him, so much as she was just letting her mind take a small reprieve from the direness of their situation.

She looked to his eyes, even as he was scanning over her body in what from anyone else she would have perceived as a completely improper manner. When he met her gaze, his expression was intent, like he had reached some decision he found to be problematic. Suddenly, recognition lit her eyes as she understood what he intended.

"Oh, you don't really think... I mean, I couldn't?" The eloquent Princess was devoid of any appropriate words.

[Aaron Belargic]

Obviously, she couldn't. Asking the Hapan Princess to masquerade as the pilot aboard the barge of a minor diplomat, in an attempt to smuggle herself and an exiled Commodore out of Star Home, was beyond scandalous. Fortunately, that was exactly the position they were now occupying in life and the galaxy - a position beyond scandal, where rational thought was set aside in favour of survival.

“The ship is already programmed with a flight pattern. All you have to do is initiate the take-off. I doubt Irimore has spared the lad more than a glance in his time,” he added, a little pity in his eyes as he looked over the unconscious form slumped at their feet. “If I know anything of this ilk, they won't venture anywhere the cockpit for fear of dirtying their petticoats, but even they would know something was amiss if they saw the pilots chair was empty.”

The words suddenly caught in Aaron's mouth, as he remembered who he was speaking to. His eyes dipped guiltily away from the sight of Elaine, dressed in what was probably the finest clothing the Consortium had to offer.

“I'd rather this than risk violence and rousing an alarm by attempting to commandeer the barge by force,” he added, quietly.

[Elaine Alastor]

She could see that he regretted his choice of words in his explanations. She probably seemed a very spoiled, selfish, rich girl to him, and maybe she was, but she was no idiot. Despite whatever he might think of her noble ilk.

Elaine glanced down at the floor, erasing any sign of hurt from her face. "I understand, Commodore. I did not mean that I am refusing do anything that must be done.", her gaze slid up again, maybe a trace of blue fire glittered there, where before they had been serene aqua. "Only that I can not, not without help."

Turning, Elaine bared the back of her exquisitely beaded, and bejeweled Hapan court dress. "This gown has two-hundred and thirty pearl buttons, most of which I cannot even reach.", she explained.

"So unless you've some skill as a ladies maid..?", She doubted it. Though, she also doubted that he was going to let that deter him from his course.

[Aaron Belargic]

Two-hundred and thirty?! Unable to even begin imagining why that many buttons were needed, let alone where they were concealed, Aaron turned away in irritation and dejection. At every step, there was some new hurdle to face – but of course, it couldn't be any other way. Why should it be simple? What he was doing - what they were doing was tantamount to treason; it had to be difficult. Warring with, on one hand, his desire to give up and, on the other, the fact that this was a trivial problem at best, Aaron swung his attention back to the Princess.

“My deepest apologies, Princess, but I fear there isn't time to afford your apparel the... care and attention its fine craftsmanship demands...” Taking a step forward, he inhaled deeply and tried to make peace with the idea that he was shamed enough already, that one more offense would not blacken his soul. Eyes purposefully averted and closed, Aaron gave the fastening at the dress's upper-back a sudden pull and with a rrrrrrip sent a handful of pearls springing into the air, tearing the priceless gown down to the waist.

[Elaine Alastor]

The minute the cool air of the cabin touched her bare back, Elaine felt goosebumps spread like wildfire across her skin. The ruined material of her costly gown was hanging like a surrendering flag, over her shoulders. She was as good as naked, in the presence of a man. Her mother would die on the spot of apoplexy and they would be saved!

There was no time to consider that plan.

Elaine moved, pulling her arms from the sleeves and stepping out of the bell of the skirts, she kicked the thing aside. Blushing profusely, she yanked the coat out of Aaron's waiting hands. He had gone utterly, disturbingly silent. She pulled the jacket on over her chemise, and did up the buttons in what she sincerely hoped was a quick and efficient manner. Then, reaching for the trousers she pulled them on and announced herself decent.

Save for a few details, she was. The uniform fit, perhaps a little snugly across her chest. Also, The pink frill of her chemise was poking out the back. The toes of her sparkling heeled shoes were visible, and then there was her hair. Her golden tresses, cascaded over her shoulders to her waist, stripped of the veil.

"Will I do?", she asked, chewing on her lip in concern. She'd never posed as a captain before..

[Aaron Belargic]

It was surprising how... convincing she looked. The fact that even members of the Royal Navy wore uniforms with a sense of flair to them worked in their favor. There wasn't much hope of hiding her hair under the pilot's small cap, but... it would have to do. Aaron gave a retiring nod.

“We've been fortunate so far. Let's hope our luck carries.”

Gathering the lifeless pilots body under the arms, Aaron dragged the boy to one corner of the room. His eyes cast about for a moment, searching for something he might bind the lad's wrists with, but in the end he had to settle for tearing his own naval jacket to form some makeshift bindings. He had expected to feel remorse as he tore the sleeves, the fabric fraying unevenly, but there was nothing but a hollowness in his stomach.

“The cockpit is just down the hall from here. You follow the path to the left, you won't miss it,” he began, as he secured the knot that would keep the former pilots hands in place. “Once you're in there, take the command chair. Now, on your right you should see a view-screen...”

And so it went, as Aaron explained as plainly as possible how to begin the ship's auto-pilot. All that was needed was the order from Irimore's people, and then Star Home's docking facilities would guide the barge out of its moorings and send them on their way to Maires. Pushing his pistol back into his belt, Belargic stood and let his hands rest on his hips. His eyes met Elaine's and he smiled, albeit grimly.

“We'll get through this. I promise.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Feeling slightly nauseous from her growing apprehension, Elaine could only manage a little nod. "Right..", she said.

Slipping out of the cabin, she took the path to the left, just as Aaron had instructed her to do. The cockpit did not take her long to locate, and she found everything exactly as the Commodore had said. Slipping into the pilot's seat, Elaine looked but did not touch the controls on the view-screen. From deep within the ship, she could hear the sounds of the other passengers as they boarded, and began to settle in for their flight, as she herself had done on many occasions.

Getting nervous that someone was going to come along and discover their deception, she tried to think on how best to distract herself. To keep from fidgeting needlessly, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and began twisting it into a long efficient braid. Once that was done, she stuffed the length of it down into the back of the borrowed jacket. She pulled the cap down lower over her eyes, all the while her thoughts were scattered.

She hoped no one was assigned to the cabin where Aaron was hiding out. If they entered and discovered not only the lately disgraced Commodore, but also the body of the unconscious and bound pilot, it would complicate things greatly. She did not want anymore people hurt as a result of her decision to up and leave.

"You there!", an arrogant male voice intoned from several feet away.

Elaine, startled from her thoughts, hopped up from the seat with a brisk, soldierly salute. She hoped that it was the expected reaction. Apparently, these people were not overly concerned with the given names of their staff.

"Make ready to depart at once..", she was ordered.

Nodding, she returned to the seat as the fellow left her alone once more.

"Here we go.." she whispered, swallowing back a gulp. Wiggling her fingers, she began the sequence that would put the ship into auto-pilot mode. When the engines actually started with a quiet rumbling, Elaine grew even more nervous. She was not qualified to fly a ship!

Sitting back quickly, she locked herself into the seat restraints..

[Aaron Belargic]

Aaron felt the purr of the ships engines and began to count off, silently, the time it would take them to be free of Star Home. In his minds eye, he could see the docking tunnels, the exterior tractor beams and beyond their reach the dazzling expanse of the Cluster, where he and the Princess Elaine would find their freedom. Seconds ticked by into minutes, and still no alarm had been sounded. Had his plan worked?

In such moments, the terrifying of thought of what he would do with that freedom pounced on Belargic, reminding him that fate rarely had any noble designs in store for those who deserted the Hapan Royal Navy. The former Commodore's eyes strayed down to the bound, unconscious form of the ships true pilot. Well, he thought grimly, My list of crimes continues to grow. First treason and conspiracy, now assault and identity theft.

It would be some time before they reached Maires and until there was nothing he could do... but wait. Wait and pace the confines of the suite he had locked himself in, his eyes darting guiltily between the door and the pilot for any signs that the young man was about to wake up.

Everything rested on the Princess's shoulders, now.

[Elaine Alastor]

Leaving Star Home behind relieved some of the suffocating feeling of doom from Elaine, but only some. It had surprised her, the ease with which they had escaped. Surely her mother's guards could have swarmed the docks, canceled all departures and had them within moments?

As the ship gained distance between Star Home and grew ever closer to Maires, the princess tried to think like her mother. Why had it been so easy? The answer was surprisingly simple, after some thought. It was very likely that the Queen Mother knew exactly where they were now, and exactly where they were headed. Rather than send her guards scurrying about the docks to apprehend them, a force many times their size would be waiting to greet the ship as it arrived at Maires. They would both be dragged off. Perhaps not Aaron.. He would likely be put to death instantly for his crimes.

For what she would have had him do for her..

Feeling sick with the knowledge of what was likely waiting for them, Elaine left the cockpit, pulling the little curtain that separated it from the hall closed. Perhaps no one would mind the ship flying itself for a few moments?

Returning back the way she had come, she burst into the cabin Aaron occupied and covered her face with her hands. "It's no good. They'll be waiting at Maires.. I don't know how, I just know it!"

[Aaron Belargic]

Though she didn't know it, Elaine had narrowly avoided a blow to the back of the head. Hearing footsteps approaching his hiding place, Aaron had been prepared to knock-out whoever should appear through the suite's doorway – but fortunately he had held back at the last moment.

“They?” His eyes searched her face for some explanation. She looked practically sick with fear. Whilst the Princess fretted, the former Commodore tried to filter out the panicked thoughts from his own mind, to remember if there were likely to be any royal guards or patrols near Maires. Most of his own work aboard the Arbitrator had been at the edges of Hapan space, so his knowledge was limited.

A muffled groan from behind him caused Belargic to twist suddenly, only to be confronted by the sight of two goggle-wide eyes glaring back towards him: the pilot had woken up. Though he was gagged, the barge was a quiet ship and its passengers quite obviously used to living in luxury; even a small disturbance was likely to irritate, and lead to some kind of investigation.

Without a further thought – only sparing an instant to utter a low apology to the Princess – Aaron strode forward and cracked the muzzle of his pistol across the pilot's temple. The boys eyes rolled, another groan rising in his throat. Quickly catching the pilot's chin between thumb and forefinger, Belargic forced the boys watery eyes to meet his own. “Silent. Still.”

Behind Aaron, the door to the suite slid open and a young woman in diplomatic robes appeared for an instant, her mouth a tiny o of surprise. Seconds later, she was gone, tripping over herself to find the rest of the ships passengers. “Help, help!!”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine had been in the process of trying to explain herself to Aaron when the pilot had chosen that moment to wake up. How she could have possibly explained the situation still escaped her. She wasn't gifted with visions or any such mystical ability, she was just the princess. Perhaps it was that she had so long been groomed to become the next Queen Mother, that she could anticipate Ishara's plans in this situation.? This vessel would have been the first and only to leave Star Home. When they were not found, it's destination would be reported to the Chume Ishara and she would either deploy a more speedy force to intercept them, or command a force from some other location to arrive before them, either way the end would be the same. They would be apprehended. She could see it in her mind as clearly as she saw Aaron knock the poor pilot across the head, and she could feel it in her very blood.

They must not reach Maires.

With a look of shock, Elaine sprinted to the door to try and catch the panicked woman, but it was too late. This was not good at all. "I'm so sorry, Commodore.", she said without looking back over her shoulder at Aaron. All her decisions seemed to lead from bad to worse, and she was dragging him down with her, step by step.

"What can we possibly do now?", she asked quietly as she turned around.

"Do you think it would help if I were to explain the situation?"

[Aaron Belargic]

The mark of a good tactician was not his ability to plan a flawless strategy of action, but rather how quickly he could abandon that strategy and formulate another. Adapt, evolve, and do it all under immediate pressure, with hundreds – perhaps thousands – of lives at stake. A Commodore of the Hapan Royal Navy was no stranger to such things; Aaron was no exception.

The alarm had been sounded. Somewhere in the barge, others were being alerted to the violence that had taken place on board. Fragments of description – a swarthy man in a tattered military uniform – were tumbling from trembling lips, and as it all came out before the baffled audience, that very same rogue, gun in hand, was approaching the passenger quarters where Rouslyn Irimore and her entourage teetered on the brink of panic.

The princess moved ahead of him, her disguise almost completely dispelled by the waves of golden hair spilling over her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, imploring, but Belargic was not a man to beg or bargain and old habits died hard. One arm suddenly locked around Elaine's upper-body, jarring her to a halt. The blaster pistol muzzle puzzled against her head, the metal mercifully cool against her temple. Into the stunned silence their arrival had birthed, he barked:

“Everybody on your knees!”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine could only stand still and close her eyes. Her heart trembled like a bird as she was once again in the familiar proximity of the Commodore's sidearm. The retinue of Rouslyn Irimore did as they were commanded, cowed into submission by the angry words from the armed officer. What could they do in their vulnerable situation.

"How dare you!" was all the Hapan aristocrat could get out, scolding and baleful as her own delicate features quaked, betraying her fear.

[Aaron Belargic]

“I am taking command of this ship!” Aaron announced, in a voice that brooked no arguments. As if to reinforce his point, he moved as if to press the blaster's muzzle harder against the Princess's head. The passengers of the barge winced as one, suddenly recognising Elaine Alastor's face from the great many portraits and sculptures of her that were scattered around Star Home.

“I want a full inventory, and all of your transmission logs...” Belargic's eyes darted frantically about, cataloguing each face kneeling before him. Only a handful of guards, with the bulk of the group made up by fawning servant boys. Rouslyn Irimore was the only one to meet his eyes with her own, with a glare that would melt a Hoth winter.

“And a new course plot. We're leaving the Cluster.”

[Elaine Alastor]

That comment elicited more gasps than even his brazen brandishing of a weapon against the Princess.

"Leaving the Cluster?!"

"Madness!"

"There's nothing but war and strife out there!"

Inwardly, Elaine felt terrified, but just as resolute as the Commodore in reaching the conclusion. It must be done. But where to? She, like most good-standing Hapans, cared as little for the greater Galaxy beyond as possible. Now faced with the certainty of venturing into the abyss, she clasped her hands together to keep her composure.

Only Lady Irimore spoke.

"You brigand, where will you go? Every bastion beyond our Consortium is a den of barbarity and darkness. You'll risk our deaths!"

[Aaron Belargic]

“What makes you think I care one jot whether you live or die?”

The blaster pistol was suddenly jerked towards Irimore. For a woman of some notable standing, it was unthinkable that a mere male should denounce her as such.

“Perhaps it is all war and strife, but it's either that or the Void for all of us.”

The blaster swung left, towards one of the Lady's servants.

“You have your orders! Go!”

With a shove that he hoped was gentle, Belargic sent Elaine staggering forward a few steps. In his mind, he begged forgiveness for his actions, pleading to whatever higher power was listening to pardon his less than delicate treatment of the Princes.

“You, with him. Make sure he doesn't do anything foolish.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine's eyes went wide, her own fear helping to make her bit of acting quite convincing.

She looked at the servant, who seemed to wither under her regal attention, and certainly didn't even think about doing anything foolish as Aaron had hinted.

He took to his seat, and the Princess took the opposite, her mind racing to where it was difficult to have the presence of thought to keep an eye on him.

"W-where are we going?"

The servant looked back, fearful, toward the Commodore, and thought to look to Elaine before realizing his error and shrunk back to stare bewildered at the flight controls.

"We're going to be killed by pirates, I just know it."

[Aaron Belargic]

Stood at the centre of attention within the room, Aaron felt an anxiety that he had never known whilst commanding the bridge of the Arbitrator. There, he had the loyalty and trust of everyone around him – but now, the people looking to him exuded nothing but fear. He wondered, his throat tightening, if even the Princess herself had begun to question whether she had been right to take flight with him. He didn't doubt that, with a covert and coded message, she could summon the fleet to her aid at a moments notice. If she betrayed him, betrayed them both... he couldn't even bring himself to think about the possibility of harming her. It was impossible.

“We don't have any c-cordinates beyond the Cluster,” the servant ventured after minutes of jabbing at the console in front of him, his hands shaking.

“Then plot us a course for the Transitory Mists. We'll head right through them and to whatever lies beyond.”

Though there was conviction in his voice, Aaron was not without fear. He had no real concept of what lay beyond the veil of the Mists. Many a time he had looked upon them from the deck of the Arbitrator, but their course had always skirted the edge of the Mists, or ventured only a little into the seemingly endless belt of cloud that encircled Hapan space.

As for the pirates... they had never worried him before, not with the fire-power of a Battle Dragon at his command, but based on the reports he was being reluctantly handed, the diplomat's barge was not sufficiently shielded to withstand an ambush, let alone return fire.

“We'll power down all systems to a minimum,” he said, thinking aloud. “Our energy trace should be minimal in a ship like this... enough that we can avoid detection.”

From the Royal Navy as much as any pirates, he added as a mental note to himself.

[Elaine Alastor]

The princess swallowed down her fear as she stared straight ahead. Directly ahead lay the Transitory Mists, beautiful yet obfuscating any notion of what lie beyond. They were nearly upon the threshold, but Elaine did not blink. As dangerous as their situation remained, her trust had been placed in Aaron's hands.

[Aaron Belargic]

With it's thrusters at minimum power, Lady Irimore's barge moved at a ponderously slow pace. Every passing second was laboured, though Aaron felt no relief in knowing that they were closer to the Transitory Mists. Inside the band of ionized space, it was likely that the ships sensors would become useless. It would be up to him to man the controls then, to see the vessel and its precious cargo through. The thought gave him purpose and in turn that purpose buoyed his resolve, reminding him that this was a journey he was not taking alone: the Princess herself wanted to know what more, besides the politic and peril of the Hapes Consortium, the Galaxy had to offer...

Perhaps, Aaron thought with a flicker of hope. Perhaps we might even find Prince Tristan.

[Elaine Alastor]

"The sensors...they're gone!"

The servant at the helm looked pleadingly to Elaine, who had little consolation for him. The mists were upon them, thick translucent clouds of pink and purple ionized gas, with tendrils of plasma snaking lazily through them.

"Keep a steady course."

She was surprised to hear the voice coming from her own lips, low as it was. Indeed, it was the loudest sound on the ship at the moment, as they all seemed to be transfixed upon this one perilous moment.

[Varon Farani]

When the Commodore had left him in command aboard the Arbitrator, Varon had never for a second entertained the notion that Belargic would not return. Such a notion was absurd: after all these years of service together, Varon felt he had the measure of the man, and knew Belargic was as loyal to the Consortium as Varon himself was to Belargic. And yet here he was, a Commodore for so short a time that he hadn't been able to update the decorations on his uniform, under orders to stop his trusted comrade from fleeing into exile with no other than the Princess Elaine as his hostage.

"You always did have a flair for the dramatic, old friend," Varon mused near-silent, eyes focused on the holovid display before him, showing the swirling maelstrom of the Transitory Mists. Few were brave enough to travel there: only the crews of Hapes' Navy were skilled enough to navigate them and stand a chance of returning alive. That fact alone gave credence to the suspicion that the ornate, mirrored and wingéd Nubian craft they pursued was the one aboard which Belargic had made his escape.

The visual disappeared, chewed apart by static as the Arbitrator drew closer to the mists as well. Soon sensors would fade, leaving them to rely on blind luck, and skill; more of the former than the latter, in truth. He had been told once that the manner in which they navigated the Mists was akin to the techniques of submariners of yore: reliant on charts and meticulous timing, to guide them when instruments failed. There were greater perils in the Mists than simply the loss of path however; Varon could only hope that Belargic's appropriated craft was made of stern enough stuff to survive intact.

"Our target has disappeared from sensors, Commodore."

Hearing himself addressed in such a way was disconcerting. Hearing that Belargic had passed beyond their sensor range already was more so. Varon had hoped that the straight line speed of the Arbitrator would have been enough to close the gap: to intercept Belargic before he strayed too close to the Mists to be lost from sight. He cursed himself mentally for his blunder. Still thinking like a pilot, Varon. You can't afford that anymore.

"What are your orders, sir?"

Doubt and indecision gripped him. He was a pilot. A fine pilot; one of the best in the entire Navy. Behind the controls of a Miy'til there were few in the Cluster more formidable. As the leader amongst the pilots of Belargic's authority, he had protected, defended, and served the Consortium with honour, distinction, and prowess. But even then he had been supported by guidance: and even then the decisions he had made affected only himself and a scant few others; seldom anything of such importance. The life of the Princess is at stake here! I can't afford to make mistakes.

"Contact Star Home," he instructed, with a waver of concern in his voice. "Inform them that the fugative has passed into the Mists, and request instructions."

[Ishara Alastor]

A matter of minutes had passed when suddenly the image of Queen Mother Ishara flickered to life aboard the command deck of the Arbitrator. She stood tall and proud, her dark eyes fixed with such intensity upon the holo-cam that filmed her that each of the crewmen on deck felt the need to look at least marginally away, their fists snapping against their hearts in salute.

“Commodore Farani.. report.”

[Aaron Belargic]

They were at the mercy of something perhaps even more powerful than the Queen Mother herself, now. Around him, the passengers of the diplomatic barge sat in various states of disarray: some shaking as they began to sob, one even on the verge of fainting. “Turn back! Turn back, I say! We'll never get out alive!” she shrieked – but even as a rumbling tremor moved through the ship, stellar winds buffeting its hull, Belargic signalled to the pilot to hold his course.

[Varon Farani]

Seeing the Queen Mother before him, even if it was in a ghostly, translucent shade of blue, was enough to stagger Varon's unsteady nerves into non-compliance. No matter how strongly he willed his voice to speak, his mouth merely hung open and soundless. He cursed inside his mind, willpower screaming like a caged Rancor, rattling against the bars in a desperate attempt to work free and command him into being more than a bumbling fool in the face of such authority.

Curse you, Varon, it whispered in his mind, taking on the harsh and scathing voice of his father. Your ancestors graced you with the requisite genetic blueprints; so for mercy's sake, grow a spine!

Whether the tensing of his muscles into a more ramrod stance was visible to outside observers, Varon couldn't be sure: but he felt taller, somehow; and tapping into an inner pool of confidence and calm, he unsheathed the sharpness of his wits, and responded to his Matriarch.

"Queen Mother," he acknowledged, with a curt nod of his head, all trace of the nervousness that had marred him gone. "We have pursued the fugitives to the edge of the Transitory Mists, but they have strayed deeper within them than our sensors are able to penetrate. We are poised to pursue, should you order us to do so, but I am concerned that - given how far in advance of us they are - they may clear the Mists before us, and will be able to escape into Hyperspace."

He hesitated, unsure whether it would be considered proper for someone of his station to suggest tactics to the Queen Mother. One could only hope that Ishara preferred to keep stripping officers of their rank and banishing them from the Consortium down to a once-per-day activity. "Should we pursue immediately, Highness, or would you rather have us await reinforcements, so that we might effect a better search and pursuit once we reach open space?"

[Ishara Alastor]

“Pursue them immeadiately.”

Ishara's voice was a hammer, shattering the tense silence aboard the Arbitrator's bridge.

“The very future of the Consortium rests in your hands, Commodore Farani. I am certain that I do not need to impress upon you the dire consequences you would face should you fail to retrieve the Princess Elaine from Belargic's grasp.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine remained at her seat, struggling to keep her appearance of calm in the face of the stellar winds of the mists. She saw the pilot struggle to keep his course, the shuddering in the ship evident in the control stick as he wrestled to keep the ship steady.

"How long to the other side?"

She asked aloud, not knowing whether the pilot, Aaron, or anyone would have any sense of an answer.

[Varon Farani]

Varon delivered a curt nod, followed immediately by a crisp salute. "As you command, Highness," he responsed, no hint of hesitation or doubt in his voice. His confidence in his own choices might have been shaky, but his compliance with orders was unwavering.

He waited for the communications channel to close before he let out the breath he'd been holding. "Future of the Consortium," he echoed, softly to himself. "Dire consequences." Another breath mutated into a sigh, and he shot a sidelong glance across the bridge to the First Lieutenant. "No pressure, then."

The poor Lieutenant clearly didn't have a clue how to respond to that, and for a moment Varon relished in the fact that he wasn't the only one without the faintest idea of what was transpiring. Swooping in and scooping up a damsel certainly sounded like the status quo for their heroic Commodore - well, former Commodore - but if Varon recalled the stereotype correctly, the damsel was usually in some sort of distress. Something about this entire affair seemed very off, and out of character.

Compliance is necessity. Comprehension is not.

The words of one of his early instructors at the military academy were summoned to the forefront of his mind, and they steeled his resolve. With controlled strides, he paced to the centre of the bridge, and orientated himself facing the viewport, hands clasped behind his back. "Take us through the Mists, Lieutenant. Best possible speed."