 
### Star Sailor

by: Chris Fox

#2

### Otto al-Kara of Rangpur

a story published by _Writers' Bloc_

<http://writers-bloc.tumblr.com/stories>

copyright: 2013

Smashwords Edition

This book is DRM free, because DRM is stupid, and I want you to read this story for free. It would be nice if you downloaded this legally. But you can totally share it with friends if you want to. Just don't charge people for it, and tell them to get the real thing at the official website, listed at the end of the book.

Now let's get on with the story...

In a Universe of infinite space, girl travels by raft amongst the stars.

#2 - Otto al-Kara of Rangpur

Najima gazed upon the quiet surface of an uncolonized moon. It was small and battered with craters, the soil a slight pinkish hue, and she thoughts of how beautiful it looked in its desolation before she bit the end of her ink pen as she turned her gaze to the distant sun. The bright blue kiln baked the entire solar system, making its nearest planets all but inhospitable lumps of crusted earth floating in the void.

Najima returned to her bound, paper journal, and resumed her writing.

I'm currently in orbit around Nanda IV. I'm over the pink moon. I like the colour. It looks like someone molded a giant ball out of pastel chalk. I remember visiting Nanda IV on holiday, long ago. We used to have family here, before the war days. Their land is probably still planetside. But they have no doubt moved to the inner regions of the Empire long ago.

I'm here on business this time. It's nice to feel productive. I haven't had a real job since the last entry, almost three weeks ago. I could do with some money. I took a job before I left Yala II after my last ordeal with those bandits that were harassing those farmers I met. The family was so happy, they insisted they find a reason to keep me traveling, and sent me toward their family here. They wanted to deliver some heirlooms, but they've never been allowed passage across the interstellar borders from the Vengali Commonwealth to Empire space. Helping them makes me feel useful.

Najima bit her pen, thinking of what to write next, before scribbling _I've been thinking_ on the page. Immediately and violently, she scratched the word out as soon as it was set to the page, and attempted writing again. _I felt_ was on the page before she sliced an ink-slash through the words. Staring at her scribble, she could still see the indention of the words in the page, and in a fit of anger, she threw her journal into the depths of space. She watched as it floated off beyond the field of oxygen that surrounded her small wooden raft, and off into the distance.

As it drifted on, Najima sighed and traced her leg with her finger, beginning at her knee until she snaked her finger through the anklet resting just above her foot, a shimmering bit of slim but unbreakable twine that glimmered multicolour like a rainbow. With half reluctance and another punctuated sigh, Najima rose, fixed the mast and sails of her raft, and sailed to the journal as it drifted aimlessly with inertia through the blackness.

After retrieving the journal, she tended to her raft once more, and guided herself to the other side of the moon, revealing its parent planet. Nanda IV was completely within view, a great marble of pale tan, with dots of green and small pools of water that were hardly excuses for oceans. The fast-spinning desert planet was carved by crags and mountains ranges so massive they were the most prominent objects visible from space, their deep browns contrasting the khaki earth.

Najima checked her bearings with her Multiscope, her telescopic gadget used for navigation. Adjusting her mast and sails, and adjusting the anti-grav engine in the center of her raft, she set a trajectory to enter the atmosphere. As the raft slowly drifted toward the planet, she floated her way through the zero-gravity of space back to her bedding. Curling herself up with her tattered thermal blankets, Najima returned to her journal.

I can't help but think. My thoughts consume me out here. It's the worst part of the traveling. I get distracted by a smell, a colour, or a memory, and I start thinking. And then I overthink, and then it's all over. My thoughts only go to one place. I can't help them, and they frustrate me. But that's the life of a girl like me, I guess.

You know all this already.

I need to occupy myself. Adventures.

Adventures, Najima. Get to them.

∞∞∞

Within the hour, Najima was descending into the atmosphere on the night-side of the planet. Since the planet had a fast rotation, with seven hour day-night cycles, the countryside below was illuminated by the dual moonlight of the full moons in the sky, the third moon on the daylight side of the planet. Following her Multiscope's directions, Najima traveled toward the planet's magnetic north, where the tool showed her destination, an otherwise unremarkable town known for its massive underground lake, which was the major export to the rest of the planet's dry countryside.

As she passed the scrubby, parched landscape beneath her, the sky lit up into a bright pink. Najima had reached the planet's morning side; the sky slowly darkened into an orange hue with musty turquoise at the highest point of the sky, while the rocky ground below whipped a mix of sand and dust in the morning winds that blew Najima's black hair off her shoulders.

The distant blue sun's UV rays were already beginning to take a toll on Najima, and she took off her messy, paint-splattered, black jacket, opting for some shorts and a white tank top, putting on her trusty combat boots last, and lacing them tight. As she drank from a water bottle, she shaded against the sun as she reached her destination.

The town was a mishmash of architecture. Twenty story skyscrapers with tinted glass lined the business district on one end, very en vogue Dravidian architecture; the other end made of industrial styled buildings, dotted by bulky, squat structures compacted together, with linear roads lining city blocks - popular architectural styles in Vengali cities.

The majority of the town was as Najima remembered: highly traditional buildings - most either four stories and slim, or constructed in a square with a central riad - a shared courtyard for the residents - all made of materials natural to the region, with alleys cutting through the tightly knit houses at mathematical angles while streets intersected at many traffic circles.

The pre-Imperial minarets, dating back to the Sixth Era - architecture completely disparate from the modern Seventh Era - towered above everything but the skyscrapers, at four corners of the town. These once secured the town in an oxygen rich environment during the early days of terraforming, many millennia ago, much like Najima's oxygen generator worked for her raft. They still stood as a mark of history and ingenuity, or at very least a petty tourist trap.

Even from Najima's height, floating over the streets, she could smell the town's rich scent. "Never changes," she hummed to herself, looking at the people milling about below. Lately Najima had been traveling back and forth along the invisible line that separated the Vengali Commonwealth and the Dravidian Empire. Her last adventure took her to the Commonwealth, but Najima had always called the Empire home.

She always took a liking to the energy of an Empire controlled planet, even a smaller, less populated planet like Nanda IV. No matter how small the town on the planet, stores there would always be filled with the freshest commodities, their bazaars rich with varieties of food from across the galaxy, their cafés roasting the freshest coffees and steeping the finest teas. Success through production, the pundits would say on the news channels that broadcasted on the Stream, calling the Empire a place of capitalist opulence. And it was hard to argue them.

Najima landed at the spaceport on the Imperial side of town, and brought her rickety raft next to a small freighter, although small was relative, as it reached almost ten stories in height, and the length of nearly 300 meters. The dock manager gave Najima an odd look, although it was difficult to tell whether it was a look of confusion or revulsion at Najima's comparatively pitiful wooden craft. Nevertheless, he had Najima pay her parking toll in Paisaz, before she wound her way down the stairs and through the halls of the spaceport to the streets.

The town was busy with morning activity, and Najima remembered this same street as a child, at the entrance to the same spaceport. When she was first here, she remembered crying as soon as she hopped onto the sandstone streets from the metal stairs. No sooner had she stepped onto the sidewalk was she trampled by a bulky man with a full beard. The man flummoxed over her, his boot kicking her in the chest, before he began cursing at her - an eight year old - for blocking HIS path as she ran and shoved her face into her mother's sari while her father yelled.

That was the nature of Nanda. Days were short here, so you didn't slow down. You fought and jostled your way through the daylight. So as Najima hopped off the metal stairs of the refurbished spaceport nine years older, she blended into pedestrian traffic without a second's hesitation, and walked with the floods of people toward the bazaar.

The market was boisterous with crowds bustling their way between stalls which sold all manner of local produce and wares. Doyels, a type automatically driven vehicle powered by the same anti-grav engines as Najima's raft - hummed a meter above the paved streets, in an effort to keep the skies clear of congested grids of floating traffic. They hummed down city blocks, and idled as pedestrians crossed streets, while these hat wearing citizens chattered gossip like crows through the bazaar, which sat like an island of commerce surrounded by a traffic circle.

"Busy, busy," Najima said to herself, taking a moment to gather her bearings. Using her Multiscope, she plotted a route through the town, and weaved through the bending streets toward her destination.

She came to a regal affair. The building was 4 stories tall, but much ritzier than its neighbours, directly on a major thoroughfare near the Civil Protection offices. With a covered courtyard for an entrance, guarded by a black gate that shimmered a beautiful hue of some type of deep-space metal, the building's main floor was the second floor, allowing the first to accommodate a large riad with lush grass and a tree. Najima felt slightly uncomfortable about entering without a sari, feeling underdressed, looking down at her brown legs which bared dark bruises. After double-checking the directions she had been given, she rang the comlink which sat patiently on the exterior wall, before speaking into the device.

"Saar Patil. My name is Najima Dezetoiles. I'm here with a delivery from Yala."

There was a long pause and no answer. Najima was prepared to call again when the gate unlocked and slid open by itself, and Najima entered, climbing the nearby staircase to a decorated door which slid aside for her. The entryway was decorated magnificently, with pristinely polished hardwood floors, a long hall ahead of her, and a sitting room to the right. The halls had glass floors, which looked straight down to the courtyard below. The sound of a twangy sitar and laughter filtered from somewhere deeper in the home.

She stood aimlessly, almost afraid to disturb the gentle mood of the entryway, before a woman rounded the corner. She was majestic, with impressively long hair that ran over her shoulder and past her chest, and was dressed in an elegant yet conservative sari trimmed with gold. "Hello, Matam."

"Hi. I'm Najima Dezetoiles. I was looking for Saar Patil?"

"Yes Matam Dezetoiles, you are in the right place. I am Saar Patil's stewardess." She curtsied. Najima was definitely underdressed, and awkwardly half-bowed, half-curtsied, pulling the ends of her shorts as if it were a dress.

"I have a package for him, from his family in the Yala system." The stewardess curtsied again, and asked Najima to follow her, as she led the way down the rich hallway lined with oil paintings and lush flowers on small tables. It reminded Najima of the houses she used to visit before she began sailing through space. .

"Who is that, dear?" called a woman's voice from further down the hall. The voice had a thick Imperial accent, all lofty tones, all the emphasis on the vowels.

"A package for your husband, Matam."

"Don't forget to offer them some mango lassi. We also have some pakoras."

The stewardess asked if Najima would like some of the offered food, and Najima agreed to both, hiding the fact that she hadn't eaten a decently flavoured meal in days. She was led to an ornate room that overlooked the tree in the garden below, windows on one wall, deep brown wood facing the hall, glass under foot. The stewardess excused herself before returning moments later with an orange drink and spicy fritters on a platter.

Najima did her best not to completely devour the food after the stewardess left to fetch Saar Patil. Fortunately, the biting spices in the pakoras kept her eating slow, although the whole glass of lassi was gone after only a moment, every ounce of mango goodness coating Najima's taste buds.

She had been so focused on food that it took her a moment to realize the sitar music had stopped, and was replaced by a bubbly jazz tune played from speakers. The clap of feet on stairs came as Najima looked to the door, where a man with an impressive mustache and wide smile entered. He wore a casual maroon-coloured suit with nice shoes. He was followed close behind by the stewardess, who idled in the doorway. "Hello!" he said with a jovial voice, hand in the pocket of his blazer, which further rounded his portly figure. "I am Mayor Patil."

"Hello, saar." Najima rose instantly, this time avoiding awkwardness with a brief bow at the waist. When she spoke now, she did so with a stronger lilt of an Imperial accent, something she normally tried to put away. "I'm sorry for my attire. I had no idea you were the mayor."

"Nonsense, it doesn't trouble me in the slightest," he said with that type of laugh that only the more rotund can pull off as gracefully as he did while the stewardess watched quietly from the hall. "And I hear you have something for me."

"Yes, from Yala, saar." Najima reached into the small satchel that fell along her hip; digging past her laser pistol and twin plasma daggers, she pulled out the small, ornate wooden box she had been given, and handed it to the man. After inputting a code, the man opened the small box and began examining the contents. He held the box low enough for Najima to steal a peek at various jewelry and sentimental belongings.

One item he brought out to look at the light, a beautiful blue stone-necklace that gleamed as it spun on its chain. "Very good. Thank you very much, my dear. My wife and I have not seen my sister-in-law and her family since long before the war. She will be so pleased when she sees this. Hopefully traveling over the border was not an inconvenience."

He put the necklace away before closing the box and peering at Najima, who quickly became self-conscious. It was the type of gaze which one gave when they were trying to see whether someone had food stuck in their teeth, and Najima thought he was looking at her clothes. She knew better to come into a house like this without being properly dressed, especially in front of an Imperial mayor. Imperial people of high class were always very focused on aesthetic presentation.

But instead, the man rubbed his mustache and said, "My stewardess mentioned, but I didn't catch it: what did you say your name was?"

"Najima Dezetoiles," she replied with a nod of the head and a smile.

"You wouldn't happen to be the same as the Dezetoiles from Sundarban, would you?"

Najima's eyebrows rose. He was right. Nobody had recognized her family name since she left home. "Yes saar, the same. You know my family?"

The mayor shook his head. "I do not know them personally. But one of your relatives used to own the entire south end of town. Donated the land to the military during the war to to support the Empire's fight against the Commonwealth. You saw those skyscrapers while entering the city? All built on your family's land. Even this very manor, all thanks to the Dezetoiles."

"How fascinating."

"Now if you'd excuse my rush, but I am entertaining guests at the moment. Busy hosting Nanda's new governor, and his family, We're planning a big parade for them, and I cannot keep them waiting. My stewardess will handle the remainder of our affairs. But I humbly thank you once again. Fair travels." The mayor left the room, leaving Najima alone with the stewardess.

The stewardess motioned Najima toward her, "I'll pay you for your troubles," she said, waving a Paycard that was no doubt linked to the mayor's account.

Najima produced her own from her bag. "He seems nice."

"Unfortunately, he has been quite nervous lately. Organizing the parade is only one concern of many" The two placed their Paycards together, whereupon the two small pieces of crystal clicked together. The sound of money passing from one account to another was punctuated by soft, swift bleeps from the cards, until the sound slowed, then stopped.

Najima disconnected her card from the stewardess's, and looked at the touch pad: 10,932₱. It wasn't much, but was more than she expected, and would be enough for new supplies for her next trip off-world. Najima thanked the stewardess. "What is the other problem??"

"Unfortunately, Matam Dezetoiles, we seem to have trouble with a terrorist."

"A what?" Najima asked, but the stewardess already provided by strolling to the coffee table where a tablet rested. She turned on the screen and made her way to a local news outlet on the Stream. The top story read: _Otto al-Kara Strikes Again_.

"The Stream has been saying he's an anti-Imperial," the stewardess explained. "He's been lurking between several towns in the region. Stealing things, interfering with government buildings, and causing a mess."

"CP can't handle them?" Najima asked. CP stood for Civil Protection, the police force of the Empire, characterized by their bulky, white uniforms and ominous masks that distorted their voice. Normally they were very vigilant themselves.

"al-Kara and his followers are quite well organized. They only seem to attack Civil Protection and Imperial Army compounds. But it has had Saar Patil tense for some time, especially with the governor in town.."

"Understandable," Najima sighed. "Thanks for your time." After a few more exchanged pleasantries, Najima was escorted out the front door and back to the streets beyond the black gate, which shut behind her.

∞∞∞

The market remained busy at midday, even as the sun scorched down on the planet. Everyone's shoulder-jabbing pace had dulled slightly in the heat, and everyone dripped of sweat. Najima sat, panting like a dog, under a desert tree that seemed to droop under the same heat. "This is just oppressive. I don't remember this heat from the last time I was here."

She brushed her black hair out of her face, wiping away the sweat with her dark arms, which would tan even darker by the end of the day. "I guess I should go find a shop that has some supplies then. Why can't we magically float around instead of walking?" Reluctantly, Najima rose and began the exhausting trek back toward the spaceport. Weaving through the sidewalk's pedestrian traffic, she took notice of all the people lining the road, as well as the skyline of tall buildings. She thoughts about how the skyline might have looked without those monoliths, like when she was a child. But she couldn't remember the image - lost to time.

The citizens of Nanda, however, seemed very much the same as she remembered. Border planet or not, these people were poor. Almost all of them were working class, even before the war, including those who zipped around in Doyels. Nanda was one of the few territories reclaimed by the Dravidian Empire after Commonwealth occupation, and only then after dozens of battles fought above the planet and on the surface of Nanda IV. The constant changing of hands between the Empire and Commonwealth left the people and their regional economy tattered.

When Najima first came here with her family, they traveled by Doyel through a poor district of the capital on Nanda. She could still remember all the people who crowded the vehicle, desperate for food, piasaz, or anything they could get. She had asked her father why the people couldn't drive in anti-grav cars like her family did, and her father didn't reply.

The beggars here could be found hunched in the shade of doorways, or haggling cheap goods from corners to passers-by who didn't care. This was the downside of the economic utopia the Stream always talked about: in the Empire, there were winners and losers.

One of these losers was a small girl: she had brown hair and olive skin, with a worrisomely thin body. She was busy stacking rocks in the shade of a building Najima was walking past. She looked thin and hungry, and couldn't have been older than Najima's little sister, Zu.

The girl beamed when she saw Najima, and waved her dusty hands before returning to her architectural marvel. Najima smiled and waved in return, and wondered what would have happened if her family had not been one of the winners. She wondered if Zu would smile like this girl as she starved on the side of the road. Then Najima thought about her anklet, which she could feel along the curve of her foot. She didn't want to think about her anklet.

KATHUNK!

The sound shook Najima from her thoughts. It came from an alleyway she had passed, followed by hushed voices and whispered yells. "We are trying to be quiet!" and "Way to go!"

Whoever was there, they were certainly not staying unheard. Najima walked into the shade of the alleys and approached what appeared to be three people trying to climb a wall to a high window above a door.

"Let me try!" said a young man, who darted straight to the wall. He scrambled his feet at the vertical building in an awkward jump, and rose nearly 2 meters before toppling backwards onto his rear. A slim, young girl about Najima's age and a second boy, who was a bit chubby, grumbled at their misfortune.

"What are you all doing?" Najima asked, which took all three by surprise. As soon as the young man, still on the ground, saw Najima he reached to a holster on his leg, which held a ballistic pistol, loaded with bullets. Najima saw his movement straight away, and before he could finish raising his weapon, she spun, and kicked the gun straight from his hand; by the end of her spin, she had already produced her own pistol, and aimed at his head.

"Now that wasn't very nice." Najima said, gun unmoving.

"Don't shoot us!" the chubby guy pleaded. The young man who was disarmed sneered in return, and the girl was shaking with fear. They seemed harmless, besides the angry one, and seeing no other weapons, Najima returned her pistol to its holster on her hip, making a quick motion to grab her daggers from her satchel and place them discreetly in her pocket, in case they were needed.

"Why are you jumping at a wall and pointing guns at people?" Najima asked.

"You pointed a gun at us!" yelled the angry one.

"You did first!"

"And I would've shot you right here too if you tried to stop us!"

"Brat, can we not do this! I thought you said be quiet," the chubby one begged, trying desperately to moderate Najima and the guy, apparently named Brat.

Najima wagged her finger at the angry Brat. "You're useless. You two," she said, turning her attention to the others, "What are you doing? What's this all about?"

"Priya, don't," the girl said.

"Do you have a better idea?" he replied, and she shrugged. "What's your name?"

"Najima Dezetoiles."

"Well, I'm Priya," he said, then pointing to the others. "That's Bratindra - we call him Brat - and this is Brishti, but she prefers Bri. We were trying to get into that window. This door doesn't have a keypad, so the only way in is up."

"What's inside?" Najima asked.

"Food," the girl said quickly, although a bit meekly. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and continued, "I mean, I'm sure you've seen the people here, walking around. It's rough to look at everyone sometimes."

"So do you three make a habit of stealing food from people for the poor?"

"Actually, in a way, yes..." Priya said, although he was again chastised by Brat, who rose to his feet and went to fetch his gun.

"Go ahead and tell the stranger everything about us," Brat hollered. "In two minutes we'll be in electromag cuffs."

"But look at her," Priya said with a point. "She doesn't seem like Civil Protection. And that kick! Maybe she could help us."

"He's got a point, dear," Bri chimed in.

Najima couldn't help but laugh while Brat grumpily returned to his efforts of trying to scale the wall, to no avail. "Why would I want to help out some thieves?"

"We don't want to just steal stuff. We are kind of, well, against the government..." Priya said, his voice turning into an odd mumble, as if he were telling a secret he wasn't entirely sure he should be telling.

Bri sighed again, searching for confidence. "What he means to say is: we work as a team against the Empire. We don't think the Empire treats their people with respect. So we do things to let them know people are frustrated with their treatment. I mean, whether you're Vengali or Dravidian, I'm sure you've had a bad experience with the Empire."

Najima's mind flashed to her anklet. She didn't want to think about that. "I guess I might have."

"And this isn't just any building," Priya said, pointing to the door. Najima hadn't noticed, but the door had an Imperial seal on it: the bright red, seven-pointed star bursting at the ends from a closed circle, with the bolded letters CP on either side. "It's Civil Protection's supply warehouse. A whole building filled with supplies, tools, extra uniforms, and most importantly, instant meals. Preserved curries, mac & cheese, fruit salads, heaps of naan. Even desserts!

"CP regulations say they have to have an overstock of food at all time in case of emergency, all while people who actually need a meal starve. Inside there is everything that could keep a family fed for days as long as they have a stove or microwave, or even a campfire."

"We're not just punks," Bri said defensively. "We chose this place. Doing this is a headache to the government, and if we can help people on the street not go hungry for a couple nights while annoying the Empire, it's worth it. At least to me, or... us. I mean, if you could do something to help make someone's life better, wouldn't you? Even if it was maybe a little fuzzy with the law?"

It was true, as Najima was not known for respecting every little law. But more importantly, Najima thought now of the girl she had seen only moments ago, building her rock-skyscraper. Her perfect smile that was just like Zu's. That little girl was starving, just like Najima's sister would starve.

"Yes, I would help."

"So... you want to help us?" Bri replied hopefully.

"I hate to break it to you," Brat grumbled as he slid off the wall from another failed scaling attempt, "but all this gossiping isn't getting us indoors. And if we loiter around this back door too long, someone's going to call CP."

"Well, what's the plan?" Najima asked.

Priya mumbled a reply, "Well, normally, I could just hack the keypad to the door, but..."

"But he can't," Brat griped, "because there is no sodding keypad. But if we can get up there, to that window, we can crawl down and unlock the door. I don't even bloody care anymore if you want to help or not. But if you do, stay out of the way and let me get up this freakin' wall." Brat growled and charged at the wall. This was his worst attempt yet, as his scaling completely failed, leading him face first into the wall. Bri couldn't help but giggle, which made Najima and Priya spout a laugh as well.

"Yeah, laugh it up, you three. I don't see you being useful _Najima Dezetoiles_. Any _bright ideas_ , eh?"

"Yeah, I've got one, tough guy. Bend over."

"Excuse me?" he muttered in disbelief. Najima merely repeated herself to the confused Brat before grabbing him by the neck and pushing him to the ground. She told him to stay hunched over as he obeyed while cursing at her. She took a slow blink, and a deep breath as she backed up to the parallel wall of the alley.

As she exhaled, Najima raced straight toward Brat. She jumped as gently as she could on Brat's back, and as he groaned with pain, launched herself upward at the wall using him as a springboard. She made it two meters higher than Brat's highest attempt, and with some desperate scraping of her tough boots against the wall, and scrambling with her hands, she landed her fingers just on the tip of the window ledge.

The group gasped as Najima straightened her grip and her support with her feet. "How the bleeding stars did you do that?!" Brat yelled.

"Effort," she wheezed. "Did gymnastics as a kid. Comes in handy sometimes." Najima wrangled her weaker, left hand to her back pocket, produced her plasma dagger. She then activated one blade, and seared the structure of the window until it popped out. The small, rectangle of plexiglass fell solid to the ground within, clattering loudly.

Najima tossed her knives into the room before weaseling her body through the small opening. Immediately below her in the room was a large shelf tightly packed plastic boxes. She fumbled on top of them, and tumbled off the shelf, crashing quite roughly into the another shelf opposite of her, but without falling to the ground.

Now with more control, she climbed the shelves downward like a ladder, before dropping safely to the floor. She retrieved her knives and reconnected them before tapping the unlock and open buttons on the door's interior keypad, which slid the entry open.

"That was amazing!" Priya yelled.

"Not gonna lie, almost thought I was going to fall," Najima replied, rubbing her arm where a new bruise would no doubt form. "What now?"

"Bratindra, I'll let you do the honours," Bri said.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he returned slyly, walking back toward the sidewalk before hollering at the top of his lungs. "Oi people, are ya hungry?! We've got free food! Otto al-Kara is giving fresh insta-meals courtesy of your local Civil Protection. You heard me right, get over here if you want it! Don't be shy!"

"Wait, who did he say?" Najima asked. But Priya and Bri rushed into the room, insisting there was no time. With Najima's help, they began opening boxes and removing packaged foods and tossing them unceremoniously into the alley. A crowd began to gather whooping and clapping as Brat continued to yell out invitations. Soon the crowd began to swell and clog the alley, and Bri, Najima, and Priya began to simply open containers before throwing them whole out the door while some began hurrying into the room to gather items for themselves.

Najima stood back and watched as the group moved like the team they said they were. Everyone laughed as they passed out food and tossed boxes, and Brat seemed to relish the chance to yell. Najima couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous of a robbery this was. She then saw that one of the few who entered the room was the little girl from the sidewalk, who's eyes grew large when she noticed Najima, a packaged cake already opened in one hand. She quivered, perhaps thinking she was in trouble, until Najima ruffled her hair and smiled, putting a couple boxes of food in her hands.

The crowd suddenly began to thin, and people outdoors began to scramble away from the buildings, dropping boxes of food everywhere. Sirens were wailing through the air. "We're not popular anymore!" yelled Brat. "Time to go!"

Priya and Bri guided those who had followed them inside to the exit, Najima trailing behind. She took the little girl by the face and kissed her forehead before telling her to run. As the quartet exchanged a quick glance, all four bolted down the alleyway.

The chaos behind them was immediate, as Civil Protection, in their white uniforms, rounded the corner and began yelling stop. After a moment, one pointed at Najima and her new friends, chattering into his com-device as Najima, Bri, Brat, and Priya rounded an intersecting alley, and sprinted to the sidewalks.

Brat was first into the street, practically rolling across the sandstone to dodge a Doyel which abruptly halted in place, its anti-grav engine malfunctioning, and sending it flumping to the ground with a loud metal clank. The others sprinted behind him, CPs rounding both corners at the ends of the streets, as well as behind them in the alley. Brat ran to the nearest apartment, where a confused bystander stood holding the door open.

"Thanks!" he yelled, forcing his way past the woman as Bri and Najima hurried inside, Priya trailing behind. They ran into the riad, with a lush green tree rising upward toward the middle of the interior balconies, where some tenants stared baffled at their presence. Priya had turned back to the door, quickly jamming the electronic lock.

Unfortunately, they were trapped. The rear door which led to the alley had a digital sign that blinked _OUT OF SERVICE_ in bright yellow letters. "What now?" Bri yelled as Brat cursed his bad luck.

Najima's eyes sped around the riad, until she saw a solution. "Second floor. These places have escape ladders. We take one down and keep running."

"Better than nothing," Brat huffed, looking back to the entrance, where CP officers were hurriedly hacking through the keypad of the locked entry. The four raced up the nearest staircase as the front door opened and CP began pouring through. At the top of the second story, Brat drew his gun on a bystander, who screamed and ran away from the open door to an apartment.

Najima was on Bri's heels when she heard a scraping sound, and found Priya fumbling on the ground. He wasn't cut out for this kind of sprinting, struggling to even stand. She grabbed him and lifted his heavy body back off the ground as CP quickly scaled the stairs hollering, "Halt!"

"Get in, lock the door, and get out," Najima said. Priya tried to ask about her, but not before she put her foot on his butt, and pushed him inside the room. Brat closed the door immediately after, leaving Najima alone with several CP officers on the interior balcony. As they raced toward her, Najima spun, climbed the railing, and dove with her hands splayed toward the tree in the riad. She grabbed a branch, which bounced long enough for her to get a firm hold, before it snapped, sending her to the ground.

She landed on her back in the rough grass, and coughed her way woozily back to her feet, where she met a CP, who struck her in the shoulder with a baton. She was able to take him by the neck and kick the back of his knee fast enough to send him toppling over his own weight. But before she could regain her composure, another officer tackled her with his entire body. She was held with a boot at her neck, choking the air out of her, until she was rolled over and placed in electromag cuffs behind her back.

Najima was raised to her feet with the CP officers angrily garbling at her through their helmets. "Where did the others go?"

"How am I supposed to know?" she wheezed, still recovering. She grinned widely before she said, "I'm busy being arrested." As expected, the CP officer threw a baton swipe at her, which she ducked, forcing him to hit his teammate. In their anger, they kicked Najima off her feet and to the ground before reluctantly lifting her up again. The officers chattered in their various communication devices as onlookers gazed on from the interior balcony.

The CP officers rambled around for around ten minutes, no doubt searching for the rest of the group, until they finally ordered Najima to move. She knew this procedure well. She would be taken for processing at the Civil Protection offices, and have to talk her way out of getting locked in jail. She was already thinking about possible tactics as she was pushed out of the apartment complex and back into the bright sunlight, where a large crowd had gathered. Many were using their tablets to take pictures or videos, not being accustomed to so much trouble in their small town.

"Get in the vehicle," they ordered, directing her to a Doyel with CP markings. But as the door opened, everyone - even Najima - dropped to their knees with fright! _TUHTUHTUHTUHTUH_ went the sound of a ballistic assault rifle, a sound not often heard, as most guns fired laser. The loud blasts sent people screaming in all directions as several bullets struck the apartment above Najima and the officers heads, and after a pause, several more shots careened into the hard metal and glass of the nearby CP-squad Doyel.

Najima had been fired upon before, and despite the surprise of the gunshots, she quickly trained her eyes up toward the sound, where she saw the shooter draw back their gun. Her view was blocked by the sun, blinding the image into a dark silhouette along the rooftops of the buildings across the street. The figure was tall, lean, and held his assault rifle in on hand, to the sky. "Looking for someone?" the silhouette hollered in a gruff voice.

The CP officers had all but abandoned Najima, pushing her to the sidewalk as they scrambled to grab their firearms. "It's Otto al-Kara!" yelled someone in the crowd with a better view. Some people screamed, some people ooh'd, and the majority of the CP officers began yelling orders for al-Kara to surrender.

"Why don't you play with someone who's worthy of your attention?" the man laughed from the rooftops.

"Put your weapon down or we will fire!" screamed the CP officers.

"Put this down," al-Kara returned, before opening fire again, riddling the CP car and sandstone ground with bullets. The officers returned fire, but al-Kara's silhouette had vanished behind the edge of the roof. In an instant, CP officers began scrambling to vehicles, rushing down alleys, and abandoning the scene.

Only one officer was left afterwards, having been ordered to take Najima to the CP offices. He grumbled through his mask before ordering Najima to follow him. The remainder of the crowds - the rest having either ran away from al-Kara and the gunshots, or ran after the police to witness the action - parted like a doorway to let the officer escort Najima. They were passing the alley where the others no doubt were able to run away. As they came around the corner, Najima glanced to see of any sign of their escape.

But the first image was a figure running directly toward her and the officer. Najima quickly realized it was Bri, although at full sprint. It looked as if Bri was about to tackle the officer. Najima pulled herself away from the officer, turning her back to Bri, before she heard a loud pop.

The officer began screaming and Najima felt an arm wrap around her own, which began pulling her away. She glanced over her shoulder at Bri, then turned back to the CP. The officer scraped at his helmet as if it were covered by angry wasps, before scrambling for his gun.

Bri threw what looked like a small rubber ball at the officer with her free hand, which struck him in the side. In an instant, it exploded into a small but violent electrical burst. The shock made the officer throw his gun out into the street as he began to yelp in pain, slapping at his side as if to put out a fire. This gave Bri enough of a lull to produce another ball, which she threw hard to the ground. The moment the ball struck the sandstone sidewalk, it burst into an engulfing cloud of smoke, as if the street were suddenly plunged into center of a grassfire, the scent stinging the insides of Najima's nostrils.

Najima could hear chaos in the streets again, as people began screaming and coughing. But the layer of smoke allowed Bri to drag her away, back to the alley, and out of the smoke. No sooner had they escaped, they bolted down the street, Najima somewhat slower with her hands still bound.

"The others are going to help Otto! Do we have a way to get out of here?"

"I have a raft at the spaceport!" Bri and Najima quickly skirted their way through the hot desert town, through alleys and past confused passers-by, until they climbed the stairs of the spaceport several blocks away. The confused attendant tried to make a comment, but in only moments, Bri and Najima were on the raft, and it was airborne.

∞∞∞

"Sorry we left," Bri explained once they had risen high above the city, where the heat of the desert was lessened by the cooler, higher air. "We didn't know what to do. Then we got a call from our boss, and he wanted to help you."

"Your boss is the terrorist?"

"I mean, if you want to call him that," Bri said shyly. Her black hair waved in the wind as her pony tail bounced along her shoulder as she looked at the ground below. "Anyway, you can think what you want later. Let's get those cuffs off you."

Najima was thankful for the suggestion, as it took a great deal of effort to control her raft tied as she was. The only thing that could break an electromag cuff was a strong burst of energy, or the accompanying key, the latter neither of them had. Najima mentioned that her pistol was in her satchel, but Bri told her that was far too dangerous. "I have a better way." She dug in her own bag, producing another of her bouncy-balls.

"Do you usually wander around with all these balls? I don't want to get shocked like that guard."

"I'm a chemist," Bri said. She broke the ball with her hand and poured a little of the blue dust, into her hand. "I know how to mix chemicals, and we usually get into the same types of situations. So I keep some mixes handy. This stuff is concentrated shock powder. Nasty electrical shock, but only lasts for a second. I'm not going to throw this at you - just going to use a little bit of the powder. It might sting a little." Najima clenched her teeth before Brishti tossed the dust on the cuffs. Najima yelped as a zap of electricity spiked through her hands. But after a second, it was gone, and the cuffs shattered into nothing.

Najima rubbed her wrists, dulled by the shock. "That actually worked."

"Told you so. And your hair..." Bri laughed as she patted down the frays of Najima's hair which stuck up at odd angles after the shock, brushing it until it was back to normal.

Najima thanked her with a friendly and rough poke before hopping to her feet and opening her rafts sails. "Which way are we headed?"

"This is how you travel?" Bri asked as Najima adjusted her raft's anti-grav engine, directing them toward a location on the horizon that Bri pointed to.

"She's my sweetheart. Been taking care of me for over half a year, and hasn't managed to let me down yet." As they began to float on, Najima sat with her new friend, giving her brief spiel to Bri, about how she traveled the stars, wandering free, and doing as she pleased. When Bri asked why Najima left her home, she simply said, "I'm looking for something that I lost," just like she told everyone who asked. She only realized then that she was playing with her anklet unconsciously as she spoke, and stopped.

"The big question," Najima continued, "is why did you all help me? You could have left me and not had a second thought."

"Well, Brat wanted to just run... And Priya wasn't sure. But I said we should go back for you somehow. Because, well, you seemed different," Bri replied, before pausing to gather her thoughts and confidence. "You are different. I can't say I've ever met anyone who would just help us. Or someone who would throw themselves at CP officers for fun."

"You three were trying to help people. I like that," Najima said. "Even if it means getting in a little trouble to do some good."

"It was fantastic. We can't thank you enough, really." The two shared a smile before Bri continued, "So once we were safe, I called our boss, and told him the situation. He decided to drop by, and well, you saw the rest."

"And your boss is Otto al-Kara. Why would he want to help you three save me?"

"Obviously we got away after you stayed behind. He was surprised you did that for us. So he said the least we could do was bail you out. And maybe you would help us," she said, although the last part of her sentence notably accompanied a shy drop in her voice.

"Help you with what?" Najima questioned. But Bri replied that Najima could hear for herself once they met up with the rest of the group. As they hovered far beyond the outskirts of the town, they shared a less serious conversation, about what they enjoyed and what their lives were like. Brishti was remarkably intelligent, and Najima couldn't help but be a little surprised. It made Najima wonder what could bring a young, talented scientist to fall in line with a feared terrorist who would not hesitate before shooting at civil protection.

After 45 minutes of flying, the sky changed to an even deeper orange, the glare of the hot sun glazing the horizon into a blur of light. The barren desert below them suddenly rose into a collection of mesas and bluffs, giant slabs of rock rising like skyscrapers from the earth. Brishti said this was their destination, as Najima looked down at the weaving paths in the mesas, like miniature roads, all carved by streams that had long since evaporated to nothing.

Bri directed them to a location near the heart of the mesas, where an odd clearing stood out, a cylinder of rock where many of the ancient streams must have collected into a lake. The raft landed, and the two of them stepped off in the space, filled with cacti which clung to life. Standing in the heart of the mesas was like being lost in the middle of a grand city, burnt brown-orange coloured rock walls stretching for dozens of stories high.

"Here we are," Bri announced, although there seemed to be nothing to announce. There was nothing in this cathedral of stone except a stumpy rock in the middle of the clearing. Najima hummed with apprehension until Bri knelt down at the stumpy rock. It was only then, in the darkening evening light, that Najima noticed there was something odd about the colouring of this rock compared to the surrounding geology. The rock - apparently a manmade creation - had a small hatch built into it, revealing a keypad underneath. Bri entered in a series of numbers and letters as the rock beeped faintly.

"Follow me," Bri said with a smile, before walking directly toward the vertical rockface in front of her. She continued at a steady pace until she passed directly through it.

Najima approached the mesa wall before putting her hand to it. There was no rockface - it was an illusion \- Najima's hand passed directly through the hologram rock, as if it had been eaten by the rock itself. "Now that's cool. I actually feel a little weird about this..." Najima closed her eyes and took a breath before walking into the mesa.

When she opened her eyes and let her breath pass, she was in a very large room of stone, a cave carved directly within the bluff. There were a few screens on the walls, above a collection of terminals on one side of the room, with electrical wires running along the floor to power the various electronics. It was a disorganized space, but the fact that it was hidden within a giant cliffside was testament enough to the resourcefulness of the occupants.

"We're back!" Bri called out to the room, which became lively with residents. From the corner of the room, where a very sophisticated anti-grav car was parked, Brat appeared, throwing several tools to the ground; from a hallway on the far side of the room, Priya bounded around with a big smile, already enthused to see how their plan worked perfectly. He was followed by a young girl, around Bri's age, with long hair and a slim, curvy figure.

"How did you two get here?" Brat asked. Bri explained for Najima, and with her permission, told Brat to move it as he promptly left the room through the holographic wall.

But Najima's eyes trained across the room. From the hall on the opposite end of the control room, following the new girl and Priya, a tall man with olive skin and a thick, black, scraggly beard entered the room. The others nodded as he approached Najima and looked her over. He had a gaze like granite, his cheeks decorated with scars, and his body was well built, his arms looking as hard as the cave's walls.

"You look even smaller up close, kid," he said, in his deep, gruff voice. "Not exactly what I expected when I was told you saved my friends."

"I can hold my own," Najima returned with a grin, no hesitation in her voice. "Are you the boss man, then?"

He returned her grin. "My name is Otto al-Kara, and this is my little group of heroes. What's your name?"

"Najima Dezetoiles."

"How does it feel to be hanging around with a group of terrorists, Najima Dezetoiles?"

"I'm sure robbing food strikes fear in the heart of your enemies, Otto al-Kara."

Otto laughed in return, and loosened his demeanour. "At least she has a sense of humour. Why did you decide to help my crew?"

"They wanted to good. I like people who do good."

Najima had an odd feeling around this man, like seeing an image in a haze of fog as he spoke to Bri, asking how their escape went. Although Najima was usually able to judge a person very quickly. But she could not find a place for this man. He had a dense uniqueness blinded by something abstract; something just beyond the tip of a tongue, like a thought that was almost remembered, but which never came to fruition.

But he listened eagerly to the escape from CP. Priya enthused about how she dove off the balcony, and Bri swore by Najima as well. "Nothing but praise, it seems," he replied, before turning back to Najima. "Are you going to stick around with us for a little while then?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Always. Of course, now that you know where our hideout is, if you say no, we'll have no choice but to kill you. Nothing personal."

Bri insisted he was kidding, but Najima was already grinning, holding Otto's gaze. How desperately she wanted to know what was going on in this man's head. "I could stick around for a bit."

"You're in the right place then," he said. Otto wrapped one arm around Priya, the other around the girl who had followed him in. "You've met most of the team already: Bri, our in-house chemist; Priya here, our little tech expert. And this lovely lady is our team doctor, Annapurna."

"Not really a doctor," she said with a modest nod. "I mostly just do whatever the rest of them can't. Errands and stuff."

"Tell that after you say how often you fix us up after we get in a scrape," Otto laughed as Bratindra reentered the room from a staircase off to the side. "And who can forget our vehicle expert, Brat. Where've you been?"

"Moved her raft to the hangar with our ship," he grumbled, returning to his fancy anti-grav car.

"You travel by raft?" Otto asked Najima.

"You have a ship?" she returned.

"Just a small corvette called the Hayagriva. Nothing to write home about. Most of our planetside travel is done in that contraption of Brat's." Otto pointed to Brat's vehicle, which he called a Trogan. These were specially designed anti-grav vehicles which Najima had seen on the Stream. Unlike Doyels, Trogans were manually driven instead of automatically piloted, and were exclusively used for professional racing. "We stole it from some snooty aristocrat on a different planet. Four identical models like this one." Otto added that they felt the aristocrat would do fine with three. He patted Bri and Priya, and told them to get back to their work, before he called across the room to Brat. "Is that thing ready?"

"Been ready. I was just calibrating the engines. We can leave whenever you're ready."

"Leaving so soon?" Najima joked. "Got fancy terrorist stuff to do, I assume?"

"We'll stick around for a bit, so hold that thought. Annapurna, is dinner ready?"

"Just about," she replied, which elicited several whoops from around the room.

"A risky day of work deserves a good meal to end it, am I right?" Otto said. "Care to join us? Or are we a bad crowd for you, Matam Dezetoiles?"

His smirk and his tone were like a lasso. "I could stick around for a little while."

"Then its settled. Let's eat!"

∞∞∞

Dining with terrorists was not what Najima had first expected. For all this talk of Otto's group being dangerous in the news, everyone seemed jovial and fun, trading inside jokes over steaming curries set on platters. The fragrant aromas of the food stood out to what Najima was accustomed to, filled with spices foreign the region of the galaxy she used to call home. The deep red curry that was the main dish, Otto said, was one of his personal recipes, an inheritance of Otto's life in his home system of Rangpur.

Najima remembered learning about Rangpur when she was still in school. She was taught that the Rangpuri were villains who rebelled against the Empire, and seized control of a solar system and carved out a democratic nation of their own. Resenting their initial successes, the Emperor responded by destroying the entire fledgling republic in an act known as The Quell, a moment that still ached the hearts and memories of many.

But from her seat on the floor, around the stumpy table in the kitchen, all Najima saw were friends. They spoke of music, and of films that debuted on the Stream; of books, food, and desserts. The only hint that Najima was not at a bizarre slumber party in a secret cave was the frequent talk of guns across the table. But having spent the last year around her own laser pistol, this was not foreign to Najima.

The group wanted to know all about Najima. They asked her questions of where she was from, where she was going, what she was doing; Najima gave them her typical answers - the same responses she gave anyone who asked - the same response she had already given Brishti.

She was from space, she was looking for something she lost, and she would go anywhere she had to in order to find it. Sometimes she almost felt like a fairy tale when she spoke in such abstracts, and always wondered, especially when surrounded by such friendly people, if her secrets were worth being kept. But she told them no more specifics, instead drifting the conversation to more relaxed topics.

Eventually, when the last scraps of naan were mopping up the last drops of curry on their plates, the conversation drifted to galactic politics which brought about much contention even between the group. "It's not fair!" Brat hollered, waving his hands as he spoke. "People on the border, like on Nanda, didn't ask to be colonized by the Empire. The fact that they aren't up in arms like us makes no sense."

Bri wrapped her arm around Brat's arm as Otto leaned back on his pillow, laughing while Najima eyed him, as Annapurna contended with Brat. "You can't blame them. The last time people went against the Empire, the war happened. Most people don't want to fight anymore."

Priya chimed in next, "The Dravidian Empire has been around for over 5000 years. They were around, and colonized the entire galaxy long before the Vengali Commonwealth even existed."

"The Vengali Commonwealth is just history catching up to the present," Brat said. "The Vanga Kingdom was around for thousands of years too, way back in the day. And they fought the Empire's crazy colonialism."

"And they lost," Priya replied. "The Vanga Kingdom was already falling apart, but too stubborn to assimilate with the Empire like all of the old kingdoms back then."

Brat steamed with a grumpy face, knowing he had been argued out of options. "Well it's still stupid that the Empire won't let people be free. At least I haven't forgotten why the Vengali Commonwealth exists today. The only reason that the Vengali have a country now is because we stood up and stayed strong when the Empire told us no."

"So is this it?" Najima said. "I mean, I'm Imperial. Do you all hate the Empire or something? Is that why you fight?"

"We don't hate the Empire," Otto said, his voice commanding the entire room's attention. "We just don't like them. Bratindra and Annapurna are Vengali, but Priya and Brishti are both Dravidian."

"It's hard to explain," said Annapurna, "And it might not make sense to everyone. But we believe in freedom, and in justice. The Empire might have stood for freedom once," Brat moaned crankily as she spoke, "But regardless, they don't anymore. I mean, there are three nations in the galaxy: The Principality of Eelam, on the western end of the galaxy, and now the Vengali Commonwealth, in the northeast. Everything else belongs to the Dravidian Empire. And how do they treat these other countries? On the west, they blockade the entire area for thousands of years with a demilitarized zone, and with the Commonwealth, they fight a horrible war. I used to love the Empire... but they lost that love when they started wars."

"People deserve freedom," Priya said as Annapurna's explanation began to trail. "I think everyone can agree that people should generally be able to do what they want. But the Empire doesn't allow that anymore. It didn't when Eelam wanted to separate and try their own, new government. They didn't when Rangpur wanted to be a democracy. And they didn't when the Commonwealth tried to be democratic too. Democracy is popular. People want it - they want choice, even inside the Empire. But the Empire won't allow it. So we fight the Empire because they aren't letting everyone express that freedom they deserve."

"And it's more than that too," Bri noted. "The Empire has done horrible things. War crimes. Billions dead because they couldn't get along with anyone. Because they were so eager to stomp out any democracy that they'd kill anyone just to have their way."

Najima rubbed her chin as she listened to the passion of her new friends. "So do you all fight with the Vengali Commonwealth?"

"Not technically," Otto replied. "The only reason we support them is because we agree with them: that democracy and freedom is a good thing. If they started restricting people freedom of choice or freedom of expression within the government and political system, we would teach them a lesson too. And we have, on a few occasions." The table nodded in agreement, except for Brat who huffed angrily at any talk against the Commonwealth.

"Don't forget," Brat said, "we're also here to teach those scumbag Imperials that they need to pay for everything they did in the war. Just like Bri said. They did bad. They need to pay for it."

"What about me?" Najima asked. "I'm Imperial, and I didn't even know you existed until today. Why should I pay?"

"Whether you like it or not, we've all lost something because of your government."

The note was sour, and the table grew quiet.

"You can't just say something like that, though. Not without proof." Najima said.

"We're the proof," Otto replied, and the quiet grew even louder. Most of the table turned their heads down. "Brat found me early on. He was orphaned during the war. His dad, mom, and brothers all killed in a battle. Annapurna lost her sisters, and an uncle, if I remember. And even though they're Imperial, Priya's father was killed by an Imperial raid on his hometown. 'Collateral damage,' they say. But they neglect to mention that collateral damage means innocent civilians, like his dad, are the ones who end up as a statistics in an after-action report. And Bri lost both of her brothers. They fought with the army. One died a 'hero,' and the other was arrested for conspiracy, and executed."

Otto's eyes slimmed and his brow grew straight with anger. "And then there's The Quell. That's my reason. The Empire came in, and destroyed every planet in my system. Billions dead within hours... My friends, neighbours... my entire solar system was put in front of a firing squad for wanting to govern ourselves."

The words hung in the air with a pause as Otto collected himself. "We've all lost something to the Empire. Even you, I bet," he said, pointing a finger across the table. Najima couldn't help but pout, because he was right. No matter how well the Empire treated her as a child, or how lucky her family was, the Empire was responsible for what she lost. She would never have left home if she had never lost something to the Empire. It was hard to disagree with Otto. Her thoughts drifted to her anklet, but she shook the memories away.

"We are the reason that we fight," he said, standing from the table, arms folded, looking upon his group. "We are here because we have lost something. Something we love. And we are not going to rest until the Empire has learned that it cannot continue to take. We won't stop until we teach those responsible what we lost."

The table responded with a chorus of affirmation. Najima had never met someone with such conviction as Otto al-Kara. It was clear that he had lost much in his life, and so had all those who surrounded the table now. Najima had lost with them. It only made sense to her for them to demand justice from the Empire. Najima knew that she wished she could have justice as well.

∞∞∞

After dinner, the group returned to their routine tasks while Bri showed Najima around the group's small compound. The main room had a small corridor which led past several small rooms, each with bunks for sleeping, the walls all carved of the stone. "Otto told us that this was some type of military storage area during the Independence War," Bri said. "It works for us, no matter who made it." At the end of the hall was the kitchen and dining space.

Back in the control room, a staircase constructed of metal led from the main room to a point high up the mesa, to a perfectly rectangular room which acted as a dock for spaceships. The group's corvette, a lean, curvy, and sleek machine, sat idly next to Najima's raft. "That's the Hayagriva. The exit to the dock has the same type of hologram as the entrance. We're able to stay completely hidden here."

With the moons already high over the desert, Bri led Najima back downstairs, toward the room she would be sharing with her, until they met with Otto in the control room. He stood with a grin and an assault rifle over his shoulder, dressed in black. "Tired already?"

"Not terribly. What are you all dressed up for?" Najima teased.

"Big party. Very high fashion. I need a date though. Want to come?"

"I dunno, Bri and I were just about to get all cozy and cuddly in her bunk," Najima said, wrapping her arms around Bri and sending her into a blushing and laughing fit until she let go. "Why should I?"

"From what I've seen about your type of fun, this party is just your type of soirée. There's another stockpiling warehouse on the other side of town, this one owned by the Imperial Army instead of CP. They recently got a shipment in, and we'd like to borrow that shipment with no intention of returning it. I was going to take Brat in with me," Otto said as Bratindra approached and wrapped his own arms around Bri's waist with a leer at Najima, "but he's not exactly the most - how shall we say? - agile."

Brat lifted a middle finger to Otto as the others laughed. "Care to join us?" Otto asked. "We could have a nice little bonding experience."

Najima felt that magnetism again. And going on this little mission with him would offer her a chance to see the work they're actually trying to accomplish on Nanda. "Let's do it." Otto told her to gather what she needed, and bring her weapons. She set her things in her bunk, and bid goodbye to Anna, Priya, and Bri as she, Brat, and Otto boarded Brat's Trogan, and they sped out through the winding canyon walls.

As they left the complex of mesas, they sped past cacti at hundreds of kilometres per hour, the moons lighting the ground as their vehicle hummed across the landscape. Najima could glance at shadows of local wildlife skirting out of the path of the speeding Trogan. She had never been in a Trogan before. While Doyels were more like a floating living room, with seats facing inwardly so the occupants could talk as they were driven automatically, a Trogan had forward facing seats. The speed was baffling, but Brat's skill with vehicles which had boasted about shined, as he guided past any obstacle without a blink of hesitation.

"So bring me up to speed," Najima said to the silent car. "What should we expect?"

"We're looking for some very particular boxes," Otto explained. "They'll be wrapped in red and should really stick out. We need to get in, take them as fast as we can, and get out before we're detected. That's when," Otto said, pointing at Brat, "I call our trusty chauffeur in to pick us up."

"Seems easy enough."

The terrorist smirked as he craned his head toward Najima in the back seat. "Don't get too complacent. The only way inside the building is through the roof."

"Seems easy enough," she said, smirking back.

∞∞∞

Brat parked at the edge of town, letting the two off before racing away. Najima and Otto lurked through the alleyways, avoiding the brightly lit streets that were busy with the traffic of those citizens who did not abide by Nanda's inanely short day-night patterns. Many of the streets were already decorated for the upcoming parade that Najima had heard about, with banners and streamers draped over the roads.

After a series of streets were crossed, and alleys were crept, they found themselves in the same area of town that Najima was in earlier. Najima recognized several buildings, and only for a moment did she worry about the potential of getting caught again.

The moment quickly passed, and they came to the intersection of another alleyway. "This is our stop. The building is there, at the end of the next two alleys - the bright one that's all lit up. Looks like the scene you all caused earlier didn't make anyone happy." As Otto spoke, he reached into his satchel and procured a small communicator, no larger than a thumb, with an earclip, and passed it to Najima. "Now you'll be able to hear Priya on the other end," he said as she flipped the ON switch.

"Signal's good, and the transmission is secure, so nobody can hear us," Priya said after Najima tested the line. "Here's the deal. I can only hack the security Lenses from the outside of the building. The ones inside have a much higher encryption than I can handle from here. The algorithmic architecture of this Imperial system is..."

"Speak Common to me, Priya. I don't speak computer nerd," Najima said as Otto shook his head smiling, assuring the ballistic assault rifle he carried on his back was armed properly.

"Basically, the security Lenses inside are on, and I can't see what they see. That being said, I can block their transmission for a short time. The cameras will stop recording, but only for about five minutes, before their cyberterror protocol will be able to break through my attack. No promises on whether that time is accurate, either. So you'll want to be fast."

"What are we taking?" Najima asked.

But Otto interrupted Priya, patting Najima's shoulder. "I'll explain later. We'll let you know when we're there, Priya. Keep an eye out on the guards' movements." Priya acknowledged before signing off, and Otto began smiling that smile of his. "Now we go up."

Without a second more, Otto darted away from Najima, straight toward the alley wall. He bounded at the vertical wall before springing off it back toward Najima. She scooted away as Otto leapt and scrambled at the wall before lunging his rifle, held by the barrel, toward the emergency escape grating above the alley. Remarkably, it caught, and with much struggling, Otto lifted his muscular body to the grating above.

"Not bad for an old man," Najima said. She honestly didn't think he could make the jump, and had not even thought to use the escapes as a route to the roof.

"Old man? Hurry up, baby girl, or you'll be late for school," he goaded in reply, lowering his gun's hilt. Copying Otto's movements, Najima spring-boarded from the wall, scraped up the other side, and wrapped her hands around Otto's gun. With a bit of struggle and creaking metal, Otto lifted her up.

"For being a tiny girl, you sure do weigh a lot."

"I'm sure I should go on your diet then. Do all terrorists make curry as oily as you?" After an exchanged laugh and breaths of rest, they climbed the stairs past tinted apartment windows toward the roof, a maze of solar panels and rain catchers that sat empty, their bottoms only filled with weeks of sand and dust.

"Say what you will about my food. At least it keeps me fit, little lady," he replied with that grin as he tightened his gun's strap diagonally across his back. With a deep breath, he turned, raced toward the edge of the building, and leapt into the air. He sailed, legs flailing, until the soles of his boots came upon the edge of the building across from them. After a quick stumble, Otto found his balance and turned back to Najima. She could not see by the moonlight, but she knew he was grinning.

In a hushed yell, Otto said, "Don't leave me waiting too long. I thought you were up for a challenge."

Najima felt her own grin rise, and without looking at the edge, she turned away from Otto, and picked up a running start, before lunging into the air. She watched the orange-lit, tight street pass below her. The distance was easily two meters across, which was a terrifying distance for a jump from 4 stories up; her legs wagged in the air before her feet found solid ground far past the edge of the opposite roof, much further than Otto's landing. Her inertia forced her into a roll, which she bounced up from onto her feet, her black hair flying wild in the cool desert night.

Najima spun on her toes to face Otto, and curtsied in her shorts, tongue out. "Challenge accepted."

"You weren't even curious about how far that jump was?"

"Curiosity is more fun when its hands-on. I won't know how far a jump is until I jump. So I jump."

"You're a little crazy. I like that," Otto said, grinning all the while, as they crossed the roof.

"Says the man who is a terrorist. You define crazy."

"Says the girl who wanders through space on a raft. Ever thought about how easily you could die out there?"

Instead of replying, Najima raced ahead of Otto and jumped across the much smaller gap of the alleys that separated the building. "Danger is comedy. I laugh," she called from the other side as Otto took his jump.

"Tell me this then," he said with his smirk, "what can possibly drive a school girl to drift around the stars."

"I'm looking for something I lost," Najima replied mechanically, wiping her finger along a nearby solar panel.

"Lost what?"

"Something special. Only one of it in the entire galaxy."

"I know that feeling," he said in a muted tone.

"So I'm not going to stop until I find it."

"Be lucky you can find it. Some things that you lose are lost for good." Otto picked up speed and raced to the edge of the building, taking another leap like their first jump, crossing the street below. Najima followed after, this time her heel catching on the edge of the building. She felt herself slipping before Otto grabbed her above the elbow and pulled her onto the roof. They stared into each other's eyes. Najima saw something poignant in the terrorist's gaze as she thanked him.

They walked quietly for a moment before Najima spoke. "What did you lose?"

Otto stopped, but only for a moment, before resuming his pace. It was as if he had crashed through an invisible spider's web. "My wife. In The Quell." Najima had almost forgotten. She could not even imagine how horrific the event must have been, and she searched for words, but found none.

Thankfully, Otto continued, his voice lilting to a rhyme. "'When the fires rain upon / Rangpur's golden lands / Will they see the force of / Of the people's fiery hand.' War poem. It went viral on the Stream a long time ago, during the Independence War between the Commonwealth and the Empire. Something about it always inspired me."

The two hopped across the next alleyway, to the last section of building before reaching their destination. "Are you supposed to be the fiery hand?" Najima asked.

"The fiery hand is democracy in the face of imperialism. But sometimes, yes, I like to think I'm the fiery hand." He turned his head toward Najima. "We're a lot alike, you and I. We both won't give up for what we believe in. And we both want to do good, to the point that we're not scared for our own safety. I could use someone like you on my team, Najima."

Otto turned to look at the two moons on opposite ends of the sky before turning back to Najima. "We're planning something big when this mission goes well."

"When it goes well?" Najima said teased. "Not if it goes well?"

They reached their destination, separated by one last small jump, and turned to the brightly lit facility across the main alleyway below. Both took a wide leap before landing on the bright rooftop.

"I don't need ifs with you by my side," he laughed. "Even if you don't travel with us once we leave Nanda, I would like you to fight alongside us. What do you say?"

The magnet. Otto's idealism, despite his history, was impossibly attractive. His history made her want to hurt for him, while his conviction inspired her. How could she say no to helping him, or to helping the people he wanted to save? "We might make this work."

That grin.

"That's what I like to hear." Otto put his hand to his communicator. "Priya, we're here."

"I have you on camera number seven, over on your right. Say hi." Both turned to a camera on a pole, almost invisible in the night sky, as it wiggled left to right in a wave. They waved back. "Alright, I've also deactivated basic security protocols on the facility. Bri wants to know what material the windows are made of?"

Otto approached the nearest skylight, made of what looked like clouded glass. But when Otto knocked upon it with his hand, it sounded dense and heavy. "It's a foggy crystal."

Bri's voice came from the other end, in Najima and Otto's ears. "I planned for that material too. Check your satchel, Otto. It'll be the orange one."

Otto produced one of Bri's odd chemical cocktails in the form of an orange ball. Bri's voice returned to the line in their earpieces, and told Otto to throw the ball hard at the window. As he did, the ball shattered, spilling a white, unnatural substance into a glob upon the window. It looked like a glob of pure white snot, and the rancid smell twisted Najima's nose. It seemed to do nothing more than sit pitifully until Najima saw the glob begin to spread across the window. After a few moments, the substance had eaten the window away.

"Well done, Bri," Otto said, promising to reward her with some chemistry equipment later. Najima laughed as she heard Bri giggling in the background. "Brat, you there?"

"Waiting, boss," Bratindra replied.

"We're going to start the clock. Don't be late. Priya, it's your call."

"Good luck," said the voice of Annapurna from the other end. She sounded tense, which gave Najima an odd feeling, before Priya spoke. "Security is down... now. Make it quick."

Otto nodded to Najima before he eased himself into the room. After some situating, he dropped into the dark room. Najima followed suit, and landed with a clack upon the concrete ground. The room was filled with aisles of high shelves, all lined with boxes.

"Now remember," Otto whispered, "We're looking for boxes with red wrapping. It's like Yule came early. Split up and stay quiet. Remember, there are guards outside."

The two crept around the room, sifting their eyes through the endless boxes. Military hardware, unconstructed weaponry in various containers, plasma grenades and plasma mines. The amount of military hardware here was almost baffling. "What's all this stuff doing here?" Najima whispered.

"Not important. Find the boxes," Otto hissed back. She continued to cross the room, weave through the aisles with a hurried pace as Otto whispered four minutes.

A noise filled the room, which sounded like air escaping. It was quiet, and lasted less than a second, but loud enough to stop Najima in place. She heard Otto's boots slide to a stop as well.

"What was that?" Najima asked, but Otto mumbled a reply of unconcern. Weaving through the aisles, Najima was a little concerned that she and Otto were so far apart. That's when her eyes halted on the fourth row of boxes on an aisle. Two boxes wrapped in red wrapping. They did look like Yule presents.

"Otto," Najima whispered when suddenly the noise from before came back. It was much louder than before, and much closer to Najima, although she couldn't see in the darkness. She spun around as Otto asked what was wrong from across the room. That's when the noise pronounced to the room, one simple cough. Najima only had time to turn and focus her eyes low, instead of high. In a chair, tucked in a corner against a wall along the aisle she was in was a tubby soldier who had just woken from slumber. He had no helmet, and his eyes were bleary in the low light as he stared straight at Najima.

He had enough time to raise his gun before Najima threw the bottom of her boot directly into his nose with a powerful side-kick. But the blow of her kick forced his finger on the trigger of his laser rifle, and a shot sparked off the roof.

"Najima!" Otto said, above a whisper. "You okay?"

"Otto, guard. Boxes over here!" Najima raised her hands to the boxes, but was too short to reach. "I can't get them. Get over here." She heard the clacking of his boots as a commotion came from across the room - more boots stomping into the room as a door slid open on the far side of the warehouse. "Hurry," Najima said as she skirted out of the dead-end aisle and ran toward the open door, where orange light from the streets streamed in.

"There's someone in here!" A guard said through their helmet. "I heard a gunshot."

"Listen, footsteps!" another yelled as Najima drew her pistol before shooting a wall. The flash of laser light was enough to light the room for a second, to reveal four guards in the doorway. The guards raced toward Najima's location, screaming orders, as she jumped upon the shelves and climbed them like a ladder. As the guards came from both sides of the aisle, they aimed their guns at each other.

Najima knew she had to do something to make sure they didn't see Otto, only a few aisles over. She could easily have shot them from above, and they wouldn't have known a thing. But she thought back to what they had said earlier: no killing. And she knew this was right. These soldiers lived Nanda. Shooting them wouldn't help anyone. They were innocent - merely caught up in Otto's plan. She had to think of another way.

"Where did they go?" one hollered as Najima tossed her pistol to the wall. It slapped along the concrete and clattered madly as all the guards turned their attention, firing several shots blindly at the wall. In their confusion, Najima took out her plasma daggers, splitting them into their two parts, and lighting them til their faint glow of magenta lit her face.

As the guards approached the thrown gun, she dropped from the darkness above. Her whole weight was brought upon an unsuspecting guard, who screamed in pain, before toppling to the ground. As the guards spun around, Najima swung a dagger along the first guard's shooting arm, burning straight through his suit. He screamed and threw his own gun in the air before Najima's second blade cut across his shin, searing through skin, and dropping him to the ground.

The second guard took two shots at her as she ducked quickly in the dark, slicing the guard's ankle, sending the rest of his wild shots around the room. When she rose to her feet, she threw a cut, her blade skirted across the man's shoulder, before her second blade cut at his other wrist, wobbling in pain where he stood.

Seeing the final soldier was prepared to fire, Najima tackled the pained guard in front of her, sending him stumbling back into his companion. The guards and Najima fumbled into a pile, arms and legs flailing until Najima rolled away. The other guard freed herself by pushing her screaming companion away. She recovered her gun and aimed, but could not pull off a shot before Najima kicked high, knocking the guard's aim away. Najima swung her first blade to cut the guard's arm, the second along her waist, before Najima spun, and with a side-kick, knocked the guard to the ground.

Then Najima felt her feet rise off the ground until she was pushed hard into the wall beside her.

The first guard, who she had not struck with her knives, had recovered, and wrapped his hands around Najima's throat. She lost all her breath after hitting the wall and was gagging for air as the soldier pinned her, banging Najima's head against the wall.

The guard dropped Najima to the ground where she choked, desperately scanning the floor for her dropped daggers. The soldier retrieved one of the many guns upon the ground, and aimed it at Najima's head.

But the room was deafened by the shot of a ballistic assault rifle. _TUT!_ A metal bullet's slug struck the CP in the shooting arm, blood splattering with the shot, sending the CP into a screaming fit before a second shot rang out, and the soldier's thigh exploded. _TUT!_ He dropped to the ground as Najima, still gasping for breath, felt two arms wrap around her shoulders and lift her up from the ground.

Otto looked at her sternly, the barrel of his gun still smoking. "Get your things, time to go."

"Too late," said Priya's voice in their ears. Najima had forgotten in the chaos that Priya, Anna, and Bri could hear them. "You have 20 seconds before the alarms sound. 17... 16..."

"I got the boxes. Help me get them out," Otto said. Najima fumbled around the pained bodies on the floor and recovered her knives and gun, and hurried to Otto, who was already lugging a box. She grabbed her own box and realized how immensely heavy it was. While Najima was athletic, most of her strength was in her legs, not her upper body, and she struggled to lift the cumbersome crate as Priya continued his countdown: 10... 9...

She eventually lifted it and hobbled like a penguin toward the door. Otto came back for her, and grabbed the box from her hands. But before they could make their escape, the alarms sounded, a red light flashing like a quasar in the room. The siren was more deafening than the gunshot.

"Keep your head down! Don't let the cameras see!" With that, Otto took the box and the two hurried out of the building. Outside Otto tossed the box back into Najima's hands, the box banging hard against her breasts, retrieving his own contraband, and led the way out of the building, toward the sidewalk where they could load their boxes into the Trogan.

Except Brat and the Trogan were not waiting for them.

"Brat, where are you?!" Otto screamed as Civil Protection sirens began ringing from across the town. Najima and Otto stood aimlessly in place as Otto cursed.

"This way," he hollered, leading Najima into the alleys once more. "Brat, you better get here soon. Meet us around the corner - we're going through the back way." The two hurried between the buildings and around the intersection of the alleyways.

Najima did her best to peak around the large box and attempt to watch where she was going when she saw Otto stumble. He wobbled in circles, attempting to keep his balance, before growling loudly. He set the box down in an oddly gentle manner, before fumbling with his rifle while looking down.

Only then did Najima see the cause for disturbance: there was a woman was in the alley. She was not a CP nor with the army - just a citizen, dressed in a sleek dress. Otto had ran into her while not looking. She began screaming wildly as Otto suddenly aimed his rifle at her.

Before he could get his aim, Najima dropped the box to the ground, ran to Otto, and threw a kick at his gun, knocking away his aim. He shot, a bullet ricocheting off the wall.

Furious, he attempted to throw the butt of his gun at Najima, but she parried, grabbed the gun, and ripped his rifle from his hands, throwing it toward the boxes.

"Otto, what are you doing?"

"She's a witness!" he yelled.

"She's a civilian."

"She saw us!"

"You're..." mumbled the woman in a deep Imperial accent, all lofty tones, "You're Otto al-Kara. You're the one that's been causing all the problems here."

"Shut up!" he screamed. He attempted to dart for his gun, but Najima pushed him by the chest, and produced her gun from her holster, and aimed it at her friend, the terrorist.

"Stop, Otto!"

"She has to be dealt with!"

"You're supposed to be helping her!"

"She's going to tell every CP that we did this!"

Najima wrapped her second hand around her pistol's hilt. "I will not let you murder this woman, Otto."

Otto growled at her as Najima aimed the gun at Otto's chest. One shot of her laser would send a charge straight through his heart, and out the other end. He would be dead in an instant. Every part of her instinct told her not to pull the trigger; it was like two magnets repelling against each other. As the two stared each other down, the sirens only becoming louder around them, a Trogan appeared at the end of the alley.

"What are you two doing?!" screamed Brat as the doors of the Trogan opened. "Get in! We've got to go!"

Both Otto and Najima looked to the terrified woman, then back at each other. Najima holstered her pistol, and grabbed Otto's gun, putting it over her own shoulder. He leered at her before turning to pick up his box. "Don't drop that box. Fragile."

He wobbled toward the Trogan and Najima lifted the remarkably heavy crate. Najima glanced at the woman one last time, where she sat petrified on the ground. She was bawling, but seemed to understand what Najima had just done. Najima noticed something familiar about her, something about the way her ritzy blue dress matched her blue necklace. But Najima grabbed her box before she bumbled down the alley.

Otto helped Najima place the crate inside the Trogan. She jumped into the vehicle with the boxes, the doors closed, and the Trogan accelerated from zero to two hundred kilometres in less than a second, lurching the three back as they sped out of the town.

∞∞∞

The ride back to Otto's base was excruciatingly quiet. First it was due to Bratindra's tardiness, Otto berating him for not being in position on time. "It wasn't my fault," Brat whined, explaining that he couldn't find a safe way to enter the town.

But it didn't matter, because Otto was venting frustration, and only part of that frustration was directed at Brat. The rest was squarely on Najima, and when Otto's tirade ended, she caught his angry glances from the back seat as the desert sped by. They said nothing more.

What could be said? Najima did right, she knew she did. She turned the situation over in her head. The woman identified Otto directly. She definitely saw Najima's face. They were also no doubt caught on the cameras inside the warehouse. But Najima did right. That woman did nothing to deserve Otto's rage. She didn't deserve to die over something so stupid. Najima didn't regret stopping Otto. But more importantly, why did Otto react like that at all?

When the trogan weaved its way back through the mesas, they eased the vehicle into the the hideout, through the holographic entry. Otto grumbled orders for Brat to open the boxes while Bri and Annapurna rushed to them, followed by Priya. They were all very concerned. "We just heard gunshots over the transmitter. We had no idea what to expect."

"I knew you two were alright, because someone would have said something if someone was hurt," Bri said, latching her arms around Najima in a tight hug, just like Zu used to. Brat leered from across the room as he continued helping Otto unload their contraband. "It was just so scary not knowing for sure though."

"It all worked out," Priya said hesitantly. "We got everything we needed. Right Otto?"

Otto didn't respond at first. The room looked to him as he stared at the large, clouded red, plexiglass box with Imperial insignias. Brat used a tool and forced the box until he peeked inside. "I'll need you for this," Otto finally said after a sigh, pointing to Bri.

The group approached the box, but Otto kept them at a distance, only letting Bri approach. She took out her small tablet from her pocket, and altered its malleable material from the size of a paycard to the size of a clipboard, before looking inside the box. She glanced between the box and her tablet. "It's good. This is exactly what we needed."

The room shared an applause, with some lighthearted whoops thrown in. "Does that mean our plan is good to go, Otto?" Priya asked.

"Day after tomorrow, yes it does," Brat said.

"What's in the boxes?" Najima asked. Her voice was more stern than she meant it. But after all this chaos, she felt she had a right to know. Bri began to speak, but Otto interrupted her. "We'll tell you more tomorrow."

Something about Otto's demeanour changed before Najima's eyes, although she couldn't tell what. He approached her, leaving the box behind, although he was no longer threatening, nor in his frustrated state.

He was like a magnet once more, and she felt his pull. "We worked hard tonight. And although some of us couldn't get our act together," he said, shooting a grumpy grin back at Brat, who shook his arms feebly, "you made this happen, Najima." He approached Najima directly and rested both his hands on her shoulders.

"If you weren't there to stop those guards, I would be locked up now. Not to mention that our little powerhouse here did more than distract," Otto continued, taking her wrist, and raising it above her head. He placed the firm grip of his left hand on her left shoulder, as he faced her toward the rest of his group. Priya, Annapurna, Bri, and even Brat gathered together, all smiles. "This girl single handedly took down three CP's in a fight with nothing but some very sexy daggers. Now that's some talent."

"There were four guards, by the way," Najima said with a smile. She felt her face growing warm with her pride.

"Well someone had to save your ass from that fourth," Otto laughed. Still holding Najima's wrist, spun her gently twice around. She couldn't help but giggle while he spun her and continued his flamboyant praise. "This little girl, who I admit, I thought would be a klutzy dope..." The room laughed as Otto settled Najima's spin so that she was facing him. She was lost in his gravity. "She literally saved the day for us. She has made our group. And I'm not saying that she's one of us," he said, shaking his arms to quell the room's excitement.

"But, Najima," he looked straight into her eyes, and she back up at the tall man before her, "If you wanted join us, I'd be happy to have you aboard."

"So don't clap for success!" he shouted. Najima almost screamed when she felt his hand at her waist, spinning her back toward the room, and pushing her forward. "Clap for her!" And so the room cheered, and high fives and hugs were exchanged, and Najima's smile filled her face. Najima looked back to Otto, who simply laughed and smiled.

"I'm glad I could help," she said when the room finally settled.

"Now I don't mean to be the grumpy dad and tell you all to go to your rooms. But big day tomorrow, and you all know it." Everyone slowly calmed and nodded in agreement. "Anna, Bri, you're bunking with our champion here so all the girls can do your hair or paint some henna - whatever cliché things ladies do together. Boys, you two are bunking. Tonight we celebrate and sleep; tomorrow we prepare."

∞∞∞

That night, Najima dreamt of boxes.

She had to carry 50 huge, red crates with imperial insignias on them, as Otto placed bullets, one by one, into the clip of his assault rifle. At Otto's feet, was the mayor, begging Otto not to hurt him. Najima ran as fast as she could to load the crates into the Trogan, but every time she returned to her stack of crates, they had doubled. Hundreds of crates, stacked like skyscrapers, remained waiting as Otto slowly loaded his magazine.

Now the woman with the necklace was in front of Otto's gun, crying out. Najima hurried back and forth, carrying the crates, until Otto finished loading his gun. Now the homeless girl from the sidewalk sat at Otto's feet, still building her rock skyscraper. She smiled as Otto cocked the gun. Don't do it! Najima said, but the sound did not leave her mouth.

She blinked.

Now she was on the ground, staring up at Otto. This is not the way, she screamed, but there was no sound. She tried to kick Otto and knock him off his feet, but her anklet had grown to the size of a giant boa constrictor, its rainbow twine wrapping both of her legs together. She looked up at Otto as he placed the cold barrel against her head.

∞∞∞

And she woke up with a gasp.

Najima was still in the cot with Bri. Her arm was wrapped around Bri, who pressed her head into Najima's shoulder. Najima calmed her own tense body until her breathing slowed; she focused on the warm press of skin against Bri, and she regained her focus. Bri was also lost in a dream.

After she untangled herself, tucked Bri in, and dressed, Najima joined Annapurna in the kitchen, where she had woken early to serve a large platter of dosas, which had mostly been eaten. "I'm still not used to cooking meals on a planet that spins so fast," she said. "You never really know if you're eating lunch or a midnight snack."

Najima laughed along as she served herself food. But her thoughts were muddled by her dream. Somehow, in her excitement the night before, she had almost forgotten about Otto trying to attack the woman in the alley. She forgot how suddenly it happened, and forgot to tell anyone about it. She was so swept up in all the praise.

Why would Otto react so suddenly, so instantly, to try to kill someone he says he should be helping. It didn't make sense. "Anna," she said, mouth half full. "Is Otto, y'know, prone to violence? Not against bad guys, but just in general."

Annapurna looked at Najima quizzically. "I mean, he can be violent. When the time calls for it, of course. We don't exactly have the most peaceful career choice. But that's why I work behind the scenes... I couldn't help people hurt anyone. But at the same time, if Otto says we need to make a point, I trust his judgment."

Najima thought if she should tell about the incident at all, or just drop it. The thought was considered only long enough to know that what Otto had attempted was not right. "Last night, as we were moving the crates, Otto and I ran into a woman in the alley. She recognized him. When she did, Otto pulled his gun on her. If I didn't stop him, he would have killed her. Do you know why he did that?"

Annapurna thought for a few moments while preparing a final dosa. She set it with the others on the platter before speaking. "Did he shoot the gun, or was he just being scary and pointing it?"

"I kicked it before he pulled the trigger. It saved the woman's life."

"I'm sure you misinterpreted something. Maybe he was going to shoot over her shoulder. Otto likes to intimidate people when he can. He knows people know him, and uses that to his advantage."

"You don't think Otto would have shot her?"

"I understand if he had to shoot a CP or a soldier. I don't like it... I just understand it. But he would never kill an innocent person. I wouldn't be here if that's what he wanted." Annapurna walked away from the table to tidy things on the other side of the room. "Otto says we only try to destroy things, not to harm people. I'm sure it was a misunderstanding."

Half an hour later, after the two had more congenial conversation, Bri woke up and joined them. She was in a rush, and scarfed down her breakfast quickly before leaving the room. Najima followed her.

"Bri, mind if I ask you a question?"

"Talk and walk, if you don't mind. I have a lot to do today now that we have those crates of..." she stopped speaking as they rounded the corner toward the central room. "Anyway, the question?"

Najima had also forgotten about the crates as well. What was in them, and why was everyone being so secretive? She let it slide for now. "Last night, Otto almost shot a woman we bumped into in the alley after she recognized him. He fired and everything, but I kicked away his gun in time. Why would he do that? Aren't you all supposed to be helping the people?"

Brishti led the way up toward the hangar, clanking up the iron steps. "Well, we do help people. But it's not always a straight line," she said, talking with her hands. "I've had to make chemicals that burn holes through buildings; I've made mixtures that taint water supplies and make people sick, and inks that blacken solar panels to make them useless. Nonviolent, but still harmful to some people. I've also had to make bombs that destroy trains and spaceports, too. And yeah, sometimes we've had to shoot people.

"But we try not to kill people," Bri insisted as they reached the top of the staircase, approaching the entrance to the Hayagriva which sat silently in the hangar next to Najima's parked raft. "Otto has shot a few civilians in the past, but only to injure them. Usually they were trying to grab him, and hold him down or something."

"This woman was on her hands and knees. She was helpless."

"Was Otto aiming at her head? Shoulder? Leg?" Bri asked. Najima thought back, but couldn't place a clear image. It was clouded by her dream, and all she saw was the dark barrel of the rifle. She told Bri that she couldn't remember. "Then he probably wasn't trying to kill her. You don't know Otto like I do. We don't kill people. It's a rule. We can, but we don't. Remember, he didn't shoot anyone when we went to save you after you got arrested. He could have, but he just shot around to get attention. And even last night, he spared the life of that soldier who had you pinned. He had every right to shoot that guard in the head, but he didn't. Why would he shoot at some stranger in the alley?"

Najima found it hard to argue Bri's logic. Bri continued, "I'm sorry, Najima, but I've really got to go," she said, pointing to the Hayagriva as they walked through the hangar.

"One last question: What's in the boxes?"

"Just chemicals and stuff. Science stuff." She said this at hyperspeed, the words barely taking shape long enough to leave her lips. "Otto told me to get straight to work, and that he'd explain to you later."

"He told you to tell me that?"

Bri took Najima's hand. "Yeah, before bed last night. Sorry. I don't mean to be secretive. But really, I've got to get to work. See you at dinner?" She let Najima go, and hurried up the entryway to the spaceship.

Najima returned to the central room where she had passed Priya, who was working at his terminal. "What's up, Najima?" he asked, happy to take a break from his tasks. She explained the same situation in the alley to Priya, who listened diligently. His eyebrows danced when she told him about the gunshot. "Why would he try to shoot her like that?" she asked.

"That doesn't make sense. Otto wouldn't shoot someone like that. That sounds like something Brat would do. Otto and Brat have been talking a lot lately... Maybe he knows something I don't. Either way, I can tell you a few facts." Priya turned to his terminal and guided Najima's gaze as he opened several different tabs on the screen.

One tab was a map, another was an empty graph, and another seemed to be a list of calls. He clicked a play button, and the map, graph, and list of calls all began to fill with data. "This is what happened as soon as that alarm sounded last night. I was guiding Brat on the best way into town after he told me he'd be late. See how quickly all this information is compiling? Those marks on the map are CP members activating, these are calls by civilians to CP, and these are the locations of the active CP units responding to you two." The entire map was becoming cluttered with red dots, and countless calls were being made by civilians. "It was chaos."

Priya paused the terminal and turned back to Najima. "We've pulled heists like this before. But this was one of the biggest, riskiest, and the closest we've ever come to getting caught. It was dumb luck you were able to get out when you did, bad luck that those crates were so heavy, worse luck that Brat wasn't on time, and the worst luck that the alarms woke up every CP in the town. Otto knew that, even without hearing it from me.

"Maybe he was just a little loopy from stress or something. Caught up in the moment, you know? Maybe that's why he was so violent with the lady."

Najima huffed at the rationale. "It still doesn't explain why he'd try to kill her though."

"You're right. It's weird," Priya agreed. "But you know, he's the boss, and I trust his judgment. This was a guy who was veteran in the Imperial Army, and a high ranking commander when the Republic of Rangpur when they became an independent nation. You don't keep prominent places in a military by just saying you're a cool guy. He knows what he's doing, and he's always been able to do it without causing harm. I trust his judgment."

"What was in the boxes, Priya?"

"It was... well, I mean..." Priya hesitated. "It was military supplies. But that's all I can say."

"Did Otto tell you not to tell me?"

The entryway to the hangar opened and a doyel \- not the trogan - floated in and parked itself along the wall. Brat climbed out of the vehicle and eyed the two of them before going to the nearby workbench. Priya looked warily at him, before looking back at Najima. "Yeah. It's for our mission tomorrow. He said he'd tell you more about it when he gets back. He took the Trogan out for scouting."

"Who's doyel is that?"

"Part of the mission too. Otto will tell you later."

Najima thanked Priya, and let him get back to his work before crossing the room to Brat. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

Brat was at a workbench, reassembling an assault rifle much like Otto's. "I've got to finish this and then work with this hunk of junk doyel. What do you want?"

Najima explained the situation and asked her question to Brat. He continued to work on the rifle as he talked. "When I got there, all I saw were you two fighting with each other while the entire bleedin' city wanted to arrest us, alright? I wasn't exactly paying attention to details."

"But why would he threaten to attack her like that?"

"Maybe for the same reason as me wanting to leave you two in that alley and save my own arse," Brat said. "Look, that woman got in the way, right? And she recognized him, yeah? As far as I'm concerned, that's one more person who wants us all rotting in a cell like the 'terrorists' we are."

"You are supposed to be helping these people, aren't you?" Najima asked, growing increasingly frustrated.

"My job is drive fast things. Whether it's flying the Hayagriva, driving my Trogan, stealing this Doyel, or driving your sorry arse around, I do the job I'm given. If some sorry sod gets in the way, then they better move." While assembling the rifle, a piece didn't fit correctly, and when Brat attempted to jam the piece in, it fumbled off the table to the ground.

He slammed the rifle on the table in a fit of rage, but took a deep breath, before finally turning to Najima. He tried to dull the tone of his unhappiness as much as he could as he spoke. "Otto's the man, alright? He knows what he wants, and he'll get what he wants. And what we want is to teach some Imperial scum that they have to pay for their crimes. If he killed that woman, maybe she shouldn't have been in the way. That's me."

Brat resumed his weapon maintenance as Najima continued. "What's in the boxes we stole?"

He leered at her. "Stuff. And by the way, don't get too close to Bri. I don't know you, so I don't trust you like Otto does. So just back off." He resumed ignoring Najima.

Fruitless in her efforts, Najima went to her raft in the hangar. She took time to read pages of her journal, attempting to think of something to write. Before she realized it, she had curled up in her thermal blanket and fell asleep. She was only awoken from her nap much later by Bri, who had finished her mysterious tasks. "I'm off to dinner. Come with me!"

Najima and Bri entered the kitchen to a full table, and Otto was midway through a speech. The group was jovial, although there was a lingering tension in the air. This mission that Najima had helped Otto prepare for was drawing near. This would likely be the last meal the group would have together before the event. She took her seat and listened to Otto speak in his magnetic fashion.

His voice trotted and swerved. The passion in his voice was remarkable, and you might assume him to be a famous orator. He spoke of duty, of freedom, and of life. But Najima made a keen attempt to guide herself away from his rhetoric. She had questions for this magnetic man.

After dinner, she pulled Otto aside. "We have to talk."

"We do," he responded, to Najima's surprise. "I've been busy all day and haven't had the chance to see you." She felt it again. His smooth voice and casual attitude was dripping onto her. She felt it blinding her, and had to force herself to keep from smiling. A slight part of her, however, told her that maybe she was getting carried away, and her instincts were wrong about Otto.

Otto led her to his private room, and unlocked the door with the keypad, the metal door sliding aside. His room was slightly larger than the two other bunk rooms. It featured a larger cot, and a desk with a personal terminal accompanied with a screen on the wall. He sat down in the chair at his desk, "You can sit on the bed. Sorry we don't have another chair."

Otto produced a pipe from a box on his desk. "Do you smoke any dhang?" Dhang was a type of weed that grew widely, and when smoked, would induce an intense mellowness. It was legal in the Empire, although banned in the Commonwealth. Najima told him she was not interested as he lit his pipe, and blew out the smoke.

A very powerful aroma filling the room and clouded the senses. It smelled like strawberries, mixed with something pungent and native, deep in scent like cardamom. Najima had only been around dhang smoke a couple times, and she never got used to the strange sensation it brought upon her, as if she were miles away from her own senses.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make time for you today," he said slowly, savouring his smoke. "This is definitely the biggest mission we've organized since we came to Nanda. There's no room for error."

A colourful flag hung above the cot: two bands of red on the top and bottom, with a green band in the center, punctuated in the middle of the flag with a golden star encompassed on either side by two golden half moons facing inward. Najima had never seen one of these in real life before - only in history books. It was the flag for The Republic of Rangpur, Otto's home.

"Like it?" Otto asked, and Najima realized she was staring at the flag, mouth open, practically drooling. How long had she been looking at the flag? It must have been the dhang.

"Sorry. Not used to all that," motioning at his pipe.

Otto laughed that laugh. "But you didn't answer the question." He tipped his pipe to the flag. "Like it?"

"I can't say I know a whole lot about it, honestly." For some reason these words came out bitter to Najima. Of course she knew about it, at least what she was taught, mostly in the form of facts and figures. An upstart nation, a sudden rebellion against the empire, a war that lasted only hours. The Quell, billions dead, refugees streaming to all corners of the galaxy. All saddening to read, but all abstract. Nothing Najima could say about Rangpur could compare to Otto's experience. "Sorry," she said obligingly.

Another laugh. "It's fine. It's always interesting watching people look at it. That flag, there," he said with a point of his finger, "is part of why I love flags so much. They're like art - no, they're better than art. Because they tell a story by an image. You have history, culture... life, really, condensed into a little rectangle." He stopped talking while he took a drag from his pipe, and turned away from Najima to look at the flag like a former lover he hadn't seen in years. Najima stared with him, lost between the dhang and memories of history readings in her home, on her bed. Memories of the touch of warm skin while reading textbooks.

"You look sad," Otto said, facing her. Najima had drifted again. She only just realized she had brought her leg onto the bed, and was holding it close to her chest, her finger twiddling her anklet.

"Sorry, again... Just thinking."

"Is that your flag?" he asked, pointing to her anklet. She put her foot back to the ground.

"In a way."

"You shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"I'm not. Just don't like thinking about it so often..." Najima mumbled.

Otto replied fast, "Even though it's all you want to think about?" She nodded her head solemnly. He took another long drag before he spoke again. "We didn't realize what we were doing, you know. I've read some of those history books they give kids. People say we wanted to change the world. But honestly, we just wanted to be be free."

"Free from what?" Najima asked, looking at the flag again. "The Empire?"

"No, more basic than that. I was an Imperial before all that. I loved the Empire. Years of service in the military and everything. I was proud to be an Imperial. But... nobody had ever done what Rangpur tried to do. We were the first republic in all history, at least the history we know about. We were the first people who said, 'You know, we don't need your government to tell us what to do. We're perfectly capable of doing that ourselves.' And for wanting to be free, we are massacred. What does that say about the Empire?" Otto grew solemn again, and looked at the smoke that rose from his pipe.

"Is that why you fight? Because you loved what the country was trying to be."

Otto shook his head. "It's more cheesy, really." He fiddled with the terminal on the desk, until he brought up a picture of a beautiful woman, his wife. Her ethnicity was instantly recognizable as Eelami. No brown or olive skin; instead, unblemished white, blue eyes, and blonde hair, with naturally bright red lips. She looked happy in her picture. "I fight for her."

"I'm sorry. What happened to her?"

Otto took a moment and smoked some more dhang. "She was caught in the Quell. The Empire was burning every planet in the system with that big ship of theirs, the Caustos. We were in the capital, the last planet to be hit.

"It was all chaos. All of the soldiers under my command were out of contact, so we were just trying to get out as fast as we could. Before take-off, the ship we boarded took some damage. It was bad, but not bad enough to ground the ship. We got past the atmosphere, and past the Imperial Navy. But the ship was scarred. And the hull breached. A huge gash ripped open in the cargohold where all the evacuees were. We wouldn't have been able to see her body out of the windows... she must have fell back down to the planet."

"But I fight for her. During the escape, I was being called up to the bridge - I had to help them plot the safest route out of the system. I was with her before that. And when I had to leave, I didn't kiss her. I didn't tell her I loved her. I wanted nothing more to be there for her, right then. To let her know that it was going to be okay. You know what she did? She told me that she needed to help others with their wounds. The last time I saw her, she ran to help someone else. She didn't even take a second to tell me she loved me, because she knew I knew. And she knew that somebody else needed her love so they wouldn't die."

He coughed a bit on the smoke in the air before continuing. "She lived every second of her life for others, just like that. And all I did was live my life for her. Now it's my turn to do as she did."

Najima looked at the flag once again and quietly laughed. "That was just a little cheesy."

"I'm a cheeseball," he said with a grin, shaking off the last hint of sadness with a laugh. "Her word, too."

"I can tell you loved her a lot."

"I can tell you love someone, too. The question is," Otto said, standing straight, approaching her, and placing his hands on Najima's shoulders, "are you willing to make the galaxy a better place for them, with me? Are you willing to fight for the freedom that everyone deserves? Are you willing to do anything to help these people? Will you help us, Najima?"

Her instincts were right. She looked at this man, and saw a man who wanted to help. It must have been like the others said - she was just misinterpreting. And he needed her help, to help the people of Nanda. She pushed against Otto's powerfully muscular arms and stood up as well. She was still only to the height of his shoulders, and had to look up to match his gaze. "I'll help you."

"That's the spirit I like to hear," Otto said as the door opened and Brat entered the room. Otto approached Brat and asked, "Are we ready?"

"And waiting," Brat replied. "Whenever you're ready to move, everything should work flawlessly."

"Wait there, Brat. Najima just agreed to helping us out."

Najima's head was still foggy from the dhang when she spoke, "You never told me the plan, though. What exactly did we steal the other night?"

"We're on the cusp of something big, Najima. Brat have I been talking a lot, and he's made some good points. We need some real, big action to show the Empire we mean business. No more thieving and destroying property. But with big need comes big action. Have you heard about the parade that's going to be in town?"

"I did, the other day, before I met you all. Some politician making his victory rounds, or something?"

"That's right," Otto said with a nod. "The governor, the CP commissioner, the mayor, and other officials, all in one place. A perfect time to give the Empire a little chaos. So we're going to hide out there, and detonate a bomb hidden in that Doyel Brat stole. Take off the head of the local government with the click of a button."

Najima's heart dropped like glass. The words were so harsh she almost felt like she was physically punched.

Otto began walking back to his terminal from the door where Brat still stood. "With the explosives from those crates we stole, Bri was able to construct a bomb powerful enough to wipe out those stupid Imperial fat cats. When all the players have arrived on the scene, we'll detonate the bomb remotely from nearby. All we need to do is be around to watch the fun, and make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I trusted you."

Otto al-Kara's excitement turned to curiosity. "What was that?"

Najima drew her gun, and the _ksshk_ sound of her holster and gun separating tensed her muscles. She aimed the pistol his chest. "I trusted you!" she yelled.

"Know how to use that toy?"

"Shut up, Otto! How dare you!"

Otto walked forward, until the barrel of the gun was pressed against his chest. He looked down at her with that magnetic grin, now twisted out of shape.

"I thought you agreed to do anything."

"You've had this planned since the beginning! You wrapped me up in this since I came here. And you knew I would never agree to this. You knew, Otto! It's bad enough with a bomb. But at a parade?! There will be innocent people there, Otto. Not just government officials, but civilians! What is wrong with you?!"

It felt like Najima's ribs had caved in. The hurt of Otto's deceit was almost unbearable. Najima grit her teeth, trying to think of words to reason with al-Kara, until he responded again.

"You know it's the only way, Najima. The only way to help fight the Empire is by hitting them where it hurts."

Whatever sadness Najima felt vanished. It was replaced with an unfathomable rage toward this terrorist who had finally earned his title. She pushed him back by the chest with her free hand before kicking him back into his desk, re-aiming the gun at his head.

"This is not the only way, Otto. And it won't be a way, because this idea ends here and now."

"Sorry, kid, but that ain't an option."

"If you don't agree to stop this now, by the light of the stars, I'll shoot you wear you stand!" It took all the effort in her to make this sound intimidating. She wanted to stop him, but she couldn't bear shooting him. She had to talk him out of it, although with her rage, she wasn't sure she could stay calm.

"Looks like you're going to have to shoot me darlin'," he said, taking a full step toward her.

Najima shot directly past his head. "Not a step closer, Otto al-Kara, or I swear you will be dead. I don't want to hurt you Otto!"

"Then help me."

"I will not help you commit murder, Otto!" Najima screamed.

"Then I'm sorry..." He replied solemnly. "Sorry that you are so weak, Najima Dezetoiles. Brat!"

Najima had forgotten in her anger! Brat was approaching her from the doorway, caught in her peripheral vision. She spun toward him, but he was already prepared, knocking away the gun with a swift blow to her wrist. She spun on her leg and delivered a swift kick to his gut, and he tumbled back toward the door. But before she could regain her balance, she felt a monumental pain on the side of her head, before all feeling was dulled, and she watched through blurred sight as she tumbled to the floor and into darkness.

∞∞∞

Not long had passed when Najima could feel her head again. She could tell because her hand went to check her injuries, and the blood from her head was still wet. She still had time. She jumped to her feet and ran to the door, banging on the keypad. It did not open, buzzing a rude noise and flashing a red light to show it was locked.

She had to stop Otto! It was her foolishness that allowed Otto the ability to carry out this disgusting plan, so if anyone were going to fix it, it had to be her. Her daggers and gun were gone. She quickly looked around the room for some alternatives, some way to possibly get through the door. She opened Otto's terminal, but it was blocked by a password - useless. She checked under the cover of the cot, in the small dresser filled with nothing but clothes: nothing!

In her anger, Najima ran to the door and began kicking and hitting it. How could she have been so stupid? She let him trick her with inspiring words. How could Otto ever think that hurting people would help them. This was inexcusable, and it was all Najima's fault. She hit at the door with her fists and screamed at the top of her lungs until she felt a tug in her wrist where Brat struck her. She grabbed it like she had touched a hot pan, worried she had injured herself further. It was fortunately only an ache from a dark bruise. The least of her worries.

She dropped to her knees and knocked her head slowly on the door. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't hack through a keypad in a million years, and there was no feasible way through the door. She kept banging her forehead on the door as if it would somehow divine an idea, until she was wiping tears from her eyes, and mopping her bloody brow onto the hem of her tank top. "I'm sorry..." she said, and wrapped her finger through her anklet with her clean hand.

"Najima? Najima, please don't hit the door."

"Anna!" Najima screamed. She wasn't alone. Surely she had thought all of them had left for the bombing.

But sure enough, Annapurna's voice rose from the other side of the door. "Please Najima, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Annapurna, you have to open this door!" Najima pleaded.

"You know I can't, Najima."

"He is going to kill dozens of people if you do not open this door right now," Najima said, hitting the door with her fist. "You said it yourself this morning. You wouldn't be here if he was killing innocent people. Well he's about to do that right now, Anna. He is going to kill countless people!"

"This is different. It's something we have to do. We have to take out these officials if we want to help the people. We don't have a choice."

Najima wiped another round of tears away, gritting her teeth, and focusing her emotions to a dark corner of her mind. "He is going to hurt people, Annapurna. This is not the way to make a point! There is always a choice. There is never one answer to anything, especially murder."

Her voice was weaker, almost inaudible through the room. "Najima, stop. Otto says we have to do this. You're hurting me. You can't say that."

Najima finally stood from the foot of the door and stared straight at the grey metal, as if she could see straight through it. "No, Annapurna. You're hurting yourself. Just like I did. We both believed Otto had good intentions. And we were both wrong. But I am not okay with being complicit in the deaths of people who have a life to live." She stepped back from the door, and threw a running kick straight to the center, before banging once more with her fist. "Their deaths are on your hands too," Najima yelled. "This is your fault."

There was no reply.

"I promise I can stop this Anna, but I can't do it if I'm trapped in here. You're the only person in the whole galaxy who can save those people right now. Please, Annapurna."

But there was no reply.

Najima waited, but heard nothing. After a couple minutes, she let herself calm down, and began pacing to think of a new answer. The air vents in this room were much too small to crawl through, like in a film on the Stream. Maybe the rock was weak enough to be chipped, but with what? Another several minutes of walking like a tiger at the zoo until Najima heard a slight beep.

The keypad now glowed yellow - closed, but unlocked. She reached the door in a breath, and leaned on her back leg, ready to kick any attack on the other side of the door as she tapped the keypad. The door slid aside, and Najima stopped her attack.

Annapurna was before her, trembling with fear when she saw Najima's preparing to kick her. They looked into each others eyes, and the fear was too much for Annapurna, as she dropped to the floor and began bawling. Najima knelt down and hugged her, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you."

"It's my fault, it's all mine..." she blubbered, but Najima shook her by her shoulders until she looked up from the floor.

"It's all our fault. We were stupid, and Otto is smart and charming. We made a mistake, okay?" Najima brushed Annapurna's hair out of her face. "But I promise you, I'll fix this."

"They can't die, Najima. I'm so sorry for everything," Annapurna sobbed.

"Where are my weapons and where did the others go?"

"He took them. They went to the old minaret on the east side of town. You can see the whole town from there." Najima said goodbye, and hurried toward the hangar, where she knew she could find her raft. But Annapurna called out to her, and stopped Najima in her tracks. "You're a good person. I hope you know that."

"You are too, Anna. Too good for people like Otto. But that's what he needs right now: good people. Take care of him alright?" She nodded feeble from her place on the floor as Najima rounded the corner before waving her hand with her grin. "Alvida!"

∞∞∞

The sun was at midday when Najima's raft finally came to a rest in front of the eastern minaret. The structure's age showed, with ornate carvings into the earthen walls that extended up to the orange sky. The Trogan was parked in front of the entrance. Otto al-Kara would be at the top. Najima hurried through the doorless archway and into the wall-lined stairwell.

On the first floor - although several stories up - with only small windows looking out upon the town, Priya sat at a mobile terminal. As soon as he saw Najima walk through the door, he panicked, spun around, and grabbed a pistol. He pointed it at Najima, but it shook wildly in his hands. "What are you doing here?!" he hollered.

Najima had assumed a cautionary stance, but relaxed it, and began approaching Priya. "Just calm down Priya, I'm not here to hurt you." She stepped slowly but steadily closer to Priya's chair. His hand shook even more vigorously. "I'm just here for Otto. I know you all think this is a good idea, but it's not."

"He told me that if you escaped, you'd be here. He told me to shoot you."

"But you're not going to do that, are you?" Najima was mere meters from Priya now.

"Stop, Najima!" he said, practically screaming.

"Put down the gun Priya." She was almost within arm's length.

And Priya pulled the trigger.

But the gun didn't fire, even as Najima stood directly in front of Priya. He pulled the trigger feebly several more times before Najima gently took the gun from his grip. "Left the safety on," Najima said, before tossing the gun away. "I'm surprised you actually pulled the trigger."

Priya hung his head in shame. "I was scared. I'm sorry, Najima. I didn't want to hurt you or anything... It's just that Otto..."

"Otto is the problem, Priya. But that's why I'm here. We can't let him do things like this."

"I didn't want to!" Priya pleaded. "But he said it was for the best. And there's a problem. All this terminal is doing is monitoring CP traffic, like that map I showed you yesterday. I can't control the bomb. It's on a timer! I can't stop it."

"I've already taken care of things, Priya. Where's Otto?"

Pirya mumbled incoherently, asking what Najima meant by taken care of things, before she calmly repeated her question. "He's at the top... I'm sorry, Najima."

She merely ruffled his hair. "Just keep your head on straight, Priya. Like you all said, you're trying to help people, not hurt them." With this, Najima crossed the room to the next staircase, and continued rising up the minaret as Priya watched her leave.

∞∞∞

On the next floor, Najima found Bri looking out the window. When she heard Najima's footsteps, Bri pivoted nervously. "What are you doing here? I thought you were back at base with Anna?"

"I came to stop you," Najima said. She was most disappointed with Bri. If there were anyone in Otto's group that could sway his horrible decision of bombing a town, it was the bombmaker herself. "What are you doing Bri? You know better than this."

Bri stood defiantly, reaching into her satchel and backing away from Najima's approach. "Otto knows what we're doing. I've made bombs before. He says we need to make a stand. And Brat says this is something that needs to happen too."

"They say, Bri," Najima replied as she continued to approach her. "But how many times have you blown up a crowd of innocent people with one of your bombs? You're smarter than this! You know it's wrong. When do you get a choice in the matter?" Najima's eyes trained to Bri's hand, where she pulled out one of her small chemical mixes - the same type of ball she had seen Otto using when they broke through the skylight of the warehouse. This one was coloured yellow.

"You just don't understand. You don't get it Najima! We've all had to make sacrifices. We'll have to keep making sacrifices." But even Bri's words faltered as she spoke them. She raised her hand nevertheless, yelling at Najima to stop her approach, which Najima obeyed.

Brishti's hand shook, and she seemed to be on the verge of tears. "This mix is called Ninde. It's a chemical sleep agent I made for disabling assailants. One dusting of this stuff and you'll be asleep in seconds. Don't make me use it on you, Najima."

"Bri, I'm not trying to hurt you. Just let me by." But this only stiffened Bri's stance, and she readied to throw the chemical mix at Najima.

"Don't you trust me?" Najima asked after a moment. Bri didn't respond, but tilted her head slightly as if to humour Najima. "Do you know why I'm here in the first place? Why I helped you, and Priya, and Brat in that alleyway? Why I helped Otto with those explosives? Because I trusted you. And I still do. Because the first time I met you, you weren't blowing things up, or mixing chemicals for bombs. You were wanting to feed hungry people. That's the Bri that wanted me to help her do some good and change the world."

Bri's hand lowered slightly, before her arm ran taut again. Najima was just glad she was listening.

"There are people out there right now that you gave food to. They are in that parade, standing right next to that Doyel. People you wanted to help. And when that bomb goes off, they will be dead." Her arm dropped further this time and Najima began approaching her again. They were now only separated by the length of the slim window next to them. Najima only stole one glance at the Civil Protection sirens that had begun ringing from around the town before she turned back to Bri.

"You're a chemist, Bri. I get it, this is what you love. And I know you're talented at what you do. But you can't build bombs that kill just because someone tells you it's a good idea. Because Otto is wrong, Brishti. And I have to stop him. But if you don't let me, well, it'll be your bomb that killed them. Not mine."

Bri looked out the window, and in this moment, Najima reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. Her grip was strong enough to be forceful, but only enough to keep Bri from throwing the Ninde. Bri responded with shock, before instantly losing the tension in her arm, and eventually lowered her arm.

"You're right... How could you be so right? Oh stars, why did I agree to this?"

"Otto's a cool guy. He knows how to make us do what he wants. He almost made me join you all. But that's not an excuse to follow through."

"But Najima, the bomb, we have it set on a timer. There's no way you can..."

Bri was interrupted by the stamping of feet. What they had not seen was the creeping of Bratindra from the next floor up. Najima released Bri and pushed her by the chest, pivoting toward her assailant before she was tackled by Brat's stampede. His much larger size knocked Najima off her feet, and backwards toward the glassless window.

Her hands reached out to both sides, and the tips of her fingers barely caught the edges of the window. Her head was suspended above the town, a very long drop to the ground out of the window. With a rush of adrenaline, she kicked wildly with her legs, and caught Brat. After his weight fell away from her, she pulled herself desperately back into the room.

No sooner was she safely in the room did Brat land a solid punch against her already cut brow. The added pain to her already weak head made her yelp in pain, and only a instinctual reaction to throw her arms out and cover her face saved her from taking another punch.

Brat raised his dominant hand again, and spotting a weakness in his stance, Najima kicked his leg from underneath him, until his heavy body rolled on top of her. The two struggled as Bri hollered at them to stop.

The two rolled away from each other, and Najima was the first back to her feet. She threw a kick to Brat, but he grabbed it, pulling at her leg. Najima lost her balance and landed flat on her back. She cursed herself for attacking the same way as before, and she coughed for breath, winded by the fall. Najima tried to roll away, but Brat kicked her in the side, forcing what little breath she had left to exit her lungs.

In her coughing fit, Brat sat on Najima's chest, his legs resting on Najima's arms and pinning her squarely to the ground. With his free hand, he produced Najima's plasma dagger from his pocket, and engaged it. It's pink colour hummed in front of Najima. "We knew we shouldn't have left you with Annapurna," Brat said between deep breaths. "She's always been sodding weak. But Otto gets me now. He knows if we want to really teach the bloody Empire a lesson, we have to hit them where it hurts. Make them feel our pain. An eye for an eye. If they suffer like they've made me suffer, by stars, they'll know exactly what they're up against."

"Brat, it's over," Najima said, blinking away blood that trickled toward her eye. "Just stop." But Brat wrung his free hand around Najima's neck, choking her as he moved the dagger centimeters away from her face. One touch and her eye would be seared into nothingness.

"I told you to back off. This is my group, and this is my mission. And you try to trick my Brishti with your little speech? I don't bloody think so."

"Najima, hold your breath!"

Najima did not question Brishti's voice. She took one final choked breath as Bratindra looked away from her, the plasma dagger still in his hand. In his befuddlement, Bri threw the Ninde directly in his face. The small ball popped like a balloon, powder scattering in the air and across his face. Najima felt the weight of Brat's heavy body lift off her as he tumbled backwards, her dagger clattering along the ground, the fiery plasma disengaging with the drop.

Brat began screaming and sweeping at his eyes with his sleeves. Najima refused to move or open her eyes, and after only moments of struggle, she heard a heavy thump.

"Don't breathe. Don't open your eyes. Hold on." Najima did as she was told, her lungs already strained for air, until a splash of water hit her in the face. She almost let out a scream, but held it in as she felt Bri over her, and felt the cloth of Bri shirt scrubbing at her face before she pushed the cloth against Najima's mouth and nose. "Okay, breathe."

Najima's eyes opened all at once and she took the deepest breath she could manage through the cloth. Her hungry lungs worked desperately to recover until Bri removed the cloth, and Najima breathed freely again. "How do you feel? Woozy at all? Can you move?"

Before she moved, Najima mumbled that she was fine, as she looked up at Bri, who stared with unblinking eyes back at her, using the hem of her shirt as if she were trying to polish Najima's face. But when Najima made an attempt to sit up, she felt her brain dance a conga in her skull. It was almost as if her vision took a summersault, and feebly she let her head lie back down.

"Maybe a little woozy."

"Some of the chemical got in your open cut," Bri said, pouring more water onto it. "Not much though. You should be okay in a few minutes."

But Najima forced herself onto her hands to sit up straight despite Bri's efforts to sit her back down, and despite the enormous effort it took to move her lethargic body. Brat laid in a slump off to the side, yellow powder covering his face. "He'll probably sleep for three days," Bri said. "But he'll be okay as long as we get him some water."

"As far as boyfriends go," Najima said, leaning over to his body and recovering her daggers, "he's just a little crazy."

"I'm sorry. He's stupid, I know." Once Najima tested her daggers to make sure both were working - seeing both light up magenta comforted her - she began to pick herself up off the ground, but only with the help of Bri who fought against her. "No, Najima, you can't move. You have to let your body dilute the chemical."

"This is about Otto. I've got to get to him." With some struggle, Najima stood to her feet. She wiggled her body a little to make her heart beat faster, which seemed to regain some of her senses, although all of her limbs felt rubbery and unwieldy. After a few uneasy steps, however, she regained her equilibrium and began to walk more normally. Priya entered the room, suddenly flooding the two with questions.

"It's just Ninde, Priya," Bri replied. "He's fine."

"We have a bigger problem," he said, pointing to the tablet in his hand. "CP are looking for us. It's like they know what we're trying to do."

"It's part of the plan," Najima said, throwing a wobbly arm around his shoulder. "You two, I need you to get Brat and get back into the Trogan. Then, Priya, call Annapurna back at the hideout, and tell her to start the engines on the Hayagriva."

"What plan are you talking about?"

"Just do what I tell you, you two. I'm going to make this work." Bri and Priya exchanged worried looks, but with some reluctance, Priya lumbered to Brat and began lifting his heavy friend as best he could.

"What is going on, Najima? And why are you telling us to run?" Bri asked.

"Just because you all have the stupidest plans ever doesn't mean I don't think you all could do some good. Just go to the Trogan, call Anna, and be ready to drive. I'll handle the rest."

Bri wrapped her arms around Najima, and Najima did her best to return the hug with her stiff muscles. "Try to make sure Otto doesn't act this stupid ever again, please? I don't need any more Ninde thrown around by me while trying to save me from all of that," she said with a waggle of her arm toward Brat's limp body.

Bri apologized again, and hurried to help Priya with Brat's body as sirens grew louder from outside. Najima slowly made her way to the stairs and ascended them. By the time she had reached the top floor of the minaret, she had gained much of her mobility back, and exited out into the bright desert sun.

∞∞∞

"I knew you would come," Otto's gruff voice said. He was facing the staircase. "That's what I get for leaving you behind with Annapurna, I guess."

Najima stepped out into the top floor of the minaret, open to the air, with no walls. The height allowed them to look upon the entire region. The town surrounded them far below, and the the desert surrounded the town. Even from this height, she could see the tall mesas of Otto's base far in the distance. Above their heads was an assortment of equipment, eons old, completely unuseable due to lack of knowledge for ancient tools, and countless millennia of looting and vandalism. This once great marvel now stood as a lookout for a villain, who now looked upon Najima.

"Too scared to come fight me yourself?"

"I'm just waiting for the beginning of the future," Otto said somewhere between defiance and sarcasm. "Brat heard some noise downstairs - wanted to make sure it wasn't you. I don't think he likes you much."

"I've had the same feeling about you lately," Najima replied, producing her daggers but not lighting them.

"You're too late Najima. Fighting me will do you no good." Despite Otto having his assault rifle slung over his shoulder, he produced a weapon from a holster along his leg: Najima's own pistol. He spun it gleefully on his finger. "My bomb is designed to explode on its own. Priya's not in charge this time. Fate is. And those responsible will be consumed by that fate."

"You've lost touch, Otto. These people did nothing to you!"

"The Empire destroyed everything I knew for the sake of their own greed and power. These Imperials did everything to me."

"Just because the people of this town are Imperial doesn't mean they are the ones who hurt you!"

Otto laughed, although there was no humour in his tone. "Says the Imperial girl who drew her daggers on me."

"I'm on the side of the people. Like you should be, Otto!"

"I'm on the side of freedom and justice. Nothing more."

"Killing innocents is not justice."

Otto aimed the pistol at Najima and she activated her daggers, one to each hand, taking her fighting stance. "The Empire killed my family," Otto said. "They killed my friends, my fellow soldiers, and every dream we stood for as a nation. They murdered everyone I knew, and they did it in the name of justice. It's about time someone shows them how justice feels."

The light came before the noise.

A bright billow of fire and smoke rose from the streets near the bazaar, and a deafening blast shook the ground. The explosion was immense, sending off the sounds of crunching metal and screams audible even from the distance they stood.

"If you killed someone's family and friends right now, what would make you any different from the Empire?"

"It doesn't matter," Otto said, lowering Najima's pistol and turning toward the remainder of the explosion and the increasing rise of sirens around the city. "It's done. And they'll know that Otto al-Kara is a name to remember, because they will pay for what they did to Rangpur."

"They'll remember you for blowing up a city-street, and nothing more."

Otto turned toward Najima hesitantly. "What are you talking about?"

"Where are the people in the streets, Otto? Where are all the people gathering for the parade?" It somehow didn't occur to Otto that there was a problem, and he turned to look at the town. The once busy streets, the busy bazaar, were filled with rescue vehicles and authorities. But no people. No civilians, no parade. Just a small bit of fiery destruction.

"What did you do?!" he yelled, re-aiming Najima's gun.

"I met someone before I ran into your group. It was the good fortune that he was the the mayor. One of the people at your parade, that you were trying to kill," she said with a point toward the destruction. "I went the bazaar before coming here. Started screaming and pushing my way to the front of the crowd. I told them your plan, and that they needed to evacuate the parade route. Of course, they didn't believe me - they had just seen my face all over the Stream helping you steal explosives from those security cameras. The mayor was ready to have me arrested on the spot.

"Turns out helping people helped me. Many of the people in the crowd recognized me when we broke into the food stores. They shouted out, told them not to arrest me." Najima thought of the crowd. She saw all the faces asking CP to stop. She even saw the little girl screaming from a corner of the crowd.

"CP didn't believe me until a certain woman stepped out of the crowd in my defense."

"You didn't..." Otto mumbled in disbelief.

"That woman from the alley. I knew I recognized something about her, or at least her jewelry. I delivered her necklace to her - that was the mayor's wife. And if she didn't recognize me from the night before, when I saved her life from you, none of them would have believed me. But right now, there was nobody near the Doyel you blew up. They all evacuated before I came here."

"What have you done?" he said, as he looked back at the black smoke from the explosion. The sirens were growing ever louder.

"You brought this on yourself, Otto."

Najima still felt stiff from the Ninde, but had enough speed to dive aside as Otto spun around and fired several shots at her. She slung her left dagger like a boomerang at Otto, and he dove out of the way, the dagger flying off the side of the building. His sudden roll made him lose a handle on the gun long enough for Najima to race toward him, and although he pulled off another errant shot, Najima was able to kick her pistol from his hand.

But her mobility failed her as Otto used his free left hand to sling a punch straight to Najima's gut. She tumbled backwards off her balance, and had to roll away as Otto dropped his heavy boot at her. Najima was able to recover to her feet as Otto produced and cocked his rifle. She lurched out and grabbed at the center of his rifle as he held down the trigger, violent gunshots firing in the air, bullets ricocheting off the equipment above on the roof of the minaret. They struggled over the weapon until the majority of the magazine was fired, and Otto pushed the gun into Najima's face, knocking her back, and onto the ground.

Otto aimed the gun at Najima as she slung her remaining dagger at him. It caught him along the shoulder, and sent him into a fit of screaming, as he shot the remainder of his bullets wildly while the dagger slid off the side of the building. His pain allowed Najima enough time to kick his shin, and then throw her body at him, knocking him backwards with the tackle. The momentum almost sent both of them tumbling off the side of the of the minaret.

But Najima was still wobbly from the Ninde. She rolled further than Otto, could not gain her balance, and fell off the edge, before clutching the engraved outer wall of the minaret. Her feet found a footing, but it was very weak. Otto rose once more and approached her at the edge, looking down at Najima.

"You've ruined this. Now who has brought things upon themselves, Najima Dezetoiles?"

But his attention quickly changed direction as an aerial vehicle came for a pass by the minaret. It's large anti-gravity engines buzzed much louder than the average Doyel or Trogan, and it hovered around to face the minaret.

"This is Civil Protection," it called over its speakers, "Otto al-Kara, you are under arrest for acts against the Empire. Surrender immediately."

Otto recovered his rifle as he stared down at Najima struggling for a grip, the burn along his shoulder turning a bright, bloody red. "I could have done more than you know, Najima."

"There's a reason," Najima replied, still dangling from the edge of the building, "That I didn't come with CP officers. I could have told them you were here. I told them to evacuate people instead." Otto's face looked baffled as Najima finally scraped her way up the side of the minaret.

"Put down the weapon, al-Kara, or we'll be forced to shoot."

"You did it to what?" he asked her. "To help me? You expect me to run?"

Najima was out of breath, but looked up at him, desperate to cling to the side. "And live to fight another day. Or get locked up, your choice. But if you do run, no more public bombings. Or next time I won't be so nice."

"Who are you?" Otto asked in astonishment.

"Someone who wants you to do good. Don't mess it up. Besides, I thought you liked running. I heard the Hayagriva was pretty fast."

Otto stared at her as the aircraft gave a final warning. Without a second's thought, Otto reloaded his gun's magazine. "Maybe you'll see me on the Stream one day."

"I'll remember the name."

"I know you will," Otto said in that magnetic voice.

With that, Otto al-Kara, the rebel from Rangpur, raised his gun and shot at the cockpit of the Civil Protection aircraft. TUHTUHTUHTUH! The bullets cracked at the tough window of the vehicle, meant to withstand energy weapons over ballistics. It took evasive action to dodge the fire, and in its movement, Otto raced down the staircase of the minaret.

Still woozy from all the exertion, Najima crawled her way to the edge of the minaret as the vehicle hovered around the structure. After less than a minute, Otto appeared from the entrance on the ground floor, shooting wildly up at the CP vehicle. It only began returning fire from its high powered laser as the engines of the Trogan lit aflame, and the vehicle shot down the streets, weaving until it passed the outskirts of the small town, until it was a speck on the landscape, with Civil Protection aircraft desperately trying to keep up.

∞∞∞

This is International Galactic News. These are headlines from around the galaxy. Our first report centers on a small desert town on the planet of Nanda IV. Sources tell us the town was thrown into chaos by the attack of the notorious anti-Imperial terrorist, Otto al-Kara of Rangpur, who attempted to destroy a public gathering with a destructive improvised explosive, seen from afar here in amateur video taken from the scene.

Although the bomb was set off, an unnamed source aided Civil Protection in evacuating the area, and saving countless lives before the explosion. Officials tell us that the otherwise small town was targeted due to a parade celebrating many local and regional government officials.

The civil protection commissioner looked much taller than in real life when on the Stream. He appeared on the screen that Najima was watching.

When asked on the whereabouts of the infamous terrorists identified in the attack, we were told: "Although our officers pursued the terrorists far into the countryside, they evaded by entering a mesa complex on the outskirts of town, where they had been using a bunker from the Independence War as a hideout. They then used a spaceship to clear the planet. We are saddened to say that these terrorists are still at large. No further comment."

Nanda's central intelligence bureau for civic affairs have stated that the lack of interstellar Imperial Navy ships on the border towns led to the hasty escape of the fugitives. They intend to file a national suit in the Supreme Court within the coming months to argue for increased naval security along the Dravidian-Vengali border to safeguard against terrorist run-off from Vengali space.

Najima turned her attention from the Stream screen on the tablet she had been given when the commissioner and the mayor returned into the interrogation room of the Civil Protection headquarters in town, midway through an argument. "It's regulation, saar," the commissioner said. "I could be fired for breaking protocol."

"This young girl saved our town. Exceptions will be made!" she the mayor, in his deep accent.

"Anything I can help you with?" Najima asked. Her head still ached where it had been bandaged, and her skin tingled where the doctors glopped a salve known as Amrita, a medical gel that worked wonders at healing basic wounds, on her largest cut.

"I'm afraid I have to arrest you, Dezetoiles," the commissioner said. "You have such an unfathomable criminal history..."

"That is out of the question!" The mayor huffed. If I were caught in that explosion, protocol be damned, because I would be dead. This girl saved my life!"

"Saar, sincerely, I could lose my job."

"I'll take any consequences for this action. Besides, as we've said, she is the Dezetoiles from Sundarban."

"That's right, Saar Commissioner," Najima chimed in. "They helped a lot during the war. In fact, did you know that this very building was built on my family's land? I didn't know that until a few days ago, from the mayor in fact. "

"But, I'm sorry saar..." the commissioner interrupted, but Najima interrupted him.

"Nowwww youuu knowww," she said in elongated syllables, her arms waving dramatically with her voice.

"This is my town, and this is my responsibility," the mayor insisted. "Now, you understand, Matam Dezetoiles, that because of your... involvement... with the one al-Kara - despite your fantastic effort of community service today \- we will not be able to reward you in any way. The commissioner is right, as you do seem to have a..." the mayor struggled for words, "Healthy background. And we couldn't be seen doing business with such characters." He smiled broadly before rephrasing himself to avoid rudeness, "Not that you are a character, or that we aren't immensely grateful."

"It's fine, saar," Najima laughed, which put the mayor at ease. "I'm just happy to go. I've stayed longer than I should have."

"Saar, she is a criminal. She robbed a secure military facility, aided in the theft of kilos of Civil Protection foodstocks, and abetted known terrorists."

"I'm sure there is some administrivia you'd happily not have to perform, is there not?" the mayor said impatiently.

The commissioner stared at Najima angrily, but inevitably sighed. "You're free to go, Matam Dezetoiles. We'll have your raft's restrictions removed, and you can find it at the spaceport." The commissioner stomped out of the room, and the mayor insistently thanked Najima on behalf of the town, and his wife, and the governor, and the solar system. When the mayor finally ran out of thanks, he left the room.

Najima caught one more glance at the Stream, where pundits were talking about Otto, his picture emblazoned on the screen. She then left the room, and weaved her way through the Civil Protection offices, and back onto the streets. She took a path that led her past the destroyed bazaar, a crater where a tree once stood, and rubbish still on the streets that were being cleaned by public servants. She took the same street back toward the spaceport, hoping to see the small girl who looked like her sister. She was not there, however, her rock-skyscraper the only sign she had been there at all.

After gathering some supplies from a late-night store with what little money she had earned when she came to Nanda, Najima returned to the spaceport. The confused attendant from two days ago threw Najima an angry look. But after a silent smile and wave, he huffed, and let her pass on to her raft. She loaded her supplies, double-checked her anti-grav engine, habitat generator, and solar sails, and then lifted off the ground.

She sailed high above the town which glittered like an oasis of flickering lights in the desert, a dry wind blowing her hair the higher she rose. Soon the town vanished in a haze as Najima passed through a wet cloud, and over an hour later, the dark blue sky turned black, the brown land below bent into a curvature. She set her sails, the gravity began to lessen, until all was blackness except for the moons that orbited Nanda IV.

Setting her bearings distinctly away from Imperial territory, Najima made herself comfortable as the red sun glistening behind her, perfect for solar winds to drive her raft. She reached into her supplies and produced her journal.

Today, I met the notorious Otto al-Kara, a handsome gentleman from Rangpur who draws you in like a magnet. I also met his friends, and they taught me a lot about pride and justice. Hopefully I'll see them again one day. He said something that I hope I won't forget. I told him about how I've lost something, and he said, 'Be lucky you can find it. Some things that you lose are lost for good.'

I am lucky. In a weird way.

But let me tell how the whole adventure started...

And so it was on as Najima sailed into the depths of space.

The universe of Star Sailor is tremendous! If you want to immerse yourself and see how infinite space is, sail over to: http://star-sailor.com

A few things before we go.

Star Sailor is as independent as it gets. But that means if you want to see more episodes, and continue the story, the story needs your support! If you want to help out, here are a few things you can do.

1: **Sign up for the mailing list!** When new stuff happens, we'll send you a quick email to bring you up to speed. This way, when a new episode of Star Sailor debuts, you won't miss it! Emails will be reserved almost exclusively for new episode debuts, so we won't spam you, promise. Sign up for the list here! <http://www.star-sailor.com/p/mailing-list.html>

2: **Review this story** from the page you downloaded it at! The more reviews the story gets, the more visible it will be to other readers.

3. **Check out the official website!** We have a cool resource of material that didn't fit in the story. That includes the history of the Republic of Rangpur, a short biographical history of Otto al-Kara, and so much more. See it here. http://star-sailor.com

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Thank you for all your support. I seriously can't handle how awesome everyone has been. There will be more to come. Take care...

Alvida.
