From the second floor of his tall marble tower, King Aramis gazed down at the courtyard, hands clasped loosely behind his back. He could see Princess Valana, seated in her usual place at the fountain, staring into the swirling waters and twirling her golden hair loosely. Three young men, dressed in noble's finery, hovered around her like buzzing insects, chattering away and seeming not to notice her lack of interest.
Another round of failures, thought the king sadly. Three more self-absorbed peacocks calling themselves princes, none of them really worthy of his daughter anyway, even had they offered much in the way of dowry. They were little more than long shots, after all. Valana was right to reject them, as she was not-so-subtly doing even at this moment.
Still, the problem remained. Valana was his sixth and final daughter, the last born to the dearly departed Queen Shylu, who passed on (under mysterious circumstances) just two decades past. Mysterious circumstances indeed, but that was what happens to those who try to poison their king. Such was the way of politics in the Sapphire Cluster.
Over a hundred worlds, tightly packed in a tiny pocket of space, under so many stars that the night sky was barely dimmer than the day. Each planet its own little kingdom, each struggling for dominance, with alliances and enemies that seemed to change with each swift rotation about the Cluster's shimmering azure core. To King Aramis, his daughter was not just a child he loved, but also a bargaining chip, a potential source of income, and the ink on a treaty that would raise his own status immensely, if he could merely find the right cosigner.
That, of course, was the trick, wasn't it? So far, the sixth daughter of an aging monarch of uncertain status wasn't drawing much interest. Still, there was always the mountainous world of Fjordin...about the same level of power as Aramis's own Tyskala, and threatened to coreward by the dangerous Mordics. Prince Norval was himself a fourth-born, not terribly near the line of succession of Fjordin, but close enough to solidify any alliance he initiated. He had already announced his intention to attend the Sapphire Star Festival in two weeks, presumably to get his first look at Princess Valana. That meeting would have to go well...
One way or another.
The King felt, rather than heard, the arrival of his Grand Advisor, Nareem. Somehow the wizened old man managed to remain able, despite his advancing years, to enter a room entirely in silence.
"Milord," said Nareem quietly, mere moments after Aramis detected the other's presence. "I see the courting is not going well."
"No," agreed the king without turning. "As usual, it is not. She rejects them almost before they even arrive."
"She is willful and stubborn," replied Nareem, barely raising his voice. Nonetheless, his words rang hollowly through the room, echoing about as if the chamber were a vast canyon.
Aramis detected the subtle tone in his advisor's voice. He could hardly fail to do so, in fact, having known Nareem his whole life. When the old man, his former mentor as a child, had something more he wished to say, he would use this particular inflection, and then wait patiently for the inevitable query to follow.
"Most of my daughters have been stubborn," remarked the king, finally turning to his advisor, who stood stooped, leaning on his staff, locks of white hair dangling like strings of twine from beneath his cowl.
"Marissa was not," pointed out Nareem. "She was all too eager to be wed. She still remains your best asset, milord. The others...well, the others vary in degrees of stubbornness and effectiveness, at a rate quite noticeably inverse in proportion to one another."
King Aramis sighed and stepped away from the window. He clenched his fingers together, feeling the ache of the beginnings of arthritis beneath his many bejeweled rings. He was getting old. Too old to take another wife, or produce any more heirs. All that remained after Valana was an empty castle. She was his last chance to produce a marriage that would settle here, on Tyskala, and produce heirs.
If only I had a son...
But there was no time for such regrets. Six daughters, then a son--that was the conventional wisdom at the time. But then came Queen Shylu's betrayal, for reasons still unclear, and that was the end of that alliance. Too late for a son, even one produced in a laboratory after the fact, as such births were considered not officially royal. That particular rule, however well deserved, was nonetheless damned inconvenient.
His advisor made a brief cough. Aramis nodded, almost to himself. "I suppose you have something you wish to say," he remarked. "Say it, then."
"Very well," replied Nareem, shuffling under his robes uncomfortably. His fingers, nearly skeletal, rubbed absently at the snow-white goatee on his chin. "Princess Valana is unsuitable for marriage at this time."
The king raised a bushy eyebrow. "Is it that bad?" he asked directly.
"I'm afraid so, milord. She's more than simply stubborn. She is accustomed to having the best of everything, a belief I'm afraid we have all encouraged, seeing as she is the last of your daughters. She is, in a world, spoiled."
"And Prince Norval, if what I have been told is correct, is anything but perfect." The king shook his head sadly. "So you believe that when the Prince comes to visit, she will simply reject him out of hand, as she does these others?" He waved a hand at the open window and the courtyard beyond. "I will have to have words with her. If it comes down to it, I can simply order her to accept his hand, should he offer it."
"He likely will not offer it, sire," said Nareem. "Remember, Fjordin is not in any immediate danger from the Mordics. King Gordin has ample time to shop around, and he may simply conclude that Tyskala is too far away or too weak to be of any help to him. Our only chance is for the Prince to propose of his own free will, and this will not happen if the Princess refuses to give him the time of day."
Aramis nodded slowly. "And this is not something I can fix simply by speaking with her--harshly, if necessary."
"She cannot be forced," replied the advisor. "This is one thing I have discovered about your daughter. The more you push something on her, the more she rejects it. She fails to respect authority, milord. Yours, mine, or anyone else's. I daresay that even should her marriage be forced upon her, she would be a terrible wife, and an even worse Queen."
"There was a time," sighed King Aramis, "when I would have had you flayed for speaking thus about my daughter. Yet, I fear I must agree with you. She has indeed been spoiled, hasn't she? And now we will pay the price for it."
"Perhaps not," put in Nareem. "There is a chance she can be salvaged, even at this late date, if you would but hear me out."
Now the aging king allowed himself to smile. Finally, the crux of the matter--the reason his advisor was here, for he would not have come without at least some sort of plan. "Go ahead, old friend," he said after a long and purposeful pause.
"She must learn," said Nareem firmly. "She must be taught a lesson even she cannot avoid learning. This is something you and I cannot teach her, nor can anyone in this kingdom. In fact, I don't think anyone in the Cluster could do so."
"Now wait just a minute--" began Aramis, already starting to realize where this conversation was going.
"Hear me out, sire, hear me out." Nareem shifted positions, still leaning on his staff but doing so from another angle. "I propose sending her out of the Cluster, into the Great Galaxy beyond. On her own, on a royal quest. This has been done before, as you are well aware. She can take one of the royal cruisers, set to full automation, per my own programming. She would not be in any real danger."
"Not in any danger!" bellowed the king. "You do realize what it's like out there, outside the Cluster, don't you? What she'd be up against?"
"I know quite well, milord. There is a risk, of course. It's entirely possible that she may not return. Much depends on who and what she meets there. Yet if you consider the alternative..."
Aramis nodded slowly and turned back to the window. Gazing down again at the courtyard, he could see the three young men had gone. The Princess was still there, drawing a single slender finger across the water in the pool, whistling softly to herself and smiling.
She was indeed lovely. Long blonde hair, lighter than any of her sisters, with a pleasant face and slim, desirable figure that the best bodycrafters in the Kingdom worked daily to perfect. She would make a fine wife, if only she cared to be.
In his mind's eye, the king realized what would happen if something wasn't done. She would refuse Prince Norval, and every other prince, demanding perfection that would never come. She would never marry, instead draining the Kingdom's resources, drawing no dowry...in other words, she would be useless.
Worse still, she would never be happy. Despite thinking of his daughter as something of a commodity, he also loved her in his own way. Picturing her as an old maid, growing wrinkled and gray in some dusty corner tower, made his heart ache. That was no way to live her life.
But could he let her go, out of the Cluster and into the Galaxy, where the great Solarian Empire was in control? Where everything was so vastly different? What if they didn't honor the Protectorate Pact? What would become of Valana then? Could he live with himself knowing she was in the hands of one of them...?
Now he understood. That's what Grand Advisor Nareem was really suggesting, wasn't it? This wasn't about a lesson--it was about giving the Princess a choice.
Slowly he nodded. "I see," said the king softly. "Do what you must, Nareem, and may the gods fly with her on the morrow."
Lady Valana, Princess of the Soverign Kingdom of Tyskala, was displeased. This wasn't how she wanted to be spending the week before the Sapphire Star Festival. She was supposed to be choosing dresses, practicing dancing, sampling hairstyles...not riding on some star cruiser out into the Great Galaxy!
Curse that High Advisor, anyway! How dare he send her on a quest like this, when the Festival was coming up! He did it on purpose, she knew. This was some kind of punishment, wasn't it? Still, she couldn't think of what she'd done to deserve this, no matter how hard she tried. She hadn't done anything wrong.
It was all so unfair!
Two days on the ship so far, all by herself. She was already getting bored! There were only so many vids and holos she could use, only so many times she could use the simroom to design new outfits or change her hair. Besides, it wasn't the same without her attendants or the servants to tell her how good her creations were. The ship's computer was dull and mechanical, without a trace of good taste anywhere in its circuits.
She hated being alone.
At first she didn't want to get on the ship. He couldn't force her, she insisted, and she could do what she wanted. Besides, if her father knew what Nareem was planning, he'd put a stop to it! But then the King arrived, answering her summons, and insisted she do whatever the old man asked. Think of it as a vacation, he insisted. So why was he crying when she finally threw up her arms and stormed angrily up the ramp? Probably because of that slap to his face, not that he hadn't deserved it.
He was going to make her get married, wasn't he? Valana was pretty sure of that. She'd managed to avoid it long enough, but now, that business with Fjordin was the talk of the kingdom, and the rumors were flying. There was little doubt in her mind her father would insist she marry one of the Princes coming to the festival. All the more reason to be back at the castle, preparing for the grand event! Not that she intended to accept any proposals, of course.
Valana had met dozens of princes and other hopefuls, all of them eager to secure their alliance with Tyskala, and all of them completely worthless in her eyes. She wasn't just a piece of jewelry to be handed out like some kind of reward. She was a person, a woman with feelings, and she wanted to make her own choices. She should be able to pick her own husband, pure and simple. The Kingdom be damned!
She was sure that's what this whole quest business was about. She'd been sent out of the Cluster while her father and his busybody advisor planned her marriage for her. They figured she'd waste her time hunting for some magic beans until the time ran out and she had to go home in failure, and then, they'd tell her she had to get married, and that was just the way things were.
Well, thought Valana, we'll just see about that! She could simply refuse--they couldn't make her get married, after all. Could they...?
Maybe they could...
A chill raced across her alabaster skin and she clutched at the crimson robe she wore, shuddering. What if they could? Turning, she accessed the nearby computer panel, calling up the online files, including the laws of the Kingdom. Anxiously she searched, looking for something, anything that would tell her she was safe.
After a few minutes she gave up. The laws didn't say anything about forced marriages, either for or against. She had no way of knowing, then. What if she got home and the marriage had already been arranged? Was that why she was out here, then, to make that all possible in her absence?
The Festival was in a few days, Valana realized. She had that long to find what she was looking for out here. The ship's computer, according to Nareem, wouldn't allow her to set a course for home until it detected the proper substance in the cargo bay. Some kind of magic bean that could be distilled into a potent elixir, or so the explanation went. Not that she was paying too much attention at the time, seeing as she was so angry and all.
There was a warning ping from the computer. Valana glanced over and saw the proximity alert flashing. Nothing special--she'd already ignored a number of similar alarms. Her ship was, after all, presently flying through the middle one of the Solarian Empire's shipping lanes. Until now, though, she'd had no interest in actually approaching any of the ships detected by the sensors.
Well, she thought with some determination, it's time for that to change.
The console beeped. Captain Adam Grames sighed, sticking his head out of the allview vidscreen, blinking to adjust to the dim cabin light. Sure, he thought wryly, as soon as things start getting good...
There wasn't much to do on an automated freighter making a standard weekly mail run deep in Solarian space, far from the Empire's frontiers, so as a matter of course he occupied himself with the occasional holoporn. Nothing wrong with that, especially for a twenty-six cycle old male like himself, still four years off his first rejuv. If only he could sneak a real woman onto the ship, instead of vids or an expensive sexbot rental! There was no way, of course. The company scans were pretty thorough, and besides, if he somehow managed it and got caught, that would be the end of his otherwise enjoyable and quite cushy job.
Still, somehow the computer always knew to interrupt him right in the middle of the juicier parts of whatever entertainment he was experiencing. Just accidental, he was sure. Wiping a faint line of sweat from his face, and scratching at a half-day's growth of black stubble on his cheek, he stepped over to the console to check the warning.
Prox alert, apparently. Some piece of space trash, no doubt, tumbling through the shipping lanes, probably a danger to navigation. Good...a little target practice before he got back to business.
Pulling on his worksuit, he ran a hand back through his dark brown hair, stretched, and made his way to the bridge. The freighter's interior was rather cramped, but it didn't really matter much seeing as there were no passengers and he was the only person on the crew. In fact, he really was only barely needed at all. Sometimes, during these weeklong mail runs between the sector jump points, he'd never have to lift a finger. At least this was a break from the routine.
Reaching the bridge, he settled into the swiveling chair and called up the scan of whatever the object was. Something about the size of a shuttle, it appeared, and shaped like one too. Aha, even better! Maybe it was salvage--he got a cut of any useful stuff he managed to collect, not that such things came along very often. There were pirate attacks occasionally, from raiders that managed to slip past the jump patrols, and every now and then a piece of one ship or another might meander around the shipping lanes until some opportunist like himself collected it.
He checked the scans more carefully. The shuttle, or whatever it was, seemed to be neatly paralleling his course. That raised a little red flag in his mind. If it was on the exact same course, it couldn't have just drifted there without some sort of thrust involved. So that meant it wasn't just space debris.
Now a little concerned, Adam reached up and activated the ship's defense array and started charging the energy web. Not that a single shuttle was much of a threat, but it might be a harbinger for something much larger.
Almost in response, the computer lit up with another warning. His ship was being scanned, it seemed. Pretty powerful scanning beams, too, coming from a mere shuttle. He frowned, rubbing absently at the rough whiskers on his rugged face. The chance that this was a simple Solarian shuttlecraft was beginning to decline rapidly.
There was another beep and he glanced to another console. There was a communication beam focused on his ship now. Someone over there wanted to talk to him, apparently.
Adam took a deep breath. His heart was racing, he realized, and he tried to force himself to become calm. So much for a simple mail run! Who was this, and what did they want? Well, there was only one way to find out.
He threw the switch. Immediately, one of his screens flickered to life. To his surprise, he saw a woman's face there--a gorgeous woman, with long blonde hair, a terrific smile, and sparkling green eyes that almost seemed to jump right out of the display. He couldn't see the rest of her, below her slender neck, but he hoped it looked as good as that amazing face.
Then she opened that perfect mouth and spoke, in a pleasant, mellifluous tone, without any sense of urgency at all. "Greetings," she said coolly, "I am Princess Valana of the Sovereign Kingdom of Tyskala. May I ask who has the honor of addressing me?"
Adam blinked, not quite sure what to make of this. A princess? On a shuttle? And what was the Kingdom of Tiskwhatever, anyway? He'd never heard of such a place. "Uh, well, my name's Adam," he replied after a moment, absently dropping into the typical response he'd been trained to give whenever hailed. "Captain Adam Grames, of the small freighter New Portsmouth, three days out of Sargeron, bound for Gate T-36 with a load of mail and miscellaneous cargo."
"A simple freighter," said Valana, almost to herself. "Excellent. Perfect for my purposes. Captain Grames, I'm afraid I'm taking control of your vessel. Please don't resist--I have a dozen weapons trained on your ship at this moment. You look like a decent enough guy, and I'd hate to have to kill you."
"Wait--you're what?" Adam sputtered. "You're a pirate and you're taking over my ship, is that it?"
"Basically," agreed Valana with a shrug. "Well, I'm not really a pirate, and I'm on a quest, so I can't let anything get in my way. But that's none of your concern, now, is it? You're just a commoner, after all, and I'm a princess, so you really must do as I say. Now open your hangar so I can come aboard. Don't make me blast my own hole so I can get in the hard way!"
Adam stared at the screen for a moment before realizing his mouth was hanging open, whereupon he shut it with an audible clack. Was this woman serious? She was cute and all, but she didn't sound like a pirate. In fact, this whole thing sounded like some sort of colossal prank.
Yeah, that's it, he thought to himself. This is all a prank! Someone in the company was pulling a joke on him. What other explanation could there be? That little shuttlecraft couldn't have more than a single simple beam weapon on it, and that wouldn't be enough to pierce his meteor shields, much less his fully charged energy web. Besides which, a single blast from one of his defense grid's four rotating turrets would be enough to finish off that puny lifeboat out there.
"I can see you don't believe me," said the princess after a moment. "Oh, I know what you're thinking! Look at that tiny little ship, it can't possibly be a threat, can it? Here, let me show you what you're dealing with."
Her image shifted to the side for an instant, giving him a view of the back of a fairly expansive bridge. Then, with a sudden flash, his ship shuddered underneath him. Instantly several alarms went off--one of them the meteor shield warning, showing that it had collapsed. There wasn't any hull damage, apparently, but whatever hurt him was more than just a simple beam weapon!
"That was ten percent power," said Valana, returning to the view with a big grin spread across her pretty face. "I could've done more than just drop your little shield, if I wanted. And don't try training those guns of yours on me, or I'll shoot them first! Just do as I command, Captain, and I assure you I'll let you go on your way."
Adam considered his options. Whether this was a trick or not was still in doubt, but she had dropped his shield with one salvo. He still had the energy web, of course, which wasn't yet active, but he might not have time for it to spool up before she fired again. The computer confirmed the blast came from the shuttle, not some other ship somewhere else. So if the company really wanted to pull one over on him, it was really going out of its way to do so.
So what if it wasn't a joke? What if there really were pirates on that shuttle? Was this some kind of bluff so they could get aboard and steal the ship? What if that shot was all they had? If he let them aboard, and they got away, he'd be the laughing stock of the sector!
On the other hand, this could be a legitimate threat. Was his pride worth his life? The ship and its cargo were insured, after all. The usual response, when threatened with piracy, was to surrender and let them take what they wanted. That was the company line, after all. He could hardly be blamed for obeying their rules. There was nothing to be gained by being the hero.
"Well, Captain?" demanded Valana after a moment. "What is it to be? Will you let me aboard peacefully, or must I punish your rickety old ship still further?"
Adam nodded, ignoring her condescending tone. He did still have the anti-hijacking hardware, and some other tricks up his sleeve, if things went badly. Plus, if he wanted to, he could always hop in the escape pod and flee.
"Very well," he agreed after a moment. "I'm opening up the shuttle bay. Feel free to come aboard."
Valana smiled again. "Good choice, Captain," she said cheerfully. "I'll be along shortly. See you there!"
Nervously, Adam waited at the bay doors, watching the pressurization level as it steadily rose towards acceptable levels. Through the plexsteel he could see the shuttle in the center of the pad. The vehicle was relatively small, about ten meters long, and only about as tall as himself. More of a sled than a shuttle, Adam thought. Definitely advanced, probably long-range capable, he realized with a nod. And definitely not built anywhere in the Solarian Empire. In fact, it didn't look like any design he was familiar with. The level of detail on its surface was incredible.
Idly, he wondered what was going to happen when the atmosphere finished pumping in. Would doors open, disgorging a platoon of pirates? Or would she be the only one to come out? What did the rest of her look like, anyway? She certainly seemed attractive enough, except for that holier-than-thou attitude. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could--
Yeah, that would be nice, he reminded himself, except that she thought he was her prisoner, so what would that say about him? Although, he considered briefly, that might be sort of kinky...
Nah, he wasn't into that sort of thing. At least, not from that particular angle. He had always preferred to be on top. The other way just wouldn't do.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bay finished pressurizing. With a final check of the gun in the holster at his waist, and the hidden one in his boot, he opened the seal and stepped inside. The shuttle waited silently, showing no signs of life.
Cautiously, almost gingerly, he approached closer, keeping a hand near his weapon. The shuttle or sled or whatever it was seemed almost impossibly intricate. The detail on its surface was amazingly complex. Gazing closer, he noticed an emblem on the front, the size of a small stamp. Some sort of logo--a golden crown atop a purple sun. Underneath it, painted in tiny letters, were the words "Kingdom of Tyskala."
Looking closer, he could now see a number of what were obviously weapons, some mounted on little turrets. Even as he moved, these swiveled ever so slightly to follow him. Now he realized how foolish he was to step into the bay, unprotected, but of course it was too late to do anything about that.
Suddenly he heard something behind him, a kind of soft humming that wasn't there before. Reflexively he started to draw his weapon, only to hear a woman's voice speak quickly, sounding far away, but clearly amplified. "I wouldn't do that," she said with confidence. "Like I said before, Captain, I'd hate to have to shoot you."
Adam raised his hand and slowly turned. What he saw took him completely by surprise. He could hardly be blamed, though, for who could've expected to see a six-inch blonde woman, dressed in body armor and holding a combat rifle, hovering in the air just a few meters away?
Valana giggled to herself for several seconds, as Adam stood there dumbfounded. Finally she managed to contain her mirth. "Oh, that was so worth it!" she laughed. "Coming all the way out here, stuck away from home, and all of it, it was worth it to see the look on your face just then! Too bad I didn't think to vidcap it, darn it all."
"Who--who are you?" gasped Adam after recovering his breath. He hardly believed what he was seeing. "How did you get so small? Maybe your ship hit a, um, space warp that left you like that? Some sort of wormhole that, uh, compressed you, maybe?"
"No, no, silly man!" chuckled Valana heartily. "I told you, I'm from the Kingdom of Tyskala! Don't you know where that is? It's in the Sapphire Star Cluster!"
Adam shook his head, still staring in slack-jawed shock at this miniature woman, barely noticing the trim weapon in her tiny hands. "I don't know what that is," he finally admitted.
"Oh, they don't tell you commoners anything, do they?" sighed Valana, leaning forward slightly. The humming noise intensified as she glided slowly around him, moving smoothly with some sort of antigrav device. "The Cluster is so tightly packed with stars that all our planets are much smaller than yours. That's why we're this size and you Solarians are all giants! Are you getting all this or do I have to explain it like you're a child?"
"No, no, I get it," said Adam hurriedly. Planets where people were the size of dolls...? Well, he'd never heard of any such thing, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. In fact, clearly they must, or he wouldn't be having this conversation, now would he?
She could be a robot, or some sort of holo, he considered briefly, but that seemed just as unlikely as her explanation. So if she was real, what did she want? His ship, obviously, or something it was carrying. That made a certain amount of sense--anything he had aboard would be gigantic in comparison to her and her people, and therefore all that much more valuable.
"Okay then," she replied, keeping her weapon trained on him carefully, "I'm glad you understand, not that it matters. Now I see you thought to come to meet me armed, which isn't terribly friendly of you. Yes, yes, I brought a gun too, but then I'm the one who captured you, not the other way around, so why should you get to have a gun? Now go ahead and toss that thing away, if you'd be so kind, not that you could ever hit me with it anyway."
As if to punctuate those words, she suddenly darted back and forth, up and down, and side to side so quickly Adam almost lost sight of her. Just as swiftly, she stopped moving, gun pointed squarely at his chest.
"Okay, okay, I get it," he replied, tossing his weapon away. The pistol clattered off the deck and bounced up next to a cargo pallet.
"And the other one," she went on, pointing quickly in the general direction of his right foot. "This suit of mine has energy sensors. I came prepared, you see."
Adam rolled his eyes and divested himself of the holdout pistol as well, throwing it in the same general location on the deck. "Okay, you've got me," he said with a sigh. "I'm your prisoner, I guess. What do you want?"
"That's none of your business," she replied haughtily. "I'm on a quest for something very specific and you don't need to know what it is. My suit's sensors will let me know when I detect it, and when I do, you'll load it on my ship. After that, we'll see what happens, won't we?"
She hovered a bit more closely to him, and he could see now she really was as good-looking as she was on the screen. Her hair was long and seemed very carefully made up, so that it sort of cascaded down about her armor-clad shoulders like an amber waterfall. Though small, her features looked chiseled and her visage was indeed quite regal. He had little doubt she really was a princess.
Of course, he couldn't see the rest of her thanks to the armor, but she certainly seemed curvaceous enough, judging by the fit and shape of her protective gear, and she definitely moved with a lithe sort of grace. She seemed totally at home hovering in the air before him, the antigrav device, wherever it was, softly humming.
There was a long pause. Finally, she frowned and put her free hand on her hip. "What are you staring at, peon?" she demanded.
"What? Oh, sorry," stammered Adam. "Sorry, I never saw anyone so--so small before," he managed.
"Well, stop it," she insisted, a little bit red-faced herself. Apparently she too had been staring, but she quickly moved to cover up that fact. "I never saw anyone as big as you either! And you need a shave, too! Do you always meet your guests without observing proper decorum? Why, the nerve!"
"Sorry," he replied a bit hastily, "I wasn't expecting to have my ship invaded this particular afternoon."
"I informed you that I was a princess when I first spoke to you," she insisted. "You should've immediately dressed and cleaned yourself before coming to meet me! Such an insolent clod." She zipped away, tossing her hair irately. "No matter. You are my prisoner, so I suppose I shouldn't expect any respect from such as you. My scan of this crude chamber is complete, so now you will show me the rest of your ship. For your sake, I hope you have what I'm looking for."
"The rest of my ship?" he replied worriedly. "All of it?"
"Yes, of course, all of it!" Valana demanded. "Now move! I'm in a hurry, you know. I have an event to get back to, not that you'd be interested."
"Not really," he agreed, stepping over to the door and toggling the switch. The portal slid open and he stepped through, the tiny princess following quickly, darting around behind him like a miniature human hummingbird.
"It's a festival," she went on, not caring if he was listening. She continued to prattle on even as he led her through the narrow (to him) confines of the freighter. "The Sapphire Star Festival! A celebration of the annual rising of the great star that occupies the center of the Cluster, and the start of the growing season, which I suppose is something you common folk would be interested in. Anyway, my father has invited another kingdom's royalty to visit, and I expect one of their princes to announce his intention as a suitor for my hand. What do you think of that?"
"Me?" he shrugged, starting to become a little irritated by her constant insinuation that he was some kind of lower class citizen in comparison to her. "I don't know why my opinion would matter to a high-and-mighty princess like you," he said with undisguised bitterness.
"Oh, it doesn't, I assure you," she laughed in that tiny, tinkling voice of hers, amplified by something in her armored suit. "I'm just practicing making conversation. There will be plenty of that during the Festival, and since I'm alone on my ship, you're the only one I have to talk to at the moment."
"That must be terrible, being alone like that," suggested Adam, sensing a possible opportunity. "I'm stuck here alone too, you know, and these mail runs take forever."
"Then I'm sure my arrival must be the best thing that ever happened to you," said Valana enthusiastically, again tossing her head and adopting a smug expression. "Think of the stories you can tell your fellow freighter people! You met a real princess! How many of them have had this same opportunity, hmm? Not very many, I'd expect. Why, you should be thanking me, Captain. This is your lucky day!"
"Oh, yeah, lucky me," groused Adam, getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Her attitude was infuriating, and the fact that she was one-twelfth his size, yet had taken him prisoner, was driving him crazy. "If only I could be captured by tiny princesses every week, my life would be complete!"
"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Captain," chuckled the little figure from next to his right ear. "You really are quite fortunate. I'm not an evil or vindictive person, after all. As soon as I have what I want, you'll be released. I have no need for your primitive ship or any of your ancient technology."
"Then what is it you want?" he insisted. "What's so important that you have to invade my ship and hold me at gunpoint?"
"If I find it, I'll tell you," she replied, "otherwise I don't want you warning any of your fellow freighter-folk what I'm after. I was told most of your ships carried the substance, but I still haven't detected any, either. Is this your entire ship?"
"Pretty much," he replied with as much honesty as he could muster.
"I didn't see anything that looked like a bridge," she snapped. "And what about that door there? Open it at once!"
Adam sighed in apparent defeat and made his way to the last bulkhead, which did in fact lead to the bridge. The door slid open at his touch and he stepped inside, amidst the clutter of his command center. Despite himself, he felt a little bit embarrassed at how messy the place was. He rarely bothered cleaning up after himself during a flight, at least not until just before docking, and the results were obvious. Litter was everywhere, including a half-eaten meal from the night before, as well as a pot of coffee he'd let grow cold. At least she hadn't looked too closely at the recreation room, he thought with a sigh.
"Ah!" she announced suddenly, gliding forward onto the bridge, momentarily taking her eyes off of him. "What I'm looking for is right here!"
Adam smiled for the first time since her ship appeared on the sensors. "Glad you found it, Princess," he said, reaching casually over to flip a hidden switch. Slowly, he stepped back until he was just outside the room.
"Yes, I'm sure you are," she agreed. "Now, Captain, I want you to put this--wait, what is that unpleasant odor?"
"Well," he replied with a shrug, "you see, this bridge is protected by a fairly low-tech anti-hijack system, one that releases a knockout gas when someone tries to take over the controls. Seeing as you don't have a helmet on--and are so much smaller than me--I suspect it should be taking effect any second."
"Why, you--!" she began, lifting up the gun at her side, but before she could fire, he toggled the door controls. The bulkhead sealed in less than a second, even as the energy bolt from her gun sizzled harmlessly into its metal frame.
Adam risked a glance back through the plexsteel window. He could see her there, hovering, struggling with something that might've been an expandable helmet, but it was obviously too late. She made a choking gesture, sagged, and slowly sank to the floor, the antigrav field gradually lessening as she descended.
"Now, Princess," he said to himself, "we'll see just who's the prisoner of whom."
With a start, Valana awoke.
She tried to move, but couldn't. She wasn't paralyzed, though--her head could move from side to side, enough to see the giant form of Adam close by. He was holding something in his massive hands--some kind of metallic tool.
"Ah, you're awake," he said in that deep, booming voice of his. "That didn't take long. Your system must be pretty efficient to flush out impurities so quickly."
"Release me at once!" she cried out. Almost instantly she realized her voice wasn't being amplified any more. Glancing down as best she could, she saw that he'd removed her gorget, which contained the device in question. Her shoulder plates were gone as well, leaving her arms uncovered, revealing only the slick thermal undersuit that regulated her body heat. Her gauntlets remained, though, somehow stuck in place, so that she couldn't move except to rotate her shoulders.
"Sorry, I can't hear you, you'll have to speak up," replied Adam with a low chuckle. "I think you said something about being my prisoner? I'm sure that was it."
"Release me!" she shouted angrily. "Release me at once!"
"I'm not exactly confining you, Princess," replied Adam, moving much closer, and holding the tools up again. She shied away automatically, but he didn't point them at her face. Instead, he started poking at the seams of her breastplate. "You see, this magnetized surface here is holding your armor quite firmly in place. If you want to be free, you can just tell me how to disengage it."
"But then I will have no protection!" she snapped back. "That will nullify my antigrav field as well!"
"Well, I'll have it free eventually myself," said Adam. "You can't expect me to let you keep all your technology, can you?"
"That equipment is the property of the Kingdom of Tyskala!" she complained, struggling uselessly and trying to shift away from the huge tweezers he was holding so close to her tiny body. "You will cease damaging it at once and release me! If you do so willingly, I will see to it you are treated leniently."
"Oh, leniently, is it?" laughed the giant. "You're so generous, Princess. Are you going to just let me go, too?"
"Of course!" she insisted. "I don't intend to harm you, as long as you give me that cargo you have stored on your bridge."
"I don't keep any cargo there," said Adam. "I really don't know what you could possibly want, unless you like cold pizza."
"I don't know what that is," she replied angrily. "Stop doing that! I demand you cease and let me go, or--!"
"Ah, there we are," he said with a grin. There was a click somewhere, and she felt her armor's autorelease let go. He gave a couple of tugs, and the breastplate came loose, followed by the leggings as well. She heard them clatter somewhere close by, on a tabletop out of sight.
She struggled to move, but the gauntlets and greaves were still in place, so all she could do was squirm. Her thrashing about did little more than make his eyes grow wide. With a gasp she realized then that all she was wearing was her skintight undersuit, since she hadn't intended to remove her armor in his presence. The outfit, black save for a few silver thermal conduits, hid virtually nothing at all.
"Wow," he breathed after a moment. "Damn, Princess, you have one smoking hot body, you know that?"
"Do not look at me that way!" she screamed angrily. "I am a princess! I am not some piece of meat for the likes of you to drool over!"
"I'm not drooling, not exactly," he replied, moving closer to get a good look. "I'm just saying, I've, uhh, appreciated a lot of women, and you've got one of the finest bodies I've ever laid eyes on. In fact, I could safely say you're the hottest six-inch foxlet I've ever seen." He finished that remark with a loud chuckle that made her wince.
Valana frowned and steeled herself. "Fine, you have stripped me of my armor, and my dignity," she complained. "May I please be released from this undignified position?"
"All in good time," he replied, "but first, we need to get something clear. I'm the one in command here, not you. You may be a princess, but I'm not your prisoner any more, and I deserve some respect. Got it?"
She stared at him icily. "Very well," she finally agreed. "Now free me!"
"Sure thing, Princess." He reached down and pushed on her gauntlets, sliding them closer to her so she had some slack to work with. "All you have to do is take your arms out of those gloves of yours. Then you can free your feet yourself."
"Turn off the magnetic field!" she insisted. "That will make things easier."
"Oh, no, I'm not as dumb as you think!" he laughed. "You've probably got weapons in there, or maybe that's where your antigrav systems are. Free yourself, Princess."
She made a little growl of anger, but having little other choice, she slipped her hands out of the gauntlets, momentarily flexing her stiff fingers in the thermal gloves underneath. After that it was a simple matter to release the greaves, letting her stand up at last. She still felt virtually naked in only the undersuit, even though the only exposed skin she revealed was above her neck. As a princess, she was accustomed to never being seen in anything other than dresses and finery, except when her servants bathed her, of course. To be seen all but naked, and by a commoner no less, was...well, it was just wrong!
"You really do look amazing," commented the giant face before her. "I like the cute little boots, too. You look just like a little spy girl right out of one of my mystery vids."
"I'm so glad you approve!" she spat at him. "Very well, you have removed all of my defenses. I am helpless before you. What will my fate be, Captain? Will you turn me into your authorities for piracy? Or will you prove yourself the barbarian your words suggest you are?"
"Barbarian?" he replied curiously. "Is that what you think I am?"
"It's as good a word as any. I could think of worse words to use, if you prefer."
"I would think you'd be a little more civil with someone like me, Princess," he told her. "I am, after all, at least ten times your size, and you've got nowhere to go."
"Do you want me to apologize?" she demanded. "Is that what you want, giant? Perhaps you think you intimidate me, being so large, but I know the truth of things. My father, King Aramis, is very powerful. If he learns you have mistreated me in any way, you will suffer a great deal. I suggest you contact him with any ransom demands you may have, so that you collect your payment and go on your way. Then all this unpleasantness can be forgotten."
"That's how you think it's going to be, is it?" he replied. "That's how your people handle piracy? You know, it's funny, that's very similar to how things are done here in the Empire. We aren't so different, you know."
"From someone so immense, that does not ring entirely true," she pointed out. "Now, then, if you are not going to ransom me, then cease this foolish intimidation and return me to my ship. You have my word I will depart without further incident, and that I will return to the Cluster without any further attempts to prey on your shipping. Is that good enough for you?"
"Hmm," he replied, stroking his stubble-covered chin, causing a loud scratching noise not unlike fingers drawn across a brush. "Let me think about that for a moment. Sounds very tempting, but no. No, I don't think so."
"Then what--" she started, but that was all the further she got before several giant fingers suddenly descended upon her. With a choking scream she was suddenly lifted up into the air, kicking and beating on his thumb with her little hands, until finally she felt herself roughly deposited in the base of his palm. He was looking down at her with a grin that could only be described as evil.
"I have a lot of things on this ship to keep me busy during these long trips of mine," Adam explained after a moment of unabashed staring. "Lots of holos and vids and various toys--I'm sure you can imagine what kinds, if you think about it hard enough. Until you came along, I didn't think I'd be so lucky as to have a real live toy to play with."
"What are you talking about?" she demanded, although the horrified look on her face suggested she knew exactly what he meant. "Put me down at once! I am a princess, not a plaything! You cannot treat me this way!"
He poked at her roughly, and she did her best to dodge his fingertips, although there was nowhere to go. "You know something, Princess?" he taunted her. "If you'd been nice to me, you could've avoided this. You could've just asked for whatever it is you were looking for."
"You wouldn't have given it to me willingly!" she screamed in exasperation. "Stop touching me, worm! You haven't the right! My father will have your head for this!"
"That's your problem right there," he insisted, finally pinning her squirming form down under his index finger. She beat at the digit ineffectually as he prodded her from another direction. "You can't respect anyone but yourself, can you? You think you've got it all, where you come from. Money, respect, power, whatever. Not here, though. Not now. You're not a princess here. You're just a little toy, and now I'm going to play with you some, and you know what? There's nothing you can do about it. Nothing at all."
"Let me go, damn you!" she wailed, even as he probed and prodded at her remorselessly. "Let me go! Please don't do this!"
He smiled as he began to tug at the edges of her clingy undersuit. "Good, you said ‘please,'" he said with a grin. "That's a start, Princess. That's a start..."
Some time later, Valana was shivering near a gigantic sink, huddled in a grimy washcloth the size of a large blanket. She was sore and cold and disgusted, but she hadn't cried yet. That would come later, when there was no chance Adam could see. She still had her pride...that was something she could still cling to, at least for the moment.
She felt the vibrations from his footsteps as he came closer. She had thought he was finished with her, after that last humiliation, and the washing that came after. Apparently not.
He entered the washroom and stopped, looking down at her with an expression of something very much like pity. Opening his hand, he dropped a black bundle of cloth next to her. No, not cloth, but her thermal undersuit, and all the accoutrements too. Keeping her eyes low, she gathered it all in, and while staying concealed under the washcloth started to pull the garment on.
"Sorry, I saw you were cold," he told her. "This is the only thing that would fit you, I guess."
"What do you care?" she spat bitterly. "Now that you have humiliated me beyond all hope of redemption, you dare to show me kindness?"
"Oh, don't give me that, Princess!" he countered. "You enjoyed that at least as much as I did. Maybe more."
"What?" she all but screamed. "You--you violated me thus, and you dare suggest that I--!"
"You did," he insisted. "I saw you, Princess. I heard you. You tried not to moan too loudly, but I'm pretty good at this kind of stuff--I know where to touch women, even teeny tiny ones, and you loved every minute of it."
"What you did," she argued, "was the most vile and offensive violation I can possibly imagine! I will not and can never forgive this affront! When I escape from this place I will see to it you are tortured and burned for this crime. You will beg for a swift death!"
"That may be," he told her with a shrug, "but that doesn't change the fact that you got something today you never had before. You know something else? You may call this a humiliation, but you needed this, Princess. You needed to be brought down a peg or three. If you treat other people the way you treated me, you're going to thank me for this someday."
"Never!" she spat. Now that she'd finished getting into her clothes, such as they were, she emerged from the washcloth, finally feeling comfortable again, for the first time since--well, since he clutched her ruthlessly in his immense, excessively warm, surprisingly soft hands.
"I was right about you, ‘Captain,' you are a barbarian. To treat someone the way you did--how can you live with yourself?"
"Admit it, Princess, you needed it," he went on with a laugh. "You needed that just as much as you needed this other mysterious thing you came here looking for, and like I said before, all you ever had to do was ask."
"You think I would ask--you are truly despicable! Callous, brutal, a barbarian in every sense of the word!"
He shrugged. "Say what you will, but you know in your heart you needed a barbarian, Princess, or you wouldn't have come here like you did. You could've just told me what you were after, and made me put it on your ship. You didn't have to risk getting caught. You wanted it, and you know you did. Now come on, get in my hand."
He set his palm down near her and she looked at it disdainfully. There was no point in disobeying, though. He could always just pluck her off the tabletop without any warning if he wanted to, so she climbed aboard.
"Where are we going now, barbarian?" she demanded as he made his way carefully through the ship. "A cage, perhaps? Or will you keep your new pet in a box with holes somewhere? A crate, perhaps, or a drawer?"
"None of those, I'm afraid. Here we are now."
She looked around as he stepped through the next door, and saw to her surprise she was in the shuttle bay, near her ship. He leaned over and set her down next to it, near the hidden ramp she'd used to exit it when she first came aboard the freighter. Sitting there in a neat pile were all the pieces of her body armor, as well as her plasma rifle.
"What is this?" she asked, almost afraid to move towards the armor and weapon lest this be some kind of cruel trick. "What's going on?"
"That should be obvious," he told her. "I'm letting you go, Princess. All your equipment is right there--everything you brought with you. Take it. You can even shoot me if you want, if that makes you happy."
"But--but why?" she asked, curious despite herself, so surprised by this admission that she didn't even make a move towards the ramp. "Why let me go? I thought I was your little toy. You certainly seemed to enjoy having me in your power."
"Yeah, true, I admit that," he told her smugly, "but you see, I got to thinking after I showered you--where did you come from, anyway? Then something occurred to me, so I decided to see if my theory was true. I'm sure you know this, but way back when the human race was first expanding to the stars, there were some planets that just didn't support life as we knew it. A lot of those early explorers resorted to genetic engineering, and the result are a number of worlds that have populations that aren't really human anymore."
"Yes, I know all that," she replied. "That is how the people of the Cluster came to be. Our ancestors tinkered with our genes until we grew only to this size, not as big as you. That is how we fit properly on our planets. I assure you, we are quite aware of our past!"
"Well," Adam went on, "when the Solarian Empire was formed, they took steps to ensure worlds like yours wouldn't be disturbed. They were left to their own devices, guarded by what's called the Protectorate Pact. Knowledge of their locations was stripped from the record, and if anyone goes to any of those planets, it's a crime punishable by imprisonment, or even death."
"And your point is?"
"You're from one of the Protectorate Worlds," he told her. "I didn't know for sure, until just now, when you admitted you were genetically modified. This Cluster of yours must fall under the shield of the Protectorate. You should've said something sooner!"
"I suppose I thought it was obvious," she replied, but this time there wasn't any trace of pretentiousness in her voice.
"Or you didn't want me to think about it," he went on pointedly. "Anyway, regardless, now that I know, I can't exactly hold you against your will. If anyone finds out I have you here, or that you were even on my ship, I could be locked away, or worse. So I'm going to let you go, along with all your stuff, so there's no evidence you were ever here."
"You realize, of course," she suggested with straightened shoulders, "that I could file a formal complaint with your government. I could name you and your ship, and the punishment you are so worried about would still come your way."
"And then what?" he responded. "Draw attention to yourself? Reveal to the Galaxy that tiny people exist? I don't think you really want that, now do you?"
She hung her head. "No, you're right, I don't. You have me there, Captain."
"Then just go," he told her. "We had a couple of fun and mutually enjoyable hours together, and I guess that's enough for both of us." He gave a knowing chuckle. "Oh, and one other thing. I figured out what you were looking for--it's in your cargo hold. When I brought it out here, your ship opened up for it automatically, so I'm guessing I got it right."
"You--you didn't have to do that," she replied, gazing up at him now with something rather like awe. All of a sudden she felt immensely humble. "I--I don't know what to say."
"Yes, well, perhaps I shouldn't have been so rough with you," he replied honestly. "I was rather rude, but then, you can hardly blame me. In any event, take your stuff and go home, Princess. I'd hate to see you late for your ball."
"It's not a ball," she replied with a sigh, but she wasn't really in the mood to argue any more, so the reply was half-hearted. "It's a festival."
"Whatever," he answered. "Now, Princess, if you'd be so kind..."
"What?" she asked, gazing up at his towering form one last time.
He looked down at her tiny form and grinned. "Get the hell off my ship!"
King Aramis was staring out the parapet window again, as he so often did, when his daughter arrived. He watched her stride purposefully across the courtyard, never looking away. Her back was straight and she stormed directly into the lower entrance. A few moments later his chamber door slammed open.
"Father," her voice said coldly, "I have returned."
"So I see." He turned slowly to her. "Was your quest successful?" he asked evenly, even though he was already more than aware of the answer.
"Yes," she replied, jaw set in a firm line. "I retrieved what I was sent for. You will find it is being unloaded from the cruiser now. You will have plenty to serve at the festival."
"Good," he replied. "I hope you did not have to pay too high a price for it, daughter."
She tossed her head back. "You will have no idea how high, father."
As she started to leave, he took a step forward. "Wait, Valana," he called out. "Please, you must understand, I sent you on that trip for your own good. That was the only way you could be taught the lesson you needed to learn."
"Yes, I suppose it was," she answered, no longer bothering to hide her anger. "So you knew, then! You knew what would happen to me, out there among the giants."
"I suspected." He sighed wearily. "This was not the first time such quests have been undertaken. The only way you could succeed, one way or another..."
"...was to learn humility. Yes, I know, father. I figured it out on the way back here. I understand everything. You're right, of course. I've been a selfish little spoiled brat, haven't I? Well, fine, I'll do what you want, what's best for the kingdom. I'll marry whoever you say, seal whatever petty alliance we so desperately need. But I'm not going to forget this, I promise you. I won't forget!"
"Valana, I--"
But it was too late. She was already gone.
"I did it for you, daughter," said the king, too softly for anyone to hear. "I did it for you."
She would be all right, he knew now. She had finally matured, finally become the woman he needed her to be. She had become a true princess.
But her forgiveness...that would be a long time in coming.
The aging king turned back to the window, watching his daughter's slim back retreat angrily across the courtyard, and a single tear slid down his weathered face.
The console beeped.
Captain Adam Grames lifted his head. He'd been enjoying a nice quiet nap there--what was it now? Another misdirected comm? There'd been a lot of those lately, it seemed.
Not this time. He raised his eyebrow as he saw the signal on the panel--it was a proximity alarm, from a small ship the size of a shuttle. He'd set his sensors specifically to look for that configuration, not that he'd ever really expected to see anything like it again. A thin smile crept across his face as he straightened his hair, adjusted his clothes and waited for the inevitable hail.
Sure enough, it came a moment later. Several months had passed since he saw Princess Valana last, but she was exactly the way he remembered--the same perfectly coiffured golden hair and gorgeous features, all the more amazing considering that perfect face was so incredibly small.
"Captain Grames," her voice said, betraying no hint of emotion.
"Princess Valana," he replied courteously. "What brings you all the way out here, into the primitive realm of the freighter-folk?"
The edge of her mouth curled up into a smile, but she chose not to respond to that particular remark. "You're a hard man to find, Captain. I've been watching for your ship's signature for several days."
"Why?" he inquired curiously. "Are you out of what I gave you already?"
"I'm afraid so," she replied with a nod. "Unfortunately, the plant resists any attempts to genetically tailor it to fit our climate. The results just don't taste the same."
"Well," he went on, "I've got plenty set aside, just in case you ever came back. It's yours for the asking."
She shook her head sadly. "Ask? Me? That's not in my nature, Captain. You should know that by now. I'm just going to take what I want, seeing as I have the superior weapons and technology at my command."
"Yes, I remember," Adam agreed readily. "There's no need for another demonstration! I had some explaining to do last time, after they found signs of a shield overload in the defense grid's circuitry."
Valana smiled in that typically superior way of hers. "Good, I was hoping you would see reason. There is, however, another purpose for my visit. You see, things have changed since you last saw me. I've gotten married."
"Oh really?" Adam raised an eyebrow. "Well, good for you. Congratulations, I guess. How's married life treating you?"
"As well as could be expected," replied the princess. "My husband is extremely skilled at administrative tasks, and is an effective leader, as befits a prince of his standing. Nonetheless, he is lacking in certain other areas." She paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before finally continuing. "Furthermore, he does not completely understand me. I do not know that he ever will."
"Sorry to hear that," replied the freighter captain, in a tone that indicated he wasn't really sorry at all.
"In any event," Valana went on, tossing her head back and shifting back into her normal regal posture, "this has presented me with some new opportunities, as it turns out. I won't bore you with the details, but let me just say that now I'm involved in, shall we say, rather intense politics back home. Somewhat deeply involved, actually. Some might say too deeply."
"So?" Adam asked, leaning forward a bit in his chair. "What does this have to do with me?"
"Well," answered Valana with a gleam in those flashing green eyes of hers, "you see, my dear Captain, I've been a bad girl these last couple of months. A very bad girl, in fact, and seeing as how you're now my prisoner, I'm going to board your pitiful freighter and show you just how bad a princess can be."
Before he could reply, she broke the connection. Adam grinned, chuckling to himself as he activated the switch that opened his shuttle bay. He was so eager to meet her that he almost forgot to grab the small tin of coffee he'd kept handy just in case she ever returned. She was certainly going to earn it this time...one way or another.
Perhaps, he considered as he hurried breathlessly through the narrow corridors of his ship, one day she'd learn to just ask nicely.
But he hoped not.