[i]Maybe, just maybe, if I sit here quietly, they will go away.[/i] Maya thought dubiously to herself. She mentally mapped out her options, quickly weighing the pros, cons, and likelihood of survival. Running would be futile. Fighting presented too many risks. Surrendering held the most potential of getting her to civilization and closer to the Archon.

[color=00aeef][i]Must you overthink everything? You’ve spent most of your life as a royal official. You know how to charm and lie to get what you want.[/i][/color]

[i]I prefer to think of it as tactfully-embellished negotiating. Most politicians and ambassadors typically weren’t pointing weapons at me, however.[/i]  

	"Reveal yourself,” a voice called out, “We've surrounded you. Please don't make this hard, any commotion will alert the Enemy to our position. We all live, or none of us do."  

	Maya nervously caressed her trident, deciding whether she should bare it defensively or retract its blades into the compact cylinder. Choosing the latter, she slid her weapon into a sheath slung around her back. Slowly, she emerged from behind the rock with her arms lifted above her head. The headlights from the motorcycles washed over her, illuminating her silvery hair. She squinted, trying to discern the faces of the shadowy silhouettes around her. 

Maya cleared her throat. “Hello, gentlemen,” she greeted cordially while eyeing the myriad of guns focused on her, “No worries, I’m not wanting to cause any trouble. If you would be so kind as to lower your weapons, that would be much appreciated.”