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[color=Khaki]”Well, I think that’s about all of the business we’re going to get today,”[/color] Mister Abel says, flipping the old “Come in, we’re OPEN” sign on the door to say “Sorry, we’re CLOSED.”

[color=MediumPurple]”One person who talked himself out of buying anything, a hipster couple who were ‘just looking around,’ and a homeless guy who needed to use the bathroom,”[/color] I say as I count down the register-- more of a ceremonial gesture than anything, since nobody actually bought anything all day.  [color=MediumPurple]”I don’t know how we’re ever going to keep up with all of this demand.”[/color]

Mister Abel chuckles.  [color=Khaki]”Oh, we’ll get by, I imagine.  Which reminds me,”[/color]  He roots around in his pockets, before producing a wallet that somehow looks even older than him, and plucks out a single fifty-dollar bill and two twenties.  He hands them to me with an apologetic smile.  [color=Khaki]”I’ve already taken the liberty of deducting your rent and utilities, which I’m afraid doesn’t leave much left over.”[/color]

[color=MediumPurple]”It’s fine,”[/color] I sigh.  The fact that it isn’t much doesn’t really bother me-- I’ve got a place to sleep and some groceries in the refrigerator, and I spend most of my free time reading the books in the shop anyway.  What bothers me is how bad he feels about it not being much.  [color=MediumPurple]”It really is, Mister Abel.  I appreciate you taking me in, giving me some honest work.”[/color]

And being discreet about the identity of his new tenant, so as not to draw the attention of people looking for me, of course, but that goes without saying.  As far as I know, my “father” and his band of hooded weirdos are still tearing Southern California apart trying to find their sacrificial lamb.  Lucky for me, it’s a big state, and I was able to put plenty of ground between them and me before going to ground.

I had alternated between walking, hitchhiking, and taking the bus from Los Angeles to Jump City, which was, as one might expect, a terrible idea.  The open road has no shortage of creeps who would be all too happy to take advantage of a teenage girl traveling alone.  I made it a point not to go straight to any one city, to sleep in rest stops that were well-lit and had 24-hour staff, and to tell anyone who looked a little too eager to ‘help out’ to go to hell.  Even then, there was every chance I might have wound up buried in a ditch somewhere.  Which, to be honest, wouldn’t have been that much worse than what I was running away from.

I’d wandered into the ‘House of Mystery’ just looking for a place to spend some time before finding a shelter for the night, and found myself striking up a conversation with Mister Abel.  I’d never mentioned the fact that I was on the run, or that I had nowhere to go, but he seemed to sense it, and let me know he had a room for rent and was looking for someone to help watch the shop.  I let him know I was armed and would stick him like a pig if he ever got any ideas.  He chuckled, said I was hired, and a month later, I’ve more or less settled in to what might generously be called a ‘life’ here.

[color=Khaki]”Oh!  I’d nearly forgotten!”[/color]  Mister Abel once again fumbles about for his wallet.  [color=Khaki]”While I was out attending my afternoon errands, I couldn’t help but notice that in the park they are making preparations for some rather large event.  I asked about, and saw that one of the larger video-game companies, the ‘Control Freaks,’ were launching some new device or another, and having a party to celebrate it.”[/color]

He pulls out a crisp new hundred-dollar bill and offers it to me.  [color=Khaki]”Your bonus for your first month of good work.  Enjoy yourself.”[/color]

I look at the money, then back to my kindly old boss, and shake my head.  [color=MediumPurple]”Thanks, Mister Abel, but….I don’t really do parties.  Or video games.  Or going outside, for that matter.”[/color]

He chuckles.  [color=Khaki]”Or concerts, or plays, or art festivals, it seems.  My dear Rachel, it seems as though you don’t really ‘do’ much of anything.”[/color]

[color=MediumPurple]”....I guess not.”[/color]

Mister Abel places the hundred in my hand, and closes my fingers around it.

[color=Khaki]”I insist.  You’re a wonderful young woman, and I know it isn’t my business to ask what’s troubling you, but….well, making some friends might do you a world of good.”[/color]

I let out a sigh.  [color=MediumPurple]”I’ll give it a try.  For your sake.  But I wouldn’t get my hopes up…..”[/color]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/VRYqkqXt.jpg?1[/img][/center]

[color=MediumPurple]”I don’t really do ‘friends,’ either.”[/color]
[hr]

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Long have I looked to the stars, the glittering points of light at play in the endless heavens, and saw beauty and infinite majesty.  Now, looking through the viewscreen of my escape shuttle, those stars seem cold, the vast distances between them empty and uncaring.  Am I to drift forever in the unending void?

[color=Orange]”Sister….”[/color] I find myself asking, holding back my tears, [color=Orange]”How could you have done this?”[/color]

Far behind me, Tamaran is in ruins.  Long we had fought against the Citadel, repelling their soldiers, burning their ships, bringing down their orbital bombardment platforms.  I had taken up our father’s mantle, the Starfire, light of hope and champion of the innocent, to lead our people from the front.  Komand’r, on the other hand, had coordinated the war effort from afar, controlling the logistics and communications that made our victories possible.  Her work was vital, but she envied the glories heaped upon me.

And so, she had betrayed us.  She had given the Citadel secret knowledge of the vulnerabilities in our defenses, and when we most needed to fight together, struck me from behind.  I could not bring myself to kill my own sister, and she made me pay dearly for my mercy.

[color=Orange]”There must be one,”[/color] I say to myself as I search through the navicomputer’s archives.  [color=Orange]”Merciful X’haal, let there be one….”[/color]

Our world fell, and the Citadel made my treacherous sister nominal Queen of Tamaran in exchange for fealty to their greater empire.  Our generals were executed, our monuments toppled, our palaces burned.  I was paraded in chains through the streets by Komand’r-- the self-proclaimed ‘Queen Blackfire’ in mockery of my own title-- and was to be made the plaything of the brutal and salacious Lord Damyn.

I had fought like an animal to free myself, and stole one of the escape shuttles from my father’s-- now my sister’s-- flagship.  After disabling the tracking signals to make sure I would not be followed, I began searching the stars for a safe haven, one where the Citadel and my sister could not find me.

Even if I do find one, though, what then?  Hide away forever?  I am a Champion of Tamaran; I would never dishonor myself with cowardice.  Seek vengeance against my sister?  I have no armies, no fleet, no weapons to wield.  Perhaps once I find safety, I can then begin to gather allies.  Perhaps the Lanterns, or the people of Rann....

[color=SkyBlue]ATTENTION,[/color] the navicomputer sounds, [color=SkyBlue]SEARCH PARAMETERS HAVE YIELDED ONE POSITIVE RESULT.  M-CLASS PLANET, DOMINANT SPECIES A LEVEL-1 TECHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY.  INTERSTELLAR CONTACT: MINIMAL TO NONE.[/color]

Viewing the data, it is a small planet, barely noticed by any of the great space-faring peoples.  Its people are primitive, little more than savages, but by astronomical coincidence, happen to look like Tamaranians.  It may be possible to seek asylum here, but finding allies is out of the question.  They will be of no help to me when it comes to freeing my people.

Still, I have no other options.  I set a course for the shuttle to jump…..and I finally allow myself to cry.

[color=SkyBlue]YOUR STRESS LEVELS ARE ELEVATED.  WOULD YOU LIKE SOME SOOTHING MUSIC, OR A CHEMICAL RELAXANT?[/color]

[color=Orange]”No,”[/color] I say, drying my eyes as the wormhole-drive begins to whir.

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/DpEwfwkt.jpg[/img][/center]

[color=Orange]”What I need now….is a friend.”[/color]