They landed in a cornfield to ditch the sweaty space suits. Jess made a show of dramatically kissing the ground, which Sam didn't comment on. She had almost killed them two separate ways, after all. The sweat drenching her uniform felt clammy and sticky in the cool breeze.

"Jess, we don't have any money."

"I hate to be Captain Obvious, but you have super powers. Why would we need to pay for anything?"

"Maybe because I'm looking to go the superhero route instead of the supervillain route?"

"It doesn't have to be one or the other. Only a Sith deals in absolutes."

"In that case, let's rob a seven eleven and help an old lady cross the street. Return some balance to the Force."

"Or maybe we take out Walter White and some of the money disappears before police show up." Jess turned about in a circle. "Where are we? Do we even know if this is America?"

"It has to be. We came straight down from geosynchronous orbit. Wait a minute . . . does coming straight down account for angular momentum? Ugh, why am I such a science fiction nerd when science fact is clearly more useful? Well, ginormous corn fields have to mean midwest, right?"

Jess tilted her head to look straight up. "We left the other ladies behind, Sam."

"I couldn't take everyone. I barely managed an escape for two."

"I know. But Rhonda, Minnie, Alicia, and Grace are real friends. I abandoned them."

"Sorry, Jess. I didn't even think about anyone else. I just knew I had to take you when I left. We joined the fleet together, so I figured we should desert together."

"Are we criminals now?"

"Not in this jurisdiction! America doesn't have an extradition treaty with the fleet."

Jess gave her a skeptical look. "They have psychokinesis and mind control powers. I'm pretty sure they could own this country if they wanted to. We're definitely going to need to stay undercover."

"Maybe not. My teacher bailed on the fleet. Cassandane is the ultimate badass."

"She's your Sarah Conor Yoda?"

"To be honest, she doesn't give off much of a Yoda vibe. Sarah Conor, yes. For the instructor angle . . . Professor McGonagall? No, that's not right. Wait, she's totally Morpheus."

"How much hyperbole are we doing right now?"

"She's straight up the baddest bitch in the solar system. Only a couple of people can match her."

"You seem confident."

Sam winked at her friend. "I'm a bit of a badass myself, in case you hadn't noticed. I just need some training."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

After a few more rounds of banter, Sam lifted them into the air to get a better vantage point. She found a road and began to follow it from above until it passed through a three street town. As she brought them back down, she spied only a few notable features. There was a Dollar General, two churches, a fire hall, and a diner. They touched down around the corner from the diner and walked into public view as casually as possible, navigating the parking lot almost exclusively dedicated to pickup trucks on their way to the door.

No one so much as glanced their way as they entered. Instead, everyone's attention was on a television that looked ancient.

"Nineteen ninety called, it wants its TV back," Jess whispered to Sam.

"Good one."

"So how do we get a waitress to look at us when everyone is standing at the counter? Maybe announce someone backed into a truck? That should clear this place out."

Sam pointed to the news segment. "Uh, Jess?"

"What?"

"Shit is going down."

They both gazed towards the television, where a skyscraper flew across the sky and stopped, before being levitated down the street and set on its side. Two men seemed to be involved with the dramatic rescue. The first guy hammed it up big time, making a show of striking dramatic poses, only to fade out of the action towards the end. The second guy . . . well, the shot of him resting hands-on-knees before looking up was quite memorable. "That guy looks rough," Sam muttered.

"Mmm-hmmm," Jess purred.

"Ew, no. Bad Jess."

"I'm just agreeing with you. He looks like a badass."

Sam pinched the bridge of her nose. "Didn't you learn anything from dating Brad? We need to adjust your type to 'successful and well adjusted'. The 'macho man' thing is no good."

On the screen, the two men launched into the air and shot down a street like they were the Road Runner escaping Wile E. Coyote. The image changed then to show a familiar form tying together bodies of what looked like prison inmates, lashing them together with a steel cable, and then stepping back to let the macabre arrangement bop into the sky like a cluster of balloons anchored by a string. The woman stared at her handiwork before flying away fast enough that the camera lost her.

A waitress behind the counter turned and squinted at them. "You two are dressed exactly the same as the woman who killed all the prisoners."

Every eye in the place turned towards them, giving off an Invasion of the Body Snatchers vibe. Sam froze even as Jess lit up under all the attention. "Doesn't it look just like the Angmari uniforms? We had to go to three different Old Navy's before we found one that had them in stock. We're not, like, fan girls or anything. We're wearing Angmari style ironically, if you know what I mean."

One of the men standing close to them blinked at the stream of words spewing from Jess. He looked around as if verifying everyone else was equally confused before taking it upon himself to interact with them. "Where exactly are you girls from?"

"Northern California," Jess said. "California girls, we're unforgettable." Confused expressions all around. "So hot we'll melt your popsicle."

"Uh . . . ." The man turned his gaze about the room as if attempting to relinquish his self-appointed role as town ambassador to someone else. He found no takers. "Uh, why are California girls in Nebraska?"

"We are obviously on an epic road trip," Jess said. "We were hoping we could get a few glasses of water? Our purses were stolen, so we can't pay for anything . . . ."

"Water is free," the waitress interrupted. "You say that you are wearing Angmari clothes? Does that mean the woman on TV is Angmari?"

"She's certainly dressed like one." Jess shrugged. "But then again, so are we."

The waitress eyed them skeptically. "I think I can tell the difference from the real thing. I'll get you some water. Do you need to use a phone to call someone?"

"No phone," Jess said to the waitress's back.

Sam caught her friend's attention. "Having fun?"

"So much fun."

"Well, I just saw my teacher on TV."

"Oh. Oh! Please tell me we're not going to New York now."