The building was relatively empty, the guard had indeed taken most of the soldiers away to the other side of the city. They had half an hour before anyone noticed that something was wrong. They advanced inside the building, Jomaira leading them to where the resistance member− Ayman had frowned at them as Jomaira referred to them as terrorists, since then they've taken care not to use the word again− was being held.

Ayman was at the head of their little group. He took care of the soldiers straggling around. Only knocking them out, he insisted, at their horrified looks when he bashed a soldier's head against the wall.

Yahya was inclined to believe him. There was no trace of blood on the poor soldier.

They stopped at a corner. A few distance away, two soldiers stood vigil, their hands on their blasters.

“There,” Jomaira whispered. “She's being held in that room.”

“What else is behind those doors?” Ayman frowned at the two lone detainers.

Something was wrong.

It was odd. There she was, an important member of the resistance, and only two soldiers were stationed at her makeshift cell to prevent her from escaping. They weren't even imperial guards.

Surely, if there were imperial guards inside the building, they wouldn't have let them get this far. They weren't being subtle about their intrusion. Yahya was glad Jomaira's powers worked on the imperial guard earlier. Once they were done with this nightmare and back to their home planet, he would get her to tell him what exactly happened. For a second there, he had thought the guard had found out about their plan and was going to arrest her.

“I don't know,” Jomaira said. “The guards weren't coordinating with each other.”

It came to him as a surprise. The most elite forces in the empire did not work as one collective body. Instead they were fighting amongst themselves, competing to one up one another.

“What should we do?” Yahya asked.

Ayman hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we're already here.” He glanced at the two of them. “I go in. The two of you stay here.” He emphasized the word 'I' with a raised eyebrow.

“No.” Yahya shook his head. “What if the other guards show up while you were there setting your friend free?” He turned to Jomaira. “How many are there?”

“Three.”

Yahya waved his hand in a 'you see' motion.

Ayman sighed, exasperated. “Fine. just… stay close then.”

Yahya looked pointedly at him. Excuse you, he wanted to say, who exactly should be annoyed here.

The two soldiers were startled at the sight of Ayman. But like the others, before they could reach their Comms to report an intruder, he was in front of them. He bashed their heads against each other and they fell to the ground, unconscious.

…Or so Yahya preferred to believe.

He didn't bother to look for the door's key. With a snap, Ayman removed the door from its hinges and threw it aside.

Then a white energy field slammed into him, sending him crashing against the wall. He fell to the ground with a groan, but quickly stood back up.

“You dumb shit! What are you doing here?” An angry female voice sounded from inside. “You knew it was a trap!”

“Come on. You knew your brother wouldn't just abandon you.” Another woman chuckled. She emerged from the room but stopped at the door. She didn't even acknowledge the fallen bodies of her fellow soldiers before her eyes fixed on Ayman. Her short red hair swayed as she tilted her head, barely grazing her black and gray imperial armor at the shoulders. Her lips twisted into a smirk. “It made it too easy for us. Catch one, and the other comes running like a brainless bull.”

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Brother? Yahya blinked. So that was why he went to such lengths to free her.

“We don't leave our own behind. I'm sure someone like you wouldn't comprehend this,” Ayman said lazily. But the black veins surrounding his eyes had expanded significantly.

“Oh, please.” The woman rolled her eyes. “What would the empire benefit from such defects?”

She exited the threshold of the room and advanced towards Ayman, her hands held ready at her side.

“Now.” She sent another energy field Ayman's way. Ayman quickly evaded. The spherical energy dug into the wall. A loud groan echoed in the hall as webbing cracks spread along the old structure. “Where is the Pen?”

Pen? Yahya stared at the guard's cold eyes. A pen?

If a pen was all it took to stop this nonsense, Yahya would have given each of them a whole pack of them. In all color spectrums.

Ayman stared at her, refusing to reply.

“The whole planet is surrounded. We detected your ship once it left hyperspace. You didn't evade our detection. We let you in.” Her face twisted into a leer. “You can't escape us.”

She paused, regarding him with a pitying look. “Don't make this more complicated than it should be. Now, where is the Pen?”

Ayman touched inside his jacket. “With me.”

She extended her hand towards him. “Give it to me and all of this will be over.”

“What would I get in return?”

She frowned, as if not comprehending his question, as if wondering how he dared ask that question. “Is your life and your sister's not enough for you?”

“No.” He shook his head, a huff escaped him in laughter. “No. Not when billions are dying because of you.”

“Then, I'll take it off your corpse.” She hissed.

“Doesn't seem like an appealing offer to me.” Ayman tsked. “How about this? You let us walk away from here. No blood spelt. No harm done.”

“In return for what?” she lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

“Your life.”

The nerve of that man. Yahya gawked. As if Ayman wasn't on the defensive, unable to land a single hit on her.

The imperial guard laughed, a harsh cold laugh, that made shivers run up Yahya's spine. “You seem to be unaware of your own situation.” She launched another energy field his way that Ayman barely evaded. “You should be begging me for your life.” Her face twisted into an ugly scowl.

Yahya frowned at the pair. Not for the first time, he wished he was away from here. These two were mad. They spoke of murder like they spoke of having tea for breakfast. He could give a pass to Ayman; the Aly'rian was supposed to be a terrorist. A self-proclaimed resistance fighter. But the guard? Wasn't she supposed to bring the empire's justice to the galaxy?

What were they fighting over? A pen? What for?

Really.

“Yahya.”

Yahya turned his attention to Jomaira who was eyeing the crumbled soldiers. “We need to free his sister,” Jomaira said.

Yahya nodded, and they both inched their way to the holding cell, leaving the pair to their bickering.

The woman was chained to the chair, her hands on the table fastened by two manacles covering her arms to the elbow.

“What the...! kids! That idiot recruited kids!” She snapped in indignation. “I don't believe it, this idiot!” The black veins around her eyes kept extending and receding, as if she was struggling to use her powers.

Yes, Madam, Yahya wanted to say, your brother dragged two innocent bystanders into your resistance− freedom− rebellion fight with the empire. Two underage innocent bystanders, might he add.

Yahya was starting to like her. She seemed the most sane of the two.

“We're picking up strays now?!” She yelled.

Never mind, then.

“What are you standing there for? Go get the keys!” She struggled to lift her arms from the table.

A power dampening manacles.

This was the first time Yahya had seen them. They were used on the worst prisoners of the empire. On planet Qara. The prison planet. A planet home to the galaxy's most cruel and terrible criminals.

The keys were put carelessly on the table, just out of the Aly'rian woman's reach, taunting her. Jumaira hurried to the Aly'rian's side and unlocked her cuffs with one swipe over the manacle controls. The woman rubbed her hands with a wince. She tested the bands. Then with a swift movement, she tore them apart. Her eyes shone a golden yellow and her black veins finally stopped shifting across her skin.

She lifted the chains from one side, the rest trailing after her, and joined the fight outside.