Thank god for Jomaira. Yahya sent a silent prayer for her blessed existence as she convinced an officer to let their group board the last shuttle heading outside the planet for the foreseeable future.

It was heading to Marrakech.

Yahya didn't know whether his luck had finally gotten the memo and was trying to make it up to him, or something even more horrible was waiting for them there. More horrible than two imperial guards on their heels.

They sat in one compartment. A woman and a man were already sitting inside. Jomaira leaned back on the seat, exhausted from overusing her powers. Her eyes lulled down in the first sign of sleep.

The man and woman looked at their group, their eyes lingering on the pair of rebels, then back to Jomaira and him. The woman whispered something to her companion, her brows furrowing in concern. Still, she said nothing.

Mirah hissed under her breath. “I should have known you would screw up.” She glared at Ayman. “The docks? Really?”

Ayman shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Of course.” Mirah huffed.

Yahya remembered the imperial guard's words. 'We let you in.'

Yahya left them to their argument and turned his attention to the viewport display. If anything, these short moments where he got to just enjoy the beautiful view in front of him, were what softened the disaster their little escapade turned into.

“Are you okay?” The woman finally asked, her voice no more than a hushed whisper.

Yahya turned to her. She was cautiously eyeing Ayman and Mirah. Her fingers gripping her communication device. “Is everything alright?”

Yahya glanced at the pair of rebels and tried to see what the concerned woman was seeing. Two bloodied adults dragging two teenagers outside the planet, surely to some obscure and horrific future. She might even think the two Aly'rians had kidnapped them, Yahya thought. He glanced at Jomaira's sleeping form.

For a split second, Yahya debated whether to tell her everything, to tell her that they were forced against their will to help in a terrorist attack, that they were unwilling participants. A case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And then what? Would they believe them? Or merely think they were trying to save their hinds after they got caught?

“Yes, we're fine,” he said, forcing a smile on his face.

“Are you sure?” The woman pressed, her firm expression conveying her desire to call for security and get the two adults arrested.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

While he appreciated her attempt to help them, nothing good would come out of this.

“We're family,” Yahya said, a fake smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Too fake to be true.

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. She glanced at the Aly'rians, then back at him and Jomaira.

“We're adopted,” he added. “It was a bit rough down there with all the commotion.” He let out a long suffering sigh. “I just wish they would catch the troublemakers. We were supposed to finally spend some family time together, but now…” He trailed off, tilting his head to the side, a mournful expression pulling down at his lips.

The woman paused. She glanced at her companion who shrugged, then back at Yahya, her expression softening a bit. She nodded. “If you need any help,” she said, emphasizing her words. “Do not be afraid to ask me.” She fixed Yahya with her deep brown eyes.

Yahya smiled gratefully and nodded. He bumped two pills into his mouth, and waited for the signs of hyperspace travel to darken the view screens.

Yahya blinked the remnants of hyperspace from the back of his eyes. It was getting easier and easier.

Something under their ship casted a soft light through the windows. He got to his feet to get a better view.

Marrakech. The red giant.

It loomed over them. A sphere of pale green, lined with mountain ranges stripped with navy blue rivers connecting into a larger body mass of water. Huge red patches indicated the huge cities that populated the surface of the planet.

“Beautiful,” Yahya muttered.

It was nothing like Andor.

“Isn't it?” Ayman smiled. “But this−” He waved his hand at the ship's display. “−is nothing compared to earth,” he whispered.

Mirah threw him a harsh glare but he continued, ignoring her. “It's said that this whole planet was modeled after one of earth's famous cities. The red city of Marrakech. Though I never saw it, so I can't attest to that.” He shrugged. “I guess we'll find out soon enough once we find earth. Something tells me that won't be as far as we thought.” He grinned at Yahya.

Yahya ignored him. He had no desire to prolong this disaster of a trip with them. If they were lucky, he and Jomaira would exit their happy party and head back to Andor. While it was nothing to be missed, it was ways better than being fugitives.

There were also their families...

Yahya glanced at Jomaira who had miraculously woken up right before their public transport made its hyperspace exit. Yahya was sure she was dead worried about her family.

The sooner they ditched the rebels, the better.

The couple they had met in the transport had shot them a final glance at the docking bay, before they got separated by the sea of people.

They didn't use Jomaira's powers to get around the checkpoint. Ayman and Mirah had sneaked them through a cargo hold and into the baggage area. Through there, it was an easier matter. Yahya was appalled at the lack of care and security paid to people's stuff. No wonder baggage was lost so often.

They would hide in a safe house, another cargo storage at the outskirts of the capital city of Marrakech, to wait for some other rebels to convene with them.

Yahya pulled Jomaira aside and whispered in the hushed way possible. “Let's leave.”

She gnawed at her lower lip. “Is it safe?”

“We'll never be safe as long as we stay with them.”

She nodded.

They waited till they reached a checkpoint and the siblings were busy surveying the officers for any sign of manhunt. Without wasting another second, they slipped through the crowd.