Acantha smirked as the handmaiden stepped forward to exit the ship first. In the long run, it was better to let everyone think she was exactly as she appeared. A sweet and naïve princess with nothing but innocent love to spread amongst her people. Of course, it would be a tragedy if she were injured by some foul play. So, the handmaidens always went first. Acantha did not argue with her.
There was some irritating buzzing noise in her ear anyway. It was far too distracting to put up any kind of a fight over a little thing like who went first. Acantha lifted a hand, using the flats of her fingers to push against her ear gently. “What is that noi-…” She began, but her words were cut short by a sudden flame that flickered brightly, dousing the entire cabin in azure fire. Acantha scrunched her face up. This was most unusual.
At the mention of her name, Acantha dutifully turned. She came face to face with the bright holographic depiction of a twi’lek. Acantha did not like the look on her face.
Le’black.
Acantha knew that name. Her eyes shut tightly for a moment. Blocking out the light, blocking out the panicked heartbeat of the pilot which had been pounding at her mind the minute they had stopped. Of course. The shadow spoke confidently. We remember Le’black. Charcoal eyes snapped open as a playful smile began to dance across her lips. Already, tendrils of dark force had begun to lash from her body, sneaking and winding its way through the metal walls and out into the city in search of something dark and dangerous. Something fun.
Her ears perked at the word game. This was going to be fun. In the game of cat and mouse, Acantha was never the mouse. This traitor had had no idea what she had unleashed by uttering those words, and unfortunately for her, traitor was this cat’s favourite snack.
Four hours was easy.
Too easy.
It was only when the vile thing continued to speak that Acantha realised why. She rolled her eyes heavily. It was all well and good tempting her to a game, but where was the fun in that. Acantha cared extremely little for the lives of a few inconsequential workers. Her intense gaze fell on the holoprojection as it spat out the locations of the groups, embedding them into her memory. Granted, the knowledge that they had clues on them was indeed useful, but Acantha hoped she would not need them at all.
Then came the rules.
She almost let out a resounding pfffffft at the notion of her requiring help. The twi’lek was the cheater, hiding behind civilians and holoprojections, not Acantha. As though the twi’lek needed acknowledgement of her rules, Acantha presented her with a resounding nod. She took games seriously. Hopefully, the handmaiden and the pilot did too. When the twi’lek began on the second rule, Acantha lent forward in her seat to hear properly.
It was the soft, eerie sound of creaking metal that first told her something was wrong. So by the time the pilot began his dreadful squawking, Acantha was already halfway out of her seat and skidding toward the handmaiden. By the time the beam smacked into the side of the ship, Acantha had wrapped her arms around the handmaiden and erected a bubble of cushioned force to protect them from the worst.
As they careened through the air at a stomach-clenching speed, Acantha could only smile. No ships. The shadow mocked. No ships. The beast repeated. That was fine with all three of them. She never liked ships anyway. “Silly mouse.” Acantha said aloud, coupled with a haunting giggle, though it was likely lost in the chaos of the crash.