Jarden made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat and pushed off from the door, floating to where Anya snuggled in her sleeping cocoon against one wall. On the run from the Telepath Guild, hunted by their crazy-ass assassin, had to abandon my home and family, and managed to drag my best friends along with me on this fun-filled, life-threatening space safari. Still not looking up from her study of their would-be rescuers, Anya snorted. Brooding again? the dark-skinned woman asked in disapproving tones. Searching their rigid features for even the faintest hint of compassion, she didn’t lift her head when the door to the cabin slid open and Jarden floated through, graceful as always even in zero gravity. These were military holoscans, typically stern and uncompromising, but Anya didn’t take comfort in their unsmiling faces and hard expressions. The man could have been made of stone and the woman had a face as cold as a glacier and eyes like diamond chips. Unfortunately, they look terribly helpful. And these two people were her last slim hope of averting it. Except mess was too mild a word-catastrophe was better. What a mess, Anya sighed, staring at the two holographic figures standing on her palm unit. –William Shakespeare Hamlet, Act I Scene IV Chapter 1 " Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" Stepping Stones: The Huntress Series of Short Stories Here There Be Dragons: Sunscapes Trilogy Book 2
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