Chapter 2.3

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Scotty blinked, started to shake his head, and realized he was lying on hard, damp ground. He blinked again, taking in the strange blue-greenish foliage and the taste of blood in his mouth, and remembered. He'd been circling around, being as stealthy as he could, when something had hit him on the back of the head. He'd been attacked!

Bracing himself against the pain, he scrambled to his feet to confront his attacker. His vision wavered as he swayed dizzily for a second; then he focused on the figure pointing his blaster at him. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The tall, slender woman with long honey-gold hair considered him for a moment, her dark hazel eyes thoughtful. She wasn't wearing a uniform, though her knee-length tunic and matching cornflower blue trousers were cut in a loose imitation. The silver sash around her waist added to the semi-official feel of her appearance. And, Scotty noted, she was holding the weapon as if accustomed to it.

"I think," she said, in a surprisingly soft voice, "I had better be the one to ask the questions, since I have the weapon. Please identify yourself."

It took Scotty's fogged brain a moment to recognize that she was speaking Praxatillian. Of course, he probably had too; they'd spoken English with Ford and Khediva but had switched to Praxatillian when they met Major Ilyanan. Well, if this was a trap for Mara, of course they expect us to speak Praxatillian, he realized. He wondered if his name would mean anything to any non-Praxatillian after all this time. "Scotty Devon."

The woman raised her eyebrows in astonishment. "Is that your full name?" she asked after a moment.

"Trade," he said. "I answered one question, now you answer one. Who are you?"

She smiled dubiously. "I would be happy to answer that question if I were convinced you answered mine truthfully."

"I haven't got any ID on me," he said. He tried his best charming grin. "Look, you attacked me, not the other way around.  I won't hurt you. Give me the gun back and let's talk like civilized people."

"I would like to, but I'm afraid I cannot until I am sure—" She broke off, looking at the woods behind him. A look of surprise and relief came over her face, making her seem younger. "Var!"

"Aurora!" Ford greeted her. "Where's Mother? Why aren't you with her?"

"We got separated in the disturbance," Aurora said. "I've looked for her, but I don't think she's here any longer." She smiled at him. "I'm very glad to see you, your highness."

"I'm glad you're safe," he replied. "And no highnessing, Aurora. This isn't an official occasion."

"Is it not?" she replied. Then she turned to Scotty and handed him back his blaster with an apologetic smile. "I am sorry I hit you, Captain. I had no way of knowing you were an ally."

Sabrina joined them, looking reproachfully at Ford. "Are you all right, Scotty?"

"Yeah, fine," he said. He reached up to touch the back of his head and winced a little. "I'm just out of practice bein' hit over the head, that's all."

"Hi," Sabrina said to Aurora. "I'm Sabrina Devon. And you are?"

Ford cut in, "Lady Sabrina, Captain Devon, I have the honor to present Lady Aurora ya Daroun nar Ruschar, Chief Attendant to the Guardian. Aurora, these are my long-lost cousins." He turned to Sabrina. "Aurora and I grew up together. Her mother was my mother's chief attendant when we were children."

Sabrina gasped. "You're Selémahs' daughter?"

Aurora nodded. "My parents are Selémahs nar Ruschar and Leran nar Daroun. I am sure they would both wish to be remembered to you. And I am honored to meet you both; my parents often spoke of you."

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