My Crazy Hot Interstellar Affair

36. "The Force" Definitely Not "With" Area Couple

They slipped out of the diner into a dark, windy alley, the pungent odor an olfactory assault of garbage and cheap wine. Andie leaped over an empty pack of Lucky Strike skittering along the concrete walkway. Overhead, a murder of crows balanced on buzzing electrical wires, a yellow balloon trapped between the lines.

While these were the last things one would expect to find in an alien paradise, Andie had to admit whoever did the set decorating on the Colony was pretty thorough.

Still, after running for several minutes without being caught, her heart hammering even with the magical spacesuit, Andie began to hope they might have a moment's respite to regroup and plan and maybe not be captured and fed to Space Korks or whatever horrible fate awaited them. But this hope came to a screeching end as ahead of them an army of drones dropped into the narrow corridor like TIE fighters charging into the trench to stop the rebel attack on the Death Star.

Oliver and Andie lurched to a stop and sprinted backward. Oliver took out a few drones with his zappy blue energy. Andie tried zapping, but nothing happened. She gritted her teeth in concentration, begged Bad Andie for help, but only produced a solitary, feeble bolt, which fizzled out of her fingertip. Perhaps she had exhausted her abilities when she took out the security bubble.

Oliver could only tackle a few drones at a time, but for every drone he eliminated, ten more took its place. No way could they conquer them all with Neuronic woo hoo, especially with Andie's being out of commission. "This isn't good," Andie said, stating the obvious.

"Halt. Halt," ordered the drone. "Your presence is requested ..." Three drones squeezing into the small space at such a high speed ended up crashing into the walls and exploding like X-wing fighters in the attack trench. What Andie and Oliver could totally use right now was a healthy dose of The Force.

Why did The Force have to be science fiction and jellyfish drones, science fact?

"No. It is not at all good," Oliver concurred. "We must retreat." He grasped her hand, and they ran.

It finally sank in what the drone had said. Not "stop so we can kill you," or "you underestimate the power of the dark side." But instead ... "Your presence is requested?" Andie said aloud as they tore through the alleyways. "Are they trying to abduct us or invite us to a royal wedding?"

"It could be their programming is confused. Or they are trying to fool us into trusting them. Over here." Oliver led her into another dark, dank alley, the closest drone sputtering more orders for them to halt, stop, and cease in numerous languages. This alley was narrower than the others. The buzzing from the drone flotilla in the small space was as loud as a nest full of hornets hopped up on crystal meth-laced Rockstar Energy Shots. Andie and Oliver charged ahead, toward a row of dumpsters at the end of the passage.

But when they got there, Andie's heart sank. Because there was nowhere to go. A dead end. Clearly, the Force was not with them.

Oliver lifted the closest dumpster with one hand like some superhero show off. He threw it at the drones. It sailed through the air, taking out a squadron of the pursuers with a metallic clang, crushing them beneath the dumpster. Tentacles stuck out from underneath, splayed against the ground like trampled spiders.

"Andromeda." Oliver glanced sideways at Andie. And his use of her proper name combined with a toothy grimace told her she would not like what he was going to say next. "Sorry about this."

"About what?"

He opened another dumpster, and before Andie could utter a word of protest, she found herself inside with the heavy lid slammed shut.

"What did you ...?" Her voice reverberated in her metallic prison. Andie pounded against the walls. "This is ridiculous!"

"Just give me two minutes, then you can come out. I love you. Now stay!"