Steel arched over their ship. Bars lined the landing bay. They encircled the transport.
Relda followed the prompts on the touch devices, and an opening formed. She stood and shuffled her feet. She checked her surroundings. If the Dialorians heard her footsteps, it was over.
If her steps made any noise, the sound of her breathing and heart palpitations muted them.
The reinforcement beams came alive, morphing from metal to thin glass structures. They flashed fire engine red, and squawks echoed through the landing bay.
Time froze all around Relda, and she thrust her body weight against the transport. Hot, moist breath invaded Relda's neck. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. He had consumed space crustaceans recently. She dared not move her eyes. The sneer that followed the breath kept her hostage.
"Don't move."
The Dialorian had a cool, egomaniacal tone. Relda watched every movement inside the transport. None of the clones shifted.
Relda clutched the blaster at her side. One wrong step from the Dialorian, and control belonged to her. And she had seven trained, armed supports.
"I wouldn't do anything stupid," the Dialorian threatened. "After all, you've got children aboard. That would be irresponsible to put them in danger, wouldn't it?"
Relda tightened her body and let go of the blaster. He was correct, and a pattern had formed in their warfare thus far. One died, and numerous others would swoop in and take his place.
"Come along, Princess," the Dialorian said. "And bring the passengers along too."
Relda nodded through the window, and seven teenagers rose in unison.
"You're just letting him take us?" Ozla whispered.
The Dialorian scuffed his feet. He narrowed his eyes and opened his coat long enough to produce a probe. A light flashed on the probe screen, and created a digital canopy over Relda and the clones.
One blink saw them from an alert state to faded consciousness and total immobility.