A/N: Before you start, keep in mind that I have no in-depth knowledge of intergalactic stuff and sci-fi mumbo jumbo, so take it as you see it. Thank you.
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"Murderer!"
"Get out of here!"
"Disgusting!"
The shouts of the mob echoed through the streets of the Kingdom as Ishtar was paraded through the neon-lit night.
With a Trait-Suppressing Collar around her neck and cuffs of the highest grade binding her, she had become a criminal of the highest degree.
Accused of regicide, the illegitimate daughter of the late King and Third Princess of the Taegon Dynasty was a spectacle for both humans and non-human life forms in the crowd.
Despite the chaos and hostility surrounding her, Ishtar remained impassive, living up to her nickname of the Ice Princess.
She walked with a straight back, ignoring the taunts and jeers of the mob.
The neon lights that shone on her fair skin gave her an otherworldly appearance, but no one stopped to admire her beauty.
Instead, they watched with disgust as the chains shackled to her feet hindered her movement, causing her to stumble on the tarred roads.
None of the uniformed guards on hoverboards came to her aid, instead choosing to trail behind with wicked amusement.
The march seemed to go on forever, until the sounds of the mob were replaced by the constant rumble of engines and thrusters that marked the Taegon Spaceport.
Ishtar and the guards walked past people who were offloading and unloading cargo between spaceships and the port.
Finally, they arrived at a sleek battleship emblazoned with the emblem of a scythe bisecting a planet - the symbol of the Osiris Empire, the sovereign rulers of the Andromeda galaxy.
Ishtar was escorted onto the battleship, where she was greeted by the ship's captain, a tall, imposing Kalui with piercing green eyes and a jagged scar running down his cheek.
The ship's lobby was cold and sterile, the walls and floor made of shimmering metallic panels that seemed to stretch on forever.
"Welcome aboard, Princess," the captain said with a sneer, making it clear that he had no respect for a convicted criminal like Ishtar. "You'll be spending the next few days with us as we transport you to the penal colony on X-542."
Ishtar's heart sank at the mention of X-542. She had heard stories about the barren planet filled with ores that was reserved for the most dangerous criminals in the galaxy. It was a place where prisoners were worked to death, with no hope of parole or release.
As the ship took off, Ishtar tried to come to terms with her new reality. She had gone from being a princess with a privileged life to a convicted criminal with a grim future.
Despite the turmoil roiling inside of her, Ishtar's face remained indifferent, her amethyst eyes cold and distant.
"Tsk. Put her in Isolation." The Captain turned around and walked to the control room, the blue skin common to his race giving a cartoon-like contrast to his black warden uniform.
With his back turned to her, he gave a nod to a guard standing at the end of the corridor, a lanky Deerkin, who came forward and roughly took Ishtar by her cuffs, worsening the red marks on her wrist, and pulled her through the metallic corridors to the cells.
She briefly glanced at the warden pulling her along.
The Deerkin's twisted antlers seemed to mirror the twisted minds of most of the wardens, who spent their lives guarding mass murderers and evildoers of the most heinous acts. They inevitably became that which they guarded against.
Their footsteps echoed in the passageways that had no other sounds save for the hum of engines.
Her hands started trembling.
She wrinkled her nose at the smell of engine oil in the air and felt faintly nauseous, a throbbing pain slowly finding it's way to her head, and her back started hunching, a result of her legs that seemed to be weakening by the minute.
But the Deerkin took no interest in her condition, and without mercy, yanked her along by her cuffs.
As they walked past the cells, Ishtar saw a variety of races locked inside - a few Felines, some Orcs, a large number of Namekians, and surprisingly, even a Kalui.
She couldn't count their exact number as she slowly started seeing double, what was wrong with her? Was it poison? But when was she poisoned?
Her breaths started getting heavy, and the act of inhaling and exhaling turned challenging and strenuous.
She vaguely heard the warden inform her they reached the end of the hallway, where she'd stay in isolation.
"Special treatment for the Princess," the Deerkin said with a sneer, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Ishtar gave no visible response, and when he turned to her, he saw her spit blood on the floor, he released his hold on the cuff to deactivate the forcefield. And with no support, she stumbled, and leaned on the wall for support, gripping her chest tightly.
"Hey! Princess! You can't die yet."
Although his words gave a context of worry, he remained standing indifferently, watching with relish as she struggled against a possible collapse.
From his perspective, it seemed as though the reality of her grim situation had just hit her.
When she found her balance, her legs were comically wide apart. And as her heavy breathing was slowly replaced with deep, steady breaths, he saw her standing in a daze, her purple eyes strangely distant and blank.
He reached out in confusion and she snapped out of her daze at that moment, jerking her head in his direction.
He flinched when he met her cold and deep soul-piercing gaze. By the time he realized that sweat had matted his mane in the matter of a few seconds, her eyes had returned to it's regular iciness.
Outof denial and the shame that he was scared by a convicted criminal, he mercilessly shoved her into the cell.
He stabilized his trembling hands and tapped the square hologram hovering on his palm, causing the forcefield to close the entrance of the cell.
He took hurried steps to his fellow warden standing guard at the end of the corridor, a green skinned Reptilian named Kert.
Taking his place by his side, he spoke slowly, failing terribly at hiding the tremors in his voice.
"D-did you see that?"
"What?" Kert's hoarse voice sounded exasperated.
"Her eyes! At-!"
"Jeez, Rocky, keep your voice down!"
"S-sorry," Rocky the Deerkin heeded, and continued, this time his voice hushed "As I was saying, at t-that moment before she entered, didn't you notice that she felt different, maybe, a little more... dangerous?"
"Are you having space sickness? Should I inform the Captain?"
"I'm serious!"
"You're hallucinating. Now shut up and go stand at your post."
"O-ok." He didn't sound so convinced that he was truly hallucinating. Or was he?
Those eyes, they sent shivers down his spine. The Princess's eyes were naturally frosty, but in essence, her coldness was that of pride and alienation.
The one he caught a glimpse of was machine-like and detached, as though he was merely a bug in her presence.
He shuddered again. It must have been his imaginations. Maybe he was truly spacesick.