When a person's hair is on fire, it demands one's full attention and focus. So was the case with Cyra who, despite being an advanced alien with access to mind-boggling technology, had never heard of 'stop, drop, and roll.' Andie's eyes watered from the acrid stench.

With Cyra running across the stage in her Sterling form, beautiful tresses rapidly turning to ash, Andie spared a moment to contemplate her still-sparking fingers. She seemed to get more powerful. But now a ballroom full of Amu knew she had contracted the royal family's signature weapon. Great.

Andie needed a plan. And quick. Before Cyra's hair finished burning and unleashed her attack-supermodels again. The Priority One had disappeared after the last of the doves flew wherever François had gone, so that option was out.

Perhaps she could Wormhole. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to picture a nice cozy out-of-the-way cargo hold on the ship, but she did not know where such a place would be. For all she knew, the Starship Magnificent had a chompers room like the one in Galaxy Quest and she'd end up there. She shuddered at the thought of being crushed between two metal cylinders.

"Open your eyes. You can't Wormhole here," Oliver said, grabbing Andie's hand. "There are Wormhole blockers all over the ship. We have to run."

"But ..." Andie said.

Oliver rolled his sparkly alien eyes and then lifted Andie, cradling her against his cinnamon-scented chest.

"Put me down!" Andie demanded as he sprinted down the center aisle toward the exit. Amu cleared out of their path as he ran, Oliver's blue light paving the way.

"I am not a child! And I don't trust you!" Andie twisted in his grip, which only became more ironlike. Stupid alien strength.

"I think trusting me is your only hope." The grand doors swung open. "Stay here!" Oliver commanded his Amu subjects. The doors closed, and no one followed. Oliver's boot steps echoed on the metallic floor of the empty corridor.

Exhausted from all the fighting and disappointment and hair loss, Andie gave up and slackened in Oliver's arms. He was right. She had no option but to trust him.

The corridor differed from the ostentatious pageantry of the wedding chamber. Its curved walls were industrial and a glowy white. With bright lights and sleek, utilitarian walls, it had all the personality and warmth of an MRI.

For the first time since arriving on the Starship Magnificent, a wave of awe engulfed Andie. As a little girl, she'd imagined herself on the Starship Enterprise, seeking out new life and new civilizations (though the civilizations were all the prime-directive variety and nothing remotely like this crew of insecure, arrogant, kidnappers), but this was real life. If she wasn't at the moment being jostled in the arms of a hot alien in clown pants, beating a path down the hall so fast her teeth rattled, and she didn't have a friend to rescue, she'd have definitely unleashed her inner sci-fi nerd and fondled every surface.

Oliver turned a corner so fast, that she bit her lip. Again. "Ow! Put me down." A bolt of blue energy zapped out of her fingertip and struck his neck.

"Ouch! And no. I will not let go of you. Ever. Now stop assaulting me so I can get us a ride out of here."

"Sorry. By the way, we are going to talk about this blue energy thing I've caught from you. Wouldn't it be easier to take the Priority One to wherever Sterling is?" Andie said, uttering a sentence she suspected had never been spoken by anyone, human or alien.

"No. That's only ship to planet. The Colony is seven light-years from here. The only solution is to steal Star Force One."

"What's that?"

"You mean who. She is my father's pride and toy. He will be livid. But never mind that. He went along with Mother on the whole marry Talia scheme, so I will not feel guilty."

"Pride and joy?"

"No, toy. Like a toy for a grown person. But she prefers me, anyway."

Andie was about to ask about how a spaceship could develop preferences when a brushed metal door shuttered open, like in the opening credits in a James Bond movie. A cold rush of air escaped from inside a dark room.

Oliver slipped in sideways so as not to behead her, which she appreciated. Although her head was bleeding, covered with bird goo, and missing a major chunk of hair, she was rather fond of it. The door hissed closed behind them, and overhead lights came on. Oliver did some blue zappy thing to what looked like the lock mechanism, which shorted out in a curl of blue smoke.

They were in a hanger deck the size of a football field, with rows upon rows of spaceships. They came in all colors, sizes, and styles—saucer-shaped orbs, sleek, cylindrical, metallic, black, white, fluorescent, and even pastels. Add an inflatable tube man and a salesperson in a plaid sport coat, and you'd have something like a used car lot.

"Put me down," Andie ordered.

"Fine," Oliver said, gently placing her on the shiny steel floor. "But we must hurry. There is an army about to descend on that door. Burning hair and a broken lock will only hold Mother for so long."

"I hear nothing."

Oliver shook his head. "Human hearing."

"Amu arrogance," Andie retorted.

Shouts on the other side of the door got louder. Andie could make out Cyra's boorish orders but in Sterling's voice. The door blew up, and bits of it exploded into the room, narrowly missing Andie.

"This way," Oliver said, tugging her hand and dragging her down the furthest aisle.

"Seize them!" Cyra ordered. "Or you're all going to the brig! For the rest of your lives! Which will not be long!"

"There!" said a female voice.

Andie glanced over her shoulder as they ran. A supermodel guard raised her weapon and fired.

"Watch out," Andie said, pushing Oliver between a pink lipstick-shaped model and a sandy-colored one that looked like a giant snickerdoodle, just as a streak of red laser fire whizzed past the spot he had occupied a second earlier. She choked on her own heart, which had thumped its way into her throat.

"Thanks!" he said. They took off, zigzagging through the spaceships. "We are almost there."

A shot glanced off the remaining strands of Andie's long hair. They sizzled out of existence. "Shit."

They rounded the corner. Andie's side ached, and she gasped for breath. Oliver squeezed her hand. "Only a little further." Laser fire whistled past, glancing off of spaceships. Another shot hit the bottom of her excuse for a dress. It dissolved. Oliver's eyes sparked so much, that Andie's face heated. She forced down her mortification, promising herself she could be embarrassed all she wanted after they were safe.

They seemed to be in a nicer neighborhood. The ships here were bigger and sleeker and shinier—apparently, these were the high-end luxury models. At the end of the row sat a spacecraft shaped like a bat ray, its skin black and glossy. It had triangular wings on either side of a conical section that narrowed at the back into a twenty-foot-long rat-like tail.

"That's her. Star."

Andie thanked the gods. Every muscle in her body sizzled with pain. She couldn't suck in enough oxygen. Oliver wasn't the least bit out of breath.

Oliver zapped the door lock, and an almond-shaped yellow glowing light, that looked remarkably like a human eye, glowed on. The tail twitched to life and slapped the floor like a whip. Andie yelped.

"I hear them," said Cyra. "You idiots! Why do I have to do everything?"

Oliver frowned. "I do not know why she is not responding to my Neuronic signature."

Shots of laser fire flashed overhead while the tail came closer, slapping only two feet from where they crouched. The yellow eye regarded Andie with suspicion. "I think maybe it's me," said Andie. I don't think your ... uh ... spaceship likes me.

"It is okay, Star. She's with me," he said, pushing Andie out of the way of the tail. "Come on, Star. Open up." He zapped it harder. "Please."

"Is it alive?" Andie asked.

"It depends what you mean by alive. And she prefers being referred to as 'she' or 'Star.'"

"I don't want to have a philosophical discussion about the meaning of life here," Andie said. What I want to know is: is she sentient?" A clacking of high heels and heavy breathing approached.

"Well, yes. I suppose she is." Andie noticed the eye squinting at her as if reevaluating its battle plan. Now it was trying to hit Oliver so he would fall, opening Andie up for an unobstructed attack.

"Stop," Cyra ordered, scrabbling to a stop twenty feet away. Andie's heartbeat sped up and her fingertips sparked blue.

"Call off your henchwomen, Mother. Someone will get hurt."

Flashes of laser light shot past Oliver and Andie, hitting the outer skin of Star Force One. A glow encased the ship, and then it seemed to absorb the laser energy.

"Damn," Oliver whispered to Andie. The laser fire has activated the force field. Now it will lock off all entry."

"Get away from that ship!" Cyra yelled. A gaggle of clacky, high-heeled supermodel guards lined up in a v-formation beside Cyra. Oliver kept Andie behind him. The ship's tail hovered in midair as its eye tracked the action.

"I am sorry, Andromeda. I have failed you." Oliver held his hands over his head in surrender.

"What are you doing?" Andie hissed.

"Saving your life," Oliver whispered over his shoulder.

"Do not harm Andie," said Oliver. "And I will return peacefully to the Joining."

"Nice try," said Cyra, raising her weapon.

"You want grandchildren, correct?" Oliver said.

"Yuk," said Andie. "Are you trying to make me throw up? Again. I don't want to think about you mating with Talia. And you will not marry her to save me. Do you understand?"

"Cyra, no," Emerson caught up with his wife. "If anyone gets a single scratch on Star ..." Cyra ejected three more laser blasts on Star, narrowly missing her son. "Stop. You cannot murder Oliver. What kind of mother are you?"

"One who can taste victory. What kind of captain are you? Seize her," Cyra shouted. "Then toss her into space along with the rest of the garbage."

"No, Mother." Oliver pulled Andie even closer behind him and backed them up to the ship's door. The ship's skin felt oddly warm against Andie's naked back. It seemed to have a pulse.

Unsure how they were going to get Oliver out of the way, the supermodels shambled slowly toward them, like a zombie army. "You are the worst guards I have ever seen," Cyra screeched. "Court-martial for you all." The guards paused and glared at Cyra, who had the most abysmal leadership skills in the universe.

Oliver tried the ship's door one more time with his blue zap. Andie gulped. Her fingertips sizzled with her own blue zappy energy and joined with Oliver's.

The door swished open at last, and Andie's heart leaped. They tumbled inside, Oliver landing on top of her. Cyra screeched, and knocked over a few of the guards, blasting the ship as she launched herself toward the ship's door. Andie squeezed her eyes shut to prepare for death. Cyra shrieked, but the sound clipped off mid-bellow as the door closed. Andie opened her eyes in the now silent cabin. Out the large front window, the supermodels raised their weapons and shot continuously Star rumbling and shaking.

Star then wrapped her tail around Cyra and swung her around the hangar. In a flash, the tail released the evil ice mom, who soared like an ICBM. Emerson leaped at least ten feet into the air and caught his wife.

Love is strange.