Oliver raised his arms and relaunched Google Galaxy.

The cabin filled with those multicolored lights, expanding until the bridge filled with glowy blue stars, planets, black holes, quasars, and nebulae. With the poise of a conductor, Oliver began the symphony that was navigating with Google Galaxy—pointing his fingers, sliding his palms, maneuvering the tiny bat ray-shaped Star icon out of the path of The Big Guns—a gunmetal gray sphere with spires of weaponry jutting out of every inch of its surface.

The spectacle was so entrancing that for a moment, Andie forgot everything swirling around her only represented reality. A rude reminder of this occurred when a tiny streak of red light burst forth from The Big Guns icon and hit the Star icon, sending the real Star into one of those "Darth Vader in a TIE fighter at the end of Episode IV" out-of-control spirals. But for the harness, Andie would have splattered against the white walls like a bug on a windshield.

Andie squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the armrests as her heart thumped in her ears and drowned out the sound of her own screams. Adrenaline froze in her veins like liquid nitrogen. She needed to calm down. Also, something niggled at her. She should ask Oliver a question. But what was it?

Breathe in. Breathe out. And maybe stop yelling, because that is not helpful.

"Why do you keep getting us into life-threatening situations?" Bad Andie sobbed. "All I wanted was a quick plunge with my hot Italian merman, Wade De Longo. But there isn't a moment where we aren't trying not to die. I've had enough!"

"Then go. I never invited you anyway."

"If only I could, I would. You're the one with the body. Do something!"

The ship rocked from another hit.

With one hand, Oliver slid their ship icon what looked like inches from a black hole. He grabbed her arm with his free hand. "Andie! Andie. Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

Andie shook her head. She needed to get better at hiding the fact that she had bat-shit crazy conversations with Bad Andie. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

'I said, The Big Guns has the most advanced weaponry in the Amu fleet. Its weapons are so powerful they could reduce a planet to rubble."

"Like the Death Star?"

"That is a film reference, correct?"

"Well, yes."

"The Big Guns is real. And it could take out the Death Star, if it existed, on half power.

She opened her eyes and clenched her fists. "You tell me that and ask if I'm all right? I'm in a jealous spaceship, mere inches of metal the only thing separating me from the vacuum of space, being fired on by my boyfriend's insane parents, way too close to a black hole for comfort, and despite all that I'm insanely horny thanks to your magical spacesuit!"

Oliver grinned.

"This is not a time for smiling. Do something!"

"Sorry. You just called me your boyfriend, and it gave me joy."

Oh, Star would just love that. Andie covered her face, waiting for the ship to shatter the remaining light fixtures or give the bridge that farm-fresh burnt smell, but nothing happened. "Don't get too excited, Oliver. I won't be any good as a girlfriend if I'm molecularly scattered. We have to fight back. Don't you need to charge up the main guns or something?"

"Main guns?"

"In Star Wars ... never mind."

Another blast sent the ship corkscrewing through space. This time they lost internal gravity, and once again, and Andie tugged at the harness. She concentrated on not heaving in zero gravity because imagine the floating vomit. No, better not to imagine. She dug her nails into the metal armrests. Note to self: do not dig fingernails into impermeable surfaces. Ouch. Every fingernail snapped beneath the quick. Then they grew right back. Earth totally needed magical jumpsuits!

"Andromeda." Oliver stopped navigating and regarded her with what looked like pity. "Star is a pleasure cruiser, not equipped with weaponry, except, of course, for her tail. But that isn't much help with long range battle."

"Are you kidding me?" The Big Guns icon sent a half-dozen more blasts their way. "Keep your eyes on the ... uh ... road ... I mean ... whatever. Look out!" Andie braced herself for impact.

Oliver snapped to attention and began evasive maneuvers, narrowly avoiding the first strike. "Thank you, Andromeda," he said.

"Any time," she squeaked. Once Andie's heart slowed to a mere jackhammer tempo, she thought of the question she'd been trying to form in her brain since the first time The Big Guns fired at them. "Oliver, your parents wouldn't blow up their heir, right? I mean, your mother missed killing you repeatedly back at the hangar. And none of The Big Guns blasts have blown us up. Either she's a bad shot, or she isn't serious about filicide."

"Sometime I will have to introduce you to my mother's temper. In the meantime, you need to be quiet and let me fly, because I am quite interested in keeping your molecules in their present configuration."

Although that last sentence was one of the most romantic utterances ever, Andie's face heated. "You did not just tell me to be quiet. I just saved our lives!"

Oliver fixed a serious, 'I mean business' gaze upon her, but the corners of his mouth twitched, exposing a hidden smile. "Do not worry, Andromeda. I will let nothing hurt you. As soon as we leave hyperspace, we should lose them. If they exit hyperspace a split second after we do, they will still be at least a parsec away. Do you trust me?" Oliver spun the ship again, avoiding a volley of fire. Oliver spared a glance in her direction. "Well?"

"I'm thinking."

They spurted out of fuzzy white hyperspace into the normal velvety blackness of space, near a solar system with two suns. As they neared the silvery moon of a red planet orbiting the smaller of the two sun, Andie recognized it from the intro to As the Earth Turns she saw on Oliver's TV. It looked more like a planet than a moon, with clouds and jagged-edged continents.

"We made it!" said Andie. "Now let's land and get Sterling. I knew I could trust you." She loosened her harness, leaned over the arm of her chair, and kissed him, hard. She felt a delicious tug in her nether-regions. But most likely, this wasn't the right time to have sex. Right?

"Uh ..." said Bad Andie. "Why not?"

She had a point.

His mouth moved beneath her lips. "Uh, Andie?" He pulled his head back.

"Yeah?"

A red blast streaked across their path; the impact so hard Andie's skull rattled. Star Force One whined at such a high pitch, it felt like someone had lit a blowtorch in Andie's ears. Bits of the ship's outer hull streamed into space. Google Galaxy dissolved. The cabin went dark.

"Do something," yelled Andie, because it was all she could think of to say. Her voice sounded strange and tragic inside her head. Oliver's lips moved, but Andie heard nothing. "I can't hear. What's happening?"

Oliver mimed holding his nose and breathing out as hard as possible. Andie did so. "Holy Toledo," she said. "That hurts."

"Can you hear now?" said Oliver.

The poor ship moaned in agony.

"What happened?" The ship continued her gut-wrenching sob.

"They shot off her tail. Damn Cyra! I am sorry, Star." Star cried even harder as her severed tail plummeted through a layer of clouds. "We've also lost navigation and life support. I cannot alter our trajectory." The hum of the engines died, and the ship tumbled into the moon's atmosphere.

"No!" Andie shrieked. Her stomach flip-flopped. "We're going to crash into that shoe building. Into Sterling!"

They plummeted. The moon's surface loomed. The big red shoe getting closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Despite the magical suit and lack of food, Andie still heaved, such was the immensity of her reflexive "gift." The meager contents of her stomach ejected in a spiral from the centripetal forces and splattered on Star's pristine white interior. Neuronic energy flowed from her fingertips. A single light right above Andie flashed on.

Star gasped. The engines sputtered. The ship lurched.

"What's happening?" Andie said.

"It's Star. She's a miracle."

Their trajectory changed. No longer were they heading for the shoe. They flew toward the ocean.

Over a white sandy beach.

Past a blur of striped umbrellas and thatched cabanas.

Andie closed her eyes and prepared for obliteration. At least Sterling would be all right. Oliver unlatched his restraint and folded his arms around her. They would die in each other's arms. This idea was not as romantic as one might think. "Trust me?" Oliver breathed in her ear.

"I'm sorry, Oliver."

He kissed her head. "I love you."

The world shifted. Her body lost all sense of gravity and orientation. The solar wind whipped past her skin, heating her to boiling. Her skin did that turning to charcoal thing. She got charred, sucked into the soul-wrenching depths of an imaginary black hole. By now she knew the Wormhole drill. No light. No sound. Moving faster than the laws of physics. The emptiness of the universe sliding against her skin. But this time, she wasn't alone. Oliver was there to catch her when they rematerialized on the beach, their bodies sparking blue energy, the smell of ozone burning her nostrils.

A shriek rented across the tropical landscape.

Star.

The tailless ship crashed into the water. The screaming only stopped when her metal carcass sunk beneath the waves. Andie sobbed. "Poor Star. She was a hero. But how did she do it? I thought the engines were dead."

"I am not sure," Oliver said. "It seemed like she did it for you."

"I feel terrible." Andie clutched the fabric at the shoulders of Oliver's spacesuit.

"You should feel horrible, you inferior human scumwhore." For a moment the voice and the words seemed at odds, until Andie came to her senses and realized that now Cyra possessed Sterling's voice, and these words were the sort Cyra would speak. Where had she come from ?

"What?"

"You heard me," said Cyra, sashaying down the gangplank of The Big Guns. She scuttled down onto the sand, pointing a laser at Andie. Emerson panted after his wife like a puppy at her high heels. Oliver scooped Andie into his arms.

"Mother!"

"I'm pretty sure scumwhore is not a thing," said Andie, fingertips sparking. "Put me down, Oliver. I have had enough of this bi ... uh ... woman uh ... whatever."

"Yes, put her down, Oliver. It will give me a much clearer shot."

Cyra wiggled the laser.

"Enough, Cyra. Please give me the weapon," Emerson said.

"No," Cyra spat.

"You couldn't hit a microphone at a red carpet movie premiere." Apparently, the spacesuit made Andie even bolder than was normal or sensible. She wriggled out of Oliver's arms, even as he tried to pull her closer. Boy, this suit improved her strength. She charged Cyra, bringing her foot up at the last second for a solid roundhouse kick. Her leg moved so fast, it was a blur even to Andie.

But once Cyra pressed the trigger on her laser, time shifted to slow-motion. Oliver caught Andie's heel and tossed her out of harm's way. Emerson screamed as Oliver's body crumpled like a discarded beach towel on to the sand.