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!"

The inside of the dumpster, though devoid of garbage, smelled even better than the alley—like a wonderful combination of rotting fish, rotting garlic, and other stuff, all rotting.

"I am not a dog," Andie growled. "And I am not a helpless damsel." Even if Oliver loved her, she planned to make him pay profoundly for this indignity once they'd successfully escaped (no need to do so if they were successfully fed to Space Korks) the rational side of her brain knew that without her powers, she was a liability. She was no good to Oliver if she was a drone target. Holding her breath, she bit her lip and begged her powers to flipping work.

"Can you please help?" Andie said.

"I think we overdid it back at the security bubble. And anyway, don't you think I would've helped if I could?" Bad Andie grumped.

"I never know with you."

"It would be very sad if Oliver died before you could censure him for throwing you in a putrid dumpster."

"Too right." Andie cracked her knuckles and pressed her lips into a hard line. Blue light burst from her fingers, zapping the dumpster, which promptly exploded. She rolled onto the concrete, pebbles, and bits of dumpster digging into her skin. She leaped into a fighting crouch, fists level with her face.

She was ready to kick some serious jellyfish ass. Not that they had asses, but none of this mattered because the drones were gone.

And so was Oliver.

"Oliver! Where are you?" She headed back up the alley, paused, and listened.

There.

To the right.

Oliver issued a pained cry. Andie followed his voice. Something compressed her heart. The idiot had done this for her. Finally, she turned a corner, and there he was, leading the drone army, running like prey. So this was his plan—save her by proffering himself as the sole target. No way could she allow him to sacrifice himself. Especially not before she killed him for the whole "throwing the girlfriend into a dumpster" idea.

The drones were inches from Oliver, but too far to zap. The only way she'd get there in time was if she blasted through the alley. Thank god for the spacesuit. She barely skirted the orange and yellow sparks from a partially severed electrical cable that had fallen to the ground.

"Oliver!" Andie yelled. If she could get him to stop running, she could catch up and zap the drones. She and Oliver could then attack them from both sides.

He turned and looked at her in horror. "Andie! No!"

Taking advantage of Oliver's hesitation, a drone wrapped him in its tentacles and lifted him into the air. The rest changed course toward Andie. She sent out blasts of Neuronic energy. "Give him back!"

Her sexy alien was a dot in the sky as the drones closed in. She shivered as an icy tentacle brushed her face, but remained stationary. Not only did she have to rescue Sterling, now she had to rescue Oliver too. Which meant she had to let the drones take her wherever they were taking him. Otherwise, she might never find him again. She took a few paces forward and lifted her arms overhead to make it easier for the drones. Not looking where she was going, she stepped into something wet and squishy, like quicksand.

And plummeted.

Through the granular muck into a dark chamber. Her stomach flipped, and her heart raced as she crashed through what felt like two sheets of glass spaced about eight feet apart. She left her stomach behind as she plummeted into the dark, screaming.

Andie continued to scream for quite a while, but soon became bored with it and switched over to whimpering, which was much less taxing on the vocal cords.

If only there were helping hands, like the ones in Labyrinth, slowing her descent. But nope. Andie had ended up in a science fiction nightmare, not a pleasant fantasy with a gorgeous ballgown and a beguiling David Bowie looking hot and juggling magic balls.

As she fell, the scraping, groaning sound of resurrected machinery ricocheted off of what she could now see, thanks to a flickering yellow light, were metallic walls with rungs lining the sides and thick cables running down the center of a narrow shaft. If she spread her arms, she could touch the rungs, but she was going so fast, she'd probably lose a limb or two if she tried. To make matters worse, one of the jellyfish drones had flown in after her. Blue light dribbled uselessly from her fingertips. No matter. Blowing things up wasn't quite the superpower she needed at the moment. If only Neuronic energy included the ability to fly.

The chasm seemed bottomless. Needles of cold air bit at her exposed hands and neck.

"Do something," Bad Andie screamed.

"Absolutely. What do you recommend?" Andie said with utter sarcasm.

"Why aren't you freaking out?"

"Because I'm exhausted. All those years wishing I could travel to far-off galaxies and turns out it totally sucks. Also, I am ..." Andie ran through some calculations ... "67% confident the spacesuit will save us."

"Even now you quote statistics?"

"What else do I have?"

The temperature in the shaft increased, probably because she had fallen all the way to hell.

Andie closed her eyes, tightened every muscle in her body, and braced for impact. Something gooey and metallic dug into her wrists. The jellyfish drone! It yanked her upward. For a moment, the pain in her wrists was so sharp and intense, Andie nearly blacked out. But when the drone gently set her down at the bottom of the shaft, she exhaled in relief. It unwrapped its tentacles and fell next to her onto what appeared to be a glass-strewn metallic platform. The drone went limp.

Strange.

It had deliberately saved her life.

And she had done exactly what Oliver had warned her not to do. She'd fallen into a trope. The question was, what kind?

Andie gave herself an entire minute to catch her breath. But there was no time for contemplation. The important thing was getting back to the surface and finding her BFF and her ABFF (alien boyfriend forever.) And once they escaped this insane moon and returned to earth, she was giving away all her Star Wars memorabilia. Time for a different hobby. Something less taxing on the body—like kickboxing or free-falling out of airplanes.

How to get back to the top? If only Oliver had included something useful in his warnings about tropes. Like specific instructions on how to escape. It was a long way up the way she came. This she knew from the interminable drop. And every muscle in her body ached.

Andie exited the shaft into a normal "night"—as normal as a night can be hundreds of feet beneath the lunar surface. Millions of stars and a few pastel moons dotted the "sky." It must be some sort of projection. Off in the distance, through a thick stand of trees, lights twinkled. Perhaps it was a town. And there she would find a nice elevator in working order. Because, obviously, what she had stumbled into was a broken elevator. The aliens had to have more than one elevator.

A serpentine pebble path led into the forest. Andie sighed and walked as fast as her sore muscles allowed. The gravel crunched as she walked. As her muscles heated, aided by the spacesuit, she regained her strength and picked up the pace.

Andie sprinted through the trees, pine-scented air cooling her face. The lights were closer now. Racing at top speed, the trees were a blur as she pounded against the rocky path. Everything was going great until she took a step, and when her foot came down, there was nothing beneath it.

It took a split second for her to realize she had walked off a cliff.