EXOPLANET

Daehyun, Yongguk’s most trusted member of the squad Yongguk usually commanded, found Sehun and Gaia before the tiger did.

“Hold this,” he told Sehun, ing a gun at him.  “It has tranquilisers in it.”

Sehun took it, automatically turning it so that it was comfortable in his grip and checking that the safety was off.  It was over a week since he’d last held a gun and he felt a little out of practice.  Beside him, Daehyun was loading the unconscious man onto the open-topped jeep he’d turned up in.

“Oh my gosh,” said the princess, clapping her hands together with delight.  “Can I drive?”

Daehyun just shot her a disturbed look and helped her up into the passenger seat.  Sehun climbed up into the back, scanning the surroundings for the tiger.  Both of the horses trailed after him and stood beside the vehicle.

“Zelo will be along for those soon,” Daehyun said.  “He was just getting used to the quad bike.”

“Can I please drive?” the princess piped up again.  This time Daehyun responded, looking a little nervous.

“Your Highness, you don’t yet have a licence.”

“But it looks fun.”

“It won’t be if something goes wrong, Your Highness.”

“Hey.”  Sehun tapped her on the shoulder, earning a startled look from Daehyun at the familiar contact.  “I can start teaching you tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Daehyun turned to him.  “Are you sure the queen will allow that?”

“I’m dead certain she won’t,” Sehun replied.  “But that’s not going to stop me.  Driving is a life skill.”

“I can see why the queen doesn’t like you,” Daehyun muttered, lifting the handbrake.  His concentration was broken almost the instant he put his foot down on the accelerator, though.

“Excuse me,” said the princess, tapping his arm, “but why wouldn’t my mother like Sehun?”

Daehyun glanced nervously between the princess and her bodyguard.  “Her Majesty’s version of what’s best for you is very different to Sehun’s,” he muttered eventually.  “But he’s so good at his job that she doesn’t want to get rid of him.”

Sehun flushed a little and began scanning the landscape again, pretending he hadn’t heard a word.  A flicker of movement by one of the bushes caught his eye.

“You’re really that good?” the princess asked him excitedly, twisting around in her seat and prodding him on the elbow.

Sehun held up a hand briefly to shush her and lifted the gun.  “Daehyun, slow down for a second.  We’re heading straight for the tiger and I need a clear shot.”

“What?”  Daehyun jammed on the brakes immediately, bringing them to a screeching halt so sudden that they were all thrown forward in their seats.  Sehun cursed as his shoulder slammed into the hard plastic of the seat in front of him and his fingers accidentally squeezed the trigger.  The dart missed.

“I said slow down, not stop!”

“Sorry, sorry.  I don’t like tigers.”  Daehyun took his hands away from the steering wheel and sat there, watching Sehun.  The princess turned to her friend too.

“You’re really going to shoot it?” she asked, sounding disappointed, as Sehun loaded another dart into the gun.

“Tranquilise it,” he corrected, propping one knee up on his seat to steady himself.  The tiger was languishing in the shadows, watching them closely.  Sehun scrunched an eye shut, sighting through the scope, and twitched his index finger.

“Is it really necessary?” the princess asked.  “I mean, isn’t it cruel to the tiger?”

Sehun ignored her and opened the chamber to put in a third dart.

“Oh, thank God,” said Daehyun.  “Nice shot.  You got it.”

Somewhat relieved, Sehun glanced up to see that the tiger had indeed collapsed.  Daehyun threw him a glance through the rear view mirror as he revved the engine.

“What?  You trust your skills that little?  You’re the third best sniper in the country, Sehun, come on.”

Apparently, that was even cooler than being able to drive a jeep, because the princess whirled around yet again, eyes sparkling and practically drooling.

“Oh my gosh.  Teach me.”

The whole mess with the intruder took up much more of Sehun’s time than he would have liked.  Once he got back, he first had to report to Yongguk, then to the captain of the guard, and then to the chief of staff, and just when he was in the middle of consulting the palace surgeon, who’d been called in to take a look at the captive (it turned out that the guy had actually been mauled by the tiger, and Sehun’s respect for the animal started to rise), Zelo came running to find him with the news that he’d been summoned by the queen.

“Shouldn’t you be in the stables?” he asked as Zelo hustled him out of the room.

“I had to give a long- report about the state of the horses,” Zelo grouched.  “She told me to send you in after.”

He was whining and looked a little afraid, and Sehun didn’t really blame him: if he hadn’t grown up with the queen as his legal guardian and without the friendship of said woman’s daughter, he would have been terrified of the woman as well.  Not that he wasn’t actually scared of her.

What followed next in the audience hall could only be described as a massive row.  The queen was not happy her daughter had been out.  The queen was not happy her daughter had been riding a horse.  The queen was not happy about the dangers of riding a horse.  The queen was not happy Sehun had tranquilised the tiger (“what did you expect me to do, Your Majesty?”).  The queen was not happy about the hole in the fence.  The queen was not happy about the intruder.  The queen… well, the queen was not happy with life in general, it seemed.  Sehun had had similar sorts of arguments with her before, and it didn’t particularly help that her chief of staff was standing behind the throne and trying desperately not to laugh.

Having reached no satisfactory conclusion because Sehun saw absolutely no point in confining somebody as energetic as the princess indoors, Sehun ended up storming out in a blatant display of disrespect that he knew was going to have his pay cut for the week.  Despite the fact he knew he was skilled, he didn’t understand exactly why the queen kept him so close to her daughter when they butted heads so often.  Perhaps it was because her heart wasn’t quite made of stone and she wanted her daughter to be around at least one person of her own age who wouldn’t take advantage of her.  Perhaps it was because the debt she owed his parents was really that big.  She might not be a terribly pleasant person, but the queen was at least loyal.

“And I want to know what’s going on with that cult by the end of the week!” she bellowed after him as he slammed the enormous gilt doors of the audience hall shut behind him.  Sehun decided he was going to take that week’s day leave of absence tomorrow.  He needed to get away from the palace.

ENDOPLANET

Chen was lost.  The high granite walls of the maze blocked out any natural light and artificial lights were few and far between.  There were no landmarks to speak of, and every turning he took looked identical to the last one.

The place was also stiflingly silent.  No matter whether Chen was trying to tiptoe, or when he finally found a small section of wooden floorboards that looked out of place and stamped on them, his feet made no sound at all.  The only thing he could actually hear was his own breathing.

Utterly, utterly baffled, he sat down against one of the granite walls.  It was cold and unforgiving, but he soon found himself scrambling away from it when a pulse much like the rhythm of a heartbeat ran through it, shocking him and grating against his spine.

Just what was going on?  Chen stared down at his hands.  He wasn’t even sure how he’d got in there in the first place.

Another heartbeat pulsed through the walls.  This time, Chen saw it move and he couldn’t help a shudder.  The place was beginning to warm up, and he didn’t like it.

A third heartbeat.  Chen closed his eyes and swallowed.  I need to get out of here.

This time, the heartbeat ran through the floor as well.  Eyes snapping back open, he jumped to his feet.  Lightning crackled at the tips of his fingers, but Chen forced it back: there was nothing to throw it at.  In the maze, it wasn’t going to help.

And that was when he heard the footsteps.

Chen froze, his heart pounding in his throat and blood turning to ice.  The sound of tough-soled boots slapping against stone echoed all around him; he couldn’t even tell which direction it was coming from.  He took a step forwards and then hesitated.

My feet still aren’t making any sound at all.  He stamped frantically at the ground.  Just what the hell is going on?

As if to cement the sentiment that this was completely worth a freak out, a large red eye suddenly opened on the wall in front of him.  It blinked twice as Chen stared at it, and then narrowed its gaze at him.

Chen bolted the instant light began to gather around it.  He didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t intend to hang around to find out.  Sparks flew off his fingers as he ran, his breathing ragged in his ears, blindly turning at the first intersection he saw.

The footsteps he could hear abruptly picked up in pace and Chen automatically upped his own to a flat-out sprint, casting a fearful glance back over his shoulder.  Nothing was visible in the gloom behind him, but it still didn’t stop the rising panic.

Another intersection loomed up ahead.  Seeing light to his right, Chen took that path.  The amount of pent-up energy in his hands was beginning to make them