Moonshot

"It's hard to leave traditions behind." Hoff finished searching the last body and held out a laser sidearm. "Please conserve your energy, highness—there will be too many to stop with magic alone."

She took it and nodded her thanks. "No alarms yet, but that surely won't last. Do you have a sense of where we are in this place?"

"Somewhat."

"I guess you're leading, then." Ilsa checked the gun's charge, judged her fatigue level. "I'm ready when you are."

"Stay close, highness. If I tell you to run, to save yourself..."

"You know I never will." Ilsa followed Hoff towards the door for a single pace, then stopped. "One last thing, Hoff?"

"Yes, highness?"

"We've got to get your armor back. But I'd very much like to see you out of it a little more often."

"Certainly, highness." She saw the shy smile break through his stone-faced concentration. "I would enjoy that as well."

"I'll hold you to that the instant we're back in orbit. Lead the way."