There was a light through the darkness.
One light, a tiny speck of hope that expanded into a column, which grew into a door. A person stepped into it, casting their shadow, inky black against the blinding color.
Deep within the black stone pit, Lillian stirred, squinting up at the unfamiliar brightness. Her sore limbs, stiff from laying still for so long, creaked and groaned as she got to her knees.
“Who’s there?” she cried out, her voice thin and treble.
“That is not for you to know or ask. You are only to obey what I tell you.”
It was a man’s voice. Lillian shivered involuntarily, her frail body weak with cold, and hunger.
He tossed down a bundle. It landed with a soft ‘thwop’ beside her.
“Put these on.”
Lillian did as she was told, dawning the soft gray tunic and leggings. They were warm, and through her suspicions, she was grateful.
The man bent down, and she heard a metallic banging. A latter unfurled.
“Now come,” the man said, “and don’t try anything.”
Wondering what she was expected to have tried, Lillian acceded up to the platform. Her summoner was in his mid-fifties, his hair liberally streaked with gray. His face was lined, his brows thick, and he was wearing an official guard uniform.
There was a weapon, a aerodynamic rifle, strapped into his belt. His hand strayed to it as he
watched her.
“Where are we going?”
“You have been ordered to appear before the High Priestess.”
Lillian frowned. This didn’t bode well. The High Priestess was a cruel, merciless dictator, using the church’s power to fuel her own well-being.
Lillian had been arrested leading a mission against her, six months ago.
However, she complied, allowing herself to be led down the corridors, and up several flights of stairs. She kept an eye out for possible escape routes, by habit more than conscious thought.
The High Priestess's throne room was a cold, empty rectangle. The symbol of the church, a sword piercing the heart of a deer, was intricately embroidered onto a large tapestry, hung on the wall behind the throne, on which she sat.
“Leave us.” she said to Lillian’s guard, who complied instantly, shutting the door with a resonating ‘shud.’
“Come.” she said to Lillian, her voice as cold and hollow as the chamber.
Lillian stood before her, studying her appearance. She was sitting strait in her chair, her dress black with long sleeves, and a low neckline. Her cheekbones were high, and her eyes were steely gray. Her hair was a mixture of pale blond, and white, and she appeared to be in her mid-sixties. She looked proud, and imperious.
“So... I speak to you at last, Lillian Brighten of the Rebel resistance force; code name: Rosette squad nine, mission fifteen.”
Lillian gasped. How did this woman know the details? Had one of her fellows told? Given in to the torture they had all been submitted to?
“Who else do you have?” Lillian whispered, her voice echoing.
The High Priestess gave an icy smile. It was an evil thing, there was no joy in it at all, only spite. “Lucille. Teth. Adam, Markle, Starla, Jofi... Asher.” She listed off their code names.
Lillian felt dizzy. Asher! If she had him, their mission had been a failure. It had been his job to relay the information they gathered back to the Rebel base. Her knees dissolved, and she sunk to the floor.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, looking up at the Priestess with loathing, more than actual fear.
“I want the name of the president. The Rebel president. The one in charge of it all.”
“But that’s me! Of course, and you know that!”
The Priestess shook her head.
“No. You’re just in charge of squad nine. I want to know who’s behind everything. Who is organizing it all?”
“Doreth.” said Lillian, stating the code name of her leader, which was common knowledge among the general public. Maybe, if she pretended to be stupid, the Priestess would give up.
Instead, the priestess pushed a little button on the side of her chair. The guard reentered abruptly.
“Take her back to her cell, and interrogate her further....” Seemingly as an afterthought, she added, “But make sure, when you’re done, she still has the ability to speak...”
Lillian was marched from the room. Frail as she was, she had no intention of going back to her cell. The doors were guarded only by two officers, that plus her own, it would be three against one.
She had fought her way out of worse.
Of course, that was when she was stronger, before being locked in a dark cell for six months, surviving on next to nothing.
What was there left to lose, she thought, thinking of Asher.
They were drawing nearer to the doors. They were glass, and she could see landscape behind them, taunting her.
Without another thought, Lillian elbowed the guard hard in the stomach. He folded, stunned, and fumbled for his weapon, but by that time, Lillian was at the door. She tripped one guard, then the next, and was through the doors before they had time to untangle themselves. However, it was an inevitability that they would eventually get up, and make chase.
She ran as fast as she could, skipping across the ground. She risked a glance over her shoulder, and saw a guard , alarmingly close behind her, rifle cocked.
A bullet of some type whizzed past her ear. Lillian heard another shot, then a bright pain erupted in her back. She reached around, and pulled out a drugged dart.
Figures, she thought. They want me alive.
Even as she felt the effects of the tranquilizer seep through her, Lillian kept running. There was a canal ahead of her, and maybe... Just maybe, if she could get to it....
By some stroke of luck, she reached it. A boat was approaching at high speed, an open-topped speeder powered by a small electric motor, and an orange sail.
Without thinking, Lillian hurled herself over the railing, for a single terrifying second, she thought she was going to miss, before she landed heavily in the schooner, making it rock.
As the canal curved around a bend, she saw the palace disappear from sight.
She heard a voice, sounding as if it were coming from underwater. It was a man’s voice, with a rough, heavy Italian accent.
“What the Hell do you think you’re doing on my boat?”
“I will pay you... in full...” Lillian gasped. “Two million lira.”
Then, entrusting her fate to an angered fishermen, she slipped under.
To be continued..... lol 
Instead of doing what I am doing with Koani and the bandits, I think I'll just post the rest here. Be harsh, please, critiques! 
Its a work in progress, lol.
By the way, its pg-13 because I'm not sure what will come of it.
