Anya fidgeted anxiously in her seat as the Headmistress climbed up the steps to the podium. She secretly thought she had never seen an uglier woman. She was fat and had multiple chins, and to make matters worse, she wore a short dress that revealed most of her legs. They were enclosed in fishnet panty hose, which didn't look very attractive either. Her face looked clownish, it was so smothered in makeup. Her cheeks were as red as over-ripe apples, and the area around her eyes was covered in garish blue powder. A mass of extremely curly red hair was piled on top os her head. She parted her bright pink lips and gave her audience a sickeningly sweet smile, displaying perfectly even teeth bleached a brilliant white. Anya winced. Behind her, she heard Jet mutter, "What a lovely principal you have, dollface."

Anya turned to look at him. "Isn't she charming?"

"She kinda makes my eyes hurt," said Jet, smiling grimly.

Lowering her voice, Anya asked, "When do we make our escape?"

Jet grinned. "Well, I've made a lot of escapes in my sixteen years; and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the more dramatic you make it, the better." He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then whispered, "We'll cut out of here right after she orders the guards to grab you."

"What if I'm not fast enough?" asked Anya. She liked the idea of making a dramatic escape but wasn't sure if she could pull it off.

Jet flicked his blond hair to the side. "Then I'll just have to beat them up."

"You think you can take on all of them?" asked Anya dubiously. There were six guards in all, three men and three women; all of them young and strong-looking. They wore tight-fitting black leather suits, and each of them carried a laser pistol on their right hip and a sword on their left.

"Those guys?" Jet smirked. "I've tangled with people a lot bigger than them in my day." He ruffled her hair. "Don't you worry, kiddo. Just follow my lead."

Anya glared at him and hurriedly smoothed down her auburn locks. The Headmistress, having finished arranging the papers in front of her, began speaking.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she said in a honey-dripped voice, "you have been called here today so that we may inform you of a matter which is of the utmost importance to the well-being of your daughters who are enrolled here at the Silver City Academy for Girls." She smiled ingratiatingly. "As you all know, here at the Academy we believe that it is our responsibility to train young ladies to be good wives and mothers and produce many children to further the population of our great Empire--"

Anya grimaced and felt her ears and cheeks grow warm. She heard Jet snicker and fervently thanked her stars that he could only see the back of her head.

"--or to serve Her Most Excellent Majesty, Queen Morwenna VIII, as civil servants or officers in her military, if so they choose."

Anya barely suppressed a snort. The word choose was not in Queen Morwenna's vocabulary. People were assigned jobs whether they liked them or not.

"It is therefore also our responsibility," the Headmistress continued, "to suppress rebellion and insubordination in our school and gently chastise those responsible."

Finally she's getting to the point, Anya thought. She glanced back at Jet, and he nodded reassuringly.

"A certain young lady has been encouraging the aforesaid abominable acts of rebellion and insubordination, causing unrest and discontent among the students of the Academy, and poisoning the innocent minds of these impressionable young children."

A small girl in the audience stuck out her little pink tongue defiantly at the Headmistress.

She continued speaking, but her tone was somewhat less sweet now. "It has always been our policy here at the Academy to deal swiftly and precisely with young rebels such as her. We cannot tolerate insurgence in our school, so though it pains us to do so--"

Yeah, right, Anya thought. You love every minute of it.

"--we are going to have this particular young lady . . . relocated."

A shudder rippled through the younger listeners in the auditorium. No one except Jet and Anya knew for sure what "relocated" meant, but rumors about the fate of "relocated" girls were as varied as the people who started them. Everything from a simple visit to the Headmistress's office to execution was suspected.

"Guards," said the Headmistress in a cold voice that was completely different from the sugary one she had started out with, "apprehend Anya Brightsphere."

To be continued . . . [i]