Chapter Text
It had taken a little less than six minutes. They had scaled the black basalt rocks, then the walls of the Fountain Palace -- something that the cliffside building was supposed to prevent anyone and anything from doing -- and there had been eight of them. They were all Hapan, dressed from head-to-toe in matte black and they each had an objective. Two would go get the girl, three would hold the Queen Mother, one would lock the main door of the chambers then destroy the control panel and the last two would find their way into the palace's security system and keep certain alarms from tripping. The last two already had their job done by the time they made it to the balcony of the royal chambers and pried the door open.
The Queen Mother had already been out of her bed, sensing something outside, but the three who were supposed to hold her were faster than she was. And where was she going to run? She wouldn't leave her daughter. She did scream at the top of her lungs though, and she yelled at them, spit at them -- she almost used her Force powers on them. One of the three assigned to her had planned for that though and pulled a needle out of a pouch at their side. Some concoction of a tranquilizer and ysalamiri blood. She couldn't fight back physically and she couldn't use the Force after that.
She had already grown drowsy by the time the two who were assigned to get the girl came out of the back hallway, one with a small, still body dressed in blue sleepwear in his arms. The Queen Mother remembered screaming, trying to tell them to stop, trying to shriek loud enough for someone to hear her. And she remembered watching her daughter's peaceful face disappearing over the railing of the balcony as the first one left her chambers to climb down. She remembered watching two more in some sort of goggles begin to vault over the railing and climb down and then she remembered nothing as one of them punched her and another let go of her as she fell to the floor.
The palace guards blew the door open and found the Queen Mother on the carpet near her bed, passed out, her cream-colored nightgown torn in places and a welt forming on her left bicep where the needle had stabbed her.
When she had woken up in the palace infirmary, she could only repeat in a hoarse whisper. "Get Allana. They have Allana, please. Find her. Find her."