THE FATE OF AMARA
By Elle Wittimer
[EXCERPT FROM REBELGUNNER]
AFTER A RECORD-BREAKING MONTH AT THE box office, Starfield has captured the hearts and minds of legions of fans worldwide, rocketing its young leads, Darien Freeman and Jessica Stone, to superstardom. Soon after the announcement of its third consecutive week in the #1 spot, the studio revealed plans for a sequel, to the surprise of no one who enjoys money.
Now, rumors are beginning to circulate: Who could the villain be in the sequel? Which new lucky lady will capture the Federation Prince Carmindor's heart? Jessica Stone has been silent about any sort of obligation to reprise her role as Princess Amara, and for those of us who have seen Starfield, we know this to be a near impossibility anyway.
The cast will come together for the first time since the success of Starfield, gathering at the twenty-fifth annual ExcelsiCon for panels, interviews, and meet-and-greets. The director, Amon Wilkins, will reveal the title of the sequel (and perhaps even our villain!) over the course of the sci-fi convention.
But as Starfield goes on, and the story continues where the television show left off, what does this mean for the legacy of Amara?
And what will Starfield be without our princess?
"Is that how you greet your new ruler? With a pistol and a sassy catchphrase?"
—Princess Amara, Episode 13, The Queen of Nothing
Princess Amara is dead.
In a perfect universe, I wouldn't care. My character dies a noble and brilliant death at the end of Starfield, when she rams her spaceship into the Black Nebula (which is more like a black hole, but whatever) to save her one true love, the dreamy Federation Prince Carmindor.
In a perfect universe, I would've cashed my check and used Starfield as a springboard to more Oscar-worthy roles. Roles that mean something, roles that tell invaluable stories, that aren't me looking hot in a suffocating dress while running in heels.
In a perfect universe, I would be happy.
But this universe is not perfect and neither am I, although I've tried to be. I've tried so, so hard. And it all might be for nothing.
Because today I made three unforgivable mistakes.
The first one:
During a presser (a presser is basically a marathon of filmed interviews with different media outlets back to back to back . . . I can usually endure them for hours, but these nerd ones are a different beast entirely. How I long for questions about Darien Freeman's new diet or my glittery pumps), held in a small room in a hotel, I accidentally let this slip:
"I certainly hope Amara doesn't come back."
Which, I know.
The interviewer had been coming for blood for the past thirty minutes, poking and prodding at our airtight answers until something had to give, and the bright lights were giving me a headache.
So of course it was me who slipped first.
I wasn't paying attention. For hours Dare—Darien Freeman, my costar—had been entertaining the interviewers. He lived and breathed Starfield—he was a fanboy before he became Prince Carmindor, and that's stellar publicity. The world eats it up. It's adorable.
What's decidedly less adorable is Princess Amara, poor dead Princess Amara, played by a girl who's never even seen the show.
I don't make good press fodder.
Or, at least, I didn't think I did.