'Where did you get that?' Noel asked his wife of fifteen years as he stepped into their small apartment.

'I found it,' Teresa answered easily. An ecstatic smile covered her face, 'isn't it just the most adorable thing you've ever seen?'

'Terry,' shaking his head, Noel sighed. 'I know you've wanted one for years,' astounded, he stopped dead, wondering just how to say they had to take the tiny thing back.

'Please tell me we can keep her!' big brown eyes pleaded.

'I don't see how,' anxious now, the portly man rubbed his chin, 'she must belong to someone.'

'Even if she does,' Teresa stated calmly, holding the object out to her husband, 'in these days of uncertainty, she might have been abandoned or the family killed. Someone has to take care of her, she'd so tiny and defenceless. It might as well be us.'

Once again shaking his head, Noel Forrester thought back through the years of their marriage. Wed in St Andrew's Baptist Church, Memphis, Tennessee when there'd been individual countries, they thought life difficult. Over population caused the first decades of the twenty second century to become called The Great Famine, followed by The Death Years of the twenties and thirties. Food, water, power and housing all in short supply the developed countries first waged economic war with sanctions and hording. Millions died each day, decimating the population of impoverished nations. Powerless to stop it, the UN disbanded. Without proper sanitation a world plague quickly ensued, wiping out almost a third of the Earth's population before a cure could be found. Finally the political posturing ceased and the remainder of the Human race began to recover.

Noel and Teresa grew up with constant loss of friend and family. They'd found each other in spite of the bereavement still surrounding them in the fifties. By 2160 things had started to resemble a peaceful existence and they'd wed. Three years into their marriage, the first wave of Gamalon Attack craft had been spotted by a remote satellite on the outer perimeter of the solar system.

Not that we knew it at the time, Noel remembered, the Earth, barely recovered, had little in the way of spacefaring technology. All our effort went into fighting ourselves in the first half of the twenty second century. A few scientist demanded resources to explore our solar system in the hope of finding raw materials to keep this plundered planet alive. That alone allowed the newly created World Council to give them limited funding. The businessmen built an entertainment complex on the moon, interested in profits over finding new habitats for humanity. Inadvertently, they've led us to the current state of affairs, with planet bombs raining down on our world, slowly destroying the Earth.

'Terry,' walking over to the couch, Noel fell into the soft fux-leather. The bundle of golden hair peaked out through the blanket in his arms. 'We have to report this to the authorities.'

'Why,' she cried, 'when it's all we've wanted for years now.'

'It's the right thing to do,' he explained. 'I know you've wanted a child of our own. I'm sorry my exposure to the early planet bombs left us unable to have a baby.' They started falling on the Earth five years ago. Noel, a lecturer in geology had been asked for his expert opinion on the strange phenomena. The new and deadly form of radioactivity within the meteorites discovered after several scientists became exposed. Then they understood the despicable tactics of their new enemy.

'If we hadn't waited all those years,' Teresa lamented. Like many, they delayed having children to be in a better emotional and economic position. The world, changing around them, became an uncertain place as more about the Gamalons became public knowledge.

'Taking this little girl, even if she is an orphan,' Noel handed the infant to his wife, getting up from his chair, 'isn't up to us. The authorities need to establish if her family is still alive. Can you imagine if this were your daughter, lost after the latest round of planet bombs?'

Leaving her in tears, Noel placed the call.

'Do not cry, my beloved,' Eaton transfused down the open connection to his bond mate, 'all is as it should be.'

'I know,' she replied, unable to completely divorce her emotions from her duty. 'It is I who made this possible. This child, she will be needed. The universe asks that I do this, and I cannot deny a force greater than myself.'

'Yet we do not know why such sacrifices have been asked of our people, of us' he returned, calm on the exterior but confused internally. 'What of our other daughter?' he couldn't stop the question.

Regret coloured his thoughts. When he bonded with the woman who'd one day rule Iscandar, Eaton knew his life would change. After many years, they'd both known the time to produce an heir approached. Starsha, their firstborn now ruled in their place. Sasha's energy faded as the plague extinguished one life after another on their home world. Astra, their third daughter survived to keep her older sister company.

Smiling, Cosma looked into the stars passing the observation window of their spaceship. 'She is a thriving young woman now. One day Trelana will achieve grate things for her planet. I feel her through the energy of the universe.'

'And Nova?' Eton requested.

'Has a destiny,' Cosma once again felt the tears welling in her light brown eyes. 'Her path in this world will not be easy or uncomplicated. Humans are not open to the great flow of power which surrounds them so she will remain un-awakened. Either Iscandar must reach out to her, to provide her with the potential or Nova must meet her sisters.'