The whole planet of Tamaran was in a uproar for the whole week. All the people talked about was that the King was going to be at the Lord's Courthouse, and the day had finally came. The press spaced themselves around the bright and crowded auditorium. The boss, which was assumed to be the boy yelling out the orders, look as though he was 18 and as though he wouldn't have that job if there was school on Tamaran. The man was wearing a hat which read, "Tamarian Press" in brightly gold colors with the traditional Tamarian clothing on.

People were crowding around the autiorium all with one thing in common. They were waiting for one man to get there, the King. The light's went off in the whole auditorium, and then came back on again. Then, a big cheer started which signalled only one thing, The king was in the building.

Flashes filled the room from the reporter's camera as he walked in through the push-door. He was an enormous man which was about 10 feet tall, and he was the only one that didn't wear the clothing of Tamaran. He wore a barbaric outfit which showed absolutely none of his body. It was bright brown which look like it was made from some kind of space animal. As he walked down to the stage, so many people were crowding him that few people in the back could actually see him. When he arrived at the auditorium, he insisted that none of his guards try to surround him. He said that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if anyone was hurt, say if someone was trying to kill him. Besides, all of his guards couldn't match up to the power of his own. As he walked up to the stage, he couldn't help but smile.

For it was because he was going to finally declare peace with the alien planet that neighbored them in the star system, the planet named Citadel. During the long ten year war, it looked like Citadel was going to defeat Tamaran, but the Citadel planet was starting to run out of troops. Tamaran had won the last five battles that they have fought against Citadel, so Citadel was asking for a treaty for the last few months of the war. It looks as though they were finally going to get it.

As he walked up the steps, which were pure diamond so it wouldn't break under the tremendous weight of the King, he still had the same smile that he wore when he arrived. The King of Tamaran was not the only one with a smile on his face, thought, for there was one on the face of the boss of the reporters face. It was because he had somewhat different intentions for the King. As the smirk filled his face, he began for the door. As he fought his way through the crowd, he finally reached the railing of the door. As he opened the door, one of his assistants pushed the door closed. "What are you doing!" the assistant yelled so he would be heard upon the voices of many, "The King is about to speak, you just can't leave!" The boy turned around to his assistant, a glare replacing the smirk that he had on his face, "It's important." The boy said in a calm, collected voice. After saying that, he pushed the man aside and walked through the exit. "It damn well be!" the assistant yelled as the boy left through the door.

That was the last time anyone ever saw the boy, who claimed to be a reporter named Curtis Brown, ever again.

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