The hull of the Fifth Holy Monarch's private vessel creaked and groaned, sending ominous, booming noises through the luxurious corridors of the ship. The Monarch himself, King Manir was walking swiftly towards the rear of the ship, his wife, the Queen Consort Nadik, hurrying after him. In her arms she held their infant son, swaddled in silver cloth.

"Quickly Nadik," said Manir. "We have little time."

They moved faster, the ship shaking as yet another laser bolt hit the shields. The ship was losing power, the emergency systems transferring all available energy into the deflector shields. These however, were rapidly failing, and Manir knew that the game was up.

"Hurry, my dear, through here," he said, resting his hand against a panel on the wall. A door opened, and he ushered Nadik through, anxiously looking down the corridor. He followed his wife through the door, sealing it shut behind him.

They were now standing in a domed room. In the centre of this room was a large white sphere, which hissed open as the Monarch and his Queen approached. Inside, there was a soft piece of padding, and the Queen laid her son down on top of it. The baby gurgled, oblivious to the impending fate, currently blasting away at the shields. A wave of light washed over the child, frightening him a little.

"Oh, my son," said the King, reaching down to stroke his son's head, comforting him. "I'm sorry that we must part, but we have no choice. You must be safe."

Manir pushed a button on the sphere, and it began to seal. Nadik sniffed as her son disappeared from view, but ultimately she knew that he would be safe - a description that could not so easily be applied to herself and her husband.

The sphere rose up from the floor, moving towards the back of the room. The wall opened, giving the King and Queen a look at the stars outside. There was a pop as the sphere passed through the airshell, followed by silence. The sphere began to glow, before it flew off across space, heading for a rather bright star.

"Let's go," said the King. "We'll face them together."

The rain pounded out of the sky, the droplets pinging onto the surface of the sea. It splashed off the wooden deck of the Albatross, as the small fishing boat was flung between the waves. It's captain, Harold Moran grappled at the wheel, trying to get a firm hold on his ship. The wheel spun wildly as the boat careered about in the water. One of the crewmen, Harold couldn't see which, plunged over the side. Harold gritted his teeth and looked straight ahead. He couldn't stop to mourn the poor soul, he had to get the others to shore quickly and safely.

A bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, giving Harold a brief, horrific flash of the sea - the churning waves broiling ahead as he squinted out of the wheelhouse. A radio transceiver sat on a small table, a young man stammering in terror through the microphone. There was no response from the device, but for a harsh crackling, barely audible above the howling wind and booming waves.

"For god's sake!" Harold shouted, as the young radio operator repeated his SOS for the hundredth time. "No one's coming!"

"Get out there and help!" He roared. The young man jumped, looking at the captain of his ship with fear.

"We need every man out there! Hurry!" Harold shouted again. The radio operator leapt up, sprinting out the door and onto the deck.

Harold turned back to the wheel just as a blaze of light shot across the sky. He thought it was another lightning strike, but this idea was dashed when it shot across the sky again, this time travelling in the opposite direction.

"What the blazes is that?" Harold shouted, but his voice was snatched away by the wind, never reaching the ears of his crew. The light zipped to and fro across the clouds, before as if down towards the water. It disappeared behind a tall wave, before reappearing a moment later as the wave broke. Harold could see it a little clearer now, a ball of light, roughly two metres in diameter. It pulsed and throbbed softly as it darted above the froth. As the light drew closer, Harold saw that it was in fact a sphere, solid white with light blazing from within. As it hovered above the deck, the light faded to a soft, ebbing, milky glow.

Harold was not a religious man, not by any definition of the term, but he was captivated by this orb which seemed to have descended from the very heavens which churned so angrily above him now. The orb touched down on the deck without a noise and disappeared.

Harold's vision went dark momentarily, as his eyes adjusted to the sudden absence of light. As the deck in front of the wheelhouse gradually reappeared to Harold, his eyes were drawn to a small bundle of cloth that lay on the deck where the orb had been just before.

Harold reached for the lever which would lock the ship's wheel into place, a loud thunk sounding as the mechanism took hold. Harold turned and ran out the doors, his boots slipping on the deck. He ignored the shouts of his shipmates, and staggered around the wheelhouse towards the spot where the orb had been. There! Harold approached the small bundle, crouching down as the boat pitched across a wave. Harold fell back, rolling a little ways across the deck. He got up, moving back towards the bundle. He scooped it up, and ran back to the wheelhouse.

Harold set the bundle down on the same table upon which the radio equipment sat. The material was a shiny silver colour, and Harold found it to be soft to the touch. He reached out and pulled the bundle open. Harold gasped as the folds fell away.

A baby lay in the silver cloth, little more than a newborn. He looked terrified, his big wet eyes open wide and flitting across the room. Harold's mouth hung open as the baby began crying. The little boy bawled and wailed, his new environment hardly being the most calming.

"Moran!" Harold heard somebody shouting. He ignored the voice, enraptured by the child before him. Truly this must be some kind of miracle.

There was a terrible cracking noise, and a lurch of the boat. Harold quickly wrapped the baby up again, looking up through the window of the cabin. An array of jagged rocks lay ahead, illuminated briefly by a flash of lightning. Harold stood frozen - there was no time to do anything.

The boat ran aground, it's hull splintering away to nothing.

Helen Moran ran across the slippery rocks, screaming for her husband. She almost lost her footing, but she managed to right herself at the last moment. The wreckage of her husband's ship lay around twenty metres away, but it might as well have been fifty - Helen could simply not get herself there quick enough.

Helen hauled herself over the side rail of the Albatross, her eyes flitting frantically across the deck. She covered her mouth and sobbed - there were so many bodies. She looked for her husband's yellow coat, but there was no sign of him. That was no consolation: she knew exactly where she was going to find him.

The door to the wheelhouse was hanging open, the door swaying a little in the wind. The deck was slick with rainwater, and Helen had to grab the door frame to stop herself from falling - the ship was at somewhat of an angle. She screamed as her eyes fell on the body of her husband, a pool of blood forming around his head. His glassy eyes were open, staring into space.

"Harold," Helen sobbed as she fell beside his body. "Harold, please, wake up!"

Tears mixed with the rainwater on Helen's face as she reached over, closing Harold's eyes. She rested her head on Harold's chest, sobbing even stronger than before.

Something was moving underneath Harold's coat. Helen's heart hammered in her chest as she sat back, reaching for the zip. She pulled the side of the coat back, revealing a shimmering silver cloth. Helen gasped as she opened it out, laying bare the mewling babe within. The child looked terrified, but he seemed to focus on Helen.

"Oh my god," she breathed. She'd stopped crying now - too shocked to cry. She lifted the baby boy, swaddling him in the silvery cloth and hugging him to her chest. The poor thing must have been nearly frozen - she had to get him back to the house.

Helen managed to get back over the rail of the Albatross and across the rocks without slipping. As she ran up the wet road to her home, the baby began to cry, and Helen rocked him a little. He quieted a little as Helen made it into her kitchen, breathless not from the run, but from the varying emotions within her. She set the baby on the kitchen table, unfolding the cloth and looking down at the baby. He yawned, his little eyes beginning to close over.

"What on earth am I going to do with you?" she muttered.

A/N: Please leave a review, it helps so much to keep me writing. If you're enjoying the story so far, please follow/favourite. :-)