Chapter 1

The queen stood motionless for several minutes as the transport ship that had left her there rocketed away. She watched silently as the insignia of Derse vanished into the clouds for the last time, taking with it any chance of returning to the only home she had ever known. Violent wind whipped multicolored sands into her legs and face, but she made no move to pull up her hood. She wanted to rip these rags off of her body and kill the swine that forced them upon her. She wanted to destroy every last Dersite involved in her exile. She wanted to rip her husband limb from limb, to flay the shell from Noir's body, to pull out his friends' fingers one by one…

But instead she just screamed. She felt her knees collide with the sand as she screamed her throat raw and clawed her face, only stopping when she tasted blood. She sat there for a moment, shaking, the taste of copper heavy on her tongue, trying to catch her breath.

Getting slowly to her feet, a wave of disgust washed over her. Banished and quasi-royal as she might now be, she was still a queen, and this was no way for a queen to act. She took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. Time to put her strategic training to work. Looking around, she tried to get her bearings in this despicable wasteland of a planet. There were no discernable landmarks that she could see. Not from this vantage point anyway. Just miles and miles and fucking miles of this ridiculous rainbow sand.

As her rage ebbed, she became more and more acutely aware of the fact that she was not only banished from her kingdom, she was stranded in the middle of a barren wasteland with no food, water, or shelter, and night was fast approaching. If there were any supplies to be found in this desert they sure as hell weren't here. The only thing she could do now was walk and hope she ended up somewhere eventually.

Glancing around, she noticed some bigger sand dunes on the horizon. If nothing else she would be able to see farther from on top of them. Brushing sand off of her limp, grey wrappings, she pulled the hood over her head and began to walk.

She had been walking for three hours when the sun finally began to set. Staggering to a halt, she squinted at the shrinking sliver of light quickly slipping behind the dunes. There was no chance of finding any kind of sustenance tonight.

Spotting a small cluster of boulders a few feet away, she dragged herself towards them and wearily sat down. She wanted so badly to lie down, but even with her practically nonexistent survival skills, she knew she could get lost in an instant without leaving some kind of marking of the direction she was going. She took a deep breath and pushed herself to her knees. Gathering the last of her strength, threw her weight against one of the more oblong rocks, swiveling it until it pointed obviously in the direction she had been walking.

She collapsed into the sand and scooted up against the rock, propping herself up. She cast her eyes upward, listlessly staring at the unfamiliar sky of her new home.

It was rather beautiful she had to admit. Two mismatched moons floated in the darkening sky, casting a strange pink and green glow over the desert. After a moment she turned her gaze to the blackness that hung like a veil around them. She couldn't help but feel homesick as she gazed into the unreachable darkness that hid her planet.

Derse is somewhere out there, she found herself thinking. Somewhere in all that darkness, my kingdom is waiting.

A pang of anger and sadness shot through her as she thought about how distant it was, how remote.

Whether they know it or not, they're waiting for me. They need me.

She tore her eyes from the cruel reminder of her former life and turned over, shivering as the temperature slowly dropped. It wasn't really cold, but after being out in the blazing hellfire that this planet calls a sun all day, anything less than utterly boiling was chilly.

I have to get back. Somehow I have to get back. I will get back and then they'll all see…

Her thought dwindled off. What would they see? What would she show them that would so fill them with regret for her exile? Would she unleash the full scope of her royal wrath upon them? Torture them all until they took back every word, every false accusation, every treasonous thought? And what good would that do exactly? She gritted her teeth, grudgingly realizing the pointlessness of her own rage. If she wanted to make things right, she had to keep a clear head.

Think. What is really important right now? You're still a queen dammit, prioritize. What is important in this moment?

She began silently listing: 1) Food, water, and shelter. 2) Finding or building some kind of civilization on this forsaken rock. 3) Returning to and protecting Derse. 4) Making Jack Noir's life a living hell.

She couldn't help but grin a little to herself at the last one. Okay so maybe that one wasn't strictly vital, but it would make for some enjoyable extra credit.

The knot of panic and anxiety in the pit of her stomach began to loosen as she thought through her list.

Baby steps, she thought. One step at a time is the best way to handle this. I'm going to make it back. Number one, survival. Number two, civilization. Number three…

Reassured by her new plan of action, she ran over this list again and again in her head, eventually drifting to sleep.

She awoke sometime just before midday, judging by the position of the blazing sun that woke her, and set out immediately. It felt strange to be sleeping through the darkness that she'd lived her whole life in, and being out and about in the light, but the nights here were really too dark and the desert to vast to make navigating it practical. Even with the light of the two moons, she didn't want to risk getting turned around on accident and expending precious energy wandering in circles.

Luckily hunger and thirst had yet to really set in, but she knew it wouldn't be long now. In many ways, carapacian royalty were built stronger than their pawns-they had thicker carapace, stronger bodies, and more effective claws to protect themselves in battle – but survival was one thing their bodies were not well adapted for. After being used to the luxuries of life at the castle, she didn't want to think about how quickly her body would start to shut down without proper care.

The exile of a royal was a relatively rare occurrence in the game, so their bodies were ultimately designed more for the purpose of looking intimidating and fighting effectively than survival. This was just another one of those things she knew inherently, without having to be told; her body was physically strong, but very much without adaptability.

Not that she really had to be worried about that just yet. She wasn't going to expire after a single day in the desert-she wasn't quite that fragile-but it was a serious concern. Another 4 or 5 days out here and things would start getting grim, and as of yet there was no sign of civilization or supplies.

Waving these thoughts away, she trudged on. She couldn't afford to lose her focus. She had to keep going.

By the end of the day she had still found nothing and gotten nowhere. As the sun slipped once again beneath the horizon, she eyed the outline of the dunes that she had made her compass. They still seemed so distant…The pit of her stomach dropped a little thinking about the long walk still ahead of her. She was so tired – and not in ways that sleep could cure either. She shut her eyes and rested fitfully through the night.

It was another two days until she finally arrived at the bottom of the dunes she that had served as her guiding light during her exile. Staggering up to the huge hill of sand, weak and weary from hunger, thirst, and outright exhaustion, she set herself immediately to the task of clambering to the top. As the sun set for the 4th time since arriving on this rock, she felt a small seed of hope taking root in her stomach.

There has to be at least remnants of a civilization somewhere. Please be close. Please for the love of gods…

Dragging herself over the top of the dune, she crumbled to her knees for a moment, breathing hard. It had been a lot steeper than she actually expected it to be. Catching her breath, she made no move to stand or look up, eyes fixed on the sand underneath her. If she was met with an empty horizon she had no idea what she would do or how she would survive. Finally she tensed, steeling herself for whatever she might see, and looked up.

Nothing.

Her stomach lurched and her stinging throat went dry. Nothing. No sign of any kind of building or civilization as far as the eye could see. No ruins, no dilapidated shacks; just sand stretching infinitely in all directions. She snapped her head around to check the direction she had just come from. Still nothing. She got shakily to her feet.

No. There has to be something.

She turned in unsteady circles, glancing over all the horizon lines again and again as if with one more turn she could make a crumbling city appear. This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening…

For the second time in her life (and incidentally in this desert as well) her composure completely and utterly snapped.

"THERE WAS A PLANET FULL OF PEOPLE HERE ONCE!" she screamed to the silent wasteland. "THEY MUST HAVE LEFT SOMETHING BEHIND! ANYTHING!"

She stumbled backwards and, foot sinking into the sand, pitched over the edge of the sand dune onto her back. Before she had time to register what was happening, she was plunging down the opposite side of the sand bank. Instinctually squeezing her eyes shut, she clawed at the sand as she tumbled down, searching desperately for purchase. She had almost reached the bottom when her hand struck something solid – solid and very painful. She stopped scrabbling for a handhold and grabbed her wrist, her mouth falling open in a silent shriek of pain. Finally she slowed to a stop at the bottom of the dune.

She lay there for a minute, boiling with rage and feeling vaguely nauseous, unsure of whether she was feeling more angry or humiliated. They were at about a tie, she decided grudgingly, pulling herself to her feet and spitting sand from her mouth. Her knees shook and her hand throbbed but she couldn't stand the thought of sitting uselessly for another moment. She inspected her injured hand, searching out cracks and tears in the carapace. There was a small fracture just by her thumb, but nothing too life threatening. It would heal in a day or so.

At least my body will be whole and unblemished when I starve to death.

Peering through the vortexes of sand her fall had stirred up, she spotted the thing that had caught her hand. A metal panel poked out of the sand, glinting dully in the weakening sun. She squinted at it, waiting for the thick, grimy fog in the air around her to settle. It looked as if it was attached to something larger. Some kind of storage unit perhaps? Her heart leapt. Steadying herself once more, she trudged part way back up the dune to reach it.

She knelt by the large chunk of metal, careful to keep her footing in the sand this time. Now being so close to it, she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before. A sizable chunk poked out of the side of the dune, enough to comfortably stand on; it was by no stretch of the imagination hidden. She brushed some excess sand off the top and knocked twice on the solid metal. It echoed dully.

She bit her lip, not wanting to get her hopes up too much. Hollow could mean anything. It could mean a store of food and supplies, but it could also just be some kind of bank vault, or a blown off piece of a building. For all she knew there might already be people taking shelter inside, and she had a feeling that if she ran into any Dersites she had exiled, they would be less than pleased to see her. She had to keep her head about this.

Scooping away as much loose sand as she could, she quickly uncovered a wide, round nodule in the center of the container, topped with a green spirograph, the symbol of Skaia. Could it be?

She pressed her hand onto the nodule, not entirely sure of what else to do. There didn't appear to be any kind of handle or latch to pull. To her surprise, it clicked and loosened under her palm. She started, not expecting it to open so easily, then jammed her nails under the surprisingly light metal covering and flipped it open, revealing a ladder that led down into a dark room.

She stared down the hole for a moment, dumbstruck. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned over and called down the shaft.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Is anyone in here?"

Still no answer.

Her hands shook slightly, from both anticipation and exhaustion in equal parts, as she took hold of the ladder handles. If this was what she thought it was, it meant beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was saved. But it also meant that her fate in this game, the role she was meant to play in this universe, was drastically different than what she had ever expected. Lowering herself into the hole, she clambered nimbly down the ladder.

The air around her had dropped at least 15 degrees as she descended. Her muscles remained tense, ready to spring into action in the unlikely event that someone else had stumbled across the nodule before her and did not take kindly to visitors. Almost before she even touched the ground, she whirled around, ready to defend herself against any disgruntled Dersites or territorial Prospitians. The room was utterly devoid of life.

But, she noted as she relaxed her posture, it was in no way empty.

The inside of this nondescript metal container was lined with high tech machinery and electronics, practically brimming with computers more sophisticated than anything she had seen in the growth and birthing centers on Derse even. She stared around the expansive chamber, eyes wide. Her guess had been confirmed: she had stumbled across an exile command center.

She swept over to the control deck that was situated against the wall to her right, as it was obviously intended to be the centerpiece of the room. She ran her fingers over the metal keys, looking up at the 12 screens that crowned the mess of wires and machinery. Two of the screens were lit with a dull grey glow, but the rest stared blankly into the room, black and lifeless.

Surveying them intently, she couldn't help but wonder why she had been brought here of all places. Never in all her life had she expected to see the inside of a command laboratory. She had known they were an integral part of the game of course, but being the queen, she had expected her command to be more direct, dictating action from the throne or even, in the case of her king somehow put out of action, fighting on the battlefield herself. Guiding the players was not a path she had even hypothetically explored. She wracked her brain for any stored information on how the command terminal was meant to be used. Nothing.

She couldn't help but think, as she surveyed the massive system before her, that it was extremely odd for her not to have been imbued with any knowledge of how to carry out a task the game had known all along she would have to undertake. Perhaps it was a mistake of programming? Or a necessity of fate that she figure this step out entirely on her own?

Taking care to avoid the large, green arrow emblazoned button that stuck awkwardly off of the rest of the keyboard, she tapped the enter key. Two things happened simultaneously: both of the glowing screens flickered to life, each displaying a video feed of a different young girl, and small door swung open somewhere behind her. She turned, looking for the source of the clattering noise. Some kind of containment unit affixed to the wall had opened, revealing a store of cans, which, if the fading labels were correct, seemed to contain an array of foods. Immediately forgetting the screens and their mysterious content, she fell ravenously upon the food, tearing open the cans with her claws. How long had it been since she'd last eaten. 3 days? 4? It felt like so much longer.

After a few minutes she slowed down and, can in hand, returned to the control deck. The two dimly glowing screens had come to life, each displaying a different girl sitting in her bedroom. Two of the players, she presumed, if she was in fact in an exile terminal as she had guessed.

She watched them go about their business for some time. She supposed she should try to talk to them? It made her uncomfortable to even think about venturing into territory she hadn't even a vague peripheral knowledge of. But if there was one thing she knew, it was that the game's will was stronger than that of any individual component of it. Brushing crumbs from her garment, she pushed herself to her feet and strode somewhat nervously to the control deck. The soft electronic lights pulsed gently at her, looming all the way up to the ceiling.

Hello.

Almost in sync, the two girls looked up from what they were doing, glancing around in obvious confusion.

Interesting…she thought.

What is your name?

Neither responded immediately, but instead shifted in discomfort. The longhaired one on the right turned back to her computer, refusing to acknowledge the question. The one on the left however tentatively mouthed something she couldn't hear.

I can't hear you.

The one on the right stared stolidly at her computer, blocking her out completely. The other one fumbled for a little red stick in her desk and wrote in big, blocky letters on her wall: "T3R3ZI".

It is nice to meet you.

The girl on the left smiled a little, then glanced around nervously and returned to her computer. The queen doubted that she would get much more out of either of them today, and stepped away from the screens. She still didn't trust herself around these computers. She still had no idea what their full capabilities were, anything more than simple conversations could be dangerous.

She settled down against the wall across from the massive terminal, picking up one of the half finished cans she had left sitting on the floor in her rush to ingest as much food as she possibly could. She poured more peas into her mouth and wondered quietly. Why had she been made an exile? How was she supposed to save her kingdom by aiding the enemy? What was the point of all of this?

Clearly I was supposed to find this place, she thought, chewing and watching the grey children scurry around on the screens. If I am to be exile to the players now, perhaps that means I don't need to return to Derse in order to save it. Maybe being exiled wasn't severing me from my destiny; maybe it was leading me to it.

Swallowing the last of her peas, she discarded the empty can and curled into a ball on the floor. Yes, that has to be it. This isn't the end. This is the beginning. Her eyes slid shut, a small smile quirking the corner of her mouth.

For the first time since leaving her kingdom, the Black Queen slept soundly.