'Zoltar,' Princess spat the words, 'is just a puppet. I don't understand how we didn't discover this before.' Turning to the Chief, his daughter gave him a meaningful stare, 'Spectra's ruled by an artificial intelligence they call The Luminous One. This Great Spirit of Spectra evolved under the populations' nose and now it controls them.'

'It's amazing how helpful our purple masked friend is being,' Jason added with his usual sarcasm, 'now the boots on the other foot. None of us would have rolled over that easily.'

'It has taken three days,' Anderson reminded turning away from the team, 'and countless rounds of questioning to get this information.'

'Can we trust it,' Mark asked looking to the Chief's back with wide eyes.

'Yes,' The Security Chief stated, 'only because we have other intelligence that supports Zoltar's assertions.' Finally he faced the accusation in Princess's eyes. 'We have known about this ultimate deity for some time. Discovering its electronic source, that came as a surprise.'

'We need to destroy the AI,' Princess declared, looking to her colleagues for support. 'It's not like the team hasn't been to Spectra on several occasions. Mark and I stood in the chamber. We saw this thing but didn't know what it represented. If we could get in again, I'm sure we could rig it to blow. I just need time to find the nexus.'

'We need more information,' Anderson attempted to stare her down. The gaze held significance towards his daughter alone. 'I'm not willing to sacrifice you on a fool's errand. When we know the exact location of our target, then we'll move.'

'How many lives need to be lost before we do something to stop this war,' she fired back, anger lacing her green eyes. Rising from the couch, Princess began to pace the office. Careful to avoid contact with the boys, she bristled with suppressed rage.

At the end of the last mission, a mission one which they'd lost one of their team, The Chief took her aside. Worried for her safety and disobeying the mission Commander's orders, he'd chastised in a cold, impersonal tone. It reminded Princess of the time she'd lost her shoe. Her father's anger stemmed from the possible consequences of a careless choice for an entire planet still resisting Spectra. This time, she'd stood stock still and taken his verbal berating without batting an eyelid. It seemed to unnerve the security chief.

'If you're finished,' she stated at the end of the interview, the cold fury still lacing her mind as she walked stiffly away. For the last three days she avoided everyone.

'Now is not the time,' Anderson cautioned trying and failing to send her a private caution, 'for irrational decisions made under the shadow of grief.'

He'd been stepping on eggshells, unsure how Princess would react since the day of Keyop's death. The event triggered something monumental in her as her unusual actions demonstrated. It brought out the latent leadership qualities Anderson knew lurked below the surface. They'd been breed into her for generations.

Lately, every time he glanced at Princess, she transformed, becoming more like her mother. I hurt him more than he liked to admit. Anderson tried not to think about his wife, the life she'd lived alone on an occupied planet. Eventually he'd stopped looking at his daughter. Finally, Jamieel, consort of Ordan came to the startling realisation, he'd lost his daughter. The time had come for her to take up her duty.

Mark and Jason approached to him, at a loss how to react around the quiet, sullen Swan of the last few days. She wouldn't allow any of them close enough to share her grief. He'd pleaded with Mark not to give up. If Princess would open up to anyone, the man she considered her brother and confidant had the best chance.

'When will it be time?' Princess demanded, glaring at her father. 'Keyop's genetic material originated from each one of us. Our brother is dead, killed by Spectra. It doesn't get much more personal than that.'

'Princess,' Anderson growled. A string of sounds, resembling a song erupted from The Chief's mouth aimed directly at the only woman in the room.

Mark stared, opened mouthed. He remembered the nightly ritual from his earliest years. After a long day, locked away in the bowels of the ISO's technical laboratories, his father came into their nursery. Dismissing the nanny, Anderson took his place in a rocking chair between Princess's crib and his bed. Laying a hand on each of his children, their father would sing to them. It sounded something like the tune now issuing from his mouth.

To the Commander's utter surprise, Princes returned the notes. They seemed to be conversing in heated tones. The language very different from anything he heard. Even the universal translator within his communicator couldn't decipher the strange, melodic language.

'They don't know,' she looked into the hooded eyes of her father, returning to Terran Standard, 'do they?'

Turning to her teammates, she could see the confusion in their expression. 'It's time all of us knew of our origins. We knew of Keyop's manufacture from the DNA of several races. That genetic material originated from the four of us because each of us represents a different planetary heritage.' Turning on her brothers, Princess explained, 'Tiny's the only real Terran on the team and the only orphan. Jason, you've always known your parents originated on Spectra. Mark you learnt of your connection to Colonel Cronus earlier this year.'

Taking in a deep breath, Princess looked to her father to continue the story. Turning his back, he gave his opinion. Sadden by his rebuff she knew this to be a turning point in her life. Three sets of eyes begged her to fill in the blanks.

'What none of you know,' she hesitated, finding the words, 'Mark's father is the real William Anderson. He'd been sent to Riga before the war broke out, fostering relations between the two planets. Falling in love with a Rigan woman, he married and started a family. Deciding to stay, he founded the Red Impulse.' Walking over to Mark, Princess offered in a soft tone, 'when your mother died, he changed, became very bitter and surrendered you to your grandfathers keeping.'

'The old man,' Mark swallowed hard, hurt shining in his blue eyes, 'he told the truth?'

Nodding, Princess turned her attention to Jason. 'You're parents grew up on worlds in the Crab Nebulae, ruled by Spectra.'

'Tell me something I don't know,' Jason's sarcasm dripped.

'They are currently on Ordan, working with the resistance movement,' she offered, reaching out a hand in comfort. Jason shook it off, his sense of betrayal obvious. 'I've only know for a few days. They relinquished you to save your life. Zoltar discovered their treachery and they were forced to run for their lives.'

'How do you know all this,' Jason demanded, grabbing hold of Princess.

'Please,' she begged, 'give me time to explain.'

Walking over to sit beside Mark, the two wounded men shared a look. She could see the desolation in their facial expression.

'I am from Ordan,' Princess announced into the stunned silence.

'Ordan,' Mark's head came up at the name. 'Why do I get the feeling that planet is going to play a starting role. Grandfather led a diplomatic mission there, you say Jason's parents are still resisting Spectra on Ordan and finally it's your planet of origin.'

'We've all studied Galactic politics,' Tiny chipped in. Quiet, his intelligence often overlooked, he made connections before the others. 'It's Spectra's main jumping off point for their assault on our galaxy.'

'Enough,' Anderson roared.

'I agree,' Princess stared down her father, 'enough. The time has come to open your actions to the world. Spectra is on the edge of defeat. What then? Will you and I stay here on Earth or return to our home. My mother died in the defence of her people on Ordan.'

'Princess,' Mark moved to her side, 'what do you mean? Your Mother? You said Tiny's the only completely human member of the team.'

'My father brought me to earth hours after my birth on Ordan,' she confessed, 'as the daughter of the man who'd identity he took.'

'Your,' swallowing hard, it became obvious John Anderson spilt all his deepest regrets to his grandson, 'your Nyora's daughter. That would make The Chief…'

'The Consort of Ordan,' Princess finished for him. The shocked expression's on her brother's faces stated they understood the perilous position she'd just place them in.