Queen Iyalla's reign had been closing in on half a century (in Thoraxian years), beginning within the fortnight after the Siege of Ghur'ban-gyl. In that time, she watched the planet rebuild itself after war; being its only great consistent through times of postwar plenty and of hardship. The worst of the war had been behind them for years, but it left a divided Thoraxia in its wake; upon her ascension there were those who selected life in exile along a belt of asteroids which encircled Helios Mu rather than forge any attempt at brotherhood. True peace came a year ago, but at a great risk of exposing her people to the general public of a far-off planet called Earth.

Her Majesty was well aware of Earth and its culture, particularly in a region called Hillwood on a slab of land dubbed "America." It had been this city where she lived in exile until fate thought it right to have her and her assassin Y'niarb cross paths; a meeting which (upon reaching womanhood) allowed her to return to her home planet at not only at the expense of Y'niarb's life but that of her handmaiden Ezora U'thrmdugyl.

It took some time, but Y'niarb's legacy as defector and enemy of the people had been rehabilitated enough to consider the completion of Kreptik-hon Patyri (lit. 'Patriot's Death Chamber), a monument built when he was presumed to have died after requesting relief from his mission and a return home. When his treason and livelihood had been made public, construction of the monument had been permanently halted. Upon the Queen's return, a twenty foot statue had been cast in Y'niarb's likeness from the seized and shot-down enemy warships and after the last ship of those loyal to T'yr-gasso departed.

Standing with an entourage of guards in the shadow of the memorial, Queen Iyalla looked at Thoraxia's capital city of Ghur'ban-gyl in all it's prosperous and progressive glory, as well as the content populace that called it home; some of whom clamored and jostled each other to see the posthumous homecoming/interment of the famed traitor/hero/general (or more appropriately, a vial of his cremains) as well as the bodies of two humans caught in the crossfire of a poorly executed mission on Earth. Upon the completion of the service, the Queen let out a deep despondent sigh knowing the time would one day come where her body would fail her, and she would belong to the ages.

(Presently on Thoraxia)

"Your Majesty." A said a guard. "Admiral Enel-R'ahma has returned from Earth."

Following the sentry, the Admiral steps up to the threshold and gives a crisp curtesy before receiving permission to fully enter the study of her sovereign.

"Leave us." The Queen says politely.

With the doors drawn shut, Admiral Enel-R'ahma places Helga's book before Queen I'yalla before seating herself. The Queen flips to the back of the book and gives a small knowing smile to Helga's picture on the rear of the dust jacket.

"I never really got the chance to say so, but it was nice to finally put faces to the names from those stories you told me." The Admiral began.

"And how are they doing?" The Queen inquires.

"They've grown up some."

"Haven't we all?"

"The one called Gerald has taken Phoebe as his bride and took work in your old school. The eldest beeper princess has found love in the arms of a woman…"

"And the sainted Arnold?"

"Taken this Helga as his bride and began a family with her."

"Which reminds me." The Queen interjected as she rouses herself and grabs a modestly framed photograph from a nearby table. "You have always wondered what she looked like, and sad to say there were no pictures of her here on Thoraxia. But when we were on Earth…"

Admiral Enel-R'amha opens her hands receptively to the enclosed image of two earth girls on the cusp of adolescence inside a parlor of chilled sweetened dairy christened for its distributor 'Slaucen'. Both shared a similar preference of clothing color (powder blue paired with red), but presented themselves with vast difference to the other; the girl on the right wore a short sleeved collared shirt and accessorized herself with a bow tie and belt. By relative contrast, the much taller (and oblong-headed) girl on the left clothed herself in a sweater and plaid kilt-like dress, ornamenting her neck with a strand of pearls. The frame is opened, revealing writing on the back: Simone Carpenter and Ruth McDougal. Slaucen's. 1997.

"So, you each used an Earth-friendly version of each other's surnames as an alias." The Admiral replied. "You took the name U'thrmdugyl, and she Ret-neprac."

Sensing no answer from the Queen, the Admiral looks up to see the aging monarch's face break into a small and almost sad smile.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking how proud your mother would have been to see the woman you have become." Queen I'yalla replied. "I miss her."

"So do I." Admiral Enel-R'amha replied. "But I always wondered. How did it happen."

Queen I'yalla paused a moment, even all these years later the barbarism over the death of her handmaiden and friend was all too vivid. But knowing that it had been a giant question mark in her Admiral's biography, she nonetheless takes a deep breath and gives an honest but unembellished account of Ezora's last moments.

"She was pregnant with you. She didn't suffer or was there any chance for her to say any last words. After they sliced her stomach open and ripped you out, T'yr-gasso's men thought it funny that your murder be the last thing I and the others see before our executions. Instead, Y'niarb chose that moment to cement his status as a turncoat to the Second Orbit, and saved you. He used his arrest as a distraction for me to pick you up and get you proper care. Part of that is why you have more human features than the rest of us; you needed some organic material to replicate a womb, and I had no use anymore for my epidermal earth disguise."

Admiral Enel-R'amha took a deep breath as she began to process what the Queen had told her. However, before achieving any sense of closure, her communication device began to vibrate.

"And where are you and Jack going tonight?" The Queen asked in a jokingly matriarchal tone.

"Dinner." She said giving Queen I'yalla a quick bow. "Is there any-"

The aging monarch's face broke into a schoolgirl-esque smile as she shook her head, thus dismissing the Admiral from her chambers and leaving her in solitude. Now alone, she picked up Helga's book and turned to the first page.

Fear.

For General Y'niarb T'tel-tarb, this emotion was as alien to him as he was to Earth. Yet as he ejected himself from his vessel and took his first steps onto the soil, the General had to remind himself that showing such vulnerability wasn't just foreign but deadly and therefore verboten. He was, after all, the most exemplary soldier Thoraxia had ever beheld in generations. Possessing gifts of strategery, strength, and bravery when it came to staring hardship and death in the eye when need be. Yet now, he felt as small and weak as his disguise made him out to be. As he took his first breaths into the device meant to keep his lungs strong in the face of Earth's atmosphere, Y'niarb looked longingly at the moon and stars of this silent and strange planet. The heat radiating from the engine of his spacecraft as it cooled down reminded him for a moment of the pomp he had departed with. Likewise the moon, that luminous orb in the indigo sky, served to remind him of the mission at hand which burned in his mind like a candle in the darkness.

The intelligence of his superiors had been examined with a fine-tooth comb and his mission was simple; as the revolution threatened to bring the Arkani dynasty to an end, King E-Glar IX sent his daughter to exile in hopes that she may live and possibly one day reclaim the Thoraxian throne upon adulthood. It was his job to tie up this loose end. Raising his hand to the sky, Y'niarb swore an oath on his blood bone and breath that the princess would be found and murdered on sight.

THE END