"Queen of Planet Earth" (closed)

"Queen of Planet Earth"

OOC Thread

(Closed)



April 27, 2023 -- Thursday
Approaching Planet Earth:

David. David. David.

He'd been born Davieridicininna Muru Secu, which in Universal meant second male heir of the grandson of Davieridic. Quite a mouthful back on Planet Royim, and more than a mouthful here on Planet Earth. Of course, David wasn't on Planet Earth. Not yet. He lifted his eyes from the Info Pad upon which he'd been reviewing his own personal file to view his destination: Planet Earth. (image).

David smiled yet again. He'd been in love with Earth from the moment he'd joined the Ambassadorial Program and begun his studies of the distant world. And now he was here. Well, almost. The Royimin ship had employed its braking engines far beyond the orbit of Planet Neptune, then used the gravitational power of Planet Mars, Planet Jupiter, and Planet Mars yet again to brake sufficiently that it could now use Earth's gravitation to slow to a synchronous orbit above the planet. Of course, David had been in cryo-stasis through all of that. Once he'd been reanimated, conscious, and clear headed, he'd pressured the Doctors to finish their medical exam so that he could get here, to the Forward Observation deck to view his destiny.

"How long?" he asked softly.

The Aide at his side looked to his Info Pad and answered, "Six days for arrival in Planet Earth's atmosphere. Three more braking to stationary orbit, during which damage survey and repairs--"

"How long?" David interrupted impatiently. When the confused Aide looked to him, David clarified, "When can I go to the surface to begin my search for the Queen?"

May 4, 2023 -- Thursday (7 days later)
Gros Ventre Wilderness Area
20 miles east of Jackson, Wyoming:

Michael "Mike" Harper awoke to the sound of blue jays dancing across the top of his little cabin. He rolled toward the edge of the bed but not before reaching a hand out to find and contain the big Maremma Sheepdog. Since he'd been a puppy, the now four year old Ghost had greeted Mike each morning with a big wet tongue across the face. It had taken Mike far too long to develop a subconscious habit of trying to find the dog's face before its tongue found his.

But Ghost's wet nose and furry head weren't there this morning. That concerned Mike. The last time the dog hadn't followed up the blue jay alarm clock with a slap of smelly slobber Mike had gone outside to find that Big Kitty had visited during the night. The mountain lion had become a regular visitor to the 25 acre ranch, but because of Ghost's presence and the fact that Mike corralled the goats at night, her only kills on the property had been deer feeding near the forest's edge.

Mike sometimes felt like an intruder here. He'd moved here almost four years ago after life took a major dump on him. His grandfather's property had been grandfathered into the Gros Ventre Wilderness Area back in 1984. G'pa C had died back in 2008, and Mike's need to get the fuck away from civilization had occurred shortly after yet another family member had failed at his attempt to get back to nature. So, since retaining deed to the land required the occupation of it by a direct descendant, it had seemed like fate to Mike that he end up here.

Exiting the cabin, Mike found Ghost sitting about thirty yards from the porch. It wasn't odd to find him there after the morning tongue bath, surveying the property that was his to protect, not Mike's. But there was something odd about his behavior: his head was tweaking a bit left, right, and back as if searching by sound, which wasn't abnormal; but his snout was too high in the air for him to be searching the pastures and out-buildings laid out beyond him. Mike looked to the trees, wondering if perhaps Ghost was searching for an eagle or hawk. There had been an unconfirmed report of a California Condor in the area a couple of years ago. Perhaps...

And that was when Mike saw it, burning across the sky as bright as a match head lit in a dark room. His eyes widened in shock, as did his mouth as he murmured, "Jesus fuck almighty..."

Ghost stood and began howling at the sky. Mike's first thought was meteor, but that faded. This object was far too big. Asteroid? No, by the time he'd begun to consider that, Mike came to realize that he was seeing a shape that looked manmade, not heavenly. The space station? Oh, fuck no, what happened? But that was a quickly dismissed thought, too: if the ISS was ever to come down to Earth, it would break up into dozens of smaller pieces, creating multiple fire trails reminiscent of the Columbia tragedy back in 2003.

No, this was a single, large, bulky object. And while he couldn't believe he was even contemplating this, there was only one thing that could be that big and be burning its way across the open Wyoming sky. He stood there, watching the alien spacecraft until it had disappeared over the forest to the west. Mike had been at the Kennedy Space Center in 2011 to watch what would turn out to be the last shuttle launch, and he'd been amazed at the size of the smoke trail left behind. This trail dwarfed the Atlantis's exhaust ten fold. A hundred fold.

Then, suddenly, the world all about Mike exploded! He dropped to the ground in the fetal position, covering his ears and face as best he could with hands and arms as the multiple shock waves rolled over him. He remained there on the ground for ... for a long time, maybe a full minute, or two? When he finally sat up, then stood, he found himself surrounded by a cloud of leaves and dust stirred up by the unbelievable force. Another couple of minutes passed before his world settled down. The trail in the sky had spread to at least a mile in width. (Over the next hours it would continue to spread until the thinning smoke and condensation filled the sky like a summer storm.)

Ghost was no where to be seen, and Mike's stock animals were still going nuts after the incredible disturbance. Mike hurried into the cabin for the satellite phone. Despite his having last used it 6 months ago to wish his younger brother a happy 24th birthday, it was always charged, connected to a small solar panel. He energized it as he headed back outside, only to find that he couldn't get a signal. Looking up to the sky, he wasn't surprised: who knew what other effects the arrival of a massive alien spacecraft might have on Earth, its people, and their toys?

He needed answers, and he wasn't going to get them staying here. Mike had no communication devices beyond the sat' phone. Mike had been living off the grid to the best of his ability since his life had come apart. He had no interest in the outside world any longer, so what was the need for an internet connected phone, tablet, or computer? His water came from an artesian well; he grew, raised, or killed all that he ate; he'd learned to do without much of what most people found necessary and then learned to manufacture much of the rest. Anything he couldn't create or do without -- which wasn't much -- he got on his bi-monthly horseback ride down to the home of June and Bob Cramer.

Mike hurried back into the house for his saddle bags and weapons, then back out to the barn to saddle Spot, his appaloosa, who was still freaking out. Ghost showed up as Mike was strapping the cargo saddles onto Sherpa, his pack mule. He cut open and dumped a full bag of seed in the chicken coop and a second one of grain in the goat corral, turning the water taps on full to provide a continuous source of the vital fluid he mounted Spot. He looked about the property, wondering with a heavy heart whether or not he'd be back here again.

"C'm'on, Ghost," he said as he mounted Spot. "Let's go see if June'n'Bob have another goat bone for ya, okay?"

They didn’t even have the balls to fire her to her face.

It was supposed to be like any other weekday morning - wake up, shower, grab her latte, get into the “office”, and start drawing away. True, life as a freelancer -even if she was a multi-talented freelancer- wasn’t the most steady gig in the world, but at least it allowed her to pursue her passion. Whatever it may have been that week. Or, if she was being honest, that day. Things…just seemed to fizzle out for a while. She’d be super gung-ho, then, like the tide rolling in, she was just done with it.

Either way, with steaming latte in hand, she stepped through the doors, nodding to the temp receptionist, Jill. Or was it Jane? Juliet? Something with a ‘J.’ She could never remember her name - though it didn’t really matter. The company had a hard time keeping them.

From absent-minded scrolling, Jill-Jane-Juliet bolted up, her pale cheeks flushing. “Oh, uh, Miss Stark! Matt—I mean, Mr. Richards didn’t call you?”

‘Matt’, huh? Maybe he was the real reason why they couldn’t keep a receptionist. She paused; shook her head. “No; was he supposed to?”

“Uh, well,” Jill-Jane-Juliet’s cheeks darkened more, “I would have thought that he would have. They…” Her face looked like it was ready to catch fire, “they, um,” her voice grew smaller.

“They decided to go with another designer. But Mr. Richards said he would comp you for your time and would be more than happy to provide a good reference for you!” The words were nearly garbled, she spat them out so fast.

Logically, it wouldn’t help to get mad at the receptionist. The girl must’ve been fresh out of college. She had that wide-eyed idealism that all recent graduates in their first job had, before reality (and those loans) kicked in. Also logically - it wouldn’t help to make a scene.

But…

____

“So did you totally lay it out there that Matt’s been fucking all of the interns and made the last one get an abortion when she got knocked up and how that totally made her go off the deep end?”

“Nope,” she said, with a heavy sigh. “I just took my check and got the hell out of dodge.”

“God, Eva, you look like such a bad ass, but you are the biggest punk.” And, indeed, there could have been something of a “bad ass” slant to Eva’s features. High chiseled cheekbones, a swan-like long neck (perpetually partially hidden under her curtain of dreadlocks), and a natural bearing of head held high, shoulders back, that made one think of either military or royalty. It was that unwavering placid expression in her big brown eyes that undercut whatever severity the rest of her face and features set in place.

“Oh, fuck off, Kitty,” Eva sniffed. “Americano for Jim Boss!”

Ambling up to the bar, the aforementioned Jim picked up his drink, his hoary eyebrows raised in amusement. “Jim Boss” was an affectionate nickname - he owned the place (along with several other little businesses), and often spent the hottest part of the day lazing about and generally making himself underfoot, but in the most affectionate way possible. He’d taken to the nickname with alacrity - though Eva wondered if he was aware that the nickname was a double entendre. With his ownership of those other businesses, it’d long been a rumor that he was some sort of shady Mafia boss, and all of his stores were elaborate money laundering schemes or hotbeds of white slavery. Knowing him, she thought, with a wry twist of her lips, he’d probably find it hilarious.

The good thing about The First Order coffee shop was that it had definitive cycles - morning and evening rushes, punctuated by hours upon hours of dead time. Maybe not entirely “dead” - there were regulars, but it couldn’t be said that 2 in the afternoon on Thursday was the same as 7 am on Thursday. Ultimately, what it boiled down to was that among the regulars and when the shop was empty, the baristas were free to be themselves - which usually meant copious amounts of swearing and inappropriate music choices.

“Tough day at the day job, Eva?” Jim had a bit of an Errol Flynn charm about him that was probably panty-dropping decades earlier. He couldn’t shake the “rogue” image, though, and he did his best to charm every woman that came through the door, regardless of age. What could have been perceived as slightly disgusting behavior, though, came off as a good natured grandfather.

“What regular job? She got shit-canned,” chirruped Kitty, wiping down the bar.

“Language,” he half-heartedly chided. “Never going to get a man with a mouth like that.”

“Oh, the three I got don’t have much to complain about when it comes to my mouth,” Kitty retorted. Jim chuckled, shaking his head.

“You keep me young, Kitty.” Turning to Eva, his impish expression softened into one of sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear about you losing your job, Eva. It’s rough out there for you young ones.”

Eva gave a half-hearted shrug. “It helped out, but I guess I knew it was coming. I don’t think I could have lasted a long time there anyway.”

Jim’s button bright eyes looked her over, measuring and weighing, his thin lips twisting in the depths of his salt and pepper beard. “You know, you have a wonderfully Zen approach to it. I’d be panicked in your shoes.”

“Jobs come and go. How does that song go? ‘Gotta know when to hold ‘em’ and all that.”

“…Sometimes I’m not entirely sure she’s got a pulse with how laid back she is,” added Kitty, who was now at the opposite end of the counter.

“Well, the world sucks, and there’s not a lot you can do about it. You can get super stressed, work yourself into an early grave, or realize that it sucks and do what you can to make your own life suck a little less. I mean, I at least got a pretty decent reference out of it and a last paycheck. So whatever.” The last part was sharp. The repetition of the conversation was an ice pick driving deeper into her chest. Another failure. And still nowhere closer to figuring out what she wanted to do. What she could do. Normally, she loved Kitty’s no-nonsense approach to life, but right now, the ‘grab the bull by the horns’ approach was wearing thin.

“Besides. I’m still here - shift lead,” and mockingly, she plucked at her name tag. “Living the dream.”

“And with your behavior here, you might just end up manager,” Jim said, tilting an imaginary hat towards her. “No one yet has topped your Americanos. People nowadays think coffee needs to be all bells and whistles and whipped cream. Only someone who truly gets simplicity can make a good cup of coffee.”

Eva smiled, a wan expression that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks, Jim Boss. I appreciate it.” She hoped it didn’t sound as hollow to his ears as it did to hers. Not that working at First Order was awful; on most days, it really did brighten up her day. But there just had to be more. Wasn’t there? The feeling sat like congealed grease on her stomach - was there something more? But what was even the point, if there was? To further mask her doubt, she absently picked up a heavy white mug from the sink and began to wipe it down. From the opposite side of the counter, Kitty side-eyed her, before letting out an overly dramatic sigh and returned to wiping down the already sparkling bar.

And so it went - until the windows rattled within the panes, the glass on the verge of shattering. Car alarms shrieked in protest. The klaxon of fire trucks and police cars joined in. Eva dropped the cup she was wiping, the heavy ceramic shattering with a dull thud on the wooden floors. The rumbling stopped almost as soon as it’d started, and, ever the gentleman, Jim called out -

“Kitty, Eva? You girls alright?”

Kitty nodded - Eva was already kneeling to pick up the pieces of the cup. “Fuck,” she sighed. She hated breaking things. Made her feel sloppy.

“Holy shitsnacks, did you guys see that?!” exclaimed a young woman as she dashed into the shop.

“Pam, what in the Sam Hill was it?” Jim was inspecting the corners of the shop. Save for the windows, all seemed to be in place.

“This like…I dunno, bright light in the sky. Looked like a comet in the day time. I nearly got into an accident because of it!” she was pulling her sheets of black hair back into her typical ponytail. “I’m glad I take the bus - I was walking down the block to get here and, BAM! This thing just goes right over head and some jackass ran the red light looking at it. Lucky for me and my cat-like reflexes, I was able to get out of the way. Kicked the fuck outta his fender, though. You guys okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” huffed Kitty. “Our resident zombie is also fine. Pretty sure Jesus himself could come in and ask for coffee and she wouldn’t blink an eye.”

Eva, standing with the larger bits of the coffee cup in her hand, rolled her eyes. “Whatever it was can be explained. Like, bits of space debris burn up in the atmosphere all the time. No reason to freak out. I mean, really,” she dumped the shards into the trash. “What are you, five?”

“First off, fuck you, and second off, how do you know that about space trash?”

“Because I read things other than Buzzfeed articles,” Eva sniped as she sidled from behind the counter. “Pam, glad you’re okay. Seriously. Take five - you’re early for your shift. Want something?”

“I’d say a shot of tequila,” Pam sighed as she sat down at the counter, “but I’m pretty sure I drained the rest of my stash last week.”

“You girls aren’t supposed to be drinking on the clock,” Jim chuckled. “And it wasn’t tequila, it was vodka. Which was excellent, by the way.”

“You old bastard,” Pam jokingly hissed. “That’s why it was my special stash. You owe me.”

“Fair enough.”

“But seriously, Eva, how come you’re so calm? Even the news doesn’t know what just happened.”

“Because,” she huffed, as if explaining the same point for the untold time to a child, “Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens here in Texas, because, well, Texas. Texas is enough unto itself, no matter where you live. And when it does happen, it’s to like, famous people or people who have money or people who were born here and then move away to strike it big somewhere else. Like Joan Crawford - not baristas in a coffee shop competing with a Starbucks down the street,” and this time, the smile that crossed her lips was genuine.

May 6, 2023 -- Saturday (2 days later)
In the skies over the North American continent:

"Ambassador?"

Looking up from his Info Pad, David found Tarlorkorikin Muru Tul standing at the open door of his suite. Standing, David gestured forward the man who was not only the Captain of the vessel but was also the Commander of the men and women of the Royim Armed Forces who, in phases, were being reanimated from cryo-stasis as per the growing needs of the mission to Planet Earth.

"Please, Taylor, come in," David told him, circling around to turn the chairs on the opposite side of the big desk from his own to face one another, indicating a sense of intimacy in the conversation to come. As the other man came forward, David asked, "Do you mind my using your Earth name while onboard?"

The experienced military man was easily twice David's true age, having won praise, glory, and medals galore in combat well before David was born, possibly even before David's father's father was born. During the preparations of the mission to Planet Earth, David had been given the option of picking a less experienced Mission Commander. The thinking had been that a man from the military who was closer to David's own age might be less likely to question the young Ambassador's directions, should a conflict between the two ever arise. David's response had been simple and direct: "I want the best man for the job."

"I have abandoned my birth name for the duration of the mission, just as you have, Ambassador," Taylor answered as he sat across from the already sitting David. The tone he used and went on to use left David feeling as if the Commander wasn't entirely sincere about his declaration. "I have done this of free will and without regret, for the good of the mission."

David hesitated, studying the man's expression but getting nothing from it. Taylor had a stone face way to him that sometimes left David wondering whether the man may indeed be the cyborg many of the Junior Officers joked that he was. David let the issue of names go, asking, "You came with a report, Commander?"

"We will achieve a geosynchronous orbit over the mid-North American continent at twelve-oh-five hours local," Taylor began. He began to explain in detail how the ship had spent most of the last three days using Earth's atmosphere and gravitation to slow before exiting the atmosphere to assume a distance of almost 500 miles above the planet's surface, but David politely waved off that part of the report. "Per mission procedures, all clocks, computers, and other time-dependent devices have been set to Earth's Coordinated Universal Time, or UTC ... what training on Royim had called Greenwich Mean Time."

"Yes, I've seen the update, Commander," David confirmed. "And for local issues...?"

"We will be in orbit over what the UTC system calls Central Time," Taylor continued, "and all personnel, whether civilian or military, either on board or on the ground in this time zone area, with duties directly or indirectly connected to ground services, will function off that time. We will continue to cycle personnel as necessary through the applicable courses on Earth Human culture, refreshing the training they received during their training prior to departure from Royim, to ensure that the mission is conducted professionally."

"Thank you, Commander," David responded with a smile. He glanced to the time on the bulkhead beyond Taylor's head, asking, "So, twelve-oh-five ... less than two hours from now. How long until I can make my broadcast to Planet Earth's populace?"

"The Language Translators are still processing most of the world's languages," he answered, still with that firm, professional tone. "But it is my understanding that a majority of the world's population is either fully or sufficiently fluent in the P.E.L. in which you were trained--"

"You are referring to English," David cut in, actually speaking the word English in English, his Primary Earth Language. They had been speaking to one another in what the Royim called Universal, but from here out, David continued in English, "You have been trained in that language as well, Commander."

Taylor hesitated before switching to the Earth language, "Yes, Ambassador, though I am not as proficient in it as you. My understanding of Earth language hierarchy is that this English is a dominant language in the financial and diplomatic arenas, and as such, in those countries where English is not spoken as a P.E.L., there are more than enough bilingual people who are fluent in English to translate your message and ensure that it gets to the populace. In conclusion, Ambassador..."

David smiled when Taylor didn't continue, finishing for him, "I can ... make the call when ever I want."

Taylor nodded. He asked if there was anything more David needed, and seeing the Ambassador standing as a polite dismissal of him, the Commander stood as well. Pressing his fisted hand over his chest, he declared with a formal tone, "To the Queen."

"To the Queen," David repeated.

He watched Taylor depart, returned to the other side of his desk to make contact with the necessary Diplomatic Corps personnel, then made his way to the Observation Deck beyond which Earth could be seen 500 miles below. After the necessary DC people arrived to finalize the mission's next step, David's heart began to race. He'd spent his entire life training for this mission, and he'd contemplated this moment so often in the past that sometimes he awoke in the night thinking he'd already made the call.

"We're ready, Ambassador," an Aide said from behind the camera, which itself stood before a console crowded with complex electronics. When asked by David about the pre-message, the Aide said, "Yes, Ambassador, it has been broadcasting for the past several hours, alerting the Earthlings that a message was imminent."

David took another moment to gather himself, then stepped out before the camera. He smiled, then chuckled. When some of those assembled gave him curious expressions, he explained, "They're probably expecting me to be some three headed green monster. Maybe something with tentacles, talking to them from a pool of pink water. Or a bodiless spirit, ready to..."

By this point, there as enough laughter, some sincere, some simply polite, for David to just laugh and return to preparing himself. He nodded to the man behind the camera, who gestured to the man at the console. The camera man raised his splayed fingers, dropped them one at a time, then pointed the last forward.

"Greetings," David began in English, a nervous smile spreading his facial features. "My name is Davieridicininna Muru Secu. But ... you can call me David."


He chuckled a bit, trying to lighten the mood of the estimated viewing audience of over 3 billion people. If you included those without the internet or other forms of visual communication, who instead were listening in on radios or speaker broadcasts in town squares and such, that audience increased to about 5 billion. Never in Earth history had such an audience been assembled.

"By now," he continued with a friendly tone and a slight smile, "most of you are aware of the rather large spacecraft now in orbit above Planet Earth."

He hesitated a moment, contemplating the most of you statement. Taylor's review of the ship's braking procedure estimated that in its 19 orbits about Earth, the ship had passed within sight of two-thirds of the world's population. For those who hadn't seen the ship with their own eyes, there had been no shortage of video and still images.

"Before I go any farther, I wish to assure you that we are not here to do you any harm." David leaned a bit forward, as if trying to gain a more intimate and serious distance to his audience. "I repeat. We are not here to cause you any harm. In fact, we are here to aid Earth's population with some of the issues and troubles that have come to plague them as civilization marched forward."

Taylor had warned David on several occasions not to suggest that last part. You call it helping them, but they'll see it as meddling.

But David had wanted to reassure the Earthlings that he and his were of no danger to them. He now continued, "In the days to come, we will be contacting your leaders to discuss how we can help one another, to discuss how we can work together to solve some of Earth problems, to discuss how to bring peace and prosperity to every man, woman, and child on Planet Earth."

David glanced past the camera to the man at the console as had been arranged, and though he couldn't see the result himself, the image of David became larger on screens across the globe as the camera zoomed in slowly.

"One last thing before I go," he said, smiling more broadly. "You may have noticed that I look very similar to you ... that I appear to be Human. There is a very good reason for that, and it isn't that I have somehow invaded or assumed the physical form of one of your citizens, as I am sure your entertainment industries, be it the written or visual form, have at times suggested. I look Human ... because I am Human.

"Although I can not explain it in detail now, in this first contact with you, the people of Earth, I want to assure you that we are all Human ... one in the same. The facts behind this statement will come to be known and shared in the days and months to come, but for now..."

He smiled again before concluding with a farewell common amongst the Royim that, as luck would have it, translated well into David's P.E.L.: "Be well ... live well ... love well ... 'til next we meet."

She hadn’t seen the stores cleaned out like this since the last time there was a multiple tornado threat. There was a part of her, she supposed, perhaps that reptilian brain, that made her want to panic, to start grabbing whatever that she could in order to prolong life just a little bit longer. Whatever it was, it was quickly overridden by her “Zen” (or, if someone was in a less charitable mood, her Nihilist) perspective.

“Okay, so, realistically, if they’ve mastered interstellar travel, there’s not going to be a whole hell of a lot we can do if they want to wipe us out,” she sighed, cradling her cell phone against her shoulder. Cell reception, luckily, had not been cut off - though on the first day that it became apparent that it wasn’t a meteor, cell service had crashed due to the unprecedented amount of calls and transfer of data. Which, in turn, caused another wave of panic as people found their daily patterns disrupted. And really, Eva thought, that’s what panic all came down to.

“But how are you going to live over the next few days?” whined the voice on the opposite end. “Jesse and I have enough, I think, to take care of us and the kids for I think the next month. We haven’t had the time to take stock of what all we have. All of our attention has been on keeping the kids calm.”

Eva hmmed thoughtfully. She’d almost forgotten about her nieces and nephews. Well, maybe not forgot - it was difficult to keep track of the names. She wasn’t much of a child person - and with her sister being two hours away, it wasn’t like she was an active aunt.

“How are they handling it all?” Eva had meandered to her pantry, opened it.

“Oh, you know, kids. They’re pretty resilient. If the sky drops down they’ll be shocked for a minute and then keep going. Since the TV and stuff has come back on, they’re spending more time playing video games and chatting online I guess. Tommy seems to be the only one really interested in the news.”

A flash of a sullen eyed, brown skinned boy with an ancient gaze in his young face flashed across Eva’s memory. “That sounds like him. He’s always been this old man in a child’s body.”

Laughter on the other line. “Well, luckily for us, he hasn’t inherited your particular capacity for not giving a fuck.”

Eva sighed. She was out of her favorite junk food - and with the way stores were looking, she’d be out of it for a while. “That’s not how it is. It’s just that people don’t have a good track record of being decent to one another. Not on average. You saw how not even an hour after it was announced that it was a space ship that people just lost it. They trashed The First Order, ‘Tina.”

‘Tina gasped. “Girl, no.”

“Yeah.” Eva remembered the broken glass under her feet, the torn paintings. The destroyed cash registered - and, most damningly, the look of utter defeat on Jim’s face. The hours spent afterwards cleaning up in the dusty, horrific quiet of a midday Texas summer, when the clouds sat heavy and gray, and rain seemed a sneeze away. The fact that neither Kitty or Pam showed up - the former out of spite, the latter out of simply not being in the city any longer, whisked away by overprotective parents, as if a cattle ranch out in the country could escape the watchful eye of intergalactic travelers. “People fucking suck, ‘Tina. And they’re only going to get worse.”
Silence. In the background, on ‘Tina’s line, Eva could make out the faint sound of kids talking.

“…You never know, Eva. People might surprise you. So, you know Mrs. Johnson down the street?”

“What about her?” Eva closed the pantry door. Nothing seemed appetizing anymore. Not with the memory of the smell of coffee.

“So, when all the power was knocked out, and people were acting a fool in the neighborhood, Mr. Collins, down the street?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, he took his shot gun and sat out on her porch all night. Scared off people who were trying to break in. Ended up starting his own little neighborhood watch until the Guard came in.”

The police had been overwhelmed - a thin force stretched even thinner. Eva couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen one of the distinctive black and white cars, let alone someone in a uniform. This side of town, they were rare as it was. Not that her neighborhood had gone unscathed - she’d been lucky (just why, she wasn’t sure) - and her apartment hadn’t been broken into. A few of her neighbors hadn’t been so lucky.

“All behind Mrs. Johnson?” Mrs. Johnson (if anyone knew her first name, they weren’t telling), was an elderly woman, as independent as someone who was totally homebound could be, and had been a fixture in ‘Tina’s neighborhood for decades. Everyone knew Mrs. Johnson, and Mrs. Johnson knew everyone - and their business as well.

“Yes ma’am - Huh? I’m on the phone, Thomas. You know better. What? Really?! Eva!”

“What?”

“Turn on the TV - they’re making an announcement!”

“Who?”

“The people in that dagblasted spaceship! I gotta go - try to call later!”

The call ended. Eva looked at the dark screen, took a deep breath, and turned on the TV. Watched, idly sucking on her lower lip. What could be said? Of course she didn’t believe the elegant man speaking. Why would she? Why would anyone? And, more importantly, what potential did people have for it to be worth to be invested in? What would they get out of it? Altruism without selfish interests didn’t exist - and it seemed a little ridiculous that this particular species would go out of their way for street cred for being good.

Well, people believed politicians, so there was that.

Flopping down on her futon, she rubbed between her eyebrows, fighting off an impending headache. Strange, how some areas had been hit so hard by panic, and others, by some inexplicable cosmic order, still went on the same. Eva, had she been more introspective, or perhaps aware, didn’t quite realize that she was the reason for the order in her apartment complex. That people, panicked as they were, saw as she carried on as if nothing had happened, and drew strength from it. And, perhaps, if she’d lived in a smaller town, if the big city mistrust wasn’t a thing, they would have told her as much. But no one said anything - merely nodded to one another as if nothing was happening. When power disrupted, they congregated on the roof of the apartment complex. Someone had brought a grill, stating that since the fridges were out, might as well cook the food. Someone else had brought beer. And so it went, a cook out watching the glowing orb on the horizon.

Now, in the dull glow from her TV, she wished that she had a cup of tea and somewhere to go.

And was slightly, moderately troubled by the fact that she found the speaker - David, was it?- mildly attractive.

The Cramer Ranch
Just south of the Gros Ventre Wilderness Area
30 miles southeast of Jackson, Wyoming:

June Cramer hadn't expected Mike Harper for another couple of days. Michael, as she insisted on calling him in her grandmotherly way, rode out from his place deep inside the Gros Ventre Wilderness Area every full moon, having picked a day of nature rather than a day of the calendar because his unhurried, unstructured, off the grid existence tended to make him forget what day of the month it actually was. Since his arrival, June and her husband Bob had kept Mike involved in an almost uninterrupted discussion about what the ship's arrival meant to them personally and the world as a whole.

"It's on!" June called from the living room, urging, "Get your damn beer and snacks and get in here."

Mike helped bob with the trays of food and bottles of beer. June had called the recent events the most significant thing to happen to Earth since that asteroid snuffed the dinosaurs, and now with a spread on the coffee table before the television, she was approaching it as if they were sitting down to watch the Super Bowl. With the exception of a hastily organized and sadly unsatisfying supply run to Jackson just hours after the first overhead passing of the spacecraft, the three of them hadn't left the property since Mike's arrival. There had been a number of local reports of violence, mostly looting and burglary but also one robbery-related murder. the Governor of Wyoming had not only declared a statewide dusk-to-dawn curfew but had also activated the National Guard. Things around here had actually been calm, compared to the larger cities. Every man, woman, and even child in Western Wyoming had or knew how to use a gun, so trouble makers were far and few between.

As the news anchor was explaining that a message from the aliens was imminent, the trio got a very welcomed surprise as Hannah entered the front door. June leaped up to take her 22 year old granddaughter into her arms. "You made it! Thank the Lord Almighty, you made it!"

As she reassured her grandmother that all was well, Hannah gave Mike a glance and a smile. The two of them had been casual lovers since shortly after her long time and much older boyfriend ran out on her two years ago. June knew all about the relationship, of course: she'd been the one who hooked the two of them up in the first place. Hannah had been devastated and stressed, and June had known that the girl was about to explode if she didn't release some of the built up tension.

"Better between the sheets with Mike," June had told Hannah with a devilish smirk, "then in the middle of Jackson with one of your Gra'papa's semi-automatic rifles."

June hurried the girl over to the couch, again shushing them all despite the fact that no one was speaking. When she looked up and back to him, Mike smiled and handed Hannah his beer. She took a drag, handed it back, and said almost in a whisper, "Sorry I'm late."

Mike waved off the apology, telling her it was all well, just before June shushed them again. The two lovers shared a smile before their attentions returned to the television. But Mike couldn't help but glance down at the woman, wondering what this meant to their relationship. They'd never been anything more than friends with benefits, a phase that Mike had always thought childish though clear and direct. Hannah wasn't interested in a serious relationship. She was still hurting and mad over the collapse of her now-2 year dead relationship.

And, of course, Mike had his own dead relationship keeping him from wanting to commit to a new woman. The difference was that he had been at fault over his failure with his lost love. Eva had been a free soul, a rolling stone, a leaf in the wind. Although it was just speculation on his part, Mike had long believed that he had been Eva's longest serious relationship, if not her only one. He hadn't meant to hold her back from the many things she wanted to do or the many places she wanted to see. In fact, he'd taken her on several vacations during their time together, heading north to the glaciers of Canada one summer, then to Patagonia for what was the Southern Hemisphere's summer.

But his job hadn't made having a relationship with someone like Eva easy. Mike had been recruited from the SEALs by a shadowy branch of the CIA as a cover sniper for domestic Black Ops. Domestic! All of his work had been on US soil, despite the Government's forbiddance of such activity by the Agency. Of course, Eva hadn't known that. Mike's cover story had been that he was a freelance bodyguard, in the employ of the Secret Service to protect foreign diplomats when they came to the US for talks. It meant that he was at home most of the time and, when he did leave for work, he was only gone for a few days at a time.

And then came Kiev. It was the first time Mike had left North America with the Agency. It was supposed to have been a four day Op', providing over watch for the acquisition of a Russian defector who had information on the whereabouts of Bashar al-Assad, who months earlier had gone into deep hiding to avoid the cruise missiles that the new American President was dropping on any building that the Syrian leader might have been hiding in. Those four days turned into 14, then 24 when Mike was sent to Jordan ... to assassinate Assad, who had been found hiding in the Syrian safe house there.

He hadn't terminated the Syrian leader, instead being sent home after the operation itself was terminated. And when he got home, he found that his relationship with Eva had been terminated as well. She'd packed up what she wanted to take with her, left the rest, and simply wandered off into the bigger world that he'd always promised they'd see together. Oh, Mike had been happy for her in his own way: he'd always known she wasn't content with being tied down to one place, though he'd always hoped she wasn't discontent with being tied down to him. But nonetheless, it had devastated him. He resigned from the Agency, claimed a one time retirement payment in cash rather than a monthly pension, moved to his grandfather's place, and never looked back.

"Shh!" June chastised as the anchor of the special news report announced that the alien broadcast was about to begin. "Here he comes!"

Mike, who was standing behind the others who were sitting side by side on the long couch, couldn't see their expressions as the anchor was replaced by ... a human? Just as the Royim Ambassador had joked to his own people before the broadcast, Mike had expected something more alien. Oh, humanoid in general shape maybe, no tentacles or ghostly apparitions. But certainly not looking like one of the yuppie types who flew out to Jackson for ski season and took all the good seats at the espresso bars that, for the rest of the year, had been available for the locals.

"Greetings," the man said in perfect English with an accent that Mike would try and fail to identify. "My name is Davieridicininna Muru Secu..."

Da-vee-er-i ... Davey-error... Mike tried in his mind.

Thankfully, the man continued, "But ... you can call me David."

"Body snatchers," Bob murmured. Of the three Cramers, Bob had been the most apocalyptic of them. He was sure that the A-bombs or killer viruses or flesh-melting lasers were about to be unleased. "How else he looks like that?"

"Keep quiet!" June chastised, slapping his thigh hard enough to cause him to squeak in pain. The woman of the house had been the excitedly hopeful one. She hadn't stopped waxing on dreamily about all the wonderful advancements such an obviously advanced race would bring to what she, the environmental activist, had long considered a dying planet. She looked to her granddaughter with a smile and a wink, saying, "Maybe they'll abduct Bob, whatcha think? Harvest his vocal cords."

They laughed together, short and sharp before June waved again for silence. Hannah looked up to Mike, smiling politely before reaching a hand up and wiggling her fingers for him. Mike could see that she was frightened by all of this. For two days, she and her grandmother had talked hourly on the cell or sat' phones about whether or not Hannah, who had been backcountry skiing, should take a chance on the roads to get back home. Mike had wanted her to stay in place, despite that meaning missing their monthly tension relief session out in the little cabin Bob had built for her. But Hannah had wanted to be with her grandparents in case, as Bob claimed was going to happen, the end was near.

"I repeat," the alien continued, "We are not here to cause you any harm."

As this David went on, Bob began again about the imminent invasion, this time waving off his wife's chastising. He looked up to Mike, asking for the umpteenth time for the man's military and intelligence opinion. Mike shrugged, nodded, or shook his head as appropriate but didn't speak. He was as interested as was the shushing June to hear what this man had to say. When David got to the part about being human, Mike wasn't sure what to think. He sure looked human, and he spoke better English than half of the men and women Mike knew. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck...

But how could that be? If this alien and, presumably, the others on his ship were human, then how? There were, of course, all sorts of options ... if you were a Hollywood screenplay writer. They all seemed just a bit too SciFi for Mike. David continued, "In the days to come, we will be contacting your leaders..."

A chill ran up Mike's spine at this. He'd been in the Service and Agency for a combined 12 years, and he'd learned a great deal about how idiotic Leaders could be when faced with new, unfamiliar situations. Honestly, he was surprised that the ICBMs, some of which were just a couple of hundred miles east of here, hadn't already begun flying toward the ship which was now somewhere over Nebraska or Kansas.

As it became obvious that the alien was nearing the end of his introduction, he signed off with, "Be well ... live well ... love well ... 'til next we meet."

"Til next we stick a nuke up your asshole," Bob murmured, standing to head for the kitchen. He slapped Mike on the shoulder, asking with a laugh, "Even an alien human has to have an ass hole, right, Mikey?"

Mike just smiled as his attention shifted to the two women: Hannah slunk over into her grandmother's arms as they began talking quietly about what this all meant. For his part, Mike retrieved another beer and headed out onto the porch. He looked off to the east, up into the sky. He couldn't see it now, but later tonight as the sun dropped behind the mountains to the west, the sun's rays passing the planet would reflect off the alien craft, making it appear as if a new planet in the heavens, low on the horizon.



0230 hrs; May 7, 2023 (Sunday)
500 miles above the Oklahoma Panhandle

"Ambassador?" an Aide spoke quietly, seeing David sleeping upright on a bench seat in the viewing window of his private Observation Deck. As his superior opened and rubbed his eyes, the Aide smiled broadly. "The Queen. We have located her, your Excellency."

David's eyes widened with shock. "Already?"

The Aide hesitated, waiting for David to stand and gesture him forward. He began operating the Info Pad as he approached, explaining, "Our Operative in Zone 12 found her, here."

He handed David the Pad, pointing to a flashing icon to the northwest of another, non-flashing dot identified as City 29.7N/95.3W (Houston). "Is she safe and secure?"

David had seen the reports of mayhem occurring all about the globe. And, of course, there'd been the damage caused by the ship's violent entry into Earth's atmosphere. The latter had been unavoidable: it had been the only way to slow the ship down. But the former? He didn't understand why in a momentous time like this, people would destroy their neighborhoods and kill their fellow Human. David had a lot to learn about these Earthlings. He asked, "Do they have eyes on her?"

"I believe so, your Excellency," the Aide said. When he got a stern look from David, he quickly added, "I will find out, immediately."

David turned away as the Aide hurried away, looking down upon Planet Earth. He glanced at the Pad again, at the dot, then back out at the surface of the globe below him. The ship was facing south, which meant that right down there someplace, in that arid region, under those clouds, was his Queen. His Queen! David realized suddenly that his heart was beating hard. He'd been training for this all his life. He'd been dreaming about meeting the Queen of all Earth since he'd learned of her so very long ago. He wasn't just going to meet her, though: he was going to reveal to her her true identity; he was going to explain to her her true importance; and he was going to guide her in performing her duties.

He sometimes wondered how he'd fallen into this great honor. Why me? Honestly, it had been a total fluke: he'd been the only Ambassadorial Candidate in the English P.E.L. Section to pass his Boards. When the ship left Royim, the Queen's existence had been known but her identity still hadn't been. There was no way of knowing what her Primary Earth Language was. 126 highly qualified Candidates studying 14 languages had departed Royim; 22 had been studying English; 6 of them had graduated to take their Boards; and only David had passed. Oh, there had been whispers that his Royal title had led to his appointment, but David knew better. He'd spent every waking moment of his life since childhood preparing for this moment.

And now it was near.



0530 hrs; May 8, 2023 (Monday)
Sugarland, Texas:

"Extraction authorized!" a voice crackled in the Extraction Team's ear pieces. The voice continued calmly, "Go, go, go!"

A moment later, all over the little town northwest of Houston explosions rocked the streets. Surprisingly, there wasn't nearly as much damage as one might have expected from so much noise, flame, and smoke: the diversion wasn't intended to do damage, let alone harm to the populace, and when it was all over, there were no casualties and only a handful of minor injuries.

In fact, the only significant result of the attack wouldn't even be discovered until almost 7 hours later when a concerned woman would call her sister, only to find that the cell phone was going directly to voice mail. The cops would be called out, but with the mayhem, they wouldn't get to her apartment until almost sundown. They would find her door closed but unlocked, do a quick look around, and find nothing that raised any red flags.

And that would be the end of the search for Eva Stark. At least, for now.



Above Planet Earth
2 hours later:

The gas used to anesthetize Eva were countered with a simple wave of a second drug under her nose by a female Attendee. The woman stepped back, and as soon as Eva's eyes set upon her, she dropped to her knees, lowering her head as she said with obvious respect, "Your Majesty."

Behind her, a dozen other woman of varying age and dress each dropped to their knees as they became aware of Eva's consciousness. Only one person in the room didn't automatically drop in subservience: she was noticeably older than the others and dressed far more elegantly and, if might seem, more officially. She moved across the room to stop near the end of the massive bed upon which Eva lay, bowed her head, and explained, "I am Sarah, your Majesty. I am your Lady. Your ... assistant, aide, pick a word."

She looked about herself and snapped her fingers in a way that had obvious meaning as the dozen women stood and hurried either out or about the room. One waved a hand over an icon on a wall, which began sliding open to reveal a walk in closet 20 feet across and more than 100 feet long. Four of the women hurried inside and took station, ready to help their Queen dress when it came time to do so. A second of the servants went to a second wall, waving a hand to reveal an En Suite bathroom that was as large as the closet and rivaled in services and features even the most exclusive health spas down on Earth. Half a dozen of the women, expecting Eva's imminent use of the room, took station there as well.

"We should begin with a calming bath, your Majesty," Sarah said with respect, gesturing toward the bathroom, in which the servants again dropped to their knees. Then, gesturing toward the closet -- more kneeling -- continued with the ease of a lifetime of speaking Universal, "After you've picked a gown of your liking, Ambassador Davieridicininna Muru Secu is eagerly awaiting an audience with you."

Sarah glanced past the big bed sitting in the middle of the huge bed chamber, to an Observation Window that fill one entire side of the room. She looked back to Eva. She smiled, saying, "Your planet is beautiful, your Majesty."

Years ago, when Eva was young, her father had taken her to a special screening of Enter the Dragon. For the next two hours, she was absolutely entranced by what she saw. After the show, she demanded that she wanted to be as “kick-butt” as Bruce Lee. Her father, used to humoring his daughters (much to the chagrin of their mother), had simply laughed, and within the week, Eva was signed up for Jeet Kun Do lessons, with the full expectation that she’d quit after a week - such as she had with ballet, volleyball, and cello lessons.

What no one really honestly expected was that it’d be one of the few things Eva would actually stick with doggedly through the years, adding on to it some dabbling in Kung Fu and T’ai Chi. It wasn’t something that was known outside of the family - Eva chose not to volunteer information. Plus, when it came to martial arts, everyone always wanted a demonstration - which, to her, entirely defeated the purpose of learning them to begin with.

So, when the explosions went off, she was already on her feet, looking out the window. They’d sounded far off, but an explosion was an explosion. Even this far away, the dull boom had been unmistakable. Her pulse quickening, her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the window frame. Already, the training of her body kicked in before her mind, and she drew in one deep breath after the other.

And, breaking under the rising tide of fear in her stomach, she laughed.

“I’ve got a front row seat to the end of the world,” she mused out loud. “And I still haven’t had my hunky three way.”

Over the sound of her own voice, she could hear people approaching. Her body tightened. She didn’t have a gun in her apartment - she hated the things, with their causal and anonymous brutality-, but she did have kitchen knives. Her stomach lurched; hopefully, she’d be good enough to either be able to talk her way out of this, or use some of that training to at least subdue without causing any open wounds.

Those were her last conscious thoughts.

___

This had made her happy. For a little while, at least.

Mike had been an attentive partner and lover, someone who rode out her mercurial nature with divine grace. And maybe that had been the problem. Sure, they fought, but they were boring fights over nothing. Beneath the streak of Zen, Eva was a passionate woman who needed to be challenged. Who liked to cause a row sometimes just to remember that she was a human being.

After a while, she was merely content - that itching in her stomach growing as time settled in around them. They’d never spoken of children, or anything more serious as marriage. Untouched by the lives of those around her, who were settling into marriages and baby announcements, she, by all outward appearances, was in a state of slow aging. It wasn’t “arrested development,” as she had indeed continued to grow and change, but a meandering through life that left her suspiciously young.

That itching - he didn’t get.
It’d only been with age that she learned to control her anger towards others when it came to that desire; that constant tugging at her soul that she had to keep moving. That there was something else, something better, something shining right past the horizon for her. That her life was one of seeking, looking for that brightness that beckoned to her. The assumption that many made was that once she found the right person, the right job, became a mother, she’d find it. Mike had tried, but he hadn’t gotten it. He’d thought that by taking her on trips, by bending to her whims like a willow branch, that it would ease that burning.

It just made it worse, and festered in her.

She’d thought, when she first met him, that maybe he did get it. He was on a job that took him several places, he was the first to suggest new things. And, for a while, she had been happy with that. She really had. And, as she folded a box closed, she realized it wasn’t his prolonged absence that caused this split. If anything, she was thankful for it - it’d allowed her the ease of escape without additional drama. Without the fumbling attempts to put into words something she’d only felt for years, the thing that was only eased by her martial arts training. He’d seen her do T’ai Chi from time to time, and though she wasn’t one to lie, she never fully divulged how good she was or the extent of her practice. She’d simply said that she’d picked up T’ai Chi in college when she struggled with anxiety (something she still did), and made it a part of her daily routine, the same as she did with her stretches before bed. It wasn’t a lie, but nor was it the entire truth.

She didn’t leave a note. She knew him well enough that she felt he’d understood.

_____

Her eyelids slowly fluttered open.

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, and she struggled to sit up. Her body obeyed the commands from her brain with minimal lag; that was good.

What was not was the woman kneeling in front of her. Or the second woman that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

With a dexterity that had her reeling backwards, Eva was on her feet, taking a protective stance.

“ ‘Majesty’? What in the fuck are you talking about?” The sound of her own voice shocked her - namely, with how calm it was. Her breathing was steady, her mind ticker-taping away, sizing up this…whoa. This bedroom? Easily twice the size of her entire apartment. She clearly wasn’t in Texas anymore. Nothing that could be readily taken for a weapon - either for her to use, or for these magpie like women to use against her. That, at least, was good.

“ ‘Calming bath’? ‘Ambassador’?” The rattling name sounded familiar; that, she at least, was certain of. “I’m not going anywhere until I get a better explanation.” Reality was starting to set in, and the years of steady training shattered. Her breath came quicker now, harsher, and her blood rushed in her ears. Her vision swam, and she staggered back towards the bed, instantly flopping down hard and hanging her head between her knees, pressing her palms to her temples, panting open-mouthed in a struggle to get more air in.

“Where’s my apartment? My phone?” Trivial things darted through her head. What about Jim? Would he know she was gone? Her sisters? What about her bird feeder? The strawberries she had growing on her patio?

Sarah knelt close to her. Eva flinched.

“I know this must be quite a lot for you to take in, Majesty…But I need you to stay calm. None of us here intend to hurt you.”

“ ‘Hurt me’?!” Eva cried, the shock of the statement causing her to jerk her head up. “You just knocked me out and brought me to god knows where and you’re saying I’m some sort of ‘Majesty’?! This can’t be real!” The aloof, placid manner was gone, the eyes wide with fear. “My family is going to be worried sick! The whole world is going to Hell and I-”

It was too much. Her heart was racing too fast. Too much to process, she gripped the sheets, in the throws of a full panic attack. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her body trembled in great spasms.

Around her, the maids glanced to one another in horror, their titles keeping them glued to their respective places. Sarah, with the authority borne of age, simply closed the distance between Eva and herself, instantly wrapping the younger woman in a firm embrace. In the arms of this strange woman, Eva shook, her pupils dilated. Tilting her head, Sarah pressed her cheek against the crown of Eva’s head, silent, carding her fingers through the long coils of Eva’s locks.

For long moments, the two sat, perched on the edge of the bed, Sarah cradling Eva as if she were a child. Slowly, Eva’s violent shivering seemed to subside, easing into the occasional tremble.

“…You smell like lavender…” Eva whispered, nearly buried within the voluminous folds of Sarah’s dress.

A gentle laugh from Sarah. “I am quite fond of this flower from your planet. I’ve never seen it, but I find the reproduction of its fragrance most calming. I have heard that most people feel the same way?” It was a gentle question, not meant to spook Eva, merely to invite.

“…It was my mother’s favorite fragrance. I hated it, growing up. Everything she had smelled like it - it was overwhelming.” But there came no rejection of Sarah. If anything, Eva curled tighter into the woman.

“Tell me, Majesty…What is your favorite smell?”

Eva tensed at the title. Sarah had known that using it would be a risk, but felt that using Eva’s name would have been a worse misstep.

“I…I like jasmine a lot. There was…” Nights in the country, spent under the warm navy sky, fireflies dancing. Night blooming jasmine competing with the faint fragrance of moonflower. The smell of mud from the edge of the lake, firewood collapsing and sending a hail of sparks into the sky. “I saw it a lot, as a kid… ‘Tina likes lilies, and ‘Vannah likes peach.”

“I do enjoy the smell of earth fruit as well,” purred Sarah, still stroking the mane of Eva’s hair. “Who are ‘Tina and ‘Vannah?”

“My sisters…” Eva’s fingers loosened their grip on Sarah’s robes. “Christina and Savannah.”

“Mmm,” Sarah murmured. Her grasp on Eva had loosened a bit, as Eva’s breathing had returned to normal. “I know it is a lot to take in…” she started again, gently putting space between herself and Eva, “but explanations will come in due time. And warm water is soothing, no matter where you are.” She placed a hand on Eva’s shoulder. “If you would like, I can dismiss the maids for you. Leave you time to yourself. Nothing here will harm you - and the bath is already run.”

“Y…yes…” Eva nodded. “Please….Can I…Can I call someone in here when I’m done?” Mechanically, she was going along. The sheer ferocity of her panic attack had left her with little sense to do anything else - just to ensure that she wasn’t in immediate harm.

“We will be waiting for you, Majesty.” Sarah stood, a fluid movement of robes. Hesitated for a brief moment, then held out her hand. With shaking fingers, Eva took it, and allowed the older woman to help her to her feet.

“Th..thank you,” she stammered, a reflex of Southern hospitality.

“You are welcome, Majesty. Take all the time that you need.” Sarah’s gaze darted to the maids, and, as ducklings follow their mother, they all filed out behind her, not one casting a glance behind.

Alone in the massive room again, Eva fought the urge to run. Once the door was closed, the first thing she did was ease her way down to the ground, her forehead against the tile. For minutes after, she went through one yoga position after another, until her limbs were sufficiently twisted and aching enough for her to want the caress of that bath.

_____

Wandering through the closet, she thought of Savannah. Savannah was the girliest of the three, into fashion and make up. Well, she was now - she’d started off as the biggest tomboy, then, as time had gone on, proven herself to be as deft with a blusher brush as she was with a right hook. Seeing the quality of these gowns, Eva knew that Savannah would just die.

As it was, everything was way too fine for her. She didn’t own anything too fancy herself, but knew quality when she saw it.

Still, as she continued to wander, there had to be something in here that suited her, since apparently her street clothes weren’t good enough for whoever this man was. Nearly exhausted by her search, she stopped as her eyes spied something with sleeves among the frothing fabric. Pulling it out, she sighed in relief. Perhaps it has been forgotten there - it didn’t fit among the hyper feminine garb. But it suited her just fine.

When the maids were summoned again, Sarah leading them, the older woman stopped short, surprise clear on her face before she composed it again into a pleasant mask.
“You are an interesting woman, Majesty.”

Before her stood Eva, in a long maroon justaucorps with delicate gold trim. Beneath it, she wore a cream shirt, a cravat tucked neatly at her throat. Black breeches with cream stockings and black oxfords completed the look. If anything, all she was missing was a top hat.

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” Eva mused, fiddling momentarily with a long lock before letting her hands fall at her sides. “Please, lead the way. I’d like to know what in the hell is going on.”

Sarah had been unsure of how to react to Eva's choice of wardrobe. Of the hundreds of delicate, light weight, flowing dresses and robes available to her, gowns that would have almost felt not even there, the Queen had chosen a heavy, multi layered ensemble that, on Royim, had been worn over the millennia for State funerals. A slight snicker from behind caused Sarah to turn and glare at the offender. The young woman's eyes dropped to the floor, and after Eva's Lady gave a more senior servant a knowing look, the impetuous young thing was escorted away to be punished.

"Please, lead the way," the monarch said, returning to Sarah's comment about David's desire to meet with her, "I'd like to know what in the hell is going on."

"Oh course, Majesty," Sarah said, giving her standard partial bow. She repeated the news she'd shared earlier, "The Ambassador is eager to meet you."

As she turned to lead Eva out of the bed chamber, the rest of the Queen's servants half turned and lowered their eyes as she passed, then fell in behind her in six trailing pairs. Beyond the bedroom was yet a second room that Eva would learn was all her own. It was twice the size of the bed chamber, with areas that had obvious purposes.

There was a working area, with a massive desk upon which hovered a three dimensional hologram of Planet Earth; a massive table upon which was an also three dimensional topographical relief map of North America; an electronics station with dozens of monitors upon which were playing a multitude of live Earth news outlet broadcasts (and one that was playing the latest episode of Madam Secretary; and more operational necessities.

There was a dining area with a very unique structure. The dining table was narrow, less than a meter wide, not wide enough for two diners to face one another. Instead, the ten chairs down each side were diagonal to one another so that each diner's neighbor was actually the person sitting across from them as opposed to their left or right. There was a chair at one end of the table that was a bit more intricate and elegant in design, and at the other end was another that was even more unique that that one. The first was intended for the Ambassador, the second obviously for Eva herself. There were full place settings already arranged, as if expecting to be used imminently used.

A formal, Salon style, sitting area included plush couches and chairs all with a direct view of a cushioned throne that sat just a bit higher and, itself, faced a wide, tall overhead observation window that gave a similar view of Planet Earth as had the window in Eva's room:


To the right of the Salon was a more intimate sitting area, obviously intended for a more personal use. There was a padded surface on a platform reminiscent of bed that was three times the size of a king bed down on Earth, with dozens of plush pillows arranged perfectly. Colorful, semi-sheer drapes fell from the high ceiling, giving the room a bit of privacy, and although it wasn't obvious in the room's current configuration, there was a second layer of drapes which, through a process even Sarah didn't quite understand, would prevent anyone on the outside from seeing into the private area but would give those inside it a full, unfettered view out.

Sarah continued right through the room, which easily measured 30 meters in width, and into a passageway that led aft. This portion of the ship was strictly for the Diplomatic Corps, so there were no crew members to be greeted or mechanical equipment to disturb the peace or the soft, Royim music escaping unseen speakers.

"If you wish to alter the Calm," Sarah said, meaning the music and not realizing that Eva might not understand her use of the word, "I will make a Technician available to you to program that which you prefer."

They continued onward for 300 meters. Every 10 meters, a pair of portals flanked the passageway to left and right, and while each was equipped with pressure doors, none of the barriers were closed. Beyond them, dozens of men and women performed their diplomatic duties, and as these hard working people caught sight of the passing Queen, they immediately ceased their tasks, turned to face Eva, and bowed their heads in respect.

Sarah, Eva, and the Queen's entourage eventually reached the first pressure door on the main passage, this one closed. The 8 meter high doors slide open with nary a sound, and after Sarah led Eva inside the servants entered and curled around the pair to again be at their rear, as they always would be. The doors reopened a short moment later without the sense of any movement, revealing a lower passageway. Sarah led Eva and the servants forward, with the walk being just as the previous one had but only half the distance. They reached the open portal of a room that was very similar to Eva's own foyer, though only a third the size and not nearly as well appointed.

"Your Majesty," the Royim Ambassador to Earth said with a pleased smile when Sarah got to within 10 yards of him, bowed slightly, then stepped aside to reveal Eva. David was standing in the middle of the foyer, flanked by a man and woman whose uniforms left little doubt as to their military status. All three of them performed their half-bowed as the man in the middle continued, "Please, let me formally introduce myself and your senior staff. I am Davieridicininna Muru Secu. I know, it is as you would say, a mouthful. On Royim in our language, Universal, it means second male heir of the grandson of Davieridic, Davieridic obviously being my father's father. I am the Royimin Ambassador to Earth and--"

He repeated his bow, but more deeply and for a longer period before standing tall to continued, "--I am your servant. And ... you may call me David."

Ambassador David's Quarters:

Those assembled had been expecting and anxiously awaiting the Queen since just shortly after they'd learned that she was again conscious. The conversations occurring in David's quarters prior to Eva's arrival had included other Command Crew or Diplomatic Corps officers, but when word came that their Queen was on her way, the crowd thinned greatly: when Eva arrived, there were only three people of note standing in the middle of the room to greet her, each with an Aide standing two steps behind and slightly to the right. After Eva entered, if she looked left she would also find half a dozen male servants standing against the wall, and looking right she would find an equal number of female ones as well. They would all lower respectfully to their knees upon their Queen's arrival and remain there until told to rise by David or, if she saw fit to order it, the Queen herself.

Standing with David awaiting to be introduced were two of the Royimin officers who would each provide a vital service to the mission, to Eva, or if things went as they hoped, to both.

To David's right stood Tarlorkorikin Muru Tul, which in Universal meant first male heir of the son of Tarlorkor. He was older than anyone in the room by far, what Eva might have thought to be over 70 Earth years in age. But anyone who might think him an old man would have found themselves in a world of hurt. Despite his position as a non-combat, bridge officer not requiring it, Taylor had trained extensively in what the Royim called the Defensive Arts. Still to this day he sparred with the best soldiers in the Ground Forces training facility, demanding that no punches be pulled, no holds be barred. To ensure that his rank did not hold back his competitors, Taylor had offered to promote to ship's Senior Staff anyone who could defeat him in the ring. During his years of commanding this ship, he'd promoted but 4 men.

And 1 woman.

That woman was standing to David's right. Her name was Colariamorininna Fela Trin, third Daughter of the Grandson of Colarianmor. Claire was to be the Captain of the Queen's Bodyguard, a position she had coveted so intently that she had sparred with Taylor 6 times during the ship's transit to Planet Earth. In the process, Claire had seen her left fibula broken, her right radius broken twice, several joints twisted, and -- during her final victorious fight with Taylor -- had all four of her upper front teeth knocked out by a savage punch that nearly ended her quest for the prized position.

All of the broken bones, as well as the numerous twists, strains, cuts, and bruises, had of course been quickly repaired via the Royim's advanced medical treatment abilities. The teeth had been regrown in place using Claire's own stem cells, but unlike the other injuries, which had resulted in some temporary lack of or awkward movement, this replacement had been far more obvious. During the process as replacing teeth in place, the new features had a tendency of growing to normal length before growing to normal width, meaning that for a couple of months when she smiled, Claire had looked like a sharp-toothed, Royim Prairie Cat about to bite sink the razor-like teeth into your neck to tear out your trachea. It had resulted in a new nickname, Fang, which she had despised in the earliest days yet, after learning that Taylor had been the one to first speak it, now wore like a badge of honor.

Each of the three before Eva wore the appropriate dress for the occasion of meeting their Queen. David, she would come to discover, was a simple man when it came to wardrobe. Outside of his quarters he would always be found in the same Ambassadorial Uniform he'd been wearing when Eva and the rest of Humanity had seen him that first time. Of course, at this moment, he also wore a jacket that included tails that reached down to the backs of his knees and a wide, soft sash that ironically and incredibly was the exact opposite of Eva's justaucorps, with its trim being gold and it width being maroon.

Eva would more often than see Claire and Taylor in their Standard uninforms, with her bodyguard in the tan of the Diplomatic Corps and her ship's captain in the all black of Command Senior Staff. But at this moment, as with David, each of them wore the proof of their service and experience on their uniform, in the form of pins, medals, and other decorations showing how much they had given to the Royim way of life.

Though the snicker had scarcely been audible, it was enough for Eva’s oversensitive senses to pick up. Rather than get upset, she melted into a slight, nervous laugh herself. She had to look ridiculous. It was probably expected of her that she would have worn one of those gowns, gotten one of those magpie women to do her hair and make up and God knows what else.

Everything in that closet, save for what she wore, were just reminders of home. Of people who would appreciate them much more, who could be the Majesty or whatever it was that they were calling her. At least in this (a little overly formal, and very warm) get up, she could move with ease. Run, if need be.

She soon found herself jogging slightly to catch up with the women - she’d gotten so caught up in looking around. The splendor of wherever she was was taking backseat to a more practical nature - were there exits? Visible weapons? People lying in wait around the corner? Suspending all other outrageous forms of disbelief, if she…was even something close to being royalty, well, royals got assassinated all the time.

Huh. That was odd.

“You guys must really like the view of Earth from space,” Eva mused, taking in the view. “Tommy-boy would love this.” The picture was gorgeous - the color unlike any she’d seen before. And on this scale! “Where did you get this from? My nephew would love it.”

Sarah, allowing herself a smile, stopped in her tracks. “Why, Majesty - that’s not a photo. That’s a window.”

Eva’s brown face paled significantly. She looked out the window. Then to Sarah. Then out the window again. Something must have clicked in that head of hers, for her shoulders instantly slumped dejectedly.

So much for an escape route.

Wherever else her train of thought could have gone, it was abruptly derailed by the appearance of David. She stared at him, glassy-eyed, as he rattled off his title, her face still looking quite pale.

“You….you’re the guy from TV,” was all she could manage to stammer out, somewhat lamely.

"You ... you’re the guy from TV."

David didn't respond immediately, his mind taking a moment to covert what he'd heard, teevee, to one of the more popular forms of Earth communication, televison. He smiled, then chuckled, amused. "Yes, Majesty. From TV." He gestured between himself and the others, "I, we, are from a star system very distant from your own. Our planet is called Royim, and we call our people the Royimin."

He pronounced the word almost monotone like, without any accent: row-yi-min. "I am Royim's ambassador to Earth. And I am your Liaison to the Command Structure of this ship. If you require anything of Commander Tarlorkorikin Muru Tul--"

He paused, smiling, before half turning toward and gesturing to the man on his left, continuing, "Taylor is Captain of this vessel, and Commander of the military forces upon it."

The older man bowed again, saying simply, "Majesty."

David next half turned toward the woman on his right, but she took a half step forward, bowing her head as she said, "Colariamorininna Fela Trin, Majesty." She smiled as she rose to height. "But you may call me Claire if you wish."

David explained, "Claire is the Captain of your Bodyguard, Majesty--"

"It will be my honor," Claire cut in with a combination of professional dedication and obvious enthusiasm. "to protect you, my Queen."

David had been watching Eva's reactions and expressions, and the mentioning of the word Queen had its effect as well. He chuckled softly. "You have questions, Majesty. Yes?"



Despite David's quarters in whole being only a third the size of Eva's, the Operations portion of it was identical in size, in composition, in ability, and in performance. As in her own room, there was a large, round table that featured a digital, contoured relief map, though this one was of the world, not North America; and hanging in the air over it was another three dimensional hologram, though this one was of a Galaxy, not Planet Earth. David offered Eva a chair should she want one, then he, his Aide, and Commander Taylor took up positions around the round table distant from Eva, as if the three were the 3, 6, and 9 on a clock face and Eva the 12.

"I wish to begin by apologizing, Majesty," David began. "What you are about to hear will likely seem so foreign to you as to seem entirely implausible. Science fiction, perhaps."

As he delved into his explanation, his Aide performed a myriad of functions, from waving his hands before him; moving the pair of them closer or farther apart, up and down; or tapping his fingers before him in the air. It may have looked familiar to Eva in a way: he was essentially performing the same movements Earth children and adults had been doing with touch screens and virtual reality headsets for much of Eva's life. And as David talked and the Aide worked, the hologram dangling before Eva changed to fit what they were describing.

"Thirty five thousand years ago," he began, not bothering to clarify that he was speaking Earth years on the assumption that Eva would assume it, "the Planet Royim--" An icon floating before them began flashing softly. "--entered its First Age of Technology, similar to Planet Earth's Industrial Age. Over the next thousand years, the Royimin people advanced greatly, creating wonderful things. And horrible ones. Just as the people of Earth are in threat of now, the people of Royim nearly destroyed themselves with..."

He hesitated, looking to Eva with a solemn expression. "Well, I probably don't have to review the many dangers your planet has faced, faces now, and could face in the future. Without our help. And your guidance."

The hologram suddenly began zooming in toward the flashing Royim dot, with the Milky Way fading away beyond the spherical hologram's unseen border. "It was only when most thought our planet was doomed that a rare group of people came together to save it. They turned the horrors of science into the wonders of science. New, greater advancements followed, the greatest one of all being that of Interstellar travel."

A second dot began moving away from the Royim one, through the Milky Way, obviously representing a ship (or possibly a route through space). As it continued, it divided: first into two dots, then 4, then dozens, then hundreds. The new dots curled this way and that, heading toward and merging with bright yellow dots representing the stars, and thus the star systems of the Milky Way. But as the hologram continued to zoom in closer and closer, looking at a progressively smaller portion of the heavens distant from Royim, the billions, then millions, then thousands of stars and the ships heading toward them faded away over Eva's head and only one was left. More dots formed around this last star, these in a variety of colors and sizes that began to form into representations of the planets about which the people of Earth were very familiar.

David had continued his explanation as all this was happening before Eva's eyes. "The Royimin came to Planet Earth more than 20,000 years ago. They found an incredible planet, unique as many others had been before it. But what made Earth special was that, unlike the thousands of planets the Royimin had..."

He looked across to Taylor with confusion, missing a word. The Commander offered it, "Terraformed. This is the word Earth scientists use frequently, Excellency."

"Yes, terraform," David continued as the hologram had continued to zoom in, eventually settling on just one heavenly body, Planet Earth. He looked back to Eva, continuing, "The Royimin had had to terraform each newly discovered, habitable planet to one degree or another. Few planets had ever provided that which the Royimin had been seeking: a new world much like what Royim had once been before it..."

He didn't want to get deeper into Royim's fate, so he returned to Earth. He smiled, like a child who'd just discovered a puppy under the Christmas Tree. "It was as if Earth had been waiting for us. Oh, there were issues, of course. Microscopic organisms, the tiniest and most dangerous of living things. And there had been an intelligent species of biped that, if left undisturbed, may have one day risen to rule the planet, as the Royimin had their own. Yet, we conquered these issues sufficiently enough to settle Planet Earth..."

Without an inkling of care over having just admitted, that the Royimin had apparently conquered Earth's hominid populations, David looked back to Eva as he finished. "Your Majesty. The people of Earth. The humans of Earth. They are not of Earth at all. They are of Royim." He gave her a moment to begin soaking the information in before he continued, "Humans are ... Royimin. And you, Majesty ... are the most -- the only -- direct descendant of Royimin Queen who first ruled over Planet's Earths Royimin population."

David, Taylor, Claire, Sarah, the Aides, and the servants -- who were actually out of sight out in the foyer -- all turned to face her and as if doing so for the first time, bowed and dropped to their knees again in respect as David finished, using her given name for the first time, "You ... Eva Stark ... are the Queen of Planet Earth."

It had to be some really bizarre, well made dream. Had to be.

Or maybe she died in her sleep?

She wasn’t in pain. She wasn’t hungry. She could still feel, though - the cool silk of the dresses, the heavy brocade of her coat. This feeling of apprehension, the earlier panic attack - those had felt all too real. So had the gentle fragrance of lavender that clung to Sarah.

Even in her dazed state, she was able to acknowledge those that spoke to her - a slight flinch when introduced to Taylor - not so much at his appearance, but the weight of his title. This was the guy running the whole show. Though he looked elderly, Eva’s time among varying situs had taught her well that age meant nothing. Her eyes fixed on him, she studied him, before Claire’s voice broke her concentration. She couldn’t keep the shaky smile from coming to her face - though it was the true definition of a nervous reaction. The woman seemed to mean well enough.

It also didn’t help that she was about a head taller than Eva.

Settling herself down in the chair that David offered, it occurred to her, in a brief flash, how odd it felt to be sitting at something close to the head of the table. In the scant family gatherings that she’d attended, she was always off to the side, nestled between her sisters. She gripped the edge of her chair. Her sisters. It wouldn’t do to fidget in front of these people, but surely he had made a mistake? Before she could volunteer the fact that, technically, if she was the Queen of the Earth -because this had to be a dream-, then technically, the throne should go to the oldest — and that was Tina, not her.

Then he said the word that woke her up. ‘Guidance.’ She suddenly stood up, so hard and fast that the chair she was sitting in fell to the floor with a heavy rattle.

“….You’re meddlers,” and the volume of her voice was enough to make her flinch. “I…No. No. This? All of this,” and she yanked at her coat, tossing it onto the table, “This is absolute bullshit! Some sick experiment! You come onto a planet that’s trying to live, breathe, develop on its own and think, ‘We’re going to do it better!’ and completely eradicate the life here that was trying to be. And then you come in, now, of all times, after the two nukes, after the centuries of slavery, after all of the systematic racism, and you think, ‘Oh, we’re going to show them a better way’?! What happened to Royim?! They don’t have enough to do on their own planet so they come looking for their wayward children?”

Eva hadn’t realized how loud her voice had gotten until she swallowed and realized her throat was sore. Though she was a woman of some passion, anger like molten lava was a rarity for her. To her, the world would move on on its own accord - and there was something terrible and beautiful in the way that the Earth moved with no regard for all of the individuals jockeying for space, for recognition. It wasn’t so much the fact that they were appearing now, after all of the horrors of history, or the fact that they meddled in the development in an untapped world (which had to be against some kind of Prime Directive - where was Picard when you needed him?), but the sheer and utter gall that he, no, they had, in thinking that they knew what was best.

“…Let me guess,” she licked her lips, slowly, “If I don’t agree, you’ll wipe out what’s left of us? Hasten what we’re already doing? Or let me guess - you thought I’d be instantly honored and totally altruistic, like Snow White herself, that only wants the best for everyone? Yeah, not gonna happen. I’ve been there my entire life,” she jerked her thumb back at the screen, “And lemme tell ya, people are bloody awful. The fact that my skin has too much melanin means I’m less than human - skin color, religion, science, gender - whatever it is that could potentially make us different, we fight over it. Whatever could bring us together, we fight over it. You, us, all of this - we would have been better off being left alone. And, on top of all of this, you have the wrong sister, anyway! Christina is the oldest!”

Sweat beaded on her forehead now, and she clumsily loosened the cravat at her throat. In her sudden movements, her hair had come loose from the French braid she’d sloppily pulled it into, and it now fell around her face and shoulders, a dense curtain of rope-like coils. She raked it away from her face with a shaking hand.

David had been prepared for a number of reactions form Eva, and yet her tirade surprised him greatly. He stiffened a bit, standing tall, as she ranted at him, his mind jumping between Yes, that's true and No, you don't understand and a number of positive and negative reactions. But, showing the respect a Queen deserved, he waited until she'd gone quiet and as certainly done before responding.

"Please forgive me, Majesty," he said, giving her another bow, this one lasting longer than normal. He rose back to height, continuing, "I have explained the situation poorly. That is my failure, and after we have concluded this meeting, I will be more than willing to tender my resignation as your Liaison." He bowed again, and as he again returned to height he said with hope in his tone, "But I beg of you to let me finish before you dismiss me."

David looked to the Aide and gave him a couple of quiet orders. The relief map on which Eva's jackets was occupying Africa as if a continent wide smog disappeared; and the floating hologram of Earth was replaced with a slowly twirling image of a DNA strand with one set of genes glowing brightly.

"This, your majesty, is you," David said. He smiled for just a moment, before remembering that the Queen likely wasn't in a mood for his humor. The strand lowered to the height of Eva's face and was joined by two more. "These are your siblings."

David looked beyond Eva to Claire, who was standing at the door. She answered the unasked question, "Princesses Christina and Savannah, Excellency."

The three sets looked fairly similar except for an obvious difference in the glowing gene. A moment later, dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of DNA strands appeared above the original three, each progressively smaller as their height before Eva increased. It was probably obvious that these were meant to represent Eva's ancestors, going back thousands, even tens of thousands of years; and on each horizontal level, there was always one depiction with the glowing gene present in Eva's.

"As you can see, Majesty," David continued, "you possess what we call the Eternity Gene. In Royimin culture, titles are not passed from one generation to the next based upon the chronology of their births. Titles, and the rights and responsibilities that go with them, are a function of the Eternity Gene. You have it. Your sisters do not. And while I am sure that your sisters would be worthy of the title, Queen of Planet Earth, their lifespans are too limited to fill the office and perform the duties of Earth's ruler, tasks which may require hundreds, possibly thousands of years to complete."

He looked to his Aide again, asking, "The lifespan of the average Earth Human is...?"

"Seventy Earth years, Excellency," Claire spoke up before the Aide could. Then, with an ominous tone, she added, "And lowering."

Taylor snorted, both about the limited lifespan and about how Humankind's treatment of their planet and one another was, for the first time in the species' history, causing people to live shorter lives. David, however, only continued, "Majesty, once we have activated the Eternity Gene within you, barring accidental death, you will live to what your people would call a ripe old age ... of perhaps 3,000 years."

For a split second, watching David’s face as she ranted, a thought became crystal clear.

God, it must suck to be him right now.

Then he smiled, and she then realized she’d never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly.

It was a revelation that both startled and delighted her - the former, because of the quick rush to violence, and the latter, the realization of how freeing it was to actually admit to it. And, going further, it wasn’t that she just wanted to punch him. She wanted to literally overpower him - pin him down and make him cry Uncle, with how just so and prim he was, explaining how she was, in theory, to outlive her entire family and watch everyone she’d ever loved die. Because that was such a great and just thing.

He’d barely finished his last sentence before she was in front of him - and slapped him with a pop that was unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

“How dare you,” she hissed, between gritted teeth. She was standing over him, rubbing absently at the palm that struck him. “…How DARE YOU,” she boomed, suddenly more confident.

And that was when she knocked him off the chair.

Really, it could be explained by a myriad of things - how did he expect anyone to react calmly to essentially being kidnapped and hauled into space, let alone being told they were the ruling body of an entire planet? Or maybe it was the stress of the last few days, with the destruction of her main source of income and foster family at The First Order. Or maybe she was just tired of his face and wasn’t as calm-tempered as people assumed her to be. Or maybe (realistically) enough was enough, and he was just closer to her.

The initial knocking from the chair came as a low-bodied tackle. She’d launched herself forward, coiling back like a cat, and had made impact with his chest with enough force to send them both past his chair. As it fell, he’d find himself on the ground, pinned squarely beneath her, her arms on his shoulders, her legs on either side of his thighs, keeping him down with a combination of her weight and strength, the latter far more considerable than her appearance would have suggested.

The adrenaline didn’t hurt, either.

Rather than keep slapping him, she shook him with each statement, using it as an odd sort of punctuation. “Just who do you think you are? Any of you?! The sheer audacity! Just waltzing in after god knows how long, you take me from my home, my family, and now you tell me I’m some sort of bizarre genetic vampire and I’m going to outlive everything I’ve ever loved and known once you flip a switch because that’s what’s best for that shithole out there?! No. NO! You can send in a thousand fancy dressed runway model rejects to tell me the same thing and my answer will still be the same. You just don’t get it.” With one last great shake, she suddenly let go of him.

“Centuries of philosophy. Centuries of art. And it’s all to deal with how crummy people are to each other. The predominant religion in the world worships a gentle man who was nailed to a cross for being nice. And people commit horrors in his name because it’s the ‘right thing.’ No amount of enlightenment, from beyond the stars or closer to home, is going to get rid of that.”

Standing, her chest heaved with exertion. She didn’t look at him as she tugged at the front of her shirt, straightening its myriad billows of fabric. Then, as suddenly as she’d attacked him, she turned back to him, and offered him her hand to help him stand.

Eva's advance on him didn't surprise David. Honestly, neither did the slap. He had just overturned everything she'd ever known about her life, her people, her planet. He didn't raise a hand to defend himself or, needless to say, strike back. But David found himself at a loss when Eva knocked him to the ground and dropped her weight upon him. Unlike Taylor or Claire or possibly even some of the Aides and servants in the room, David had never in his years been struck by another person. His heart raced, as did his mind with uncertainty about how was supposed to respond, particularly when it was his Queen who was pounding him to the deck.

The reactions of the others in the room were a direct reflection of their personalities and positions. David's Aide, who wasn't about to get mixed up in a tussle between Royals, backed away from the table quickly. Taylor, the military professional who forbade fighting amongst his troops outside the sparring ring, instinctive rushed for the pair, intent on separating them by force. But he was farther from the pair than was Claire, and her duty was the protection of her Queen. And if the Queen wanted to bash the Ambassador's head into the hard deck until it cracked open, Claire would allow it. She surged forth, cutting the ship's Commander off, her hand upon the butt of her side arm, a non-lethal pulse pistol. They glared into one another's eyes, and after a moment -- without backing away -- Taylor's body language made it clear that he was not to touch Eva.

David, in the meantime, reacting instinctively and defensively, had raised his hands up to grasp at his attacker's wrists, to stop her from doing him harm. But his training in loyalty and subservience kicked in quickly and he adopted the same hands off approach Taylor had, instead only holding his hands out to the side, even unclenching his fists to splay his fingers.

"Just who do you think you are? Any of you?! The sheer audacity!"

Even though he wouldn't contemplate it deeply until later, David heard every word Eva said about Christianity and the horrors that had been committed in its name. And it wasn't just that religion, of course. His Diplomatic training had included study of most of Earth's religions, and it seemed as though each one of them had been used as a siren's call to violence at one point or another. It made no sense to him; such a contrast between the very words Eva had used, and horrors.

When his attacker was done with him and stood, David was again at a loss. Was he to rise? Was he to remain there until ordered by his Queen to rise? The answer came when, shockingly, Eva offered him a hand. David stared at the hand for a moment, then reached slowly to take it. He helped lift his weight with his free hand, and once standing lowered his eyes to the deck, saying softly, "Please forgive me for my offenses against you."

"Shall I arrest the Ambassador?" Taylor asked quickly before Eva could respond. There wasn't a great deal of enthusiasm to do what he asked in his tone, it seemed applicable to make the offer to his Queen. Taylor was a man in conflict: he was a servant to Eva just as was David or Claire or the servants in the other room or the troops aft in the barracks; but he didn't and never had believed that the fate of Mission Earth should have been put in the hands of a woman who, until just moments ago, didn't even know that Earth was hers. Realizing that he hadn't addressed her appropriately, Taylor added to his question, "Maj-esty."

Once again, another voice cut in. Claire, who had pushed her weapon back down into hits holster, turned quickly to say in a soft voice, "If my Queen would like to return to her Quarters to rest ... and make a clear determination of what to do about Ambassador Davieridicininna Muru Secu..."

And one final voice chimed in, soft, from several steps away. Sarah only said with obvious concern, "Majesty...?"

Her grip was firm and steady as she helped him to his feet. Her breathing had evened out, and now, with him standing next to her, she gave him a long, steady look. Her hair and cravat were askew, the cream stockings smudged. Her gaze, fully engaged now, was penetrating - unnerving to many. ‘Tina had called it the ‘Eva Hyper Beam’ when they were kids. She seemed to shift through every aspect of the man in front of her, weighing one unseen option after another.

Before she snorted.

“No need to arrest anybody,” she quickly said, though she’d picked up on Taylor’s tone. He was justified - she had just made a massive ass of herself in front of complete strangers. Her mother would be horrified. Not like any of that mattered now.

“You would say that,” her tone was resigned, bored, perhaps. “…You’ve never been to the Earth, have you, David?” She reached behind her, combing her fingers through her locks, and focused on pulling them back from her face.

"Have any of you?" She faced the rest of the people in the room, her expression unreadable.

"I have."

All eyes turned to Claire, who had stepped back from the fracas a couple of steps.

"For full disclosure, Majesty," Claire explained, "It was I who led the extraction team that brought you to safety aboard the ship."

Taylor and David each had, of course, known that the Captain of the Queen's Bodyguard had led the mission. It wouldn't have been appropriate for anyone else to do so.

She hesitated a short moment, trying to maintain her firm countenance. Claire had worked so hard to achieve her current position, and she'd honestly -- and perhaps naively -- thought the Queen would be appreciative, perhaps even overjoyed at having been rescued from the horrors of Planet Earth. And now, having seen Eva's reaction to everything David had told her, Claire feared that her centuries of hard work had come to an end.

Just as David had, Claire lowered her gaze to the floor as she said, "Please forgive me for my offenses against you, Majesty. I, too, will tender my resignation and offer myself for arrest at your pleasure."

Then, adding the military touch to her declaration, she raised her fisted right hand up to her chest. She did this out of duty, but also -- from training -- to ensure all around her that her hand was empty and her weapon was still in its holster. She knew that if her Queen did order her arrest, Taylor wouldn't hesitate to circle around behind her, remove the weapon, and have his own Aide take her away.

“So…” And there was that thin waver of fury - long a stranger to her voice, returning again, “You thought that the best way of bringing me here to tell me of my supposed role was to gas me? It never occurred to you that maybe something a bit more discreet,” and she looked away from Claire to everyone in the room, “just might have been a better way of handling it?”

At their faces, the bizarre eagerness to be punished for such minor infractions, she found it incredibly difficult to maintain her anger. If anything, the group of them -save the silent Taylor-, reminded her of children. Taking a deep breath, she focused on imagining what air would look like flowing into her body, a visualization technique she’d used for years to calm her down. Focusing on the richness of color, of the idea that she was, beneath everything, somehow connected to something deeper, could become the air that left her nostrils.

“Okay,” she sighed, at length. “Let’s get one thing clear: I am not having anyone arrested, or taken away, or whatever. So sit.”

Pacing back to her former seat, she knelt and set it right side up, then, in another fluid movement, sat. “None of you, save Claire, have been to the earth. Is this correct?”

Just as their reactions to Eva's assault of David had been different for the three of them, their thoughts about her question of their handling of her acquisition differed, too. Taylor had originally wanted to send a full Company of his best troops down to the surface to fetch the Queen, in broad daylight. David had dismissed that outright! He had argued for something less public, confrontational, and potentially lethal, to either force. For her part, Claire's only concern had been Eva's safety.

It had been her plan to gas the Queen's building. The whole building. In fact, just before Eva had made the walk from her quarters to David's, the Captain had gotten a report from a Ground Operative that a variety of law and health agencies with anagrams like EPA, FBI, CDC, and more were investigating the incident in Sugar Land. No one had been harmed, of course, but the lack of answers about how the residents of an entire building had passed out for 12 hours was baffling everyone.

And, of course, the reactive elements on the surface were blaming the aliens in Earth's orbit. There was just too much too coincidence: the ship was less than 1000 miles from the incident; odd explosions had rocked the town with an obvious aim of being a distraction; witnesses had claimed to see a UFO land west of Houston; and while the 24 hour period to report missing persons hadn't quite passed yet, friends and family were pressuring the local, county, state, and even federal authorities to look into the apparent disappearance of Eva Stark.

Claire began to speak, but David cut her off with, "It was my decision, Majesty. If anyone is at fault, at blame. If anyone is to be arrested and duly punished, it will be me and me alone."

“Okay, Let’s get one thing clear: I am not having anyone arrested, or taken away, or whatever. So sit.”

Claire hurried around the table behind her Queen, taking her position at the door as was expected of her. David and Taylor took their seats, but when David's Aide hesitantly moved back toward his, the Ambassador politely dismissed him.

“None of you, save Claire, have been to the earth. Is this correct?”

"That is correct, Majesty," David said. He looked about the table as he spoke. "Commander Taylor and I arrived on the ship, as you presumably watched on your tee-vee. Captain Colaria--"

He hesitated, embarrassed that he still sometimes reverted to the Royimin names after so long. But the official titles just seemed to link him to the traditional names. He continued, "Captain Claire arrived on Earth in an Advance Scout Ship two months ago to coordinate with the Reconnaissance operatives. If was her job to confirm your identity, your location, and to determine the best course of action to safely bring you up from the surface."

David looked beyond Eva to the tall and proud standing Captain, smiling to her. "Captain Claire performed with honor and skill, and I hope, your Majesty, that you will not harbor any ill feelings toward her for carrying out my commands."

"Siblings," Claire said without being prompt.

David gave her a stare that was a quiet mix of disappointment and disapproval. He hadn't wanted to broach this subject yet, but here it was. He looked back to Eva, smiled politely, then explained, "And in the course of her advanced duties on Earth, Captain Claire also investigated the possibility, should your majesty wish to take it, of bringing her siblings up to the ship as well. Siblings, parents."

He gave her a half nod, half bow to indicate that he was done speaking and ready to hear her response. In the back of his mind, David was imagining Eva coming out of her chair again to beat him up again for going there.

Her mind reeled.

She opened her mouth. Closed it, then opened it again. Took a breath, as if to speak, and was silenced again.

“So…did none of you anticipate how people would have reacted, not only to a space ship, but to your announcement? If you spent all that time following me, wouldn’t you also know that people would be alarmed if I suddenly went missing? Do you…not have families on Royim? How does your planet even work?”

They looked like her. Sounded like her. And, according to them, well, realistically, they were as human as she was. But there was a massive, fundamental difference, and one she intended to get down to the bottom of. “Did you not think of how interstellar travel to a planet that has long considered itself the only living thing in the universe might cause panic? I don’t get how that wasn’t understood.”

Taylor's patience for the ongoing conversation had been growing short. He stood and turned to leave.

"Commander!" David snapped, standing quickly. He'd been observing the man, fearing an incident.

Taylor stopped, hesitated, then turned to face David directly. But he didn't speak. Instead, he turned to face Eva, bowing slightly. With a polite tone he explained, "Forgive me, Majesty. I mean no disrespect, but ... I have duties that I must tend to."

He looked to David again. The anger was evident in the Ambassador's face. But the leader of the Diplomatic Corps nodded his head to the ship's Captain, saying, "Of course, Commander."

Taylor turned to Eva, bowing more officially before rising to height, pressing his fisted hand to his chest, and declaring, "To the Queen."

He turned and headed away. After he was gone, David looked to Eva with an apologetic expression. "Please, Majesty, do not feel slighted by the Commander's demeanor. He is a brave, loyal, fierce warrior. I personally requested him for Mission Ear--"

David caught himself in the middle of the last word. He'd told himself many times not to used the official title of the ship's venture to this system. They were just words, but in the wrong context, they might give the uninformed the opinion that the Royimin were on a military mission.

"Majesty, would you mind taking a walk with me?" David asked, already moving the few steps toward her chair and offering a hand. "I would like to show you something. Please."



They used the same passageway and elevator Eva already had, but then turned aft down the ship's Center Passage. It was the main artery of the vessel, 20 meters wide, thirty high. As with the earlier, smaller passage, it was lined with doors to various compartments, most of them open. And all along the way, each and every Royimin who caught sight of Eva bowed deeply or, if of a low station, dropped to his or her knees.

They used a second elevator to descend several decks. Emerging, they followed yet another passage to a balcony that looked down into an open space that rivaled the volume of an NFL stadium. Below them, hundreds of uniformed Royimin were working: they were performing a variety of duties, but most of them were either directly or indirectly related to the handling of containers of freight.

"This, Majesty, is the Royimin's first offering to the people of Earth," David began explaining. "Grains that will grow in arid lands without water. Medicines that will cure diseases. Filters that will purify the most polluted of water. Fusion generators, magnetic lift transports. And more."

He turned to face Eva directly, saying with an apologetic tone, "You may believe, Majesty, that we don't care about the people of Earth. You may believe that we are incompetent in our methods. You may believe--" The words caught in his throat, fearing that all he was saying was, in Eva's eyes, all too true. He continued, "--that Planet Earth would have been better off having never known that we, the Royimin, existed. That they, the Earthlings, were alone in the universe. That your people would have been better off continuing on in ignorance of the greater universe surrounding it, in what it had to offer."

David suddenly realized that the noise of work below them had ceased. He looked down into the Hold to find every man and woman on his or her knees, heads bowed. He looked back to Eva, then gestured a sweeping hand out toward her subjects, finishing, "With all due respect, my Queen, I have to tell you ... you would be wrong."

He really didn’t get it.

Anyone else would have maybe registered that with her entire lifespan, though short compared to those of the Royim, would come with years of experience dealing with Earth first hand. Experience that should be listened to, weighed, and considered. And anyone else would have grown further enraged at continually being spoken over.
Her anger was spent, soothed by the deep breaths she reminded herself to take. And looking out on those bowed before her, her heart lurched.

“…It’s all so sad,” she murmured. They were bowing simply because they were told she was queen. It had nothing to do with her personal merits, her personality. It was blind obedience at its worse, and her guts twisted painfully. As if everything else hadn’t been difficult enough to comprehend, now there was this. “I bet if I asked any one of these people to die for me, for whatever reason, they’d do it, wouldn’t they?” The question was more to herself, not to him. And she didn’t expect an answer. If anything, she would be terrified to receive one.

She had done absolutely nothing to deserve this. Never in her life had she been so fully confronted with the futility of her existence. How small she actually was. How little she’d actually done. And, back on Earth, that attitude had been okay. She felt compelled to keep searching, but it was never for something that would validate her in the eyes of others. It had simply been to follow the meandering path before her, wherever it may have lead, to find that one bright shining thing.

“David,” sadness sat in her voice, burrowed deeper with each word, “What makes you think that Earth would deserve any of this? That, if hadn’t been left alone in our own time, someone could have figured this out? Do you really think that a bounty of resources will lead people to a utopia?” There was no condescension in her voice, but an honest, open curiosity.

Since she’d arrived, she’d seen nothing of their individual personalities; just their drive to please and to serve. At least Taylor, in his gruff exit, had shown her a semblance of the man he was, and in that moment, he’d earned her respect – and partially woken her up that they were actually people; not an unending wave of cleverly crafted automatons.

She turned to face him now, taking in his full figure. He was so slight. His eyes had such a shine to them, reminding her of a child’s. Flooded with a hot wave of remorse for her actions earlier, she felt her cheeks grow warm.

“But before I go further, I have to apologize. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that – no matter how stressful this dream is. Will you forgive me?” She held out her hand to shake.

“…It’s all so sad ... I bet if I asked any one of these people to die for me, for whatever reason, they’d do it, wouldn’t they?”

David might have given a very diplomatic answer to the question if he'd had time to formulate one, but it was Claire who spoke up.

"Yes, Majesty," she declared firmly. When the pair looked her way, the Captain clarified, "Each of them has sworn their lives to your success, my Queen. And each one of them, including my own self, would give that sworn life in service to you." Her tone softened a bit, though as she added, "But they are not empty, suicidal vessels either. They believe in you, Majesty. They have never met you. They do not know you personally. They do not know who you are, but, they know what you are. You, Majesty, are their Queen. And as such, you are their future. And the future of Planet Earth."

When Eva asked about what Earth and the people living on it did or did not deserve, followed by whether or not they could have solved their problems on their own, David answered, "Royim's history followed a line very similar to that of Earth, only millennia earlier. We faced many of the problems Earth faced. And we, too, believed that at any moment in time, someone would discover a way to save the planet and, thus, the people living on it."

He glanced out over the people below who had gone back to work once their show of loyalty had been noticed by their Queen and dismissed by their Ambassador. "Eventually, that person did come along. In the nick of time." He turned back to face Eva, and while he'd tried to conceal it, his eyes showed just a bit of glistening at reminiscing about that horrific time. "We survived. But barely. We do not wish to see Earth suffer the catastrophes Royim suffered. We can prevent this. You, Majesty. You can prevent this."

He looked back out of the hard working minions, explaining, "They could do this without you, Majesty." To Eva, "But it is in our nature, the Royimin culture, to be led by a strong leader."

David had been sensing that Eva might not only be upset with how this entire episode had been unfolding but might also be questioning her ability to perform the duties that hadn't even been explained to her yet. He stepped a bit closer to her, trying to add a bit of intimate confidence to his statement without intruding on his Queen's space ... and trying to speak to her in a voice that wouldn't be heard by all, for he'd never addressed her in this way before. "You are that strong leader. Please forgive me if I take liberties you feel are a trespass, but ... Eva ... you are that strong leader. You may know that. You may not. But I know it. It's in your blood, my Queen, to lead with strength."

After a moment she apologized for having attacked him, finishing, "Will you forgive me?”

"I already have, Majesty," David said quickly, bowing his head slightly.

Then, she surprised him by offering her hand. He stared at it for a moment, took it, turned it palm down, and leaned as if preparing to kiss it. But protocol forbade such contact, so David just held the position. After a few seconds had passed, Claire spoke up from behind the pair. "You must command him to rise, Majesty."

Long road, Claire thought as she watched the pair conclude the exchange. Eva had so much to learn about Royimin culture, and more specifically Royal protocols. Claire would teach her some of it, but most of the education would come from Sarah. Then Claire had another thought: what about the Royimin learning Earth Human culture? She'd arrived on Earth a full two months before the ship, having been sent on a higher speed shuttle to link up with the Observation Team. And in just that two months, she'd learned more about Earth than she had in all of her decades long training en route to the planet.

David's attitude had improved greatly with this little walk and, particularly, with the simple but so meaningful gesture of his Queen offering her hand. He looked out upon the workers again, then back to Eva, smiling. "If you would permit me, Majesty. May I make a suggestion?" David swept his hand out over the operations taking place beneath them. "Pick something you always wanted to do. Something you always wanted to seen done. By you. By others. Anything."

"Your Excellency," Claire cut in with a concerned tone. She felt it was too early to put to work the Queen who had only been Queen for an hour.

But David only glanced to Claire, acknowledging that he'd heard her, then looked back to Eva. "Anything, Majesty. And, if it is within our power to do this, we will."

He smiled broadly. His confidence was obvious. His confidence in the Royimin aboard the ship, in their advanced technologies, and in their Queen.

How can someone believe in a total stranger?

Her expression as Claire spoke was unreadable. If anyone would have asked her how she felt, she wouldn’t have an answer. It wasn’t quite numb, nor was it overwhelmed. Somewhere between confusion, and the vague state of floundering through something that wasn’t quite real. Somewhere, something in her brain kicked at her tongue to speak, to offer a rebuttal, but she kept her mouth shut. It was becoming all the more clear that no matter what she said, that they’d have some way of combating it. Maybe if she got them one on one, there might be more of a chance of being heard. As it was now, she was developing a bit of a headache.

And as David spoke, her headache merely increased. It wasn’t living to just blindly follow someone - born to it, or voted into it. People were fallible beings - and too far removed from the natural flow of the world around them. Finally, she could hold her tongue no longer. Seeing him kneel before her, she simply let out a long sigh.

“David, you don’t know me. At all. And stand up.” She let her fingers slip through his, despite the flare of -perhaps a maternal instinct?- longing that made her want to hang onto his hand longer.

“Something I’ve always wanted to do? Train with Bruce Lee,” she said, crossing her arms and nodding definitively.

"Train with Bruce Lee.”

A confused expression filled David's face, but a moment later Claire snickered behind her Queen. When questioning eyes shifted to her, she began speaking to him in Royimin.

"English!" David snapped sharply, before then drawing a breath and saying with an apologetic tone, "Please."

"Bruce Lee, Defensive Arts master," Claire explained. Despite not having an Earthling's knowledge of the man, she tried to explain Lee as, "Combatant. Competitor. Performer." Her smiled faded a bit as she finished, "Deceased."

David's face only filled deeper with confusion: why in the World, either Eva's or his own, would their Queen wish to train in the Defensive Arts with a dead male. But Claire had seen Eva take the Ambassador to the deck earlier, and she had little doubt that her Queen already had some training in both defending herself and offending others. Before David could make an inquiry or comment, Claire made a suggestion that caused his eyes to widen with obvious dismay.

"Perhaps our Queen would like to visit our Defensive Arts Training Center. Perhaps she would like to ... spar?"