Once the princess arrived at the landing area, she and Rimush were guided to their shuttle. The Ambrosius was large for a simple transport, at least by military standard. Its design exuded the Visthan aesthetic, with a dark blue hull made of smooth contours. The ship's interior was divided into three sections, the boarding area, the main cabin, and the bedroom.

  Entering through the airlock, they took a right turn into the climate controlled interior. The staging area had a variety of tools and implements to prepare for a variety of environments, including extensive supplies for first aid and medical care. Two differently sized spacesuits hung on racks.

  “His and hers, eh?” Rimush gestured to the rack. Vanessa, unamused, continued into the main cabin.

  Vanessa sat in the copilot’s chair and began to plot an automated course through the subspace beacon network. Rimush came to sit beside her.

  “So, where to first?” Rimush looked over Vanessa’s shoulder and saw a course plotted spinwise from Vistha several jumps.

  “We are going to the nomadic region to find the Fothar clan.”

  “Introducing them to the new boss?”

  Vanessa glanced over her shoulder. “Not as such, no. We need information. I would also take care not to make such jokes in nomadic space.”

  “Right, ‘autonomous.’” Rimush sat in the pilot’s chair. “So when do you plan on telling me what it is we’re looking for?”

  Vanessa inputted the last few jumps and sighed before turning the chair to Rimush. “As I said before, it would take time to explain.”

  “We have half a nanoquad. No time like,” Rimush yawned “the present.”

  Vanessa grimaced, “How uncouth.”

  “Apologies, princess. It’s been a long day. It feels like it’s been a couple of picos since I arrived.”

  “That is because it has. The Palid day is nearly four picoquads. I suspect your ships are set to a shorter one.”

  “Yeah…three.” Rimush suppressed a second yawn. “The drinks certainly aren’t helping.”

  “At least you’ve composed yourself a bit better than my brothers and the emperor. I’m sure my father will be overjoyed when he hears them practice their Raleighan in the castle.”

  “Well, how’d you do it?”

  Vanessa leaned back in her chair. “Do what?”

  “Learn Raleighan.”

  “I’ve learned a great many things. I don’t have the inclination to track when and how.” Vanesa stood from the chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I will retire for the evening.”

  “Wait, shouldn’t we take off, first?”

  “We already have,” Vanessa gestured toward the windshield.

  Rimush, too exhausted to notice earlier, looked out to see that they were ascending into the upper atmosphere of Palid. “So we have…” He was caught unaware by the lack of acceleration felt inside the cabin. “I suppose now’s as good a time as any to sleep.” He stood and took a step toward the bedroom.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Vanessa said with a look of reprimand and disgust.

  “To sleep.”

  “This is my bedroom. I don’t know what plans you had, but you will not be entering here.”

  “Well where am I supposed to sleep!?”

  “You’re a dog, aren’t you? Sleep on the floor.” Vanessa turned to enter the bedroom. “Good evening.” The door shut behind her, lock engaged.

  Rimush simply stood and snarled. He sat back down in the pilot’s chair to try to calm himself. “...what an insufferable, spoiled Vix…”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Rimush removed his jacket to serve as a blanket, reclined the shair, and tried to find a comfortable position to sleep.

  -

  Vix Varygoff, queen of Vistha, stood in the war room set up in the castle’s bunker. A mile beneath Prassur with a lake overhead. If not for a subspace relay allowing for communications, there would be no indication to the outside galaxy that this room existed. Screens covered the walls, displaying ship deployments, defensive statistics of Visthan worlds, and the progress of the Raleighan fleet under the command of emperor Aliwan as it pushed through barricades set up at each subspace beacon around the coreward border of Visthan space.

  Minister Thomas Bismark approached the central command station. “Your majesty, The next fortification along the projected path is Swansea. Prince Edmund commands the defense there.”

  Vix didn’t turn from the screen in her table. “They’re in Vistha, now.”

  “Only if they can penetrate the blockade on the Lundy beacon, your majesty.”

  “Reach my brother. Now!” Vix stood and raised her head toward the main screen on the wall. The busy chatter of elven commanders and the input on terminals ceased as video communication was established.

  A muscular, brown haired elf appeared on screen, suit covered in military decorations. “Your majesty, what an honor. You’ve called just in time for the routing.” He had a smug, self assured look on his face. Behind him, dozens of elves standing at attention, seemingly having been interrupted mid preparations.

  Vix yelled past prince Edmund, “Everyone, back to work!” Movement restarted in both rooms, but with conversations now in terse whispers. “Edmund, Aliwan’s fleet will be in Swansea presently. Their forces have only attrited by a quarter. You need to evacuate key personnel out of the path to regroup with the nomadic fleet.”

  “Surely you cannot be serious! We don’t need the commoners’ cobbled together freighters to come to our defense.”

  “Swansea cannot defend against a force of thousands of ships! The Visthan fleet needs its admirals. Give the order to retreat.”

  “Respectfully, dear sister, let your older brother take care of this problem. We are more than prepared to hold out against some foreign dogs.” He turned to listen to an elf reporting to him off screen. “Ah, what impeccable timing! The Raleighan fleet is in the system.”

  Edmund pressed a few buttons on his terminal to add an overlay of Swansea’s defenses to his broadcast.

  “Edmund, you are too exposed. Leave!” Vix struggled to maintain her composure in front of her people.

  “I shall not abandon my troops when victory is at hand!” Edmund gestured to another elf out of view. “Launch the drones as soon as they are inside the orbit of the outer moon.”

  Vix watched the feed, giving up on convincing her brother to retreat and stood powerless, hoping for his victory.

  The Raleighan fleet arrived, terminating subspace jumps just outside of orbital distance from the planet. The perspective of the camera stationed at the nearby moon showed the Raleighan fleet covering the planet like a swarm of locusts.

  “Now!” Edmund ordered. A dense flood of drones shot in at high speed from Swansea’s furthest moon. Laser weapons caused minor damage to the Raleigh cruisers, causing greater damage to the smaller ships and interceptors.

  As the swarm fought, several drones attached themselves to a dreadnought. “Watch, your majesty, as I crush these dogs!” Edmund brought his hand down like a knife in the direction of another subordinate. The video feed showing the fleet was temporarily blinded by a blue glow that dazzled the screen. Once the light died down, a large spherical mass in the previous location of the dreadnaught revealed itself. Several ships, nearly a hundred apparently, had collided and been crushed into its hull. The Raleighan fleet began to break apart, heading back to the subspace beacon.

  “See these dogs run, your majesty? These barbarians could not anticipate our superior tactics, and run at the first sign of resistance.”

  The tactical display showed a wing of sixty one Raleighan ships, including multiple battleships, breaking off the retreat and surrounding the planet, launching kinetic ordnance toward the surface as they orbited.

  “Edmund, it’s not over yet.” Vix was cautious but hopeful.

  “A single wing of ships dispersed in an indefensible position. We will have this cleaned up shortly.”

  “As soon as this is done, I am recalling you to Prassur!” Vix was frustrated, but relieved.

  Edmund reinforced his smug grin. “For my medal ceremony, no doubt. I shall need to make room.” He laughed at his own joke before the feed was suddenly cut off.

  Vix turned to the Minister, confused. “Thomas, what just happened? Get prince Edmund back on screen.”

  “At once, your majesty.” The Minister began fiddling with the display’s controls, cycling through dozens of dead feeds. “I don’t understand, your majesty. It seems none of Swansea’s broadcasts are functioning, nor its near moons.” A few more button presses, “I have the far moon.”

  On screen, a small molten core surrounded by a cloud of white hot rock.

  “What are we seeing, Minister?”

  The Minister took a moment to gather himself. “Majesty, that...” he cleared his throat, “that is Swansea.”

  Vix stood frozen, staring at the display.

  Vanessa woke, dried tears on her face. “Edmund…”

  The bedroom on the Ambrosius was a faithful recreation of her castle bedroom, save for the mess she generated. She turned to her side and rubbed her eyes. The bedroom felt like a prison cell. It only reminded her of feeling trapped twenty nine nanos in the capital city. Despite the freedom that this courtship granted her, she felt an inexplicable despair and hopelessness.

  Checking the display near the door, it had been nearly a picoquad since she went to bed. She did not feel any motivation to leave her bed. She pulled the sheets over her head and returned to sleep, hoping for different dreams.