(fair warning, this is a long one…)

 

It was a solemn group that gathered in the ancestral glade behind the Palace of the Dronung. The sky of Naesavarna was murky grey and overcast, as if the planet of the Jotunn itself was in mourning for the fallen prince.

In a clearing between the mighty trees, a group of people gathered. Their number was over a dozen, but the air of solemnity about them, and the way they drew close to comfort one another made them seem far fewer. Each wore the dark red cloak that was the traditional bereavement attire among the Jotunn.

At the center of this group, a man who normally stood tall and strong, unbent by the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders, now looked as if the urn he carried in his hands was too much for him to bear. On other days, he was Emperor of Archavia; today he was simply a father who grieved for his fallen son.

Tiernan ColVanos’s heavy gaze fell upon all those gathered in the glade. His family surrounded him, and they drew what strength they could from one another. After some time, Tiernan’s eyes met those of his wife. There were no tears in Rajenlif’s eyes. Like Tiernan, she would remain strong for the sake of her family.

The Empress met his gaze steadily, and nodded. They were ready to begin.

Tiernan hefted the urn he carried in his arms. Normally, Jotunn tradition called for cremation but Antero’s act of sacrifice left no remains behind. What Tiernan carried was soil and ash taken from the place where Antero had fallen in battle.

In the center of the group was a small hole dug into the ground, halfway up Tiernan’s forearm in depth. Into this hole, the Emperor poured the soil and ash that was all that remained of his oldest child. He knelt beside the hole for only a moment in silent contemplation, before rising and returning to his former place in the circle.

After a moment’s hesitation, Gunvjer broke away from where she stood in the circle and knelt next to the erstwhile grave. She looked over her shoulder at the Empress and nodded. Rajenlif stepped forward. In her hands she held a curved ceremonial dagger forged from bronze and polished to the point that gleamed even in the murky light of the glade. She took the end of her daughter-in-law’s golden braid in one hand and, pulling it tight, she cut it free as close to the scalp as she could.

Rajenlif slipped the dagger into the belt around her waist, and reverently held Gunvjer’s braid out to her.

Antero’s widow took the woven lock of hair from the Empress and bent it into a wide loop, which she carefully placed around the mound of ash that was all that was left of her husband.

As Tiernan had, she stayed in place for a moment, before standing and returning to the spot she’d vacated in the circle. She turned to her son, her eldest child, and gently guided him forward with her hand.

Prince Kaleva hesitated for only a moment before breaking away from his family and stepping forward to the grave. He knelt to the ground and placed a single seed in the center of the pile of ash. Unlike his mother or his grandfather, he did not linger at the edge of the hole for very long.

Next, the assembled members of Antero’s family each took a handful of dirt from the pile that had been taken from the hole and returned it from where it had come. First, Antero’s nieces and nephews, then his brothers and sister in law, his sisters, his children, his parents, and finally his wife.

After the hole had been filled, Tiernan carefully patted the disturbed soil tight. The seed they had chosen for their son’s interment was a katalah tree. A hardwood with thick bark and wide leaves that was native to Naesavarna. It would grow well; tall and strong. Like the trees of his ancestors.

Tiernan lingered for only a moment longer at the final resting place of his only son. Then, he turned and led his family out of the glade where their ancestors slept.

*.*.*.*

“Incoming transmission for you, sir. Priority, from the dodecahedron.”

Zhan looked up from the computer screen on his desk and over at the intercom speaker. His eyebrow quirked curiously, but of course his secretary couldn’t see that. After a moment he reached over and pressed the call button.

“Thank you, Jael. Patch it through.”

Zhan took a deep breath. He’d been expecting this call for some time now, it was just a question of whether he’d have a job or not afterwards.

His screen blinked, flashing the Imperial Insignia for a moment before that disappeared to be replaced by a familiar face.

“Praetor Imperator Nix;” Zhan acknowledged the head of the imperator corps. “What can I do for you?”

“Epistratichos, I-”

“Not anymore.” Zhan interrupted, shaking his head. “That rank no longer exists.”

Vanser smiled thinly. There’d been no bitterness in Zhan’s words, only acknowledgement of fact. “That may be the case, Mr. Tarsuss, but that doesn’t undermine all the work you put in to earn it.”

Zhan shrugged.

“That is part of why I’ve called you today, however;” Vanser continued. “I’m sure you’re aware of the current efforts to fold a portion of the Avalon Guard into the Imperial rank structure.”

“Better late than never, I suppose.” Zhan said with a wry grin. “Manto’s very proud of her three silver boxes, by the way.”

“So she should be.” Vanser smiled. “Now stop trying to stall me so I can ask you what I’ve called to ask you.”

“All right.” Zhan said. “Ask away.”

“The Imperial gov-”

“No.”

Vanser sat back, shocked at being interrupted, again. “No? You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you.”

Zhan grinned ruefully. “It’s easy enough to figure out. The Military is snapping up the brightest and the best from the Avalonian Guard, and good for it. Since you’re the one calling me up, I have to assume you want me for your branch. As flattered as I am by the idea, I am neither young enough to go traipsing around the sector playing spy nor am I particularly inclined to sit behind a desk in Tuaut, whichever you have in mind.”

“Well, the latter is closer, but you’re still wrong.” Vanser grinned.

Zhan sat forward. “Oh?”

“If I may continue?” Vanser asked wryly. “I am intending to draft you into the special investigative branch, but only so that I can put you right back where you are.”

“Right back…?” Zhan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Did you assume that we were begrudgingly taking on human soldiers because they’ve already been trained so we might as well?” Vanser asked rhetorically. “Of course not. The acolyte and jack programs are very impressive, Zhan; and we recognize that we’re going to have need for talented human soldiers in the future, and not just right at this moment. Mr. Tarsuss, what I’m offering you is the rank of Sebastokrator-Imperator and command of all military operations in the Avalon Province.”

“What military operations?” Zhan asked incredulously.

“Well, for one, the higher ups want you to continue the academy you already have in place. You’ll have to conform to our regulations of course.”

“Of course.”

“There’s also this;” An image appeared in the corner of Zhan’s screen. After a moment of scrutiny, Zhan realized what he was looking at were plans for a space station. It shared similarities with both Valhalla and Folkvangr stations, but it was obvious even at first glance it was meant for military use.

Zhan let out an appreciative whistle.

“This is Satellite MAPЭ0Ж.” Vanser said and the pride in his voice was self-evident. “I’ve been petitioning for the name ‘Ragnorak’ but it’s been a hard sell.”

“Well, it would be on theme.” Zhan replied with a laugh. “Is this to be my command then?”

“Not exactly.” Vanser said. “It would certainly be a base of operations for you, but command of the day-to-day aspects of a station is a bit below your pay-grade. For a station this size, you’re looking at probably a Centurium for command.”

“Hm.” Zhan scratched his chin contemplatively. “Well, Praetor-Imperator I must say you do put forth an intriguing offer.”

“Don’t answer me right away.” Vanser shook his head. “I’d rather not be on Pryvani’s bad side. Take a few days and talk it over with the wife. How about you give me your answer after the ceremony?”

Zhan nodded. That would give him some time to mull it over, though he was pretty sure which way he was leaning. “I’ll do that. Now… Speaking of my wife, Praetor-Imperator if you’ll excuse me, I do have a trip to prepare for.”

“Of course.” Vanser smiled, “I’ll see you there.”

The communication screen blinked closed and Zhan stared at his desktop for a moment, lost in thought.

“Are you going to take the job?” A familiar voice brought him back to the present. Zhan looked up to find his wife standing in front of the door to his office.

“You know, they’re supposed to warn me when I have visitors.” Zhan grumbled half-heartedly.

Pryvani smiled and sauntered across the room towards her husband’s desk. “Don’t blame them, I cheated. I set the holograms to put me right outside your door.” She sat on the edge of his desk and crossed her legs, before turning to face her husband. “So… Are you going to take the job?”

Zhan suddenly found he had a hard time keeping track of the conversation. Though he wasn’t sure if that was because of the way Pryvani ran her fingers through his hair or because of his face almost being buried in her cleavage as she leaned forward. He assumed both. It was probably both.

“Well…” It took a herculean effort but Zhan managed to wrench his train of thought away from Pryvani’s blouse and back to the matter at hand. “I can’t say I’m not tempted. For all intents and purposes, the Avalonian Guard isn’t going to exist for much longer. And, if I’m perfectly honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to sitting around the house all day with nothing to do except spend your money.”

“Our money, dear.” Pryvani said emphatically.

“I know. I’m just kidding.” Zhan smiled. “And at least this way they aren’t going to put me on a ship, or something.”

“They still could.” Pryvani’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Zhan could see the worry behind her mask.

“They could.” Zhan admitted. “But I don’t think they will. Imperators don’t usually get assigned to ships. Not to mention with Darren and Lysis both out, I’m the next logical choice to keep the Jack and Acolyte programs running. I can be of use. Plus, you know, being the highest ranked human in the Empire isn’t a bad perk either.” Zhan finished with a grin.

Pryvani shook her head, amused. “No I suppose not.”

“I mean, who knows? Maybe someday you’ll be married to the first human Imperii.”

“How about for the time being, you just focus on getting packed for the trip?” Pryvani smiled as she slid off of Zhan’s desk. “You can worry about future honor and glory later.”

“Yes dear.” Zhan laughed.

*.*.*.*

Three days later

Rixie flashed her ID card to the guard at the front desk. He didn’t check it closely, but only because she’d had it checked four times already. You didn’t make it to this part of Darien Station without a high-level clearance, or an invitation, or both.

Rixie had both.

She wasn’t surprised that she’d been asked to make this detour. Slightly annoyed, yes, but only slightly, and only because of the timing of it – she did not want to be even a second late for the ceremony.

But she’d known this was coming from the moment Ysabra Ylym had let his secret slip. And while she’d never admit it, she was glad. Well, sort of. She didn’t want to leave Asteria and Alex alone on Avalon. But they’d damn near killed Ryan. And they’d killed Aerti Bass, Niall Freeman, Prince Antero…and so very many others. There were going to be too many awards passed out today. Too many Martyrs to Archavia.

No officer who’d faithfully served the Emperor would refuse service. Hells, if they weren’t going to Article 42 her, she’d probably have to re-enlist.

Not that she’d admit that. She instead had muttered darkly most of the way here, and would mutter darkly most of the way back.

She entered the room she’d been directed to, and nearly froze; indeed, out of habit and shock, she came to attention and saluted. “Carey, Rixie. Reporting as ordered,” she said. “Praetor Imperii, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And Navarchos Zyn…I definitely wasn’t expecting you. How are you?”

Zyn nodded to Rixie. “First of all, at this point you can definitely call me Teustus. Or grandpa, as you tend to when we’re discussing Tol-Bot. And second…I’m well. Thank you for the message, it meant a lot.”

Rixie sat down next to him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I just….”

“No, no, you were where you needed to be. Torez was, more than anything, a great father. He would have understood staying at your child’s side when they were as badly injured as Captain Carey was. And I certainly did. I’m very glad to hear he’s recovered. And very glad to hear he will be joining the fleet. If he’s half the officer his mother is, we will be fortunate to have him.”

Rixie broke protocol, and grabbed her former commanding officer’s hand. “He’s better than I ever was, sir. But…I meant it. I can’t imagine how it must be. If you need anything….”

“We had sixty good years,” Zyn said, squeezing her hand. “More than that, really, we were dating when I was still in the academy, and he was in college. I miss him. Always will, I hope. But I got to be his husband. Nothing I’ve ever had is more important. His husband, and together, Joset’s fathers. You understand.”

“Yes, sir. I do,” Rixie said. “And I’m sorry, Praetor Imperii Lagvul, but….”

“You’re just continuing the conversation we were already having,” Carva Lagvul said. “I’m surprised he was willing to come here, frankly. I told him that he didn’t have to. Frankly felt bad calling him.”

“The other thing about Torez,” Zyn said, with a slight mist in his eyes, “was how understanding he was of my career choices. He would have expected me to go, with a sigh and a groan and a bit of relief that he’d have a few days to read in peace without me puttering about the house and suggesting home renovation projects. Besides, I needed to be at the ceremony. Aerti Bass is receiving the Imperial Clade. I wanted to be there to pay my respects to his widow. He was a gorram fine captain, a fine adjutant, and a fine navarchos.”

“So say we all,” Lagvul said. “And as noted, all three of us should be at the reception as soon as it starts, so let us get down to business.”

Rixie nodded. “Sir, I expect you have ordered me here to recall me to service. I would ask for a chance to go back to Avalon just long enough to tie up some loose ends before I take my post.”

“Well. You are correct, or at least partly correct. I am formally recalling you to active duty, Magister-Imperator Carey, effective immediately. Indeed, all officers subject to Article 42 recall are being brought back. As for your post, well…I wanted Teustus to discuss it with you. It was his idea, back when he was serving as Imperii.”

“It was a crazy idea,” Zyn chuckled. “But then, that’s rather the point of it. Magister-Imperator Tam, the first thing I want to tell you is that the Dodecahedron will ensure that this position does not break kayfabe, at least officially.”

Rixie had been nodding at the start of Zyn’s sentence; that stopped at the word kayfabe. “Um…sir….”

Zyn chuckled. “Rixie, what does the Imperial Military need more than anything? That’s a rhetorical question, I don’t need you to answer it. The answer is simple: tactical creativity. The ability to game plan for novel situations.”

“That’s true, sir. That’s why there’s the Joint Working Group.”

“Oh, yes, and they’re quite busy, as you’d expect. But one problem with the Joint Working Group is that they’re career officers working within the parameters of orthodox practices. But of course, war is not orthodox. The Insectoid attack was not by the book. And the way we defeated them…it came from a bit of luck, a bit of guts, and a civilian who understood physics at a very deep level. That’s not something we could have planned for. Moreover, Earth has started constructing new Acolytes and training new pilots. We they have some ideas about how they can be used, and so do we – but how exactly do we integrate them with the fleet? We don’t know. The Joint Working Group sees them as tiny fighters. I think they’re missing the point.”

“As do I,” Lagvul said. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re good at what they do. But they’re used to the parts they’re used to. They’re moving carriers and strike cruisers, Scilith wings and assault forces. They aren’t sure how to work with new weapons they haven’t seen before – or new Insectoid tactics. They will be. I believe that. But they need to be challenged.”

“Are you asking me to join the Joint Working Group?” Rixie asked.

“No. You’re too valuable,” Lagvul said. “You’re one of the best tactical minds of your generation. I know, because the best tactical mind of his generation says so. I trust Teustus Zyn’s analysis. I trust Lord Black’s analysis even more.”

Rixie looked back to Zyn, and shook her head. “You can’t be serious. It’s a game.”

“That’s right, it is,” Zyn said. “A game that uses weapons systems and tactics from vastly different eras, and different worlds, and different species. You can’t be a Tol-Bot Grand Champion without understanding how to use forces in ways that your opponent won’t expect, won’t even imagine.”

“That’s true,” Rixie admitted. “But it’s still simplified. As good as the AI is, it isn’t perfect. It isn’t real.”

“Of course not,” Lagvul said. “But we don’t need that level of perfection. What we want is a group of people who work on novel problems. We don’t want you to put together the order of battle for attacks on the Hive. We want you to consider what would happen if the Hive turned against itself, or if Acolytes can be used to infiltrate a Hive Ship, or…well…or things we aren’t even thinking about. Starting with how we utilize the Acolytes best when working with the fleet. Do we fly CAP? Do we send them ahead as scouts?”

“CAP, maybe, but scouting…that’s where they’ll excel. Especially if we can drop them in among some detritus. We’d have to figure out how to mask their power signatures, though – they’re not really stealthy when running full-out. But if we could….”

Rixie nodded. “Okay, I see what you’re thinking. And I’m happy to do that. But you said you want a group.”

“Exactly,” Teustus said, with a grin. “This was my old plan, that Carva’s dusted off. The 67th Special Analysis Group.”

“67th? Not, say, 96th?”

“No, because I came up with it, so we go with my first title, not yours,” Zyn said. “The group is to be made up of Tol-Bot players; it’s commanded by a senior officer who’s got Tol-Bot experience, preferably a retired one. At the time, I thought it might be a way to keep my hand in after I retired, but…well, Torez wanted me to stay home, and for the first time in my life, I really did too. Besides, Ziah Solis wasn’t too enamored with out-of-the-box thinking.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He came up with some interesting plans,” Rixie said blandly. “Albeit awful ones.”

“True. My initial thought was that it would be a military director and civilians, but there is a war on, after all.”

“Anyone you wanted to bring in would be brought in, officially, as a JC4C or Miles-Probatio, unless they served before, then they come back at the same rank they previously held. They’ll be in a special category; they won’t be transferrable; they will have the right to resign their commission even during the war. But I want them to hold a rank; we need them to be accountable.”

“What about people with Avalonian ranks?” Rixie asked.

“There are some…issues with Darren Xanthopolous,” Lagvul said.

“No, there aren’t, Carva,” Zyn replied.

“You aren’t Imperii anymore,” Lagvul said.

“No, I’m not, but I’m an old man and a patriot and a new widower, and all three of those give me the right to speak out of turn without fear. Xanthopolous did the Empire a favor by hiding the Acolytes from us. I understand he’s planning to retire from his job in politics. So there you go, he’s fallen on his sword.”

“But he’d have access to secrets,” Lagvul said.

“You think he won’t? He’s been working with Earth’s military. He commanded Ted Martínez and met him and Xú Mùlán on Titan Station during First Contact. We’re sharing this level of information with the JTDI; if he wants to get his hands on it, he’ll be able to. Fraks’ sake, Carva, you don’t think the humans had a reason to hedge their bets? The thing he was hiding is the very thing we need help integrating.”

“I’m not sure Minister Segdi will be pleased. Or the Floor Leader,” Lagvul said. “I know, Armac was friends with him, but that was before all of this.”

“Sir,” Rixie said, “There are two cards I can play that will clear any objections the Floor Leader might have.”

“Oh?” Lagvul said.

“Loona Armac might say no to you, and she might say no to me. But from everything I know of her…she won’t say no to the Iron Maiden. She has been a rather serious fan for a long time. Serious enough that I haven’t broken kayfabe to tell her. But this is reason enough.”

“And if her fandom doesn’t work?” Lagvul asked.

“Well,” Rixie said, “I want Felltree in the group, obviously. Felltree is a good friend of Darren’s. She technically owned him at one point, prior to the Zeramblin Act’s passage.”

“Armac would listen to Felltree?”

“Armac is sleeping with Felltree,” Rixie said, amused despite the seriousness of the situation. “Has been for, oh, two decades or so. If I can’t convince her, and Iron Maiden can’t convince her…I’m quite certain that Aisell Maris can convince her.”

*.*.*.*

New Trantor was a vast metropolis even on the scales by which Titans reckoned. The largest city by population in the Empire, and arguably more important than Tuaut. It was certainly wealthier. The government of the Empire ran out of Tuaut, but this was the center of Imperial commerce, a city that had been born in the early trade between the colonies of the Core, trade that had soon eclipsed that with Archavia.

The Palace of Daraean fit nicely into the skyline of New Trantor. Of the palaces the Royal Family called home, this was the newest, and the most modern. Indeed, it was a skyscraper in its own right, with its first sixty floors given over to the Imperial government.

On the seventy-sixth floor, the third from the top, a small gathering was being hosted by the Royal family for the award recipients who would be honored later that evening and their families.

The Palace wasn’t the tallest building in New Trantor, but this was the highest open-air deck. They were almost five miles above the surface; buildings taller than this were sealed and pressurized. It didn’t do one much good to go walking around admiring the view if one suffocated shortly afterward.

Tig walked to the edge of the small courtyard, looking out over the vast metropolis of New Trantor, feeling very far from home.

As it was, Tig could feel the slight sting of the altitude. It had been a while since she had. Indeed, it had been nine years ago, in this very spot. She and seventeen other cadet-recruits had taken their oath of loyalty to the Emperor here, from the Governor herself. They had a reception in the palace, overseen by the Emperor’s representative. Two weeks later, they were shipping out for Archavia and the Space Academy.

Tig looked now, as she had then, out into the distance, toward the Bay Bridge, which connected New Trantor with its largest suburb, Viktorais. She could see Husmu Daraean Starbase just south of it, and tracing further south past an industrial area, just at the edge of walking distance, there were a series of residential condominiums. In a modest-but-pleasant building, in that sea of glass and titanium and carbon, was the place she’d grown up, the condo her parents had purchased after they’d lived in New Trantor two years, after Oed was promoted to lead pilot. Her parents still lived there; she had been there this morning, with the entire family, including Dorotea and Juan, and Simene and Haemo, and César, and of course, Ted.

They were there for her big day. The biggest in her career, she supposed; the biggest in anyone’s career. The award she was going to earn was not one you dreamed of winning, not really. You might imagine the Praetor’s Award, even the Imperii’s Award. You might even imagine being inducted into the Order of the Emperor. But the Imperial Clade…those few officers who earned it were better than she’d dared dream she could be.

She still felt that way, even knowing that shortly, they’d be going in for the ceremony proper. That the Emperor himself would shake her wrist, and bow to her – him, bow to her. He would touch a sword to her shoulders, and pin the ribbon upon her dress greens, and declare her one of the truly great citizens of the Empire, one of the greatest ever to live.

And she hated the thought of it. Despised it, to her very core.

“I didn’t know you were Jotnar,” a voice said from behind her.

She turned, and then bowed. “Your Imperial Highness. I…I’m not Jotnar. Why…oh,” Tig said, flexing her artificial left hand. “No, no, I just…it’s two weeks to get a new one put on, and another two weeks where it’s got to be checked…I barely have time to get back here for a few days. Maybe, down the road….”

Rhionne smiled. “I suppose you’re on Titan Station. Not a lot of limb transplant specialists wandering around.”

“If there were, I’d have to put them to work doing something more important. The arm works. That’s good enough for now,” Tig sighed.

“You sound like my brother,” Rhionne said. “He had a bad infection, blew out his eardrum. Replacement would take maybe three days in Tremarla, but he was busy on Vakor, so he just had the station surgeon fit a temporary artificial eardrum, which he used for three years before my dad finally got fed up with it. He had Brinn Pria fly from Avalon to Vakor to do the surgery – have you met Brinn?”

“A few times; I was pregnant on Avalon, so she checked me out. Her daughter, Manto, served on Titan Station for a while, I probably know her better,” Tig said.

“Their whole family is nice. We got to know them back when we were having our children – the first few hybrid kids, other than Sorcha, most were born on Avalon, you know.”

“Yeah,” Tig said. “I suppose that makes sense. You…I owe you a lot, you know,” she said. “Ted and I…I mean, I didn’t realize it, but the way the timeline worked out….”

“Hirera was one of the first,” Rhionne said, smiling. “And I’m glad. There are a lot of hybrid kids running around now, making the Empire great. You have a son, right?”

“Yeah,” Tig said. “I don’t know as he’s gonna live up to Sorcha Freeman’s example. He’s more into cartoons and, you know, mania.”

“Well, it’s early,” Rhionne said. “And you and your husband are rather impressive parents. I wouldn’t bet against him.”

Tig sighed. “The…I saw the press conference, with Prince Pierce, and the rest of you. I’m glad you’re finally able to be open about him.”

“You don’t even know,” Rhionne said. “It’s been a very long time to keep a secret. Daz and I are lucky that Pierce was willing to accept the indignity of it. He didn’t have to. He’s never complained about it…and I know, he always said he was lucky, and didn’t have reason to…but he did. But he was willing to stay hidden forever, you know? Because even with him being equal, a full citizen…there are still people who don’t understand.”

Tig nodded. “If you’ll pardon my language, Your Imperial Highness, they’re gorram idiots.”

“Gorram right, Centurium,” Rhionne said with a smile. “And at least there are people like you out there, who heard the press conference and already knew why someone would fall in love with a human.”

Tig frowned, though, and looked back at the city for a second. “I found out before the press conference, actually.”

“Oh?” Rhionne said. “I suppose I’m not surprised. You’ve run into enough Avalonians, someone was bound to mention it.”

“It wasn’t them,” Tig said. “Your brother told me. During the battle.”

Tig took a very deep breath, but didn’t look back. She hadn’t talked about it much. She supposed she should be proud. She was being recognized for this, honored for this. But it just seemed…empty.

“I had asked for permission to lead the assault on the dropship. It was a stupid, stupid tactical decision, but it wasn’t about tactics. I could accept dying and failing. I couldn’t accept living, and knowing that I’d let a hundred thousand people die. So I’d requested permission, and Centurium ColVanos denied it, and took it on himself.”

Tig stared out over the city, and blinked back tears. “I asked him if he was sure…we all knew that most of us were going to die, probably all of us were. Him staying behind…I mean, he was the prince. He was already doing more than anyone thought he had to. But he told me he was connected to the humans by blood…like I was. And that he’d spill his blood if it meant saving them.”

Tig was quiet for a long moment.

“He put me on point, and I was glad, you know. That’s the most dangerous position. He was in the rear. I thought that…I figured I’d probably die, he’d probably survive, and that was okay with me. He was taking a risk, we all were, but I figured if anyone survived it, he would, and he could explain to Ted…and Ted would have hated it, but he would have understood, he would have. But Centurium ColVanos….”

Tig wiped her eyes with her right hand. “I’m alive because of him… Because he died to save me. I’m so sorry,” she said.

Rhionne put her left hand gently on Tig’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“He was the prince, gorram it! He wasn’t supposed to die. I should have…there should have been a way….”

“Centurium Belfsec,” Rhionne said, “I loved my brother. He was a good man and a good sibling. He made the choice to go in and fight for humans, same as you, because he knew, just like you, that one Titan life is worth exactly one human life – no more, no less. And that if he could die, and his death could save even two human lives, then his death would be worth it. And in death, he saved many more – because you were able to live long enough to complete his mission. He died so you could get to the ship, and stop those frakkers from taking off. And because of that…his death was worth it.”

Tig shook her head. “He deserved the award he’s receiving today, Your Imperial Highness. I….”

“You lost an arm finishing the job,” Rhionne said. “And gorram near lost your life. It took his blood and yours to save them, and the blood of what, eleven more people, right?”

“Yeah,” Tig said.

“All of you,” Rhionne said. “All of you spilled blood to save those people. You’re all linked by blood. You’re connected to Antero by blood. You and those who died and fell injured that day are his brothers and sisters, and mine as well. So sister… don’t ever feel you’re unworthy of what you’re going to receive today. There were five officers in that assault who earned the Imperial Clade – and all of you earned it. Centurium…Antero always worried that he wasn’t a ‘real’ officer. That he was in the position he was because he was a prince. But in his last duty…his last command will live in legend. And should. In his last moments of life, he proved to everyone, including himself, that the star he wore was not his by luck.”

“He was a gorram fine officer, Your Imperial Highness,” Tig said.

“You are too,” Rhionne said. “Don’t ever doubt that. Now, I know there isn’t much time left before the ceremony. I do hope your husband was able to come.”

“Yes, he was, he’s over talking with Captain Carey,” Tig said, squinting at a raised platform where a small group of humans were gathered. “I don’t recognize all of the others from this far away.”

“Well, one of them is my husband,” Rhionne said. “I hope he isn’t trying to talk about hockey. He always does when he runs into someone from Earth.”

“Ted actually likes hockey. His mom was born in…I think it’s ‘Minnesota.’ Something like that. It’s in the North part of the United States, I know that much.”

“Well, then maybe Ted will humor him,” Rhionne said with a smile.

“He’d better,” Tig said. “And he will. He’s the diplomat of the family. And Your Highness…thanks,” Tig said.

“Thank you,” Rhionne said, as the two crossed the courtyard, together.

On the other side of the courtyard, Zhan leaned back in his chair and half-listened as Pierce ColVanos expounded on the finer points of that ice-game he liked with Ted Martinez. Pierce had had many discussions on the game with Zhan over the years, but the Avalonian man just couldn’t seem to find the appeal in it. Granted, part of the reason might be because Atlantis, being close to the Avalon equator, really didn’t see much of a winter.

But Zhan was willing to indulge Pierce. Not only because it was something from Earth, which Zhan always found interesting, but also because over the years Zhan and Pierce had developed a fairly close friendship. The two of them had bonded over their wives having to keep their marriages a secret. Neither had enjoyed the situation, though both had understood the necessity, and it was helpful to have another who could sympathize with the frustration. Not only that, but they were both physically the same age, which was rare. On a whim, Zhan had once calculated his birthdate on Earth and discovered that he was a mere two Earth months younger than Pierce.

“You look a little lost in thought.”

Zhan blinked and looked over his shoulder where Nick and Sophia were standing. He smiled and gestured to two empty chairs across from him. “Maybe I was, but only a little. Care to sit down?” The chairs scraped on the floor as the two of them took their seats.

“So, congratulations on your award, Your Honor.” Sophia grinned and inclined his head towards him.

“And to the two of you as well, Your Honor.” Zhan responded to Sophia, and then turned to Nick. “Highly Learned Doctor.”

Nick snorted and shook his head in rueful amusement. “Can we make a pact that no one is allowed to use titles when we’re at home? I have a feeling it’s going to get old quick.”

“Pryvani never has, not really.” Zhan shrugged. “Neither has Rixie. So I suppose I’m willing to go along with that. How’s Taron taking it?”

“Oh he’s proud beyond belief.” Sophia shrugged. “You didn’t think he was the jealous type did you?”

Zhan laughed. “No I suppose not.”

“Besides,” Nick added. “He’s a three time Tribute champion. That’s enough honor and glory for him.”

Their conversation was interrupted when a shadow blocked out the light above. Almost in unison they looked up to see Tig and Rhionne standing over them.

“Good evening, Princess.” Zhan greeted. “Hello Centurium.”

“Hello Sebastokrator Tarsuss.” Rhionne smiled serenely. “I just came over to announce that the ceremony is due to commence shortly.”

Zhan nodded in understanding. It was only when Rhionne turned to walk away that he realized what she had called him.

“News travels fast.” He muttered. “Especially since I haven’t accepted anything yet.”

“All right, let’s get going then.” Ryan said.

“Are you all going to need a lift?” Tig asked.

“Nope.” Ryan grinned. “We have it covered.”

*.*.*

The city of New Trantor was a bustling metropolis that had a rich history stretching back hundreds of years, to almost the dawn of the Archavian Empire itself. There wasn’t much the cosmopolitan citizens of the city hadn’t seen at one time or another.

Which made the wide-eyed stares that Ryan Carey got as he piloted his new hover platform through the streets all the better.

“Excuse me!” He called out behind him as he zipped past someone stepping off a metro shuttle. “Sorry!”

“Ryan, this thing is not an Acolyte!” Amelia Xanthopolous chided as she gripped the edge of her seat tightly. “You can’t fly it like one!”

“Wanna bet?” Ryan grinned at her over his shoulder. She, like the rest of his passengers, was looking just a tad bit green around the gills. Except for Manto. But then, Manto was a pilot same as Ryan was.

“You’re making it really hard for the rest to keep up.” Thomas Archer-Kramer observed, looking behind them to the group of Titans who were also making their way through the crowd, including one annoyed looking fiancé.

“All right, all right.” Ryan shrugged as he pulled back on the throttle. “I’ll let them catch up.” The collective sigh of relief behind him almost slowing down worth it.

Within a few moments, they were surrounded by the massive bodies of the Titan residents of Avalon, as well as a few more of the hover platforms.

“Nice flyin’ kid!” Darren called over from his own platform where he was ferrying the rest of his family. “Wanna race?”

“No!” Amelia snapped indignantly. “Don’t encourage him, Dad.”

“I agree.” Thyllia sighed as she stepped in front of Ryan’s vehicle. Ryan sheepishly rose vertically until he was able to look his girlfriend in the eye.

“Oh lighten up, dear.” Pryvani giggled. “Ryan is a decorated war hero. He can take care of himself.”

Thyllia glared at her sister before sighing in resignation. “I know. Still, decorated war hero or not, he would do well to remember he has passengers!”

Ryan winked at her and mouthed the words ‘I understand,’ to her, before moving his platform forward at a more sedate pace. He looked over at his dad, who was sitting in his customary place on Rixie’s shoulder. Ryan caught Alex’s eye and they both shared a look; the look that only a human romantically involved with a Titan would understand.

The group continued to push through the crowded street, although the presence of the hover platforms was useful for carving a path. Most people had never seen one before, so weren’t quite sure what to make of them or the humans who piloted them.

Soon, they saw their destination ahead of them, rising above the rooftops of the buildings around it. The Imperial Auditorium; New Trantor’s biggest and most modern theater. It was also Thyllia’s pride and joy. She’d funded the theater’s construction nearly seven years earlier, and it had only grown since then.

And tonight it was playing host to a special event. After the passage of the Zeramblin Act, the Royal family decreed that there were many humans, now citizens, who deserved proper recognition for their achievements. After the Battle of Tau Ceti, it became even more important.

Ryan looked around as he carefully maneuvered the hover platform through the door and through the various security checkpoints. Many high profile people would be in attendance tonight, including senators, high ranking military officials and most of the Royal Family. For the next few hours, the theater would be a very tempting target.

Soon enough they made through security and were being shown to their seats. Within moments the award ceremony was starting. The Empress greeted everyone with a short invocation and welcomed them to the night’s proceedings.

The first awards handed out for the night were those of the Imperial Masters. Imperial Masters of the Arts awards were given for exceptional work in music, acting and artistic endeavors. Those who won were presented with the award were also given the title of Honored Artist. Many humans were recognized, but none more significant than Charlotte Cassano and Sam Rodriguez for their acting, and Nonah Armac for her literature.

The ceremony moved on to the Masters of Sciences. Like the Arts awards, these were presented to those who had made contributions in one of ten scientific fields, either individually or jointly. They were entitled to be referred to as Highly Learned. Dr. Brinn Pria and her team were awarded for their efforts to bring the medical field up to speed in caring for human patients. Shaar and Myona Barreda were awarded for the invention of the mobile hologram projector, and Niall Freeman was given a posthumous award for his discovery of the equation on which the ΦKΦ Drive was based.

As the Masters awards finished, Emperor Colvanos made his way to the podium. He would be presenting the bulk of the remaining awards.

“The Order of the Emperor is reserved for those citizens of our nation who have shown remarkable service, excellence or bravery. Those who are inducted into the Order will stand among some of the greatest heroes our Empire has ever known. Many of those we honor have waited years beyond what justice would dictate for the honor we bestow on them tonight. It is my honor and privilege to correct that mistake tonight.”

The list of names he read was long. Much longer than in past years, but then the last year had been very remarkable. Many of the names were from Avalon: Alexander Carey, Sophia Kramer, Nicholas Archer, Ammer Smit, Alesia Nonahsdottir, Dia Velos, Moze Kaewon, Zhan Tarsuss and Darren and Lysis Xanthopolous. Most of the others inducted were from Archavia, such as Aezhay and Thurfrit Maris.

The audience waited as an aide brought the next list forward. These were the inductees into the Imperial Clade, reserved for members of the government and military who had produced exceptional service. All who received this honor would also be placed into the Order of the Emperor, if they were not already.

This list wasn’t quite as long as the first, but there were still many names that perhaps had waited too long. Gae Neutha, Pryvani Tarsuss, Lonna Armac, Palsa Temis. Others whose induction had been for displaying exceptional bravery in the wake of tragedy. Joseph Archer-Mavoy, Captain Ryan Carey, Sorcha Freeman, Tigoni Belfsec, Klwrrkgh, Yrusa Tam.

Tiernan finished reading the last of the inductees names and a hush fell over the theater. Most of the people knew what was to come next. The Martyrs to Archavia. Those who had given their lives in the defense of the Empire and its citizens. And this year’s list would be far, far too long. Thousands of soldiers had fallen in the Battle of Tau Ceti. Some of the civilian leaders of the colony, like Manka Shirrel and Joram Tanay had also lost their lives.

Others had given even more than just their lives. Those who had died in acts of extreme bravery would also be inducted into the Order of the Emperor.

And, for a mere handful of people whose deaths had ensured that countless others might live, or who would inspire countless generations of citizens; they would find themselves also in the Imperial Clade.

Tiernan paused briefly after reading each of these names.

Hero-Of-The-Battle-Of-Tau-Ceti

Navarchos Aertimus Bass

Dr. Niall Freeman

Dr. Yamanu Neutha

Centurium Prince Antero ColVanos.

For a long time after the final name was read, Tiernan did not speak. Neither did anyone else. A heavy silence hung in the air of the theater, like a physical oppressive weight. Those present had known that many people had lost their lives in defense of the colony, but few had ever grasped how long the list was until all the names had been read out.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Tiernan took a deep breath and set aside the data pad he’d been reading from.

“And now, my friends, there is one final function that needs to be performed. Lady Thyllia Fand, of the House of Fand, has asked to relinquish the rights and responsibilities of a Guardian of the Empire. Usually when a House is stripped of their title is because of some wrong doing. However, in this case, Lady Fand has requested this, and requested that it occur in full view of the rest of the Empire.

Tiernan looked out into the audience in front of him.

“Lady Thyllia Fand, please come forward.”

Thyllia Fand stood and walked to stand in front of the Emperor. She felt butterflies in her stomach and the teal sash of the Fand Primacy seemed to weigh down on her neck like it had spontaneously transformed into lead. The whole time she could hear her mother’s voice telling her how she had betrayed her lineage. But then, at the same time, she knew that (as always) her mother was wrong.

Thyllia met the Emperor’s gaze steadily. Having Ryan nearby helped to calm her nerves somewhat. She was proud of him, in his new uniform of the Imperial Navy. The silver starburst rank insignia pins on his collar were hard for her to make out, but she knew they were there all the same.

“Lady Thyllia Fand.” The Emperor’s voice commanded her attention again. “You stand before us as the Primate of the house of Fand and as a Guardian of the Empire. You wish to relinquish those honors, and the rights that come with them; as penance for the crimes of your mother, the former Lady Syon Fand?”

Thyllia swallowed, but nodded resolutely. “I do your majesty. I have offered my name to your crown in the past as punishment for what Syon Fand has done. Your majesty, in his wisdom, has refused. Given the new evidence of the depth of Syon Fand’s depravity and treason against our Empire, I ask his majesty once again to take from our family, to remove the Fand name once and for all.”

Tiernan was silent for a long moment. “Then let it be so.” His voice rumbled in the hall and he turned towards Zhalem Ro, who was acting in the role of the keeper of records. “Let the Fand name be expunged from the roll of the seventy-nine families. But, let that same record also acknowledge that Thyllia Fand, the former Lady of that house, stands before us without guilt and with her honor fully intact.”

“It is so noted.” Zhalem Ro murmured softly.

Wordlessly, Thyllia removed the sash from her shoulders and draped it carefully over Emperor Tiernan’s outstretched hands.

“We shall hold the Primacy of this now nameless house, until such time as a worthy family can be found to take up the mantle.”

“So noted.” Zhalem repeated.

Tiernan was silent for a long time, while Thyllia waited nervously, and with some confusion, to be dismissed.

“Captain Ryan Carey!”

Ryan looked up and reflexively snapped to attention. “Sir!”

Tiernan’s mouth upturned, just for a moment, before his stone-faced mask settled back into place. Thyllia, however, wasn’t as lucky. Her mouth fell open in a very piscean manner.

“Come forward.”

Ryan reacted immediately and with military efficiency. He activated his hover platform and floated to the front of the theater, until he hovered in front of the Emperor and next to his fiancée.

“Captain Ryan Carey; you comported yourself beyond the call of duty at the Battle of Tau Ceti. You sustained injuries in the defense of our Empire, despite the injustices visited upon you by that same Empire. We, all, owe our lives to your actions and those of your command. You, and the members of your family, have all acted time and time again to serve the needs of our empire and to defend it from those who would threaten us and our way of life.”

“Yes sir, your majesty.” Ryan answered in lieu of anything more pertinent to say.

Tiernan’s mouth twitched again. “We, as ruling body of the Archavian Empire, have seen the character of your family line. We ask then that you take up the mantle of an Imperial Guardian and may this honor and obligation pass down to those descendants you deem worthy.”

Thyllia’s mouth finally closed, but her eyes widened. She turned to look where Rixie and Alex were standing with Pryvani and Zhan. Alex and Zhan both had big grins on their faces, Pryvani was teary eyed but smiling; Rixie’s face was expressionless except for the little bit of shine in her eyes. None of them had expected this either.

“Do you consent to the burden we are about to place upon you?” The Emperor asked Ryan, which drew Thyllia’s attention back to the moment at hand.

Ryan glanced up at Thyllia, but she wasn’t much help. He kept his outward exterior calm, but inside his heart hammered.

“I… I do your majesty.”

Tiernan smiled. “Then kneel, Captain Carey.”

Ryan carefully knelt on the platform, mindful of his injured leg. Normally, this ceremony required the Emperor (or Empress) to place their hand on the recipient’s back. However, Ryan’s entire body disappeared beneath Tiernan’s massive palm.

“Let the name Carey be added to the rolls of the seventy-nine guardian families. May he and his progeny be ever faithful in their defense of our people, whether they are Titan or not.” Tiernan carefully took his hand away and stepped back.

“Now rise, Captain Carey; Lord Ryan of the House of Carey. Guardian of the Empire.”

As Ryan rose, the theater erupted into applause. Ryan looked around, somewhat lost in a haze of bemusement. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt an intense wave of pride wash over him. He looked around at the friends and family who had gathered to both mourn and celebrate, and he was struck by a sudden realization.

“Your Majesty…” He said, turning to address the Emperor again. “If I might ask a favor of you.”

It was likely no one else in the theater heard him, save Thyllia, but they heard Tiernan responding to the question.

“Lord Carey, what is your wish?” Tiernan responded. His expression was curious.

Ryan looked around the theater again. His eyes picked out familiar faces everywhere he looked. His parents; friends like Manto, Odin, Joseph. Colleagues like Ted Martinez… Looking around the room he’d come to one realization.

“Your Majesty…” Ryan turned to face the Emperor again. “This has been an amazing day. To be honest, my mind is still trying to process everything that’s happened. Thyllia Fand has… has consented to be my wife… and quite frankly I can think of no better time for us to be wed then right now.”

He glanced up at Thyllia; her eyes had gone misty, but there was a smile on her face.

“With that in mind,” Ryan continued. “Would your majesty do us the honor of performing a wedding for us… right now?”

There was a gasp in the theater behind him, and Ryan watched as the Emperor’s eyes widened in shock. For a moment he feared that maybe he had overstepped his bounds, but then Tiernan smiled and signaled to one of the aides off stage to bring him his data pad.

Tiernan was silent as he tapped on the screen. Then, he smiled and looked up at the young couple in front of him.

“Dearly beloved;” The Emperor began. “We are gathered here today…”

*.*.*.*

The reception hall after the ceremony was packed. People milled about and compared the various medallions and honors many of them wore. Wait staff glided through the crowd offering refreshment, and the occasional metal platform cruised through the room bearing humans from one place to the next.

“So did you know he was going to do that?”

Alex turned towards his son at the question. The two of them were seated at a long human sized table set at the end of a Titan sized one. “You mean did I know he was going to make you an Imperial Guardian?”

“Yeah.”

Alex shook his head. “I did not. I knew Pryvani had been planning on bringing the two of you, officially, into her family, since she thought you wouldn’t have a ‘house’ of your own… But I suppose she won’t need to now.”

“Ah. Well, I hope you know that I plan on making our official house colors green and gold.” Ryan added with a laugh.

“Good man.” Alex said.

“It wouldn’t have been my first choice.” Thyllia sighed exasperatedly from her seat behind Ryan. “But apparently there’s some meaning to those colors, and Ryan does have the Primacy, after all.”

Alex looked up at his newly minted Daughter-In-Law and winked. “We’ll explain later.”

At just that moment, a dark haired Titan woman wearing a purple and blue Primacy sash of her own stepped over to their table. Pryvani followed closely behind her. She, however, was not wearing a sash.

“Boyara Zakrov, Pryvani good to see you!” Ryan said congenially. “Please, have a seat.”

“We just came over to congratulate you both, Lord and Lady Carey.” Pryvani said, her eyes twinkling.

“And also welcome our fellow Senator to the ranks.” Daz added.

Alex turned to his son, surprised. “They’re making you a senator?” He asked, and then turned towards Thyllia. “You’re not a senator, though.”

Thyllia smiled. “Technically, as House Carey is not a continuation of the Fand family, that doesn’t really matter. It’s a new Primacy, so there’s going to be a senate seat attached to it.”

“But, actually…” Daz said with a grin. “I wasn’t talking to Ryan, Alex. I was talking to you.”

Alex’s mouth fell open and he became uncharacteristically speechless. “…me?”

“News travels fast, apparently.” Ryan’s face split into a wide grin. “But yes dad, I’ve decided to give the seat in the Senate to you.”

“Over my dead body!” Alex said flatly after he found his voice. “Not a chance, no way. Not doing politics.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Dad, whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve been ‘doing politics’ for years already. You’re a founding father of Avalon.”

“Not by choice!”

“Plus… you’d be good at it.” Thyllia smiled warmly.

“Yeah… but…” Alex muttered.

“You’d be the first human to hold a seat in the Senate!” Pryvani added enthusiastically.

“But I don’t…”

“It won’t be so bad.” Daz said, sympathetically. “People don’t really expect much of Senators. It’ll be easy. You can sit next to me and we’ll make fun of the old windbags.”

“Pretty sure I am an old windbag.” Alex muttered weakly. He looked up at his son. “You would pull a stunt like this on me.”

Ryan grinned. “My dad once tricked my mom into walking into her own wedding ceremony as a giant. I learned from the best.”

“And here you were supposed to take after your mother.” Alex grumbled.

Ryan laughed. “Who says I didn’t?”

*.*.*

Naskia studied the wood grain of the small box in front of her. Inside, were three medals. On the top of the box was a small bronze plaque:

Niall Jacob Freeman

Λιαyy Γαкоѣ Φpεεzαn

Imperial Clade

Tyαδ Mαшмoκpαмopo

Martyr to Archavia

Xzαpмıэ δα Apкαшjα

Order of the Emperor

Δoмnop мvf Aшмoκpαм

Inside the box were three medals with her husband’s name on them. Collectively, they represented the highest honors the Empire could give to a citizen.

Citizen. Naskia’s heart wrenched painfully. Ever since she’d met him, Niall had had one goal: to prove that he was the equal or better of every Titan he ever met. In one instant, he’d done just that a hundred, thousand times over.

Naskia wanted to throw the box across the room.

She wanted to, but she didn’t. There had been enough time for her to begin to sort through her feelings, and she was to the point where she often still struggled with her feelings of loss, but she could at least appear to be okay on the outside.

She could recognize that the way she felt this day would hopefully not be the way she felt for the rest of her life. So, she would keep the box and the medals. She might keep them out of sight for a while, perhaps a long while, but one day… one day she would want to see them again.

Naskia glanced across the room to where Sorcha and Joseph were sitting at another table. As she watched his hand snuck closer to hers, until their fingers intertwined. Naskia wondered if they were even aware of it.

Perhaps, one day, she’d show those medals to a grandchild.

“I have to admit, I never would have guessed in a million years.”

Naskia looked up at the voice and found Zara Mavoy standing next to her table. The other woman’s gaze was also across the room where their children sat, but only for a moment. Then she looked down at Naskia and smiled gently.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Not at all.” Naskia said. “Would you like to sit down?” A part of her hoped Zara would politely excuse herself.

But, instead, Zara nodded and pulled out the chair across from Naskia. A silence stretched between them that was only a little awkward before Zara finally cleared her throat.

“Naskia… I’m sure you’re sick to death of hearing it but…”

Naskia nodded. “I know. Zara I appreciate the sentiment, but please… don’t.”

Zara nodded. “I understand. I can’t imagine what… I try to picture Tylum and Sophia or Nick doing what they did and…”

Zara shook her head. “Oh I’m making a mess of this. Look, Naskia… Maybe this won’t help at all, but I have to say it. I….I have to express my gratitude for what they did. If they hadn’t…?” Zara glanced again at the table where their children sat. “Then I would have lost my son.”

Naskia blinked, and for just a moment she felt a bit of warmth building in her chest. “So what was so surprising about it?”

Zara’s brow knit in confusion. “About what?”

Naskia nodded in the direction of their children. “Them.”

“Ah.” Zara chuckled. “They’re just so… different. Sorcha’s always been so dynamic and energetic. Always wanting to take on the whole galaxy. And then Joseph… Well, he’s not lazy or anything, but he just sort of… rides the current. But, you know, I honestly think he’s a better person because of her. He’s learned that some things are worth taking seriously.”

“They do tend to balance each other out, I think.” Naskia agreed.

Another silence stretched between the two women, but this one was not awkward.

“When do you think she’ll ask the question?” Zara wondered idly.

“You think it’ll be her?”

“Yeah.” Zara laughed. “She might get him to ask; but let’s be honest, it’ll be her idea.”

Naskia’s lip quirked in what was almost a smile. “I suppose you’re right.”

*.*.*

At another table, Rixie sat with Asteria on her lap, catching up with Lemm and Zhalem. Their conversation drifted between strategies for the upcoming war with the Insectoids, to whether Zhalem was still involved with Reevah.

“Imperator Tam, may I have a moment of your time?” Rixie looked up from her conversation to find the Empress standing over her. Behind Rajenlif, standing a discreet distance away, were a couple of bodyguards in crisp duty uniforms.

Almost reflexively, Zhalem and Lemm shot to their feet, only to be waved back into their seats by a clearly amused Empress.

“Of course, your majesty.” Rixie demurred, rising to her feet. To be fair, the only reason she hadn’t also snapped to attention is because it would have caused her to dump her daughter onto the floor rather abruptly.

“do you two mind watching her for a few minutes?” Rixie asked, scooping her daughter up and plopping her into Lemm’s lap.

“Not at all, Rixie.” Zhalem smiled, although Lemm looked rather… nonplussed.

“Good.” Rixie said as she turned away from the table. She followed the Empress, who in turn traveled through the crowd in the wake of her bodyguards, through the reception hall and out into the lobby outside. Rajenlif turned towards Rixie and favored the younger woman with a smile.

“Rixie, there is one more reward that needs to be awarded tonight, but tradition dictates it is to be given in private.”

The Empress pressed a button on her pad and a holographic image appeared in the air between them. Rixie’s eyes widened as she beheld a gleaming silver sword nearly a unit in length from tip to pommel, and wider than Rixie’s own hand at the cross guard.

“The Sword of Savarna.” Rajenlif said softly. “The highest honor the Jotunn can give. Normally, I’d be presenting you with the sword itself, but I imagine that would present you with some difficulties should you try to enter a spaceport.” The Empress’s eyes shone with amusement. “Therefore, I’ve made arrangements to have it shipped to your home on Avalon.”

“Your Majesty.” Rixie breathed. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You needn’t say anything, Rixie.” The Empress replied, as she turned to accept a small wooden box from one of her guards. “Truthfully, your induction into the Order of the Renowned should have happened years ago, but we Jotunn carry our own prejudices.”

Rixie nodded. There were places in the Empire, like Jutuneim, that were still leery of the Hoplite order. This was due in part to the fact that when the order was first established, many of their “foundlings” were actually war orphans from the conquests of the allies of Chirae Ankelos.

This, of course, was no longer the case; but such things leave long lasting scars on a people.

“Nevertheless,” Rajenlif continued. “I have finally been successful in my campaign for your inclusion. If you accept, you will bear the title of Renowned.” Rajenlif opened the box she held and revealed a silver medallion hung on a red and blue ribbon.

Rixie swallowed as her throat tightened with emotion. Carefully, she bowed at the waist and allowed the Empress to slip the ribbon over her head. As Rixie rose back into a standing position, she felt the weight of the medallion settle against her sternum. The physical weight was nothing compared to the emotional weight of finding herself among the ranks of some of the greatest Jotunn who had ever lived.

Including the Empress herself.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Rixie said softly. “I will… I will try to be worthy of this honor.”

“I know you will.” Rajenlif replied. “Now, I’m sure your family is wondering where you are. I know mine will be. We must go and deliver the good news. The Sword is awarded privately, but it is celebrated publically.”

*.*.*

“Ugh what a long day.”

Ryan looked up at his wife from where he sat on the pillow of her bed. Their bed. He shook his head; he still wasn’t quite used to the idea that they were married. He’d fantasized about making Thyllia his wife for years and now… They were in her-their- New Trantor apartment getting ready for bed and their first night as husband and wife.

Thyllia yawned and climbed into the bed next to him. Even though her movements were careful, Ryan still felt the bed shake underneath him as she scooted under the covers.

She turned her head towards him, and Ryan once again found himself lost in her brown eyes. “So how does it feel to be Lord Ryan?” She asked impishly.

“I… you know, it really doesn’t feel any different.” Ryan admitted. “Maybe it will, eventually, when this all sinks in, but frankly the idea that I’m your husband is taking up most of the train of thought right now.”

“In a good way, I hope?” Thyllia purred.

“Of course.” Ryan replied. “How does it feel to be Lady Thyllia Carey?”

Thyllia didn’t answer for several seconds, and Ryan began to worry that he’d made a misstep.

“Part of me feels like I can finally breathe.” Thyllia admitted finally. “Like I’m not forced to carry around what she did anymore.”

“Why didn’t you just take Pryvani’s name?” Ryan asked curiously. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have had a problem with it.”

“She offered.” Thyllia admitted. “Many times, but it just felt… I don’t know… wrong. Like I’d be stealing an identity that didn’t belong to me. Like I’d be an imposter.”

She rolled over and raised herself up on her arms so that Ryan had to look up to see her. “But now I have a name I think I can be proud of, one I’d be happy to give to my children.”

Thyllia sat back on her on her haunches, her body towering over Ryan. Even in the dim light he could see the mischievous smile that lit up her face.

“Now then, call it a hunch but something tells me you’ve been thinking about what this night would be like for a long time.” Thyllia grinned. “I know, because I have too. So, what’s say you and I see if we can’t top those fantasies?”

Ryan grinned. “It would be my pleasure.”