Back aboard the sprawling command chamber of the Queen’s Rage, I found myself immersed in a sea of applications from Earth’s most brilliant scientists. The air thrummed with the weight of decision-making, each dossier representing a potential torchbearer for our adventure into the uncharted realms beyond their homeworld. This was not just a selection process; it was a defining moment that would shape the future of human exploration.

The sheer volume of applications overwhelmed me, each one a testament to ambition and innovation. Engineers from every leading space agency clamored for a chance to contribute, each eager to transcend the limitations imposed by national boundaries and technological constraints. My mind was already made up in that regard: each agency would be granted the opportunity to bring one lead engineer and an assistant—a delicate balance of expertise and perspective.

Then there were the military contractors, a different breed entirely. Each prominent defense company sought a foothold aboard my ship, hoping to curry favor with weaponry and advanced tactical designs. Yet, I was resolute; Queen’s Rage would not become a launching pad for war machines. My mission was exploration, not conquest. Thus, only aeronautics specialists made the cut—those who could offer fresh insights into the complexities of ship maneuverability and the intricacies of planetary landings.

Among the selected were a dozen brilliant physicists, most hailing from CERN, their excitement palpable as they anticipated an opportunity to unravel the secrets of our unconventional power generation methods. Their intellectual curiosity captivated me—it was clear they yearned to demystify how our reactors seemingly defied the established laws of physics, an endeavor that had eluded humanity for so long.

Next came the biologists, their applications a rich tapestry of research aims and aspirations. Some focused on the challenges and nuances of zero-gravity adaptation, while others explored the potential of extraterrestrial environments and hybrid ecosystems. The possibilities for groundbreaking cross-species studies were immense, and I was determined to assemble a team of the brightest minds in the field.

After painstakingly sifting through countless dossiers, I finally compiled my first batch of selected candidates. Yet, I still had thirty more coveted spots to fill, and the weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon me.

As I tapped my fingers rhythmically against the polished surface of my desk, a myriad of possibilities flashed through my mind. The idea of inviting reporters aboard flitted through my thoughts—a calculated risk, but one I deemed worth taking. Allowing twenty of the remaining slots to be filled by news agencies and media crews could provide a critical glimpse into life beyond Earth. It would not only quench swirling conspiracy theories and alleviate geopolitical tensions but also offer humanity a firsthand look at its place in the cosmos.

But I was no fool. I knew the game well enough; spy agencies would undoubtedly attempt to infiltrate us. That much was an unspoken certainty.

Rather than fighting against this inevitable reality, I found myself intrigued by the prospect of letting them try. If they believed they could extract classified information, they would soon find themselves misled. In fact, I contemplated the potential benefits—this could serve as an invaluable opportunity to test our security protocols, uncover vulnerabilities, and fine-tune our counter-intelligence strategies.

A smirk unfurled across my lips as I drafted a directive for my tech teams: prepare a series of dummy files. Let them attempt to seize what was meant to be hidden.

This would be more than mere subterfuge; it was a game of intelligence and misdirection, and I was resolute in my intent to emerge victorious.

As the final selection process approached its conclusion, I meticulously allocated the remaining spots to our esteemed test pilots. If humanity was to acclimate to the groundbreaking technology we were introducing, it was imperative that we had exceptionally skilled pilots at the helm of our ships. This endeavor transcended mere training; it was about equipping humanity for a monumental leap in their evolution amongst the stars.

Content with my choices, I gathered the finalized list of approved personnel for our year-long expedition. Scientists with brilliant minds, engineers brimming with innovation, biologists eager to explore new ecosystems, journalists hungry for untold stories, and those brave test pilots—all handpicked to venture beyond the bounds of our planet. This mission represented a pivotal moment for Earth, a bold stride into an extraordinary future.

Just as I prepared to send the list for official clearance, a sharp beep from my console shattered the moment, drawing my attention to an urgent priority transmission. A glowing alert banner illuminated the screen.

“Your Majesty, we have an urgent report from our fleet stationed in the Scaries Quadrant. They have uncovered evidence of advanced life forms.”

I straightened my posture, my heart quickening as my gaze sharpened into a focused intensity.

“Details?” I inquired, deliberately maintaining a tone of calm authority.

“They are in the process of gathering intelligence. Initial reports suggest the presence of a developed civilization—though their technological level is still under assessment. Do you wish to authorize first contact?”

My mind raced through the implications of such a revelation.

No. Not yet.

First contact was a delicate affair, one that required careful deliberation. We needed to understand everything—cultural dynamics, technological sophistication, and, above all, the nature of their intentions. To rush headlong into an encounter without adequate preparation could easily spell disaster.

“No,” I stated resolutely. “Instruct them to continue gathering as much intelligence as they can while remaining undetected. They are not to reveal their presence unless it becomes absolutely necessary.” I paused, infusing my voice with a steely resolve. “And make it unequivocally clear—they are not to engage in hostilities unless there are no alternatives.”

The response came swiftly, a practiced calm in my dispatcher’s voice. “Understood, Your Majesty. Orders have been relayed. We will persist in monitoring the situation and will provide updates with any developments.”

I exhaled a slow, deliberate breath, leaning back in my chair as the weight of what lay ahead settled upon me.

This altered everything.

The Scaries Quadrant had been deemed a vast expanse of uncharted territory—a celestial void waiting to reveal its mysteries. The existence of advanced life within its confines meant that our expansion would not occur without opposition.

The more pressing question loomed—would these entities be allies or adversaries?

At this moment, I had my answer.

We would observe. We would learn.

And when the time came… we would be poised and ready for whatever the cosmos had in store.

I meticulously finalized the list of approved personnel, the weight of my responsibility heavy upon my shoulders, before transmitting it to the United Nations. I made it crystal clear that I would personally verify the final roster; any discrepancies between my carefully curated list and theirs would not be tolerated.

You’d think that such a definitive stance would effectively deter any attempts at tampering.

You’d think.

But no. In true form, the UN launched an audacious attempt to modify my selections, casually swapping in individuals they deemed “more suitable.” They likely assumed I wouldn’t notice their subterfuge.

But I did.

And my response was unequivocally simple: No. Their bureaucratic games had no place in this mission—this endeavor was too critical to allow political maneuvering to compromise its integrity. I refused to permit them to slip in favored candidates or deny positions to the individuals I had painstakingly vetted. This journey was about advancing humanity, not a strategic game of diplomatic chess.

Once our standoff was settled, the real work commenced.

A grueling two weeks ensued, spent processing the influx of visitors, ensuring they were efficiently situated within the expansive vessel. The crew worked tirelessly, coordinating every detail—assigning rooms with precision, conducting rigorous safety briefings, and distributing masks designed to accommodate the atmospheric differences aboard the Queen’s Rage. The ship, a magnificent titan of engineering, loomed vast and daunting, yet accommodating such a significant number of people demanded a level of logistical exactness that kept us all on our toes.

Still, amid the chaos and challenges, one undeniable certainty filled my mind: once we set sail, Earth’s perception of the universe would be irrevocably transformed.

I made one last adjustment to the roster—Stacy and Gwen were coming with us.

I hadn’t originally planned on it, but after seeing Stacy’s excitement and Gwen’s genuine curiosity about the universe beyond Earth, I decided they deserved a spot. Stacy was my sister, after all, and if there was anyone I wanted to experience this journey with, it was her.

My parents, however, declined.

“We’ve seen enough, Kara,” Dad said, his voice warm but firm. “This has been incredible, but space… it’s your world now, not ours.”

Mom nodded in agreement, smiling softly. “We’re so proud of you, but we’re happy here, on Earth. You go on and do what you were meant to do.”

I understood. As much as I would have loved to show them more, they had already experienced more than they ever thought possible. This journey wasn’t for them—it was for the future.

With the final decisions made and all preparations complete, it was finally time to leave Earth behind.

This was only the beginning.

I had Stacy and Gwen situated in my suit. It was big enough for us to have separate bedrooms, but I did have to give up half my closet space. Stacy laughed at the number of dresses I had. "I don't think that I ever saw you not in your suit. I'm surprised at the number of dresses you have, " she said to me. I looked at her and said, "Can't I be girly too? I am the Empress, after all. I'll have you know the only reason I was always in my armor down there was the high possibility some wacko would take a pop shot at me. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to change out of this armor." I flipped my hair in a dramatic way as I grabbed a dress to go change. Both Stacy and Gwen were laughing at my antics. This was going to be fun.

I had Stacy and Gwen settled comfortably in my luxurious personal suite, which boasted a generous layout that allowed for separate bedrooms. However, I made one significant compromise—I relinquished half of my closet space to accommodate their presence.

Stacy, ever the jokester, found endless amusement in my predicament. As she rifled through the open closet, her eyes widened in astonishment at the sheer array of dresses lined up like a colorful parade. She turned to me, her expression a delightful blend of incredulity and playful teasing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but your suit,” she quipped, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “And this—this is a veritable treasure trove! Where have you been hiding all these?”

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on my lips. “What? Can’t an Empress embrace her girly side too?” I shot back with a playful tilt of my head.

Stacy snorted, laughter bubbling up like a spring. “I just assumed you lived in that armor 24/7. It’s practically a second skin for you!”

Rolling my eyes, I tossed my hair dramatically. “I’ll have you know, the only reason I was always decked out in armor was because of the constant threat of some eccentric fool taking potshots at me.” With a flourish, I selected a shimmering dress from the closet, its fabric catching the light like a cascade of stars. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to change into something a little less battle-ready.”

As I sauntered toward the changing room, Gwen and Stacy erupted into laughter, the sound a blend of joy and friendship that filled the room. I turned back for a moment, throwing an exaggerated regal wave over my shoulder, reveling in the lightheartedness of the moment.

Yes—this was going to be fun.

Once I had changed into something more comfortable—a flowing, soft dress that felt like a second skin—I stepped out, enveloped in the gentle embrace of the evening’s warmth. My heart quickened with the promise of a casual evening ahead.

But then, I saw her.

Minsha stood before me, a stunning figure swathed in her traditional attire. The moment I laid eyes on her, the air around us seemed to thrum with a potent energy, electrifying my senses. My breath caught in my throat, excitement cascading through me like a warm tide, heat curling deliciously in my core.

The long loincloth hugged her hips with a playful elegance, each fluttering flaps of deep emerald fabric cascading down to her ankles, swaying with every subtle movement. Her cropped halter top, crafted from the same rich green, clung to her form, showcasing the sinewy lines of her physique, each muscle defined with an artistry that was almost mesmerizing. The way the intricate fabric lifted her chest just so—it was a sight that felt almost too beautiful to bear.

She was a vision, effortlessly weaving her charm around me, capturing my undivided attention.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I closed the distance between us, my arms encircling her strong neck, fingers gliding over the silky warmth of her skin as I drew her down into a deep, lingering kiss. The sensation of her warmth and the intoxicating taste of her lips sent a delicious shiver racing through my body, igniting every nerve.

When our lips finally parted, a lingering sweetness still danced between us, and I met her golden gaze—filled with a primal understanding… and a fervent hunger that made my heart race.

“After dinner,” I murmured, my fingers threading through her cascading hair, each strand silky against my touch, “let’s head to the med-bay… so we can embark on the next stage of our lives together.”

Minsha let out a soft, approving growl, her hands tightening possessively around my waist, anchoring me in that moment.

“Finally,” she whispered against my lips, her breath warm and intoxicating. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

Suddenly, dinner felt like an insurmountable obstacle, an interruption to the electric connection buzzing between us.

But we would navigate it, together.

And then… everything would change.

After freshening up, Minsha and I guided Stacy and Gwen through the labyrinthine corridors of Queen’s Rage. As they navigated the vast ship for the first time, it was far more practical for us to escort them rather than allow them to wander aimlessly in the impressive expanse.

“This place is colossal,” Stacy murmured, her wide eyes darting around as we walked. “I knew the ship was big from the outside, but inside? It’s like a sprawling metropolis.”

I smirked, reveling in the wonderment of my friends. “That’s because it truly is a city. It houses distinct districts, residential quarters, training facilities, research centers, and even a thriving biosphere.”

Gwen raised an inquisitive brow. “Wait… a biosphere?”

“You’ll see,” Minsha replied, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her lips.

After a short walk, we arrived at the restaurant. The sliding doors opened to unveil an expansive dining area that overlooked the atrium—the very heart of Queen’s Rage.

The restaurant exuded sleek elegance with its dark metallic accents and ethereal floating light fixtures casting a soft, ambient glow across the room. Yet, what truly captivated our guests was the breathtaking view.

The back wall was a monumental, floor-to-ceiling expanse of glass, revealing the ship’s vast interior biosphere—a meticulously crafted artificial ecosystem that not only provided the ship's atmosphere but also served as a haven for life.

Rich, verdant alien flora flourished on multiple levels, with cascading waterfalls spilling into crystal-clear pools, while bioengineered plants emitted a soft bioluminescent glow, creating a surreal ambiance that pulsed in rhythmic waves. A meticulously controlled weather system simulated gentle breezes, causing vibrant, oversized leaves to sway hypnotically beneath the soft rays of the artificial sunlight.

It was a sight that had left diplomats and planetary leaders utterly speechless.

For Stacy and Gwen, it was nothing short of otherworldly.

“Holy…” Stacy gasped, her jaw dropping slightly as she took in the marvel.

Gwen inhaled slowly, her eyes wide in astonishment. “Okay. Yeah. This is on another level.”

Minsha and I exchanged satisfied glances as we settled into our private table, ideally positioned to provide us with an uninterrupted view of the atrium. The restaurant hummed with a serene silence, broken only by the gentle whir of the advanced climate control system and the soft, melodic notes of Caravellan instruments playing soothingly in the background.

As we settled in, elegant Caravellan servers approached, placing exquisitely plated dishes before us.

Here, there was no trace of human fare—no Earthly ingredients to be found.

Each dish was a masterpiece of Caravellan cuisine, showcasing fragrant, slow-roasted meats drizzled with iridescent sauces, alongside delicately textured fruits that offered a surprising cooling aftertaste. Some creations glowed softly, bioluminescent like gems, while others shimmered with a smoky quality, as if the very essence of flavor radiated from the plate itself.

Stacy hesitated, her eyes darting between the vibrant colors and intricate textures on her plate, then back to me. “Okay… I don’t even know where to start.”

I grinned, eager to share this experience. “Start anywhere—it’s all incredible.”

Minsha, ever the traditionalist, selected a thin, elegantly curved utensil crafted specifically for Caravellan dining and began her meal with a grace that seemed to reflect her heritage. “The flavors may be unfamiliar to you at first,” she observed, glancing at Stacy and Gwen, “but I believe you will find great enjoyment in them.”

Gwen, typically the cautious adventurer, finally mustered the courage to take a small bite of a layered dish with a delicate crystalline texture. As the intricate flavors danced on her tongue, her eyes widened in pure, unfiltered surprise.

“Oh. Wow,” she breathed, her curiosity quickly blossoming into delight.

Stacy, emboldened by Gwen's reaction, took a tentative bite of the roasted meat on her plate. A second later, her expression transformed into one of shock and exhilaration.

“No way,” she mumbled, going in for another bite. “Okay, I don’t even know what this is, but this is insanely good.”

Minsha smirked knowingly. “It’s a delicacy from my homeworld—one of my personal favorites.”

I leaned back, savoring a sip of my drink, content to witness their first foray into an entirely new realm of flavors.

Beyond the window, the biosphere thrummed with life as the artificial sun began its graceful descent into a simulated dusk, bathing everything in dreamy shades of violet and blue.

This was merely the beginning of an extraordinary journey. There was still so much more for them to discover.

After dinner, I guided Stacy and Gwen toward the bustling shopping district—truly one of the most vibrant locales aboard the Queen's Rage. As soon as we crossed the threshold, the electrifying energy of the space enveloped us, a vibrant tapestry of color and sound.

The marketplace was alive with a symphony of voices—lively chatter melded with peals of laughter, all underscored by the rhythmic hum of floating vendor stalls. The expansive area was dotted with sleek, curved storefronts, each showcasing the finest in Caravellan fashion, exquisite artisanal jewelry, cutting-edge gadgets, and tantalizing exotic foods that tempted our senses. Holographic advertisements danced through the air, shimmering with mesmerizing visuals that highlighted the latest trends and innovations emerging from across the Empire.

What truly set this shopping district apart from any human center was the astonishing diversity of life that thrived within it. Families sauntered hand in hand, their vibrant dynamics evident in the way parents guided their children—many of whom were born and raised aboard the ship. Sprightly youngsters, boasting striking Caravellan features, splashed joyfully around fountains that pulsed with mesmerizing soft blue light. Others, hybrid children embodying a rich blend of heritages, darted ahead, their laughter ringing out as they pointed excitedly at the interactive displays that lit up with their every touch.

This was not just a marketplace; it was a vibrant, living community—an intricate web of families blossoming within the carefully curated confines of this city among the stars.

Stacy's voice broke my reverie, her eyes wide as she spun slowly to take it all in. “This place is insane,” she murmured in awe. “I knew people lived on the ship, but I didn’t anticipate it would feel so… real.”

Meanwhile, Gwen had already set her sights on a sleek, high-tech jacket that boasted glowing blue seams, her eyes sparkling with desire. “Okay… this I absolutely need.”

With a smirk, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a delicate bracelet, its polished black gemstone glinting in the light. I placed it in Stacy's palm, feeling a sense of warmth at the gesture.

“If you see something you like, just charge it to my account,” I offered. “Consider it a little gift.”

Stacy blinked in surprise. “Wait—you’re just giving us a shopping spree?”

I shrugged, my heart light. “What’s the point of being an Empress if I can’t indulge my sister once in a while?”

Minsha chuckled softly beside me, her presence a steady anchor. “Indeed. Take your time—Kara and I have an errand to run.”

Gwen shot us a curious glance, her brow slightly furrowed. “An errand?”

I merely smiled enigmatically. “We’ll catch up later.”

With that, I turned away, feeling the comforting solidity of Minsha at my side as we wandered off. The vibrant sounds of the marketplace began to fade behind us, replaced by the quieter, more intimate corridors leading to the medbay.

Tonight felt monumental; we were about to take the next threshold in our journey—starting our family. And in that moment, surrounded by the gentle hum of the ship and with Minsha beside me, I had never felt more prepared or filled with hope.

The medbay was a state-of-the-art sanctuary, its immaculate walls adorned with sleek, luminescent panels that pulsed gently, displaying streams of complex medical data in an exotic language that most humans would find utterly baffling. The air was imbued with the subtle, crisp scent of antiseptic, yet it lacked the harsh chill typical of human hospitals, instead offering a warm, almost welcoming atmosphere. This was a realm of precision and compassion, and today marked the dawn of a new chapter in our lives.

The procedure itself was straightforward, especially by Caravellan medical standards—an elegant blend of technology and biology. A med-tech specialist, clad in the deep azure uniform of the ship’s medical division, approached us with a warm, inviting smile. “Your Majesties,” they greeted, their voice smooth and respectful. “We have prepared everything for the genetic sampling process. If you're both ready, we can begin at your convenience.”

Minsha and I exchanged a meaningful glance, our fingers intertwining for just a moment—a fleeting connection filled with unspoken hopes and dreams—before we nodded in unison, resolved and eager.

The specialist guided us to separate sterile chambers, their movements precise and assured. Inside, they gently extracted our genetic samples with meticulous care. The procedure was swift and completely painless—a brief, glowing scan followed by the delicate collection of tissue, almost imperceptible, yet brimming with potential.

Once complete, our combined DNA was fed into an advanced biosynthesis machine, a magnificent device designed to craft viable embryos perfectly tailored to our unique biology. As I stood by, I watched in awe as the screen came to life, mapping intricate sequences and dynamically evolving patterns that displayed the precise combination of our genetic material in real-time. It felt surreal, almost otherworldly, to witness the nascent existence of our children unfolding on that luminous screen.

“The process is running smoothly,” the med-tech confirmed, their hands gliding effortlessly across the sleek interface, eyes flickering with concentration. “Once the embryos are ready, we will implant them. Would you like to review the genetic profiles before proceeding with the implantation?”

I turned to Minsha, who met my gaze with a knowing, reassuring smile. “No need,” she replied softly, her voice imbued with unwavering confidence. “They will be perfect.”

As I squeezed her hand, a swell of emotion surged within me—hope, excitement, and an overwhelming love were all coalescing into one powerful sensation.

She was right.

In just a short while, we would be mothers, embarking on an extraordinary journey together, the first step manifesting right before our eyes.

With the procedure complete, Minsha and I emerged from the sterile confines of the medbay, our fingers instinctively intertwining as we walked side by side. An unspoken bond had blossomed between us, a quiet yet profound understanding rooted in the shared anticipation of the family we were about to begin.

As we strolled back into the vibrant shopping district, the air hummed with energy, our bodies brushing against each other, the warmth between us evolving from simple affection to an exhilarating promise of the future. The marketplace buzzed with life, its bustling atmosphere embracing us as we entered the grand atrium. Vendors vociferously advertised their wares, colorful holographic signs floated above showcasing intricate carvings and cutting-edge gadgets, while families meandered through the wide, cobblestone streets, the delightful chatter of children harmonizing with the steady rhythm of commerce.

It didn't take long before our eyes landed on Stacy and Gwen, encircled by a curious cluster of Caravellans, their faces lit with intrigue. Minsha and I exchanged amused glances, a shared understanding glimmering in our eyes, before navigating through the throng to join them.

Gwen stood at the center of attention, a playful smile on her lips as she rolled up her sleeve, exposing intricate ink patterns that danced across her skin. The artisans surrounding her leaned in closer, their demeanor reflecting a blend of awe and bewilderment as they meticulously scrutinized the artistry etched into her flesh.

"This is... remarkable," one of them remarked, their silver-flecked eyes glinting with fascination as they examined the detailed artwork. "These markings are permanent?"

Gwen's smirk broadened as she confidently nodded. "Yep. They're called tattoos. They don’t fade over time; each is a story, made by inserting ink beneath the skin."

Another Caravellan artist leaned even closer, their head tilted slightly as though attempting to decode the meaning behind each swirling design. "Your species decorates itself in this fashion? But... why?"

Gwen chuckled lightly, brushing her fingers over her forearm as though recalling cherished memories. "They're more than mere decorations. Each signifies something special—some commemorate moments from my life, others represent the things I love, and a few are simply for the love of art."

The artisans murmured among themselves in their melodic Caravellan language, their voices laced with genuine admiration, their fascination tangible in the air.

At last, one turned back to her, his voice careful and respectful. "No Caravellan has ever done this before. You are the first we have encountered adorned in such markings."

Stacy, casually leaning against a nearby display case, interjected with a smirk, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You should see how she reacts when someone dares to call them just decorations."

Gwen shot her a playful glare, her lips curling in mock exasperation. "They are not merely decorations!"

Minsha chuckled softly beside me, her laughter light and airy. "It seems you've already made quite the impression, Gwen."

At the sound of our voices, Stacy turned sharply, her eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. "And just where have you two been hiding?"

I simply smiled, a knowing glint sparkling in my gaze. "Oh, nowhere important."

Minsha squeezed my hand gently, her expression mirroring my own amusement.

Stacy scrutinized us for a moment longer, her expression shifting to a dramatic sigh. "Oh no. You definitely did something."

Meanwhile, Gwen, still enraptured by the artisans sketching rough copies of her tattoo designs in their ledgers, glanced up in feigned confusion. "Wait, what's happening?"

I chuckled, effortlessly steering the conversation in a different direction. "Did you two find anything worth bragging about?"

Stacy sighed dramatically but chose to let it go—for now. "Yeah, Gwen discovered some killer clothes, and I may or may not have indulged in a few unnecessary purchases."

I smirked, crossing my arms in playful challenge. "That's what the bracelet was for. Enjoy yourself!"

Gwen, still basking in the attention, chuckled, her spirit infectious. "If this is what being royalty is like, I might just have to start calling you Your Majesty too."

I rolled my eyes in mock exasperation. "Let’s not get carried away, shall we?"

As the night deepened, we wandered further into the heartbeat of the bustling marketplace, exchanging stories, laughter, and fresh experiences that ignited our spirits. This was the dawn of something profound—not only for Minsha and me but also for Stacy, Gwen, and the Caravellans embarking on their first encounter with human culture.

And for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt a serene peace enveloping me, comforting and warm like a soft embrace amidst the myriad wonders unfolding around us.

After a long, eventful day filled with laughter and adventures, we all agreed it was time to retreat to my stateroom. The moment we crossed the threshold, a cocoon of comfort and tranquility enveloped us, providing a much-needed refuge from the whirlwind of the day’s activities.

Stretching her arms above her head, Stacy let out an appreciative whistle, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the expansive suite. “I still can’t get over the size of this place,” she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s bigger than some penthouses back on Earth.” The plush furnishings and elegant decor made it an inviting haven, and even the ambient glow from the softly hued lighting added to its allure.

In stark contrast, Gwen was drawn irresistibly toward the opulent bath. The large, luxurious soaking tub, elegantly integrated into the sleek marble-like flooring, exuded warmth as it filled with shimmering water that caught glints of silver and gold from the infused minerals. It was a sensory retreat waiting to be indulged.

“This is a damn spa,” Gwen marveled, her fingers grazing the cool, smooth edge of the deep bath. “I am never leaving this ship.” Her enthusiasm was contagious as she leaned closer, already envisioning a serene soak.

I chuckled, leaning against the plush seating area where Minsha sat. “Well, don’t spend too long in there,” I teased lightly, a playful grin forming as I glanced over at her. “I still want my turn with Minsha after you two are done.”

Stacy rolled her eyes, but a smirk danced on her lips. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll leave it all romantic for you two lovebirds,” she quipped before disappearing into the warmth of the bath with Gwen, leaving Minsha and me cocooned in the quiet comfort of our own little world.

I leaned back against Minsha’s chest, sighing contentedly as her arms instinctively wrapped around me, encompassing me in warmth and safety. The soft rise and fall of her breath was soothing against my skin, creating an intimate bubble just for us.

A thought flickered to life in my mind, prompting me to glance up at her. “Hey… do Tagnor babies have claws when they’re born?” I asked, curiosity mingled with a hint of concern.

Minsha tilted her head, her brows knitting together slightly as she processed my question. “No, babies don’t have claws when they’re born,” she replied, giving me a curious look that contrasted with the softness in her eyes. “Why would you think that?”

I hesitated for a moment, placing my hand gently on my stomach as a small smile played on my lips, one that hid the whirl of emotions beneath the surface. “Well,” I admitted, “I was just thinking about what it’s going to be like when the baby arrives. I guess I got a little worried about… you know… getting torn up when this one is ready to come out.”

At my words, Minsha’s expression shifted, her concern deepening into something tender. She gently placed her own hand over mine, her touch warm and soothing as she rubbed reassuring circles against my stomach. “My love,” she murmured softly, “Tagnor births are not like human births. Our biology is designed for this. It won’t be as painful as you fear.”

I exhaled deeply, relief flooding through me at her calming words, though the unknown still lingered in my mind like a shadow. “You’re sure?” I asked, searching her eyes for assurance.

Minsha’s lips curled into a gentle smile as she leaned down to place a soft, feather-light kiss on my temple. “I’m sure,” she whispered, her voice a balm to my worries.

Allowing myself to relax fully into her embrace, I was enveloped by her presence and reassured by her words. Whatever lay ahead, I knew we would face it together, united in love and strength.

Once everyone had finished tidying up the remnants of our previous activities, we congregated in the inviting seating area of my stateroom. The warm glow of ambient lighting wrapped around us as I had ordered steaming mugs of spiced beverages, perfect for settling into a tranquil evening of engaging conversation.

I leaned back against Minsha, her comforting warmth enveloping me like a soft blanket, and cast a sidelong glance at Stacy and Gwen, intrigued by their reflections on our journey so far.

“So,” I began, swirling the contents of my mug, the rich aroma filling the air, “what do you think about life in space so far?”

Gwen was the first to respond, her brow furrowed in contemplation as she took a slow sip from her drink. “I don’t know what I was expecting, honestly,” she confessed, her voice tinged with surprise. “I thought I’d feel more claustrophobic, but I’m shocked by how expansive everything feels. The ship doesn’t feel like a gigantic metal box floating through the vastness of space—it actually feels like a true home.”

Stacy nodded, a smile forming on her lips. “Exactly. I figured everything would come off as… stark or empty? But there’s a genuine sense of community here. It’s almost comforting.”

Leaning forward with curiosity ablaze in her eyes, Gwen posed a question that piqued my interest. “But my question is—what else is there to do? I mean, I can’t imagine that shopping is the only option available.”

I couldn’t help but smirk; that was the opening I had been hoping for.

“How would you two feel about visiting the training area tomorrow?” I suggested, a playful glint in my eye. “I can show you what my soldiers endure, and maybe even give you a chance to try out the range.” I raised an eyebrow, theatrically adding, “How would you like to fire a real space gun?”

Gwen’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her demeanor visibly shifting. “Wait—seriously?” she exclaimed, barely able to contain herself. “We can actually do that?”

I grinned, shrugging with nonchalance. “Who’s going to say no to me?”

The room erupted in laughter, the tension dissipating with it.

“Okay, fair point,” Stacy admitted, shaking her head in amused disbelief. “Perks of being Empress, huh?”

I chuckled, feeling the warmth of camaraderie. “But in all seriousness, it’s not a burden. Minsha and I both train regularly with our troops. That armor I wore on Earth? It wasn’t merely for protection—I’ve fought in it more times than I can remember. And so has Minsha.”

At that proclamation, Minsha’s serious nod added gravity to my words. “We do not observe from a distance. We stand among our people in battle.”

Gwen and Stacy exchanged looks, the weight of our reality hanging in the air.

I took a deep breath, running my fingers over the cool surface of my drink. “My time up here hasn’t always been filled with moments like this,” I confessed quietly. “When I first set foot on Queen’s Spire, I was thrust into conflict almost immediately. That led to a war of profound scale—one that dragged on for over a year and a half, reshaping everything.”

Stacy’s face shifted, the light in her eyes dimming as she processed my words. “Wait—what?”

I nodded, the weight of those memories evident on my face. “I wasn’t just sitting on a throne giving orders. I fought on the front lines, I bled, and I lost people that meant the world to me.” I glanced away, my voice dropping to a nearly inaudible whisper. “I didn’t discuss it around Mom and Dad because I didn’t want them to carry my burdens. I wanted to shield them as much as I could.”

Silence enveloped the room, heavy with understanding and unspoken emotions.

Stacy leaned in slightly, concern etched on her features. “Kara… that’s—” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I had no idea.”

Forcing a smile, I replied softly, “I didn’t want you to. Earth had already lost me once. I wasn’t willing to let them believe they had lost me again.”

Minsha squeezed my hand gently, her touch providing grounding amidst the swirling emotions.

Stacy exhaled slowly, nodding with realization. “Okay. I get it.” She offered me a small, reassuring smile. “But you’re here now. And if you ever want to talk about it, I’m always just a moment away.”

Finally, Gwen found her voice, quiet until then. “Same here. And for what it’s worth?” She flashed a teasing smirk. “I definitely still want to shoot that space gun tomorrow.”

The tension broke as laughter bubbled up once more, relief washing over us.

“Then it’s a plan,” I said, returning the smirk. “Tomorrow, we train.”

In that moment, a sense of warmth spread through me for the first time in a long while. It felt rejuvenating to share even a fragment of the truth.