text: The Palace of Luna was, in a word, enormous. However, if one were to assign a second descriptor to it, they might choose eclectic. For it borrowed from a seemingly endless array of architectural schools that seemed to result in pure chaos, but that was only when you looked upon it from afar. Upon closer inspection, the various styles and schools created a sort of interlocking pattern that morphed and changed even as you examined it. The strangely beautiful result of this seemingly random mixing of architectural styles had ended up being widely hailed as the pinnacle of human aestheticism. Its interior was no different, the wildly varying styles bled into each other, and one could become lost in the rapturous beauty of the maze-like corridors of the castle. In fact, more than one individual had done just that, though regular patrols from the devout guardsmen of the Palace kept anyone from becoming permanently lost. In the throne room of the Palace, the Queen was currently receiving petitioners. The dizzyingly high columns supported a ceiling that arched far above the court. Dozens of humans milled on the sidelines, some required to attend, bound by their duties. Others merely sought to entertain themselves and viewed the petitioning as a distraction from the daily grind of their various obligations. They tittered amongst themselves from behind their stone and metal masks as the next petitioner kneeled and began to speak. “Your majesty, I greet you oh most luminous Queen of Luna. I come before you today to prey upon your generosity. My people, the Cathrundi are currently suffering at the hand of the Letraxin, they have invaded our worlds. I fear that we will not be able to repel them with our own meager power and so I have been sent to beseech your aid. That you have deigned to hear my request at all honors not only myself, but my kin as well.” The man who spoke wasn’t really a man, at least not a human man. His species shared humanity’s sexual dimorphism, and it even manifested similarly. However, beyond that they weren’t terribly similar. His species was far larger than humans and bore their children in a way more similar to marsupials than humans. They also found the extremely high oxygen levels that humanity preferred somewhat toxic. They could survive for a few days in such an environment, but after that they would begin to suffer severe side effects. This aversion to human atmosphere excused the exo-suit he wore as he presented himself to the Queen. Though for his speech, he had removed his helmet in a show of respect for the Queen as he bowed deeply on the first four of his six legs. His head, like the rest of his body, was scaly, lending him a reptilian look, though the shape of his head, as well as the unmistakable beak, was more birdlike than anything. He remained in that pose for long seconds after he delivered his request for aid. He knew he was lucky to even receive an audience with the Queen of Luna. She was extremely busy, and the sheer quantity of sapient beings seeking to petition her far outweighed the amount she could ever possibly receive. He’d had no choice but to try his luck as all other official attempts to gather allies to aid in his people’s fight against the Letraxin had failed miserably. This was his people’s last hope for salvation. If the Queen did not grant them succor, then they would be trampled by the endless legions of the Letraxin, and those who survived the invasion would be taken as slaves to serve their new masters. “You have been heard, Decqual, descendant of Norperien and representative of the Cathrundi. You may rise.” The Queen of Luna spoke in a clear, measured tone. Her voice was like the sound of distant church bells echoing across a dewy meadow. Just hearing her voice was pure delight for the vast majority of sapient species, and Decqual was no exception. He was just barely able to maintain a somber facial expression as he rose to face the Queen, though it was an immense struggle as his heart lit with joy upon hearing her speak. He faced her, she was small, even for a human. Her skin was slightly transparent, proudly displaying her slight musculature and the gently pulsing veins that ran along her arms. Her face was hidden by a heavily stylized silver mask that covered even her eyes, though he knew that she could quite clearly see him in spite of it. Her pale blue dress nearly rose to meet the mask, leaving on the barest amount of her neck exposed as it flowed like water to pool at her feet, the silvery-white accents serving to make it seem as if she was actually garbed in water. Decal stood and faced her, maintaining eye contact with the mask as was traditional in the Queen’s Court when she asked that you rise. “Your people are new to the galaxy I believe. I remember when we first heard of your kind establishing a colony some four centuries ago. We foresaw then that you might become easy targets and warned you to prepare for the coming storm, and yet that was not enough. Why have you failed to prepare to protect yourselves? Why are you so *weak*?” The Queen’s words were scathing, and Decqual could not help but flinch as she questioned his people’s inadequacies. “Your majesty,” he began selecting his words carefully. “Your words did not go unheeded, and we did prepare for others to encroach upon what we claimed. However our people are not so long-lived as yours and as generations passed so did our vigilance. Our philosophers called for a more peaceful reign claiming that by clinging to violence we only lowered ourselves and that true enlightenment could only be achieved through pacifism. The shifting tides of culture through the flow of time has weakened us and now we pay the price for it most dearly. I can provide no good excuse for our failures as a species only this explanation of our folly and shortsightedness. I humbly beg your forgiveness in spite of that.” Decqual’s answer drew chuckles from the surrounding courtiers. Their faces were hidden behind a variety of masks that varied not only in style but material composition. However, very few were of silver, for only those of royal blood were allowed to wear silver masks, and successors to the throne rarely lived very long. He noted that not a single laugh left the throat of those with silver masks that he was able to notice. He wondered at that and its potential significance, but his thoughts were interrupted when the Queen delicately cleared her throat, silencing the laughter echoing in the courtroom. “Such failures are difficult for me to overlook. However, I can understand why a species so young and short-lived might be equally short-sighted. These were traits that even we humans once held in ages long past. Though we have grown beyond our original constraints, it is wise to remember we were not always gods striding above the mortals with whom we share this galaxy.” Her speech seemed to be an admonishment to those who had laughed at Decqual, and he felt a mote of relief. If nothing else, she was understanding, though it was unclear if that would translate to her bequeathing aid to his cause. The Queen paused for several long moments, and the courtroom and its occupants waited silently for her next words. “That being said, to cast aside your ability and will to commit violence is akin to casting aside your right to live. Tell me, why should I assist a species that has willingly thrown itself off a cliff? Why should I help those who seek to help themselves to their deaths?” Decal considered her question. She was right of course, that they had brought this upon themselves. By casting aside violence, they had brought death upon themselves. He could not and would not deny anything she had stated. How to answer her then? What reason could he possibly give to the Queen of Luna that would satisfy her? He himself had called for the re-establishment of his people’s military in these past years, and yet he and others like him had gone ignored up until now when it was already too late. It was truly hard to see how his species deserved redemption when cast under the judging light of Luna. But perhaps he could use that light to his advantage, for that light was currently cast upon him, and it was *his* words and actions that bore weight here in this courtroom. And he was one of the few Cathrundi who was proud to carry on the ancient ways of war, if only in mimicry. He straightened his back and placed his helmet upon his head, the seal clicking shut. “I have no words that might prove that my people deserve to be saved. I shall instead show you through action that we yet deserve to live.” The guards by the throne tensed as his words, but he had already begun to move by the time they realized his intent. The Queen gazed upon him unmoving even as he lunged towards her, her mask as impassive as ever as blades unfolded from the arms of his exo-suit. He had surrendered his pulse cannon upon entering the Palace. It was a relic passed down through his family line but still a good weapon. He missed it sorely now as the blades of his exo-suit came down upon the shield of one of the guards. The other guard used the opportunity to lunge forward with his spear, but Decqual was too quick and jumped backward, just barely avoiding the blow. His suit was armored, but human material sciences were millennia beyond anything his people knew, and he did not trust his suit’s armor to hold up against human weaponry. He was glad that the guards had yet to reach for the pistols upon their hips, for if they did, the fight would be over in no time at all. He lunged forward again, both of the guards held up their shields, spears poking forth from behind them. He bounced to the side as he edged towards the spears using the light gravity to launch himself into a spiral. The guard closest to him must have realized what he was doing and, in a quick motion swung his shield, throwing it into Decquals path. A quick burst of his suit’s thrusters corrected his course away from both the shield and the Queen. At this point, many of the courtiers had fled to the corners of the room farthest from her majesty, which suited Decqual just fine as it gave him more room to maneuver. He decided that to truly prove his point, he would have to stop dancing about, and as he landed, he launched himself forward straight at the guards. One of them launched just as he did and was caught by surprise. Decquals left blade struck him squarely in his chest and sent him flying upwards. Decal slowed on the impact, unfortunately allowing the other guard to score a blow on him tearing through his armor just as easily as Decqual had previously feared. The Queen’s voice rang out as the guard’s spear withdrew and prepared for a second blow, “Enough, you have proven your point representative of the Cathrundi.” With that proclamation Decqual’s blades retreated and the guards resumed their postings at either side of the throne, though their expressions betrayed a continued wariness of Decqual. “I beg your forgiveness your majesty. I could think of no other way to prove that we Cathrundi are not beyond redemption. The desire to fight, to live, it still burns bright in us. I do not come here to beg that we be saved, only that we be given the chance to fight back.” Decal hoped that this last impassioned plea would work. He was rewarded with laughter from the Queen as she bent over in her throne, clutching her stomach. Her normally gentle and restrained voice had been overcome by a raucous belly laugh that disconcerted everyone in the room. The Queen regained her composure after a few moments and stood up from her throne, “Your answer is filled with vigor and passion, I find your desire to rail against the cultural constraints of your people, and the universe that seeks to destroy you...amusing. I shall grant you your desire. You shall be granted weaponry commesnsurate with your people’s technological prowess. It will, however, be up to your people to use those weapons to save themselves. Do not waste this gift, for if you do I will ensure your extinction in return for wasting my goodwill.” “Your generosity knows no bounds Queen of Luna, with this proclamation I shall leave your presence and return to my people with the material you have so graciously bequeathed unto us. We will not forget this kindness in the long years to come.” Decqual gave a final bow to The Queen and was escorted from the hall. From there, everything became a blur as he was presented with a veritable river of documentation to sign. He signed it all without bothering to read the documents. It didn’t matter either way if any of the legalese in the documents was not in his people’s favor. Without this aid they would die regardless. So he signed everything that was put in front of him, eventually plowing through it all. After that particular ordeal, he was guided back to his ship. The captain of his ship had already docked inside the hangar of a truly massive human cargo vessel. The ship was still being loaded when he approached. Crates upon crates of weapons and armor for infantry were being loaded alongside long-range fighter craft and other vehicles of war. The vessel was larger than even his people’s largest space stations, and it was being filled to the brim with weaponry. His heart flowed over with joy at the sight. Many would fight and die so that they might survive, but for the first time since the invasion had started, there was hope that they might survive the coming days.