When Tahlia returned from hall with stale loaf, the four that comprised of what lastly formulated the Artemis crew, spent the rest of the day keeled against a cold wall behind a locked door. Confusion about the situation itself soon would be clear by an odd visitor... Well, "visitor" would be a strange title to tie him too-- to tie it to.

Once the ship landed, or so it felt, the same blacked-skinned-skull-faced-creatures let loose the locked door and in walked another thing. It was a machine, yet quite more deluxe than the other bot before, this one though a similar white exterior actually appeared as a hint of humanity. The way it stared closely into the eyes of those who where what it imitated, head titled-- every movement seemed so real. It held out a hand in front Yaz, waiting patiently until she accepted it. Once its hands was grip, the bot ushered her up. It repeated this gesture with the others, managing that each stood on their feet.

"Pseudo: false but bearing the appearance of; pretender, unreal.

I am Pseudo.

I am a false copy of your humanity, a Pseudo-Human.

Nonetheless, I am the closest thing to your species, or was the closest thing... I as every 'Specie Simulation' was appointed by the Principality of Galaxies. My purpose, I will explain in due time, but first I must inform you of the Principality-- it is an oligarchy of five dominating races. The Principality is quite a brutal system, yet it is suffice to say the race each monarch represents thrives fearlessly.

The creatures outside this door, that I am sure you have observed before are known as the Britheians. A male-dominant race motivated by power, strength, and honor. Britheians take unbreakable pride in the Principality. Offenses against the order are not taken lightly.

Humanity has been accused of treason. Yet, the Principality spares mercy, they wish to speak to your king or your queen. I, Pseudo, will act as means of translation. As informed before, the bot first arriving on this ship was destroyed by a former crew mate. The Principality takes notice to the misdeed... It is advised to speak warily.

Who reigns as humanity's monarch?

Does humanity have a monarch?"

Tahlia finished her partition of the bread and water; a little less than 1/4 of each. She was confident the others would forgive a slight transgression, but she wanted to ensure the others had their fair share. When Owen made his remark, Tahlia simply looked at him and shrugged. Her body hadn't rejected the food yet, and hopefully that would remain the case. She swallowed the last of her portion of bread and water, using the latter to moisten the former somewhat. It sort of helped to make the bread feel more like bread, but it didn't help the taste much.

The others took their time eating their portions when the ship shook a little, then settled. It seemed they had made a stop somewhere. Hopefully they would finally get some answers. A couple of the aliens reappeared, accompanied by another robot. This one, however, looked like it was modeled to very closely resemble humans. It seemed to glance between everyone before going up to Yaz and bringing her to her feet. On impulse, Tahlia stood up on her own immediately following. The robot introduced itself -if you could call it an introduction- once everyone was standing.

Owen pushed himself up to his feet to avoid having to deal with the second robot touching him. He rubbed his sore wrists and watched with suspicion as the robot gave its spiel. Principality, Britheians, Species Simulation, the words seemed stripped straight out of a last century sci-fi film, but it was the idea that humanity had a single monarch at all that struck him as the most farfetched thought. Even if the world had gone down the utopian route instead of the dystopic, destructive one it had followed, Owen doubted people would ever be okay with following just one girl or guy, especially one pretentious enough to go back to the whole royalty system.

Then again, maybe it was just a translation error.

A heavy silence permeated around their cell as nobody stepped up to claim the crown; he certainly didn’t want to assume a role that required him to defend humanity for a crime he didn’t even know existed. Owen refused to look over at Echo, because he knew that she would be staring a hole into him right now, and instead found his eyes lingering on his shoes. There was no way Yaz could handle such a role; she didn’t need to be scared even more by having responsibility forced upon her. If it hadn’t been for the incident with Rend, he would’ve slapped Tahlia on the back and pushed her forward. Now, he was just thankful that she was smart enough to not try and take out the aliens with the remainder of that bizarre loaf of bread. Benji was gone; Rend too. The robots unnerving eyes bored into him. He shook his head and stepped forward.

Tahlia, herself, looked back between the other crew-members. If Benji were there she would have put the responsibility on him. He had been out of the cryo pods the longest and may very well have known something the others didn't. She wished that Benji hadn't gone full retard on that other robot and gotten himself in trouble. Now, even by her own opinion, it was pretty much between her and Owen, and Owen wasn't having the easiest time keeping his wits about him before; Tahlia could tell that much. Of course, there was one more thing worth asking before committing to being humanity's representative, as it were.

“I guess that’d--” he started.

"We would like--” she started.

It seemed that Owen had the same idea. The simultaneous interjection prompted another moment of silence as Tahlia looked over at him. Perhaps he would be better suited for the situation, being a psychologist. “Go ahead,” she said, taking a proverbial step back.

Owen visibly grimaced when Tahlia deferred to him; there had been a second when she had spoken that he hoped she’d just take command and that would be that, even if he did have some reservations about her being their representative. Now, the pressure was back on him. Originally, he had been playing to say ‘I guess that’d be me’. However, something about Tahlia’s phrasing made him feel like that, now, would be the wrong thing to say. ‘We would like’ didn’t sound like a claim to the make-believe throne that was being offered to them; it sounded like an attempt to barter some information out of the robot. Casting a sideways glance at Tahlia, he cleared his throat and reset himself.

“I guess that’d depend. We would like to know why we’ve been charged with treason,” he said, standing upright with his shoulders squared. “And we need to know if our fellow crew-mate is still alive.”

Though not the direction Tahlia was planning to go exactly, it wasn’t the worst start. And despite how he seemed before, he seemed more in control at this point. Still, she wasn’t about to let her own question go unanswered.

“Once we know that, we would like to ask for legal counsel before we say anything else.” She folded her arms as she said this, hoping that they were actually in a position to bargain. Realistically, they really weren’t, nor were they even remotely in their league. Did this civilization even have lawyers?

“Such information has not been distributed to me..." It was an aid to them, he was an aid to them. Pseudo's structure is one partly modeled and referenced after male anatomy without seeming far too graphic and detail. As an attempt to be human he was still treated like such. He was well aware of the galaxy they have never been home to. But as for the state of the crew and of Benji, he knew only as much as they. "My programming and behavior is one built upon the research of human beings abducted. All information stored about your species has been discovered through experimentation and interrogation." He stopped, he mustn't continue with a subject that could be noted later, because for now the highest concern was that who would reign as mankind's monarch.

"However, further detail could be stated at another time. As for legal counsel... Put all faith in whoever holds the lordship. They will make the defense.

I do know of the Principality's current stance made with humanity thus far. A meeting was held in the meantime that the Britheians were making your arrest... The Principality has not made a unanimous decision. It is advised to be represented through a monarch. Although the decision of not having one still remains. Being without a monarch could do both good and bad for you. Good in a sense that the Principality will see how ill prepared you were for first contact, and that you are mere pawns for who sent you. There they will have mercy for you. But bad in that they will see humanity as savages and barbarians, anarchist even."

“Well, Sue, they wouldn’t be completely wrong,” muttered Owen underneath his breath, failing to hide his frustration as he heavily sighed. “You know, they did a real good job when they made you. Like most middlemen, you’ve been incredibly helpful.”

He wrinkled his brow. Was it better to be pitied than considered a threat? Although, judging by this whole treason nonsense, he figured it’d be more threatening to be considered uncivilized rubes than to be a dying race with some traitorous agenda that could, ideally, be explained as some great misunderstanding. Since it had to be a misunderstanding, unless that Voyager thing they launched into space actually made contact with some alien race and they got really offended by Chuck Berry’s guitar. He doubted it would actually work, but maybe there was a chance that he could possibly clear the air.

Or maybe he could get all of them shot out into space by running his big mouth.

First, he had to clear the air with somebody else, because regardless of what happened earlier he still respected Tahlia, or at least her opinions. He leaned over to the woman, lowering his head so that he could discreetly whisper into her ear: “Think you can bear with calling me Your Highness for a spell?”

It figured that the robot would only provide vague details that were hardly helpful, and unfortunately, pressing on the issue would likely do them no good at this juncture. Tahlia lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose at this, and was then addressed by Owen. She had forgotten how irreverent he can be, but she hadn’t honestly expected it at a time like this.

“This is neither the time nor place for flippancy, Owen. I’d appreciate you not getting us all killed, or doomed to slavery or something.” She sighed and considered the thought of them both acting in such a capacity simultaneously. Then again, were that possible, the robot would have probably mentioned it. Still, better to ask than never know. “Do you think we could both do it?” she first whispered back to Owen.

“Guess we’ll find out,” he whispered back, raising his voice as he turned towards Pseudo. “Fine, I suppose there’s no point in hiding it any longer. Tahlia is my queen, and I am her king,” he said as he put his arm around her shoulder in a piss poor attempt to sell the lie, hoping with every ounce of his body that it didn’t end up broken. “We’ll speak to your Principality. Together.”

Tahlia figured Owen would take it in that direction, but hadn’t expected him to go so far as to throw his arm around her. She tried to stifle her instinctual urge to throw his arm back off of her, and instead opted to tactfully pull away. “Please, keep it professional... my king.” Ughhh, those words tasted sour coming out of her mouth, but she hoped her lack of acting talent didn’t show.

Pseudo was unresponsive, frozen. After an awkward pause, the bot retain communication. "I have just been summoned... Received information classified." The message transmitted was one he was bounded to keep from them. Pseudo allied with Humanity, the race is the reason why he functions but he was created by other creatures-- they are how he functions. Thus limitations are maintained, along with the mystery that is kept. The imagination can only wonder what the secret was about.

"King and Queen however you say? Very well, it is not a patriarchy nor a matriarchy, but perhaps egalitarian. Such is... controversial with the male monarch weak to lean on a queen. A queen tied to do the same with her king. However, such power can be established before the Principality, and thus will. As for the time now, I must depart from you.

As a wanted species who could be potentially harmed by forces outside of the Principality for crime of treason. You will be escorted to and housed in an isolated location. I will soon reunite with you there when free from further duties."

The door behind Pseudo slid open as he began to make his leave, "Humanity, welcome... If I be the first to say." And with that he exited to leave the crew alone with themselves yet again.

Tahlia half-sighed-half-groaned at the turn of events and brought her hand to her face. “All things considered, I’m glad I’m not taking the stand alone, but the melodrama was hardly necessary.”

Days passed, weeks passed, or so it seemed. Within a new world, time cycled differently than it did on earth. But being locked away from the outside permitted little experience and exploration. Perhaps it was for their own good. Yet, this routine of waiting for an audience with the government that seemed to run galaxies, that waiting had finally came to an end. Because one day they did not wake up inside a cozy palace surrounded by islands of snow, instead they found themselves seated aboard a train that floated among a beam of light soaring through the sky. The ability of the train to do so was no surprise to the prisoners, similar technology had been created on earth. Yet that train trailed a path allowing for the view of a stone tower... taking them to that stone tower.

It was Mount Olympus, throne room of the gods, or so it seemed. Arranged in semi-circle were the five beings, each a single representation compacted into one monarch.

That was the Principality of Galaxies.

And this is real.

No more theories and suspicion of a sociological experiment. No more thoughts and suggestions that those so-called "Skull-men" could be men in costumes. None of that could come anymore. Even the word alien was best not used if these creatures were just as living, breathing, and thinking as they are.

The thrones were elevated on a curved platform and behind each throne was a mural. These murals illustrated a race's significance. Whether that species was famed for breeding warmongers or originators, it was displayed through the faded colors of a single painting. For one's own race to be a portrayal and depiction of a single action must seem quite intimidating and perplexing to grasp. Yet at least it was informative, pictures need no translation. And with that, King Owen and Queen Tahlia are spared a hint of the creatures they would be conversing. Well, that is conversing through their translator, Pseudo. As the Human monarchs trudge their way to the path towards the faces of the Principality, they notice a sixth throne. As they could perhaps recall Pseudo had mentioned only five alien monarchs, but their stood an empty seat of royalty with the mural behind it concealed by strokes of black paint- a cover up. No matter, that should not be a distraction, but rather focus should be put towards the matter at hand, the fate of the entire Human race.

Pseudo walked in front of Owen and Tahlia with Yaz and Echo following in the back. Once Pseudo stopped, the bot bent to his knees, kneeling in presence of nobility, to which it expected that those behind him would do the same. After the genuflect, Pseudo rose upward and instead facing the monarch, he turned around towards the crew.

"Before discussion is made of your crime,

King Owen and Queen Tahlia, the Principality is not convinced that you are truly the monarchs of Humanity.

No, another member of your colony has instead claimed role of king..."

The same massive metal doors that had just been released for the opening when Tahlia, Owen, Echo, and Yaz entered through, had again been moved to make way for yet another visitor, a familiar visitor. But his voice was far from familiar,
now it seem much more

distorted.

"Fall'n Cherube, to be weak is miserable. Doing or Suffering: but of this be sure. To do ought good never will be our task, but ever to do ill our sole delight... you fuckin' eejits."

He appeared before them, stepping out from the shadows behind the sixth throne. He chuckled briefly, and discordant tones crackled from his mouth.

"This bunch aren't familiar with Paradise Lost. You know who the protagonist is? Satan." Ailbeart Rend's face held a countenance that none of the crew of the Artemis had ever seen before - a wide grin spread across his face, his one unobstructed eye bulged down at them and his pupil flitted from person to person with an unprecedented energy. His hair, in contrast, was less lively, for only grey wisps coated his skull and they were altogether unkempt. He was dressed in some kind of blue robe that appeared somewhat skin-tight yet malleable, yet it pooled away from Rend slightly just before it touched the floor. Though he had lay supine, on the verge of death, maintained by machines and the fragile clemency of the crew, now the man was anything but. He had been reanimated from his corpse-like state, and stood to look down on the crew once more, only not from the heavens. If they harboured any questions of how, or who, or why, Rend answered gleefully by raising a hand to his neck and dispersing the (apparently not solid) material that had been a part of his robe. Underneath, the answers lay. Rend's skin grew taut between his chin and Adam's apple, and it stretched paper-thin where the first instances of metal began. The technological reparation of his neck then spanned six centimetres long and five centimetres wide. The metal did not allow any portal or gap through which the interior of the previously damaged trachea might be seen, but one can imagine the incomprehensible alien technology that now powered and maintained the breathing, and indeed the very life, of the one man who had so commonly mouthed patronising epithets against technological advancement.

"Although, I think I'd liken myself more to something like... Frankenstein. Oh, wait, he was the doctor - what I really mean is Frankenstein's Monster." The grin vanished from Rend's face, instead a brooding somberness possessed him. It was now clear that his violent encounter with Tahlia, and whatever had transpired when the aliens had ahold of his near lifeless body, had irrevocably changed the nature of his voice. He was no longer capable of vocal inflections or much variation in pitch. Though words full of menace and anger formed on his tongue, they conveyed themselves as monotone drivel.

"But enough about me," exclaimed the drastically different, robotically-augmented Rend, "I'm sure the Principality would like to know what a handful of would-be usurpers are doing here..."

Pseudo translated Rend's dialogue in terms and language the alien Principality would understand. In return, the deemed monarchy responded in foreign speech, however yet again Pseudo translates but now for the humans,

"They wish to know true allegiance, Yaz and Echo," the machine announced the two girls by name though they themselves had never informed him of such. This information was obtained through the Artemis, once it was cleared of the crew. It is obvious further investigation would undergo through scavenging the ship data. "Stand behind your monarch."

The Principality began conversing between each other. Perhaps, Tahlia had captured the favor of the Principality. Perhaps things were turning up for them. Though, the hopeful feeling did not last...

Soon after Tahlia had finished, Echo made her own move. It was outside of the box. Far, outside the box.

Gasps permeated, pervaded the throne room. Echo knew not of what she had done, but she better not expect forgiveness. None, would be spared. Her action be best the equivalent of poison- venom in vial poured in the tongues of every alien monarch, and even into the mouths of her very own crew. But that was no longer her crew, she was no longer apart of them. Echo had to be separated.

"Strierot!" the loathed profanity was cursed first by the aquatic queen, apart of a race known as the Keiko... This curse interrupted Pseudo as he was still in progress of translating all of what Rend said.

The others joined in the chant, "Strierot! Strierot! Strierot!"

"Strierot: in a human translation...," Pseudo began, as it even seem to react in fluster, grabbing the shoulders of both Owen Tahlia, turning them to explain. "It means heretic. They have escalated the extremity of the crime. Treacherous heretic. This is a sin against the Divine Regency! Your monarchical disorder means nothing to them now. It is most fortunate to leave. I will beg the request for departure before further chaos unravels." Pseudo rotated around to the superiors to which he witness, just as all in the room did, Echo darted with bullets charged with electrifying shocks. The bolts, coursing through from the inside and out, left her screaming while trembling.

As guards adorn in royal ceremonial armor encircled the insurgent, Pseudo jolted in his head in a sideways rotation, though not fully facing either from the crew, "Only one of you was correct about the current state of the human rule. And he is not here. If there is to be any respect, a clear governing body would be appropriate.

Although, the supposed queen, you Tahlia, seemed to hold the attention of the Principality. But only so briefly."

It was not clear what violence was being projecting towards Echo, if any, due to the bodies of extraterrestrials working walls to block observation. Though there was yelling and roaring about. When Echo was lifted to be dragged off, she did not seem battered or beaten, but rather the guards seemed to keep composure even to such unforgivable, unforgettable offense. Though was that to keep her as fresh as possible for foretelling retribution?

Once such commotion had departed from the throne room, the faces of the monarchs were now grim and contorted with distaste. It was probable that whatever further claims any of the individual humans made, the Principality would see in a darkened and demented manner. Thus, Pseudo knelt, speaking the foreign language to plead dismissal as he informed the others of that being what he planned to do.

---

Owen, Tahlia, Yaz, and now Rend, instead of Echo, boarded the train that once transported them there to the tower. They were headed home, or that was at least the best description for the icy island they resided in. To keep the location of this place in greatest secrecy, the crew was not even allow to know the direction and path they were headed. So, the same cyan sleeping gas emerged in release from the same distinct disk-shape device seen the first time they were forced to slumber. This was the second time.

Once conscious and awake, the four found themselves seated among a table set with metal bowls for the each of them. These bowls, had in them Pebble-Porridge- not the most flattering dish to eat. The grains of the rough brittle rice gets it name from having the similar appearance to kidney stones. At least it did not taste repulsive, rather just bland and insipid. This was clearly peasant food, the type of stuff served to low-life. Well, they could not each like king and queens yet, they did not even have one.

"The description and explanation was intended to be described during your first audience with Principality. However there were interruptions... an unplanned event. Enjoy the meal, in the meantime, I will contact the Principality via the Telecommunication Waves with cellular function. I will request that I be permitted to now acknowledge you of specific treason and why it was deemed upon the human race.

For now, it is suggested to come in agreement in terms of monarchy..."

Pseudo exited the dining room of the isolated palace. Leaving them on their own.

---

Echo, though perhaps faint due to the voltage shock, was heaved down the tower stairs, pulled by the neck and collar. Sometimes, while going down the many flights of stairs, she was instead thrown to tumble down each step, feeling bruised by each one. Thus when she finally arrived to the first floor, her state of consciousness was quite weary. Echo's vision blurred, figures distorted and unrecognizable as she could only barely hear the alien language speak:

"Ettyk Strierots! Naqu henn eaq'yhru truotyrk freidrylst the Vruewrurd! Crub henn rapruk Vruari! Mesynn ybenn gneqreahshue, stouob kaxux klan!"

"C-Clieffyhsea glicea... Knis troukkilp phoess kaxux klan. Henn freidrylst gledrom otihr syxeolka freidrylst?"

Benji's fingers unhooked from Echo, while shedding straight eye-contact, staring with lip curling downwards. Yet, his head soon rotated in view of the van's back door, it was open. His bare-feet stepped towards that direction. He wished to say something, anything, but what could save a broken promise? What could restore the truth from a lie? I'm not letting go of you, that was he truth abolished. Only the risk he took now would atone for such sin. Though, he was close to gaining trust, their trust. To defy now would be to put in vain all his dedication. But perhaps his plan was not a defiant one. "Echo..." He called her by name while his feet advanced back steps towards the exit. He could hear, and slightly understand the voices commanding his presence outside. "I-I..I--" There he was again stuttering, choking on his own words, defeated by them. "...Trust me."

He stepped into the light, outside. Then, the door once again closed. What was Benji's plan? He came, he spoke, she responded, and then he left. What was his reason? Perhaps those were two questions Echo wrestled with now. Or maybe not, maybe she had already established an answer.

The quiet ride to whatever destination continued until Echo sensed the van stopping. Now, the door released in opening, this time, for her. She could hardly stand. That didn't matter. She was roughly grabbed and hauled to her feet, half-walking, half being dragged along. Once departed from the vehicle, she first passed by a special statue made of stone and glass. This creature was the closest thing to human, but strange... utterly strange. And etched into the pedestal it was structured on read, "Vruari". She was only given the allowance of a glimpse as the guards bowed in reverence to the effigy, before being escorted further into what lied ahead, a place of worship.

Gathered around appraised statues located inside the First Temple, were offerings of the many sorts: flowers, gems, coins, candles, incense. And beside those gifts for the Divine, were their devotees- creatures of many colors, most recognizable from the Principality. It was beautiful though, to view extraterrestrials in more dignified and majestic style. The exotic language itself no longer resonated so jarringly, not once sung in exaltation.

Echo was forced through a pathway apart from the central place of worship, yet she traveled deeper into the First Temple. Stairs... more stairs. She frantically reached out to grab onto her captors to prevent being thrown down another flight. However, there was no need, these were not used as a weapon. They took the steps down to a lower level. After passing by figures clothed in silk cloaks of turquoise and bronze, she enters a special little room. Now, the wood panels of the room were taped by sheets and sheets of paper, scattered among the walls. What was written on these individual sheets of paper could range from plain English to foreign symbols to drawings. That is where she was shoved inside and left, only to be joined by Benji but a moment later.

"You see, only the Divine Regency can lawfully mark you a Strierot, not the Principality. All it took was a bit of reminding that you're untouchable." Benji wiped the blood seeping from his nose as a candlelight illuminated his black eye. "Well, a bit more than that."

So, someone knows more about alien legal practices than the rulers do. Sure, Benji, you haven't been tampered with at all.
Echo made to walk, but found one leg not behaving. She almost fell. Rather than showing such weakness, she composed herself and forced herself to walk normally on her injured hip, wincing at the effort. She helped Benji clean up his bloody nose. "I would hope to leave you unsupervised at least a little while without getting into some sort of confrontation. Tell me that the other boy looks worse off than you. What am I going to do with you?"

"Principality loyalists get a bit pissy when you point the obvious power their beloved monarchs lack... Call me crazy, but I wouldn't have done it any other way," he gave a crooked smile while wincing through the pain.

She glanced around at the interior. "You shouldn't have done that, Benji. It's just going to take a moment for some self-righteous demigod to look down his nose at me and say 'shure she looks like she could be a herritic to me.' Now, they will toss you in with my lot. So, thank you, Benji, I..." Her voice trailed off, she didn't realize she was getting so worked up about a little thing like dying. Pull yourself together, you idiot! So Benji wants to go down with the ship too. He already did once, just leave it. At least you won't go alone.
"I... um, thank you."
She instinctively reached out as hearing noise from outside. Her hand withdrew, but she caught herself and intentionally reached out and held his. Somehow it seemed fitting that the two that were by all means dead to humanity would go forth into death together as though the simple gesture could somehow act as a tether through the great void.

Benji curled his palm beneath hers, while maneuvering his other hand to hold onto her shoulder. This secured her limping path to his cot. He sat her down, propping her legs onto the surface of the bed. "Tell me what hurts," Benji then bounced directly into doctor-mode, making an inspection here and there on the condition of her health. After a quick examination for major injuries, he did not find anything pressing...

"Echo, I understand if you might wonder why I know too much. But see all of this--" Benji tore a few of the pages off the wall, "This is my way of coping when I'm left alone. It is why I know so much about these creatures. It gives me a peace of mind, to come to terms that in order for me to seem less animal, I nee to seem less lost. I've been willing to learn ever since I was given a second chance after destroying Principality property." Benji began attaching the papers back to their former places. "Echo, if you question what I have become, I don't blame you. But I'm the same man, the same optimistic man. But it is hard to find the positives alone...and I hate being alone."

Alone... the word echoed through Echo's mind as she sat in back of her flying car heading to her new home in some mansion much larger than anything her family could afford. She had been able to secure far more avarice than all of them combined. All relatives agreed that that they knew she would do the best of all of the coddled youngest generation. She was basically an empress now, with factories and institutions, political entitles and trade companies rooted around the world. She had become nothing less than a celebrity, but it wasn't the public's attention she had caught; she was a celebrity to brokerage companies, and the NASDAQ. She wasn't exactly accustomed to the need for a chauffeur or a body guard. But they had become necessary. Nor did she prefer custom-built vehicles that were laser and ballistic missile proof, and capable of being handled by a human without aid of a computer. Then again, never before had she been more hated by the public, now that would take some getting used to.
Upon pulling to a stop outside of the estate, she departed, body-guard in tow. It was a little odd, considering that most celebrities went the robotic route without having to entrust their safety to someone who might be bought off. Her shopping was passed off to the servants, and she proceeded through the halls with a prompt click of her modest yet elegant footwear. She entered the study to see a man seated with his back to the door pouring over documents with a glass of scotch. She approached, and slipped her hands down his shoulders and across his chest, bringing him out of his concentration. She kissed his ear gently.

Ailbeart Rend turned to examine his wife of a meager two months. "I'm a bit busy, Lass."

"I just wanted you to know that I missed you," Echo explained with a smile, "I'll let you get back to work."

"Missed me? After one afternoon of shopping?" He questioned with a half of a smile.

"Well, I must admit that it is entirely my handiwork for dissolving my patience. Since I could not help but be reminded of you while I shopped, and I bought you something. However, you are going to have to drag the answer out of me, for I will not dare tell you what it is," She taunted.

"Oh really, and what is to happen if you have another one of these moments while I am in Baghdad next month?"

"I will have to distract you, tease you, antagonize you, until you abandon all business and race back to Scotland just to alleviate your suffering. Perhaps I will start a charity in your name, or launch a non-prophet that stomps on your toes in the South African market." He snuffed out a pleased half-laugh and dove back into his next conquest. Of course she would not be joining him, it was work, and he needed to focus. There would be plenty of time for romancing when he got back. With one more peck on the ear and no further address, she departed the chamber, lingering at the door a moment to look at the back of her husband. Then the door closed without a noise, and she took a brisk walk to the exercise room.

Benji seemed to be tagging along.
"I think I will play some Destiny Rising and contemplate suicide in the process," she told him.

Rounding the corner, she climbed into her simulation/exercise system, that was part of FREV-R. Her arms slid into holes, and her feet into others as she was seated. She was encased in a bubble of televisions that promptly displayed the start-up of the video game. This was the closest to genuine video games that her husband allowed, and she used the excuse for entertaining exercise more than merely amusement. Immediately a fantasy simulation started, and she began running through terrain and obstacles, pulling out a sword in the process. The simulated underbrush began blasting past, and she waved her hand to remove the obstruction.

Benji was somehow inside with her.

"I'm so tired of this! I'm so tired of all of this mess, drama after drama! I have to patch up everybody's stupid, and somehow figure out how to take care of myself in the process. Not only do I have to tend to my siblings and my parents, my aunts and uncles and grandparents, now I have Ailbeart and his wildfires I have to deal with too! Don't get me wrong, he has been incredibly affectionate, and he will make hellfire rain down on anybody that dares say anything negative about me, but I'm just part of his conquest. Every time I show a part of who I really am to him, he gets annoyed. So, now I'm trapped, playing some sort of tease. It's so exhausting keeping up the act all of the time, but what would have been even more exhausting is the constant nagging I would have had from my mother and sisters and aunts and grandma if I didn't throw myself at him. Now, I'm having to protect them from him too. I don't even know how to break it to them that Ailbeart doesn't even want a child (at least I won't have to deal with a kid as well.) I know they are going to pitch a fit when they find out. I can't make any of them happy! Look at me, I have met every single one of their expectations, and I'm STILL not enough for anybody!
Her character stopped all action as she released the controls to palm her face and rub hard. She allowed the enemy to continue assaulting her without so much as a raised hand for shelter. "I just... I'm ready for all of this to end! I'm so tired. I wish I didn't care, but I do! I wish I could just be self-centered like the rest of them."

She watched a moment. Finally the game-sprite succumbed to injuries and expired, "I wish this was real..."

Everything she saw, from Rend's face to the pixels of the virtual simulation, Benji also saw. This was her perspective. And along with that, were the feelings, her emotions were not her own, while Benji remained locked inside her own conscience.

Could she hear his thoughts? Know why he withstood those two years in total isolation, when he absolutely hates it? Well, he wasn't alone.

"How do I stop this mess?" She responded in exasperation, "If I just kill myself, it will cause a scandal and I'll disappoint everybody. I've thought about everything! There isn't any way to do it. I was going to go sailing and toss myself overboard. I can't do that, they won't let me sail alone! I was going to just OD on some drugs but the success rate is only 33%, if I survive then I am just the dummy who can't count pills. I thought about a laser pistol, heck I HAVE the laser pistol in my purse, but if I do it, I will never be anything more than the looser that couldn't cope with life!"

"Forget coping..," He muttered, quietly with his foreign alien papers grasped by both hands. "Echo, trust me when I say, coping is nothing but indulging in distraction. No, listen--" Benji gave a quick flick of his wrist, thrusting the papers from out of his palm. "Remember on the van, when you offered your own life to potential execution or torture, so that the crew be saved and you blamed. And I said no-- swallowed the whole freaking message, because I was not going to let anything or anyone hurt you. I took a bloody nose and black eye for you! I'm keeping you alive, forget Humanity, I worry myself about us! Us, because I know the desperation, Echo! You and me, aren't so much different."

Echo glared over at Benji as though he had sprouted lobsters from his ears. Sure it was Benji as Benji ever was, but something was radically wrong. He knew what it was immediately. His voice he now held had always been THE voice, tormenting her, coaxing her to dig deeper and deeper into her subterranean depression. Now, suddenly it was speaking as you might expect a person to do. A shiver ran down her spine, and she stood from her encasement to look him square in the eye. "Who, the devil, are you?"

"My deepest darkest secret was crawling around on the ship's vents. You know who I am."

Suddenly things came snapping back into making sense, well... a different sense that is. Sure she had the past years and such of everything that actually happened instead of all of that fantasy about freezing people and training programs, but she also remembered the Artemis and Benji and the others overlapping each other like sheets of text printed on transparent paper. Then one key fact struck her, she had fallen asleep in the cell in the temple. At this point she always woke up, always. In fact, it was before that revelation usually, but not this time. Not this time because for the first time in her life, she was not allowed to leave of her own free will. For the first time in her life she was not the dreamer.

"Well if I'm going to be completely honest about secrets-- there is one last thing. You're not the first to have dreams like this." Benji marched in way over to a familiar statue, Echo did not have to read its etched title to know what it was. But this time, the Vruari moved, it breathed. She had seen it standing in the background the entire time, however, until Benji pointed it out, she never really noticed it. "I never mentioned these dreams, because I never knew it was real."

Once Echo awoke, she realized it was only her in his room; Benji was no where to be found, or so it seemed for the first couple of moments.
"H-hey Echo, we've got to a get a move on. Guess where we are headed-- better yet, keep it a surprise," he blurted the words as soon as the door cracked even an inch open. From the tone of his voice, Benji seemed rather excitable, but not because of the dream. Rather, he looked forward for the coming location.

He neared closer to her, making way onto the edge of the bed. His palm slid into her hand, "Hey, u-um... We are definitely going to talk later. Definitely." Holding her hand, he supported Echo to her feet. "Echo, I want you to know that, you are very special." Benji was well-aware there are after-effects to multi-dreaming: sleeping walking, sleep-paralysis, hallucinations, and even schizophrenia. But as of now, Echo did not seem to react in any irrational manner. Or at least, he hope she would not be struggling with any of the after-effects that could cause her to stir trouble with the guards escorting them.

"Okay, I'm going to pick you up. It be better than limping around on a sore hip. Also, you may be feeling extremely exhausted, even faint. Everyone does when it's their first time multi-dreaming. Just close your eyes, we'll be there pretty soon..."

Once in the ship, Benji set Echo down on the couch, to which after he did so to himself. He thought about suggesting that she go sleep in her old room, but it probably be best she was there and present with the rest of the crew. Benji sighed, waiting for the others to arrive while scan his surroundings. For the most part, the living area looked the same. Nothing from it was missing, although the same could not be said for their rooms. He has already been informed that within the Principality's investigation of the Humans, their own personal belongings were seized for analysis. Though, he requested that with his submission, their things be returned. The Principality accepted and soon they will regain all that was once taken.

"Mind if I play some music in the meantime?" Benji approached the stereo, scrolling through songs on the machine's monitor until he found his favorite classical piece, Clare de Lune by Claude Debussy. Benji only listens to classical every once in a while, since he is more of an EDM kind of guy. But he figured to play something light for Echo, while waiting for the rest.

As soon as the first member of the crew that was housed over in the Exiled Utopia, they could overhear the classical piece resonating over in the living area. Benji chose to meet them there because he believed that they did not have to let one incident define an entire room. The first impression, will not be the only impression-- there are obstacles that must be overcome if they are to ever be accepted into the exotic culture of extraterrestrials. The crew is in the their world now, they are the aliens. It be best if they work to seem less so.

"So we meet again..." He made eye-contact with Tahlia first, though greeted Yaz with a quick embrace around the shoulder. He was looking forward to seeing her ever since he left with a broken promise. He sore would never run away, and yes he did not run away, but he was not there for her. Yet as time grew, the regret seemed to wear off, because in the end he was there for Echo when she needed him the most.

"How have things been, ma'm? Have a lot to explaining to do myself, but I want to know what the crew's been up to, or at least how you're doing." he questioned, turning his body to face Tahlia, yet his eyes locked in glare with Rend.

All I need is one reason to rip your eye-patch off-- Argh, focus Benji! That doesn't matter right now!