Chapter 1

Ramius took a breath before entering the ‘box of death’, a grey angular shuttle that stood on four skids about a third of a meter off the ground. It had small stunted wings protruding from the top. They were reported to give a small increase in efficiency during atmospheric flights but he was fairly sure they were for aesthetics. He would have felt safer in a dropship, a lot safer, but transport was transport. He wasn't about to call in favours and create new enemies just for his own comfort. Besides, he was less worried about himself then he was the two gigantic stainless steel vats that filled the majority of the shuttle; leaving only a few spare seats in the front. He knew that his worries were silly. Even if they drifted alone in space and reentered the atmosphere as naked as the day they were grown they would survive. Even if fifty per cent of them burned up, an unrealistically high per cent, they would regenerate. It was the principle of the matter he decided. ‘You wouldn't want scratch your new speeder even if you could buff it out.’ With his thoughts in order he strapped himself into the five-point harness. To his left sat the grey jumpsuited technician. What was his name again? Jason? “Jason”

This was the first time the prince directly addressed Jason in several months; even after nearly a year of confinement both aboard the lab and the transport, “Yes my Prince?”

“Have you seen Doctor Stevenson? I realized I haven't seen him in a while”

“... He’s in the brig, sir.”

The prince shot the technician a sharp look “What do you mean in the brig.” It was true that the eccentric Stevenson was the last person he wanted to present to the court if he was indisposed all the better. He did feel a bit bad for him but politics and people was not his realm of expertise.

“Well, sir he jumped up on a table in the officers mess then striped … then shouting at the top of his danced his way out while kicking everyone's food in there faces”

“...”

A moment of silence passed between them as they glanced at each other in mutual nonverbal amusement and horrification.

“...”

“That would do it” the prince agreed. Glad once again that he didn't need to present him.

Glancing towards the cockpit Ramius put the headset on and pressed the push-to-talk on the side of the seat. “Were ready back here.” The pilot waved in acknowledgement.

A half minute later the large side door closed and sealed with a "hiss". Another half minute and a shudder went through the shuttle telling its occupants that they were no longer in contact with the station.

Ramius look back at the technician, perhaps in his mid-twenties, and asked: “When's the last time you were planetside?”

“Bout a year and a half. If I might ask my prince how long have you been without an earth”

That what they called any planet you last stood on, your earth. The name originated from somewhere in history but no one could figure out its etymology.

“Eight years”

“You haven't seen your family is eight year? Then who taught you? You’re young, only eighteen, you should have just finished your general education but I didn't see any teachers in the lab.”

“I study independently. I have of course finished business, intermediate level officer, royalty, government, politics, chemistry, and medicine majors skill paths. Along with a plethora of minor skill paths, hand to hand combat, communication, marketing, stuff like that.” He waved a dismissive hand, “Now I spend most of my time writing papers under an alias.”

The chagrined technician shut up and resolved to keep his mouth closed. Major skill paths were extremely hard to complete. They were free, part of the public database, but consisted of uncondensed information and seemingly random unorganised tests and quizzes. Completing one was a major accomplishment that could land you a top-level job, completing seven though. That was nearly unheard of. Even Doctor Stevenson had completed only six and he was a super genius… then again so was the prince. He looked educated, even smart, but lacked the enmity to communication and interpersonal connections that most of his intellectual peers boasted. And his minor skills! One of those could land you a mid-level job. His curiosity taking the better of him he asked. “How long did it take you to complete each major skill? You're only eighteen afterall”

“Each one took me about a year, although there were some years where I was able to double up with several minor skills. When we started making bigger leaps in the weapons development I stopped completely.”

He talked about it so nonchalantly that the technician could not believe his ears and said as much.

The prince didn't get mad but just quirked an eyebrow, “Why does my claim sound fictitious?”

“Because there's only a handful of people in the galaxy who have achieved anything over six major skills.”

“Nonsense,” the prince said, “I think I know more people with over five major skills than those lacking such.” The technician was about to challenge this claim but then thought back to the company the prince was reported on keeping. Little was known about the prince, the little that was known was that he travelled in subpar conditions to work on weapons development in the fringe and outer reaches of civilisation. Now that he thought about it he was the least publicized member of the royal family despite him being the next king. Jason knew more about his two younger sisters then he did the Prince, and he had been living with him for almost a year. The technician re-reminded himself that he grew up surrounded by science sort and he knew from Doctor Stevensions muttering that he was very well known in the scientific community. “Did you ever take any cultural classes on Bladen Culture”

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“No, I grew up in it,” the prince said assuredly

“My prince, if I might be so bold... you did not grow up in… ‘normal’ Bladen culture, you grew up in Bladen scientist and naval culture. Most people don't have a single major skill under the belt….” then with a ting of shame creeping into his voice “I don’t have one, I only have two minor skills.”

The prince looked at him to see if he was lying.

“It's true my prince, it's unlikely that the pilots or any of the enlisted men have a major skill set. Most will only have minors one like small arms battle tactics, riflery, pistolry, and general trauma aid. I admit most officers have a major skill set but those are completed over years in groups with the aid from teachers and peers.

The prince squinted at the technician as if he was the butt of some prank, “I don’t understand, there free. Why would they not educate themselves?”

“It takes self-discipline, dedication, and... well you need to be smart. While it's true you have experience in blade culture it's a very specific niche. The people who you surround yourself with where the best the kingdom. They are not the status quo but the exceptional-” he halted his address as the prince took on a look of contemplation. Jack was stunned, relieved, and worried, ‘Does he really not know this’. It was relieving that the Prince was extremely well educated, it was worrying that someone so out of touch with his own people would be leading them; more so if he consorted with nude dinner kicking demons like Stevenson.

Reentry was uneventful, to Jason anyway. Ramius was calm until they hit the first sign of atmosphere than his face tensed in worry.

Jason noting the prince's concern gave him a reassuring smile and pressing his push to talk said “completely normal”

The worry lines on the Prince's face receded with the turbulence. Clear blue sky could now be seen where speckled black void had once been. He looked intently at that window and the technician could not blame him. Eight years was a long stint for any man, but for a child sent out to space as a punishment, or more properly exile, it was an eternity.

Green, trees, a field of grass, and then smooth tall bronze spires that scraped scars in the clouds, then another ship, not space-rated, with a bored looking occupant in a black suit.

‘Just another normal day here. Nothing special to anyone else but me.’ the thought came unbidden to the prince but acknowledged it as true. He felt both special that he was the only one who could feel this unique sensation. And a little lonely too. Perhaps there was a star that knew, somewhere out in space, that could feel his worry, excitement, fear, his wish to be bold, his wish to apologize, his wish to march up to his father and rant how it was not fair, that he didn't deserve exile.

The blurring city view slowed and eventually came to a stop, then rotated ninety degrees. “Thump”, and contact was made with the terminal. The door hissed open, “Welcome to Naval Base Myers Sir. Make sure not to touch the hull on your way out or your hand will be melted off” yell the pilot as he flicked switches. Ramius pressed the button at the centre of his harness and all the belts retreated. He straightened then walked out. Turning back he beckoned at the technician who soon followed.

“There are remote dollies under the vats. Pull them out of the side, have on the pilots help you. Take your time, there's no rush. When your done wait at least three hours. Make sure everyone knows to stay away from the vats but don’t tell anyone that it's under my authority until the second hour.”

“Why the second hour Sir?”

“Because at this time only you and a few officers I trust know I’m planetside. Once word gets out I won't be able to do anything personally as I’ll be bombarded by the court.” he looked longingly at the vats, “When the three hours are up put them back in the shuttle and fly to the Palace. I will send you the clearance codes, land in terminal B4. Those connect to my personal wing and quarters.”

“I follow Sir but if I might ask...” the prince nodded, “why take them out only to put them back in?”

“Everyone knows the conditions in which I was exiled. Everyone also knows the condition that I need meet before I can return.” the technician nodded in understanding. He needed rumours started about his weapon. “I see Sir… If I might make a suggestion, might I enlist some of the logistics personal around the base to… ehm... Help out”

The prince smiled at him, “Do as you see fit.”

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The prince left his children behind. For the first time since their growth, he would be leaving them. He knew they would be safe but still. As he walked away it was like the devotion and dedication to their development he invested stayed with them, leaving an empty pit inside of him. ‘It's not that dramatic. It isn't like their actual humans’, the halls were confusing but the paths were well indexed and he soon found what he was looking for.

Intercity Transportation was written in minimalist script on a drop down sign. He entered one of the autonomous cabs. He entered the two seated speeder. “Upper Hylian Court,” he said in a loud clear voice.

“Please scan your access code n-” he swiped the back of his right hand against a small protrusion on the door. “Upper Hylian Court, estimated time to destination two minutes and fifty-three seconds” the ride was both therapeutic and stimulating. The buildings hadn’t changed since his youth but he noticed things he did not at the time. Everything was more vivid, and… real. ‘It's like my memories where long-forgotten dreams only heard in stories, now I'm here, I'm back’.

The air traffic was light, probably because it was midday, and Three Hylian Courts came into view. The Three Hylian Courts was ironically a five tier structure and consisted of four courts.

The bottom-most tier was the fourth, unofficial, court. That of the lay people, it consisted the moderately wealthy and influential who had not bought a title.

The second tear encompassed the third court, knights, untitled officers, titled bureaucrats, and third, fourth, and fifth, children of the middle ranked court.

The third tier held the second court, and lower nobility, Barron's, Viscounts, Earls, and titled Knights and Officers. Then the fourth tier, the first court; consisting of the upper nobility, Dukes, Marquis, and senior-grade titled officers.

Then the fifth tier. The palace. Exclusive to the royal family. From the top, it looked like an eight-pointed star with turrets on each point. A central spire shot through the middle. Each point was a wing and was dedicated to a child of the ruling monarch. The central spire was dedicated to the ruling monarch.

A member of the court could, without notice, visit any of the lower tier courts, but could only access the higher tier courts by invitation. Being of the royal family Ramius had access to all courts and tiers.

The taxi approached one of the three pads and sat itself down. Unlike the lower tiers, there was an absence of traffic on the first court. The higher the court the fewer members and more exclusive it became. He stepped out without drama. Although the courts sometimes held balls and events the building itself was never empty. It was not only the bureaucratic centre of the kingdom but was where policy was written, laws made and enacted, and general political manoeuvring took place. It was always busy. If he wanted to introduce himself back into court life this is where he would have to start. Plus, the fact he didn't send word to both the Upper Court and even the Royal Palace would give him a running start to test the waters and send a social message at the same time, he was exiled… and still very, very, angry about it.