A wave of applause exploded instantly.
The hall, packed to capacity, was an ocean of familiar and unfamiliar faces: Terrans, Xi, and even other extraterrestrials in pressurized suits, all gathered to express their gratitude and admiration.
For a moment, she stood frozen, overwhelmed by emotion, surprised by the warmth and sincerity of the welcome. Then, instinctively, she searched for Alan.
She spotted him quickly, standing slightly apart, watching her with that look she knew so well: the look of a man deeply proud and profoundly in love.
Greeting the crowd with dignity and a genuine smile, Jennel made her way through the congratulations toward Alan, standing tall and unmoving, as if waiting for the entire world to disappear so he could see only her.
"Good day, Mister President," she said in a mock-official tone, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Well done, Madam," he replied, his smile tender.
She took a step closer, her voice softening though her gaze still sparkled with humor.
"I follow your lead, Admiral."
He inclined his head slightly, leaning in toward her.
"I love you," he murmured, without restraint.
Jennel gave him a mock-disapproving look, playing along with the protocol.
"Mister President, such a lack of decorum is unacceptable."
They burst into laughter, ignoring the knowing looks exchanged around them, before slipping away discreetly to their private quarters.
Once the door closed behind them, the comfortable silence of their temporary home enveloped them.
Alan approached slowly, his eyes searching hers, until they were close enough to feel each other’s warmth.
"Do you remember our visit to the Certosa di Pavia?" he asked suddenly.
Jennel frowned slightly, retracing the memory.
"That old monastery… You mean the visit that made us both uneasy, without knowing why?"
Alan nodded.
"Yes. That unease, it might have been… a sign. I told you back then that you would make a wonderful mother."
She remained silent for a moment, feeling her heartbeat quicken.
Then, gently, he took her hands in his, caressing them with infinite tenderness.
"Today, I want to ask you… Do you want to have a child with me?"
The question, simple yet heavy with meaning, sent a surge of emotion through Jennel.
Her throat tightened, and in a small, trembling voice, she asked:
"Is… is it even possible?"
Alan let the moment stretch, choosing his words carefully. Then, softly, he caressed her cheek, his gaze never leaving hers.
"Yes."
He paused, allowing the weight of his answer to settle.
"With slightly modified Arwian technology and the use of an artificial matrix, the results are more than promising."
She stared at him, holding her breath.
"Two Survivors can… have children," he finished with a gentle smile.
A radiant light blossomed in Jennel’s eyes—a pure, unfiltered spark of joy and hope.
Her face lit up with an intensity unlike anything Alan had ever seen.
"I’m going to have a child…" she whispered, as if still trying to believe it.
Alan squeezed her hands, resting his forehead against hers.
"We’re going to be parents."
A suspended moment, outside of time, wrapped around them.
Jennel nestled into his arms, pressing herself against him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He felt her warm breath against his neck, and then, in a teasing whisper that made him smile:
"Too bad we’re not using the old-fashioned method… especially the beginning."
Alan laughed, a deep and genuine sound, holding her a little tighter.
"We can always pretend."
The blue planet now filled the entire holographic display at the front of the flagship’s bridge.
The breathtaking view remained untouched by distortion, offering its observers a pure and deeply moving sight.
Cotton-like clouds drifted over vast oceans, familiar continents stretched out in shades of brown, though the green was sorrowfully absent, scarred by imposing mountain chains.
In the almost sacred silence of the command deck, two figures stood at the center, their emotions palpable.
Alan de Sol, President of the Confederation of Planets, stood straight, his hands firmly resting on the metallic edge of the navigation console.
Beside him, Jennel de Sol, Chief Diplomat of the Confederation, stood with her arms crossed, her eyes glistening as they remained locked on their homeworld.
"We’re here," Alan murmured, barely audible.
Jennel simply nodded, unable to speak past the overwhelming emotion swelling in her chest.
Three Confederation ships, bearing the proudly displayed emblem of the "S", had just emerged from hyper-quantum transfer near Earth.
The operation had required greater technological effort than anticipated: retrieving the planet’s exact coordinates from the Gull memory banks.
The ships slowed their approach, gradually reducing speed as they entered low orbit.
Slowly, majestically, they descended into Earth’s atmosphere.
Friction ignited a soft orange glow around the silver hulls before the descent stabilized.
Their destination: Northern Turkey.
Alan, his emotions hidden behind a calm exterior, activated the communication system.
"Léa."
A second passed, then a soft voice, tinged with the faintest synthetic undertone, responded.
"I greet you, Commander… "
A brief pause. A nearly imperceptible adjustment in her tone, dictated by the ship’s AI.
"Excuse me. Welcome, Mister President."
Alan smirked slightly, recognizing the weight of old habits in that small slip.
"How do you assess the situation on the planet?"
"I am 88% satisfied, Mister President."
Jennel, stepping closer to the screen, directed her voice toward the comms.
"Léa, is Imre nearby?"
A moment later, Léa’s voice returned, this time slightly more formal.
"I am notifying Commander Imre of your arrival immediately, Madam."
Alan and Jennel exchanged a knowing glance. The subtle emphasis on "Madam" did not go unnoticed: a discreet sign of programmed respect.
The arrival of three Terran cruisers above the majestic Ka?kar Mountains triggered a wave of shock and excitement among the Survivors of the Base.
The sudden appearance of these massive metallic silhouettes, gleaming under the sun’s rays, seemed unreal after years of isolation and silent struggle.
Léa, ever the calm voice of the Base’s AI, immediately reassured the inhabitants.
"Stay calm. These ships are allies. Prepare to welcome those who have freed us."
Alan requested a live broadcast of their landing, projected onto giant holograms in every survivor settlement across the planet.
The spectacle was grand, and the emotion overwhelming.
As Alan and Jennel’s shuttle touched down with pinpoint precision, a cloud of silver dust rose, momentarily obscuring the figures who emerged.
Imre, breathless from his hurried approach, hesitated.
The emotion was too much.
"I don’t even know how I’m supposed to greet you…"
That simple statement shattered the intensity of the moment, replacing it with shared laughter.
Alan, ever one for humor, responded warmly:
"She’s Jennel. I’m Alan."
A rare smile lit Imre’s face. The smile of a man who had finally seen hope become reality.
Then, looking at Alan, he quipped:
"Maybe you should say a few words, just so we know what’s happening."
Alan stepped onto an improvised platform, his deep voice carrying across the valleys.
"I’ll keep this short."
Murmurs died down. The world held its breath.
"The Gulls have been wiped out."
Silence. Stone-cold silence.
"The nanites can now be deactivated."
Gasps of hope.
"It is now possible, with a small technological adjustment, to have children."
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
A murmur of wonder swept through the ranks of the survivors, some even breaking into silent sobs.
"And we have allies who can help rebuild our world."
Alan paused for a moment, allowing the emotions to spread through the crowd.
Then, with a wink at Imre, he concluded:
"After that, you have my permission to celebrate… with the blessing of our favorite Commander."
Imre, eyes shining, raised his arms to the sky.
"Let the celebration begin!"
A thunderous cheer erupted, not only in the Turkish mountains but all across Earth.
The survivors, the builders of tomorrow, gathered in an immense chorus of shouts and laughter. Bonfires were lit, the first strains of music filled the air, and for the first time in years, the night was illuminated by something other than fear: hope.
Alan, his arms draped around Jennel’s shoulders, gazed at her tenderly.
"We did it."
Jennel, moved, responded softly:
"No. They did it."
And for the first time, under the star-filled sky of a finally free Earth, humanity felt at home.
Ran Dal presented herself at the offices of the Confederation’s Diplomatic Corps.
She requested an audience with Jennel de Sol, uncertain of what to expect, or even why this meeting suddenly seemed so necessary.
Five minutes later, Jennel appeared in person.
She carried that subtle blend of grace and confidence that had left a lasting impression across the Imperium and the Confederation alike.
She welcomed Ran Dal with a warm smile.
"You don’t need to request an appointment, Ran Dal. My door is always open to you."
She extended her hand, a simple yet sincere gesture.
"You were the first Arwian to meet me, and I was the first Terran to meet you. Today, we are neither soldiers nor diplomats. Just Ran Dal and Jennel, two friends bound by a moment in history."
Ran Dal felt some of her tension ease, though her expression remained serious.
She hesitated before sitting down, searching for the right words.
"I’ve thought about this for a long time before coming… I was afraid that my reason for visiting might seem… trivial, even insignificant."
Jennel leaned back slightly in her chair, her eyes focused and attentive.
"If you’re here, then your reason matters."
The invitation to speak was clear.
After a brief silence, Ran Dal took a deep breath.
"Before our first contact, I traveled to a planet forgotten by almost all of the Imperium: the Hermit Planet, Ieya. A world few of our scholars dare to study anymore, shrouded in mystery."
Jennel raised an intrigued eyebrow.
"Ieya… I’ve heard that name before. Some of the Xi have told me legends about it."
Ran Dal leaned forward slightly, her voice taking on a deeper tone.
"The strangest thing, Jennel… is what I discovered there.
In some of the oldest texts about Ieya, one particular term kept appearing; a term even our AIs struggled to translate, as it seemed entirely disconnected from any known Arwian linguistic roots."
She paused, then slowly pronounced the word:
"Sol."
Jennel’s heart skipped a beat.
"Sol?" she repeated, eyes widening. "Like the name of my homeworld…?"
Ran Dal nodded slowly.
"Exactly."
She straightened slightly.
"There was an ancient contact, Jennel. Far older than this war, or even our civilizations as we know them today. And on that planet, I received help… without ever seeing who or what gave it to me. Help that came from something or someone."
Jennel remained silent for a moment, absorbing the gravity of the revelation.
"Do you believe this connection is real?" she finally asked.
Ran Dal’s voice was low but unwavering.
"I do."
"And if this connection exists… then maybe the key to our worlds' survival was written long before us."
Jennel, deeply moved, stood up and placed a hand on Ran Dal’s shoulder.
"Then we will find that connection."
And she thought:
"Sol was never the name of Earth, perhaps the Sun, at most. Alan only started using that name a few weeks ago…"
Jennel sent a brief message to Alan, who was still on a diplomatic mission to the Xi homeworld.
A single sentence, heavy with meaning:
"I’m leaving with Ran Dal. Destination: Ieya."
She knew he would understand its importance. Their bond was such that no further explanation was needed.
Aboard Ran Dal’s light-class ship, the two women began their silent journey toward the enigmatic world of Ieya.
During the voyage, Ran Dal shared every detail of her past encounters with the planet, describing her first attempts at contact between Arw and Sol.
"This was no ordinary mission, Jennel," Ran Dal explained.
"I had a feeling… as if someone or something was waiting for me there. And I believe they heard my call."
Jennel listened without interrupting, committing every word to memory.
The link between Sol and Ieya seemed far more profound than mere coincidence.
In orbit above the desolate planet, Jennel prepared for descent.
She chose to go alone in the landing pod, leaving Ran Dal in orbit.
This time, she landed closer to the stone towers, avoiding the grueling trek Ran Dal had endured during her previous visit.
She touched down at dawn, hoping to evade the planet’s crippling nighttime cold.
The cyclopean towers loomed before her. Austere, almost oppressive.
Jennel approached cautiously, her footsteps echoing on the dusty ground in the absolute silence.
She waited for a long time, circling the strange structures with patience.
Time stretched endlessly.
An hour passed without a single sign of movement.
"Why am I here?" she wondered, exhausted.
"What am I supposed to find?"
Then, suddenly, a voice whispered faintly in her mind.
A cold presence brushed against her consciousness, as if the void itself had spoken to her.
"That is the question, Lady Jennel."
Her heart pounded, but she forced her mind to remain calm.
They were here.
Jennel formed her question carefully.
"I have come to clarify the connection between Sol and this planet."
The voice responded. Ethereal, carried by a cosmic wind:
"There is none."
The shock nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.
But she pressed on.
"But you helped Ran Dal when she spoke of Sol."
"We did nothing."
Jennel felt frustration creeping in, but she refused to waver.
"And the coordinates you left her?"
"We did nothing."
"Then who did?"
A heavy silence stretched before the response fell: a cryptic blade cutting through her thoughts:
"Impossible to answer at this time."
Jennel’s confusion deepened.
She clenched her fists, refusing to back down.
"Why do the records link Ieya to Sol?"
"Misinterpretation."
"Then what is the correct interpretation?"
And finally, the answer, as chilling as it was unexpected:
"The past connects Ieya to Lady Jennel de Sol."
A shiver ran down Jennel’s spine.
She staggered back, stunned.
"Me? How…?"
But the voice had vanished.
Jennel tried other questions, but the silence remained absolute.
The Thinkers had withdrawn, leaving behind an enigma far deeper than what she had expected.
The link between Ieya and Sol was not one between two planets, but between her own destiny.
The return journey from Ieya was quiet, punctuated only by pensive glances between Jennel and Ran Dal.
Each was lost in her own thoughts, haunted by the enigmatic words of the Hermits.
"Why me?" Jennel repeated, the voice still echoing in her mind.
"The past connects Ieya to Lady Jennel de Sol…"
Ran Dal, for her part, sensed that this link concealed something deeper—a mystery that eluded even the oldest archives of Arw.
But every attempt at interpretation hit a wall of uncertainty.
Two days later, as soon as Alan set foot inside the Complex, Jennel could no longer hold back what was weighing on her heart.
As soon as they were alone, she told him everything, every detail of her experience on Ieya:
-
The ambiguous responses of the Thinkers.
-
The things left unsaid.
-
And, most of all, the personal mystery that seemed to tie her to the planet.
Alan listened in silence, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
When she finished, he remained deep in thought for a moment before exhaling:
"This isn’t the first time we’ve faced questions without answers."
Jennel lowered her gaze, but Alan gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"We’ve survived the Wave, fought an interstellar war, freed entire worlds… There will always be mysteries beyond our reach. But…"
He paused, carefully choosing his words.
"Does this have to define our future?"
Jennel remained silent.
Alan stepped closer, his gaze burning with the determination she knew so well.
"What we’ve built here, Jennel, it’s not just a political or military victory. It’s a chance to live. For real. Like we always wanted."
For days, Jennel pondered his words.
She had spent so much time chasing answers that she had forgotten what truly mattered:
-
The rebirth of Earth.
-
The peace they had fought for.
-
Their child on the way.
-
The chance to live without constantly searching for the unknown.
Finally, one evening, as they sat together gazing at the stars, Jennel broke the silence:
"You’re right."
Alan turned to her, surprised.
"I choose this life. A real life. With you, on Earth."
A sincere, peaceful smile spread across his face.
He gently squeezed her hand.
"Then let’s forget the whims of fate. Let’s focus on what we have."
Jennel nodded.
For the first time in a long while, she felt at peace. Letting unanswered questions remain where they belonged.
The future wasn’t in the mysteries of the past, but in the simple moments, in the smiles exchanged, in the promise of a normal life to build together.
Alan’s atmospheric shuttle glided silently onto the landing platform behind their villa.
The sleek, streamlined craft settled gently on the elevated terrace overlooking the sea.
This wasn’t the makeshift shelter of a reconstruction mission. It was a sanctuary, built in harmony with the land, where life was slowly returning.
The final ecological studies for reintroducing native flora were ongoing. Alan had followed their progress closely, but today, his thoughts were elsewhere.
He powered down the shuttle’s controls absentmindedly, momentarily distracted by the sound of waves crashing below.
A light breeze, carrying the salty scent of the ocean, brushed against his face.
He took a deep breath before heading toward the house.
As he entered, an unusual silence greeted him.
His eyes swept across the sunlit living room.
Jennel was nowhere in sight.
Her soft, familiar voice didn’t call out to him.
A quiet tension coiled in his chest.
"Where is she?"
Then, a detail stopped him cold.
In the corner of the room, the artificial incubation matrix (meticulously monitored for weeks) was open.
His heart pounded violently.
"No… not already…"
Without thinking, he took the stairs two at a time, his breath quickening as he rushed to the upper floor.
Reaching the bedroom doorway, he froze.
On the bed, Jennel was half-sitting, nestled in plush cushions.
The soft afternoon light bathed her face, illuminating a radiant serenity in her gaze.
Against her chest, nestled peacefully, rested a tiny newborn, its delicate fingers curled into a tiny fist.
Alan’s frantic movements came to an abrupt halt.
Jennel lifted her eyes to meet his.
And then. That smile.
A smile he had never seen before: softer, deeper, filled with a new kind of peace.
"Here’s your papa," she whispered, her voice brushing against the moment like silk.
Alan felt his throat tighten, unable to speak.
Every battle, every weighty decision, every sacrifice had led to this moment. Where destiny no longer burdened his shoulders.
He took slow, measured steps forward, eyes glistening with emotion.
Jennel gently guided his hand to the warm, fragile back of their child.
The instant his fingers touched the newborn, a shiver ran through him: a wave of pure, raw love, powerful and unconditional.
"We won," Alan finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"For her. For us."
Jennel nodded slowly, her eyes shining.
"This is only the beginning, Alan."
Outside, the wind carried the scent of a world in rebirth.
And in this sunlit room, a new future was taking shape.
Not for empires, but for a family.
TO BE CONTINUED...