Rey ran across the glass greenhouse roof, her playsword hanging faithfully at her side. The rhythmic thump of its wooden blade against her thigh made her feel like she was running into battle... like the First Explorers running toward a host of Night-beings to conquer Argon in the name of humankind. Rey was old enough to know that there weren't really Night-beings on Argon's dark side, but still young enough to be entertained by pretending that they were.

It was an odd sensation, being on top of so much. Standing just above four feet tall, Rey was accustomed to looking up at most things. That was why she so enjoyed looking down at the white wooden trellises laden with their snaking vines and the orderly rows of nondescript green sprouts that she'd learned grew potatoes as roots. A combination of her speed and the thick glass roof beneath her feet made everything look blurry and distorted, but that only added to the experience. She was on top of the world - or her world, at least. The greenhouses were the only structures on Argon's surface. Most Argonese preferred to burrow deeper into the bowels of their planet rather than deal with its thin atmosphere, but not Rey. Her father had given her a breather of her own for her ninth birthday, despite her mother's vocal protests, and it had become her most prized possession. Armed with her plastic mask and backpack of oxygen, no place on Argon was out of her reach.

For a few hours, that was.

Rey gasped at the sight of a blinking red indicator light on her backpack's strap. Thanks to her frequent expeditions to the surface, she knew exactly what that meant: she had less than five minutes of oxygen remaining. She was supposed to have forty-five minutes left, but all her running had used up her air faster than expected, catching her entirely by surprise. After all, the relationship between exertion and oxygen consumption wasn't something she would learn about for years.

She looked over her shoulder in a panic, her heartbeat speeding up at the sight of the long row of greenhouses that separated her from the nearest SubT hatch. There was no way she could cover that distance in five minutes. But she had to get inside - now - or risk giving her mother a very good reason to take her breather away forever!

Rey whirled around helplessly even though she knew exactly what her surroundings consisted of - mountains and valleys of inhospitable, reddish Argon sand as far as the eye could see. Why couldn't her planet be more like Earth? She thought fondly of her summers on the homeworld, with its blue lakes and green trees and roads that you could run on forever without ever worrying about running out of air.

But she wasn't on Earth. She was on Argon, and her breather was the only thin shield between her and suffocation. She began to feel dizzy. Her eyes grew heavier in her head and her head itself felt like it was about to float away like a balloon. She wasn't sure whether she was just anxious or she was already beginning to experience the effects of hypoxia, but she didn't plan on sticking around to find out. As her legs began to shake, she fell to her knees to steady herself, her fingers curling around the corner of a skylight.

Now we're getting somewhere.

Rey unsheathed her sword and jammed the tip under the skylight's wooden border. She grabbed the hilt and pushed downward, trying to remember what her father had taught her about levers and force and maximizing one's torque.

One by one, the three latches popped and the skylight swung open. Success! Rey rolled onto her stomach and slid inside the greenhouse, wrapping her legs around the nearest trellis. As soon as she was steady, she removed her fingers from the skylight and let it close above her. She pulled off her breather mask, taking in a deep breath of filtered air, before beginning her steady climb down to the ground. Her mother liked to warn her that someday, she'd get too big to go climbing in the greenhouses. Luckily for her, today was not that day.

The greenhouses were typically deserted during the day. The industrious colony of Argon prided itself on the lowest unemployment rate in the galaxy - no one had the time for a leisurely stroll in nature at 1100 Earth hours. That would work to Rey's advantage. Perhaps, she thought as she hurried through the small, sandy aisle between two tall rows of trellises, she could even get back to King's Square without being seen.

That hope, unfortunately for Rey, was premature. Hearing the telltale crunch of boots on gravel, she slipped between trellises and watched from her secretive perch as a stout woman in an engineer's jumpsuit pointed to a trellis a few rows down.

"This is the one. Although, with all due respect, Your Majesty needn't have inconvenienced yourself with a trip to the surface. I've forwarded all relevant records to the Agricultural Ministry as requested."

"I thank you for being proactive, but it is old Montanlast wisdom that you cannot solve a problem without first putting your eyes on it." A well-proportioned man whose age was only betrayed by his graying hair stepped out from behind the woman and knelt in front of the trellis, running his fingers across a tomato leaf as the woman looked on in bewilderment.

Rey turned away for a moment in shock, her heart rising up into her throat. Why was her father here? What business could the King of Argon possibly have in one of the thousands of greenhouses he controlled? And yet, as it often did, Rey's curiosity outweighed her fear and she found herself peeking back across the aisle.

"They appear overwatered." The king concluded as he stood up, letting the yellowing leaf slip through his fingers. "Who handles climate control for your sector?"

"Ah yes, that's..." the woman's face turned red as a beet as her lips moved silently in an effort to stitch together an excuse.

"Speak. You have nothing to fear from me." There was no threat in the king's voice, but it was nevertheless quite clear that he was to be obeyed.

"Actually, we... don't employ human agricultural scientists anymore. We have a contract with the new Xenon Technologies total climate system, and it was working perfectly until this week."

"Until this week," the king echoed. The woman was silent.

"I am not against technology," the king clarified. "Our life on this planet would be impossible without it. And yet, we must not allow ourselves to be blinded by it."

"As the Xenonese are." The woman nodded in understanding.

"The Xenonese live differently than we do," the king countered diplomatically. Truer words had never been spoken. Rey remembered her first visit to High Borin Hall - the gowns of flowing silk, the artwork that studded the walls, and the royal children's matching ruby coronets had been nearly enough to blind her simple Argonese eyes.

I want a crown, too! She'd whined loudly to her parents. Am I not a princess like Azura Borin?

"A crown does not make a princess," came her mother's infuriating reply. The queen had done nothing to address the question that inevitably followed - if a crown doesn't make a princess, then what does?

"I am sure your agricultural scientists will be thrilled to have their jobs back." The king's voice drew Rey back to the present.

"Of course, Your Majesty." The woman dipped her head. Just when Rey was certain they would head back the way they had come, clearing the aisle for her, they were joined by a heavyset man in the gray-blue uniform of Argon's Planetary Security Force.

"Ryndar." The king smiled as his Head of Security slowed his jog, stopping in front of him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You deviated from your schedule, so I tracked your comm signature. I had to ensure your safety." There was a certain heavy seriousness in Ryndar Gorwin's eyes. Rey remembered hearing that he'd once fought in a war - and lost - but she found that difficult to believe. Gorwin was her sword-fighting teacher, and with the way he fought, it was hard to fathom him losing anything.

"Well, you've ensured it. As you can see, all four of my limbs are still quite attached to my body." The king raised his arms in demonstration. Ryndar did not return his smile.

"I... should get back to my office before my supervisor misses me." The woman bowed awkwardly before all-but scampering out of the greenhouse. She understandably did not want to be around for a confrontation between two of the most powerful men on Argon. Even Rey felt herself getting a little nervous, though she couldn't put her finger on exactly why.

"This is no time for jokes, Edwyn. The Xenonese are mobilizing their autoregiments to the Jutsun border-"

"A reasonable precaution against asteroid raiders," the king shrugged. "You need only ask your men to learn that they have become a great nuisance lately."

A look of incredible frustration etched itself into Gorwin's brow, as if they'd had this conversation many times before but had never managed to get any further than this. "The nuisance, my king, is your unwillingness to see what King Renzar has made quite plain."

"What would you have me do?"

"You know exactly what."

Rey did not understand her father's friendship with Gorwin. They agreed on nothing and argued constantly, yet always made up with equal fervor.

"I know that you itch to be a general again, my friend, and you would be, if I only had an army for you to command. But Argon is the first and only galactic superpower without a formal military - we have redefined what it means for a nation to be powerful, and I will not risk that for anyone's speculation. Even yours."

"I have sat at many tables across from many men - none quite as concerning as Renzar Borin," Ryndar said darkly.

"Renzar contributes half the United Colonies' humanitarian budget." The king regarded Ryndar with genuine confusion. "He is beloved by all."

"To be beloved by all is impossible for an honest man. He is lying to someone - us, the World Government, or both." Gorwin hesitated for a moment and something foreign seemed to make its way through the old soldier's steely exterior, softening the corners of his eyes... something edging toward vulnerability. "I can't lose another king, Edwyn. I won't."

"There it is. Finally, the truth behind your warmongering." The king's tone remained as perfectly neutral as his crisp gray outfit, betraying nothing. "You rightly seek redemption, but you shall not buy it with the blood of my people."

"Redemption!? Gorwin's eyes flew open with fury and for the first time ever, Rey saw the face of the man who had once commanded the Chancellor's Glory. "I know you believe me to be too aggressive, but I did not think you also found me so terribly self-centered. Are you truly unable to fathom that I am acting in Argon's best interest, or have you grown to be stupid as well as blind?"

"How dare you speak that way to your king?" Edwyn seemed to grow several inches taller as he stepped closer to Gorwin.

"Mm," Gorwin chuckled. "So now the peaceful King Edwyn, best friend of all the galaxy, wants to act tough?"

Rey had seen Gorwin and her father fight many times before, but this was different. She couldn't help but feel that their differences had reached a tipping point - like today, one of their ideologies had to prevail. Both men's hands seemed to inch towards their swords and Rey held her breath, hoping she was wrong.

"Peace is not weakness." Edwyn Montanlast drew Greythorn, the gleaming longsword that hung at his side. His respect for the blade was evident in the way he held it - it was the sword wielded by Argonese kings since the time of the First Explorers, the first weapon ever forged from Krypton steel.

"Ignorance is not strength." Gorwin did not hesitate to draw his own blade. Its lack of historical significance and plain design were more than made up for by its wielder's prowess. After that moment, all Rey could make out were flashes of silver as the swords moved through the air much faster than she thought possible. With each clash and scrape, she prayed they would stop, but they wouldn't. Oh, why wouldn't they stop!

"Stop!" Rey screamed. She ran out from her hiding place, drawing her own sword...

Rey's sword arced in front of her, sweeping to her side and ending with a jab as she ran through the drill one more time. Gorwin would say I'm still too slow, some hidden part of her remarked, motivating her to start back over from the beginning of the sequence.

It was funny how that worked. She didn't remember any of his actual teachings, but she remembered his disdain. It motivated her to keep pushing, to keep remembering. Every day she was away was a day that Argon strayed further from the peace her father believed in. A day that Gorwin's worst fears rang true.

She wondered what happened that day in the greenhouse, though some part of her knew she'd never find out. She'd discovered that her brain had an infuriating way of showing her all but the most important parts of her memories, leaving her with more questions than answers. As she performed two forward slices in rapid succession, she felt her sword slip out of her hand, its grip slick with sweat.

She had been doing this longer than she thought. If she stayed any longer, Ten would come around to ask her if she'd eaten. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of mothering her.

Rey reluctantly hung her sword up on the wall, her fingers lingering on its grip for a moment before she walked out of the room to find Ten.

"Finding" Ten wasn't nearly as hard as it sounded. Since his cameras' impossible discovery, he'd practically been living in his lab, pumping out theory after theory about the identity of their food thief. He'd proposed everything from wormholes to organic matter-energy conversion to a secret Xenonese weapons program, but none of his ideas stood up to scrutiny. When she entered the room, Rey found Ten hunched over a mug of coffee with several earlier mugs spread out in front of him as he hastily scrawled all over his desk with an airpencil.

"What do you know about Ryndar Gorwin?"

"Good morning to you, too, princess." Ten grumbled sleepily, not bothering to look up from his work.

"Morning," Rey rolled her eyes. "Gorwin?"

"Why are you so interested in the General all of a sudden?" Ten swung around in his rolling chair. "The man's almost as crazy as Aranzar. Although I have to say, he's probably the only reason Xenon hasn't won yet... no offense."

"The General," Rey nodded. "So my father let him raise his army."

"Well, not exactly..." Ten faltered. Rey could tell she was making him uncomfortable, so she changed the subject. They had both learned that there was no room for awkwardness when you were in danger in a Module built for two.

"How's it going?"

"It makes even less sense than before, if that's even possible." Ten pressed his hands to his his head as if to massage the solution out of his brain. "All this math has done is prove just how impossible what we saw is. It feels like I haven't left the lab in days, but I'm not any closer to a solution."

He hadn't left the lab in days...

"You have an idea, don't you?" Ten looked up at her hopefully. "You look like you have an idea."

"You can't solve a problem without first putting your eyes on it." Rey walked enthusiastically to the door before glancing over her shoulder. "You coming or not?"