"Axteryx Spaceport Control, requesting permission to land." Oberon handled the little star-taxi as if he'd been flying one for years instead of a week.

The reply came from the space port as an invitation to give the inbound craft's registration number, since Oberon had neglected to do so beforehand and had disabled the program that sent it automatically with each transmission. Oberon recited his personal number, one that Grastian had made him recite every night, five times before bed, until he'd had it memorized. His sister smiled her approval.

After a few tense moments, a different voice came over the radio. "Please re-state your registration number."

Recognizing the voice, Grastian took the headset from her brother. "It's been too long, Chancellor Draco. This is Princess Grastian Leone and that really was Prince Oberon's personal number. Shall I recite my own for you as well?"

"Princess Grastian! Please dock in your usual space, Your Highness!" The voice was warm and friendly but Grastian heard none of the pleased surprise she'd expected.

She covered the microphone and looked at her brothers. "Got your guns loaded, Boys?" They both nodded. "Good, we're going to need them. Oberon, my usual spot is number four because it was the easiest one to park in when I was first learning to fly the Aileron. His telling me to park there was a test."

"Grace?" Oberon said nervously as he parked the little taxi, "I don't remember how to get from the docks to the palace. Do you remember?"

Grastian smiled at him, reassuring him. "Oberon, I remember it like the back of my own hand. We've spent the last six years learning to fight. Don't worry, we can handle this." The young man nodded and concentrated on landing the little craft, piloting it to where Grastian told him to land.

As they exited the taxi, an older man met them on the dock, dressed in elegant clothing and flanked by palace guards. "Chancellor," Princess Grastian smiled, holding out her hand to him as if she were dressed in her own, fine robes instead of filthy, desert slave garb that she'd managed to shake only most of the dust from. "I'm so sorry we're late coming back from school. We were held up."

Behind her, the twins snickered at her understatement, letting their weapons be seen with careless ease. They were each armed with a gun, knife and sword taken from the compound on Styxe. Grastian was armed with a knife and gun as well.

She dropped her hand to the butt of her gun, eyeing the guards for any hint of animosity. The guards stood at the ready, eyeing the newcomers with cautious expressions as they waited for orders.  Though relieved when they didn't offer any response, Grastian didn't recognize them and was disappointed.

"Princess Grastian," the chancellor responded, smiling with genuine warmth. "We are so relieved you three are safe."

He held up his hand and spoke into a small radio attached to his wrist. Grastian knew that her father wore a similar one and that the two men were the only two to have them. "Your Majesties, the children have returned." When he'd dropped his hand, he smiled apologetically at the young, royal offspring. "I had to be sure it was you. There have been so many impostors over the years."

"I'm sure," Orion agreed as he and his brother came to flank their sister. "I am Prince Orion, Chancellor." Orion's speech was stilted, his native tongue heavily accented from years of neglect. Belatedly, Grastian wished she'd practiced it more with her brothers.

The chancellor didn't seem to know what to make of the two strapping princes that flanked the princess. They'd left as small children and returned warriors. Knowing his dilemma, Prince Oberon grinned. "Not as short and skinny as when we left for school six years ago, are we, Chancellor Drake-Old?"

The chancellor threw his head back and laughed, seeming relieved by the disrespectful pet name the boys had once had for him, even if their speech was heavily accented. "No, you are not, Prince Oberon. Come, your royal father is waiting."

Princess Grastian and the twin princes followed the chancellor into a private vehicle, eyeing their surrounds with a natural wariness born of a militant life. "Such weapons, Princess," chided the chancellor, interrupting her careful study of her surroundings as they rode toward the palace. "Did you really fear attack as soon as you'd landed?"

"Not really 'fear' attack, as much as that we're ready for it," replied Grastian easily. "We've spent the last six years learning to fight, among other things."

Prince Orion spoke up. "What were we to think, Chancellor? We were drugged during our flight home and woke up three galaxies off-course. The ship had been drained of fuel, batteries nearly dead and there was blood in the hangar. Since we don't know who was to blame, we must take every precaution."

He looked at even the chancellor with caution, showing none of the affection that Grace had for the older man who'd been a wise uncle to her for most of her life. Grastian wasn't upset. To her mischievous, often impudent, spoiled little brothers, the chancellor had been a stern discipline figure.

They hadn't yet begun to appreciate his wise, uncle- ish attitude toward them before their misadventure. Silently, she asked God to remedy the relationships as she smiled her praise for Orion's discreet summary of their misadventures.

"And you have grown much wiser in the interim!" declared the chancellor, not seeming offended by the twins' standoffish attitude. "But come, surely your father will wish to hear your story first?" To the siblings' corporate relief, the ride to the palace was uneventful. 

The vehicle arrived at the palace and the group went inside, accompanied by the guards. Just inside the door, a richly dressed couple stood waiting, both with generous amounts of silver in their hair. Grastian smiled, recognizing her parents despite the toll that grief and worry had taken on them.

"Grastian!" the woman cried as she ran to take her daughter in her arms, "Oh, my dear Grastian, thank God you're alright!"

"Can this really be Oberon and Orion?" questioned the king in amazement at the same time, staring at the young men before him.

"Yes, Father," the twins chorused, laughing. "You asked that when we came back from the first term of school!" Prince Orion reminded him.

"The second term lasted for six years but we sure learned a good deal more than the first," added Prince Oberon, making light of their adventures. The king fell on his sons, kissing their hair and holding them tightly before trading places with his wife.

"Come on into the parlor," suggested Queen Spica when she'd recovered herself. "I want to hear everything!"

At the end of the tale, the king regarded his daughter with respect. "I owe you everything, Grace," he said quietly. "For six years, you've sheltered your brothers, taught them as best you could and then brought them home as soon as you were sure they could protect themselves. Truly, you could be king, if you wanted to!"

Princess Grastian laughed as she finished her last bite of the refreshments that had been served. Throughout the light meal, she'd done her best to remember courtly table manners and to remind her brothers of the same, since they lacked a bit of the polish that would be expected of the king's own children. "But Father, I don't want to be king!" she reminded him as if they'd discussed it only recently.

"I will, however, be content with one little planet, under my brothers." She shared a teasing grin with her family before sobering again. "There is one thing I would ask you, however, Father; if you would be willing?"

The king took his wife's hand and nodded. "Ask away, Grace!" the queen answered for her husband. "If it is in our power, we will do it."

"The holdings where we were slaves still has over two hundred people in slavery. I want to free them, all of them." At her brothers' frowns, she hastened to add, "I have been thinking about this since we left Styxe and I have a plan started but I need your input to make it happen."

Princess Grastian looked at her brothers. She could see that she didn't have their support. Disappointed that they weren't lining up behind her as she'd expected, she was still determined to have her say.

Orion shook his head. "We need to concentrate on what lays ahead for us, not the past. If you give much thought to the slaves on Styxe, then the court will accuse you of weakness."

"And it would be an act of war to take them by force," Oberon agreed. "I doubt Father's council will look favorably on war with a planet lying galaxies away, with nothing to offer for the conquering but more people to feed. The entire planet is mere steps from self-annihilation, as badly as they've mismanaged their resources."

He turned his attention to his parents. "Father, the only truly decent ground on the planet belongs to the master. He seems to be the only master on the planet with a decent grasp of sustainable agriculture."

Afraid their skepticism would influence the king, Grace hastened to explain. "Father, they spend their whole lives in fear of slave traders, subjecting themselves to one master or another. Every time they trade masters, they are forced to make a new life entirely, leaving their spouses and children behind and having no other choice but to do so. That's no way to live. These people protected us when we were most vulnerable. They taught us to fight, to survive. I find it reprehensible to merely take up a life of ease and comfort while they must remain in such conditions. I doubt God would want us to abandon them, either."

Gradually, both brothers began to nod. They'd both had friends that had been kidnapped by slave dealers, had seen the aftermath when a friend's loved one had been kidnapped or killed. Though their faith wasn't as strong as Grastian's, the twins prayed for the master and his holdings regularly.

"I guess it would help them learn about Jesus," Oberon finally assented.

His sister nodded. "And Regula III needs settlers like them, who know how to reclaim ruined land like they do. Not only that but the outpost needs warriors like them to keep the pirates at bay."

Emboldened by the king's grin despite her brothers' twin expressions of confusion, Princess Grastian unfolded her plan for the respective people and planet in question. After she had finished speaking, Princess Grastian turned to the twins.

"I cannot believe you two forgot my lessons on Regula III! I told you about how Father has a hard time keeping order there. It's on the outer reaches of the kingdom, so smuggling and piracy can be a problem. Not only that, the climate is rather like the one on Styxe, right down to the environmental decay?" She arched a brow, her expression one of a tutor having caught her charges in some lapse and was reminding them of a basic set of information.

Twin expressions of confusion turned sheepish. "I remember now," admitted Prince Oberon. "We went over that last winter. You asked us to think of possible solutions and we spent two nights discussing them."

"But now it seems you already have one," laughed their father. "I shall have to examine both of you to see where your education is lacking." When they started to look mutinous, the king laughed again. "Tutors, Boys! You shall have tutors from now on. God forbid we lose you again!"

"I, for one, have no intention of allowing you out of my sight for more than a few hours," agreed the queen. "I sent you to school for two short terms and six years later, you are all grown up without me!" Her melancholy lament shot through Grastian's heart, seeing the toll on her parents afresh, that the siblings' absence had caused.

"But there is much to be done before we can return to Styxe," Princess Grastian pointed out, carefully hiding her own emotions. "Not the least of which is our lack of grooming.

"Father, my duel must be with traditional weapons and blood must be spilled. The law on Styxe requires a fight to the death, which means the heart has stopped. I want to practice sparring with the palace guard to be sure it will not be my heart which stops."

The queen winced but the king only nodded; his grin indefatigable. "Of course, you may Dear, but first you must rest," Queen Spica said firmly, obviously hoping to change the subject. Belatedly, Princess Grastian recognized that her mother would not want to even consider the possibility of losing her only daughter on the same day Grastian had returned.

"With all due respect, first we must be bathed and groomed," corrected Princess Grastian with a grin. "The boys' hair needs cutting terribly and we have not had a proper soak in six years, Mother!" She winked and grinned to show that she understood.

"I assume you remember the way?" laughed her father while her mother shuddered theatrically at the thought of such lack in her children's hygiene. The royal couple stood to dismiss their children.

"Of course! Come on, Boys, do you remember where your rooms are?" Princess Grastian laughed when the twins stood up, nodding down at their older sister. "Race you!"

She took off running. The twins followed and soon overtook their sister, laughing as they scooped her up between them playfully. Grastian shrieked and struggled only a little, laughing along with her brothers' antics.

The king watched his grown children play, shaking his head, and offered a hand to his wife. "It is a miracle," she whispered tearfully as the king enfolded her in a hug. "Grastian is a beautiful woman under all that dirt . . . And my little boys have grown up into handsome young men! God has been so good to us this day."

"Almost grown," agreed the king as he embraced his wife. "But did you see how well they minded their sister? Their attitudes have improved considerably from what they were. God has always been in control, My Love. Perhaps this has been His plan all along? She has done well with them to teach such respect and manners as they have now."

"Well enough to deserve that deserted little planet she's always wanted," agreed the queen ruefully. "She studied conservation and agriculture her last term. I hope she remembers what she learned."

"If our daughter wants only that nuisance planet in exchange for safeguarding our heirs, she may have it," the king reminded his wife. "I should give her three planets!"

"She'd only turn them down again, Cetus," reminded Spica with a laugh. "Grace is nothing, if not determined to get what she wants. That poor slave owner; I feel sorry for him already."

"Knowing Grace, she will do what she intends to do," Cetus assured his wife. "She also studied some basic medicine and her history courses focused heavily on military history and strategy. Every time I received her grade reports, I feared she'd try and take on that planet all by herself if I didn't offer her military assistance!"

"Knowing Grace, she would have," agreed the queen, "And most likely would have won, eventually. Her plan is foolhardy, but far less risk than that!"

"We will give her every assistance and pray every day," assured the king. "After all, even if she fails, we will still have Grastian, which is more than we had this morning, and she will put this Regula III business aside for more seemly things."

"But if she succeeds, we will have this Regula III business settled once and for all," agreed the queen. "We have nothing at all to lose."

****

Princess Grastian grunted as she swung her weapon, sparring with the guard. After just over a year of experimentation and practice, she finally had a solid plan of battle, a weapon she trusted and had gained the skill she'd need to put her plan into motion. From the sidelines, the twins watched their sister work, correcting her form occasionally and offering advice. She sparred every morning with a willing volunteer and drilled every afternoon and evening, preparing for the contest to come.

Another part of the plan was her personal grooming; scrubs and masks to remove the sun-darkened skin, oils to smooth her hair and give it a regal luster, tutors to polish comportment and neglected etiquettes. Princess Grastian wanted everything about herself to be perfect, wanted the people of Styxe to be unable to recognize her as the hardened, sunburnt slave they'd last seen.

All the while that Princess Grastian prepared for her part of the plan, the twins were receiving instruction from their own tutors, who were attempting to fill gaps in their students' education left by six years of slavery. The king was pleased with the tutors' reports, for the twins' basic education was fairly solid. Grace's efforts has proven fruitful, allowing the tutors to focus more on court polish and etiquette.

When the twins weren't at their lessons with tutors, they divided their days between other pursuits, attempting to catch up on years of missed opportunities. They could often be found sparring together or with various palace guards. They also shadowed their father's chancellor or working at some task Chancellor Draco assigned them, merely to preoccupy the twin princes while he attended other matters.

Privately, the king agreed with the chancellor that such training was an excellent idea. One of the boys would eventually be chancellor in Draco's place. As king, the other needed a firm understanding of how such things worked.

The queen made it her task to help her daughter make arrangements on Regula III to house and provide for the incoming Styxean immigrants. Most of the resident population had dwindled to a helpless few with nowhere else to go, making the prospect of future arrivals welcome indeed.

As welcome to the idea as the residents were, the governor was another matter entirely. Accustomed to very little attention from the crown, the governor was a self-important little man who managed to make far more income than the pitiful size of his legitimate population would allow. He hindered the princess at nearly every turn without seeming to intend it, until Princess Grastian began to wonder if he weren't in league with the pirates himself!

Chancellor Draco had been charged with tracking down the perpetrators of the plot against the king's children, which kept him rather busy as well. At the end of Grastian's training, the chancellor hadn't captured all of the perpetrators, but enough of them had been found and arrested that the king was satisfied by his chancellor's progress.

The whys and wherefores of the plot were known and those who'd hatched the plot were also known, if not actually found. The missing crew was mostly dead but the surviving few were found and restored. The rescued crewmembers explained that those shipmates who'd died had done so while fighting to get back to their royal charges.

Despite grief over their lost crewmembers,  Grastian and the twins were delighted to know that they'd foiled most of the plan when Orion had planted the virus bomb in the Aileron's computers. As it turned out, one of the school's guards had sold the Aileron, her crew, and her passengers to pirates, who would have used the information on the computers for their own gain.

The 'salvage operation' who had 'rescued' the children were actually the pirates trying to take possession of the ship they'd bought and while they'd been able to sell the children, it was the only profit they'd made. Not one bit of information had survived Orion's sabotage, so the ship had been entirely crippled, unable to fly at all without the proper computer programming in place.

Not only that, but the virus had uploaded and wiped clean every computer that the smugglers had tried to attach to the Aileron in order to restore her programming. In the end, the Aileron had been sold for scrap, her name having become synonymous with 'total failure' in pirate circles. Every bit of profit the pirates had made from selling her passengers had been totally eaten up in trying to restore the Aileron's computer systems.