WC: 1110

She didn't want to be on her homeworld. She hated it, the rather dire story it told was grim enough the woman's tender heart shattered at theverything, from the decay within, and the washed out buildings and patches of unknown terrors where men once stood; a monument to mortal arrogance and pride over all it surveyed, and the Dubhian Empire paid the price.

But some said it was good to return. To mend her world and let her return to her glory; to that end Dubhe felt unsure -- they'd been slavers for ******** sakes -- but she supposed the memory of their people's culture would be forgotten, long since gone and cast off into void. And it could be nice to see the ruins rebuilt -- but whom knew. For the moment Dubhe sat undisturbed in her fibal moment, at last poised to gaze over the precipace into eternity. It was all rather poetic, Dubhe felt, as she moved for the center structure of the capital. Although Dubhe knew, somehow, the machine was druined and no longer running -- ideally, it was destroyed.

As Dubhe approached the massive palacial complex, an odd feeling crept up the back of her neck as the hairs rose in trepidation; the woman forced an approach, frowning as she stopped at two colossal doors, and closed her eyes a moment to brace, and then opened them.

"Aaah, my dear Jolanthe, welcome home, sweet." The Emperor welcomed Sailor Dubhe - Jolanthe - home with a smile, the palace doors spread wide open as his arms matched, and Jolanthe hesitated when she saw the Emperor.

She had come home for a reason. The others needed her to speak for them and slowly, Jolanthe took a breath, steeling herself. Nobody told the Emperor bad news, and lived. Nobody got away with it, and she expected to be no different...

Even if she was his daughter.

"Father? The colonies are in revolt. I lost my unit. The conscripts have fled... The empire is in civil war for mass independance. The generals asked me to... Tell you..." Jolanthe winced, waiting then as the Emperor approached slowly, regarding his daughter silently.

The Dubhian Empire was such a new thing. Originally born of a simple little world huddled in a rocky, difficult land with few fartming locales, they found metals and machines early, building themselves so forests might sustain wood needs. It was a lovely agrarian hamlet until Jolanthe's father Midas saught power and conquered so many stars. Dubhe bloomed into a military superpower almost overnight; building a family as well as his empire. Jolanthe was not his first. His first was a son, foillowed by two more, fine young men each; two soldiers and a thespian, but Jolanthe was ever the one he seemed to dote on most, although none of them wanted for his love. Jolanthe never understood, although she adored her father.

Jolanthe's moyther died giving birth. The empire grieved even as they marvelled at the newborn crown princess; and then as Jolanthe grew, her elder brothers, bar the thespian, died in battle, and when it seemed the empire wanted for something... Shye awakened. Her training changed and she was forced into service by her father's men, and since.. Coming home was allowable, but she was ever anxious of orders. Thankfully, they never came, bar one man whom seemed to live to torment her, and he'd been put on house arrest. Now they made HER tell her father the empire was crumbling, to save their own skins, and Midas gazed down on his daughter in silent contemplation before reaching, pulling her close to him softly and tucking her under his chin.

"That they would send you says much, pet. And you cannot help their incompetance. If they bloody well cannot tell me themselves they bloody well will not be needing our world's senshi healing them." Midas motioned, before embracing Jolanthe tightly. Jolanthe blinked, and buried her face in her father desperately, clinging to him desperately as silken-gloved fingers fingercombed herpristine white locks softly. "I know you've done your best. I know you wanted others happy, and I know you aren't sad about this, sweet. And I... Cannot fault my daughter for her heart's desire. But one day they will have to obey, under penalty of treason, and when iyt comes for you to step into the title of Empress -- well, I know I'll step down and grant my title to the right child. You won't make my mistakes... You'll mend what is harmed, and... I look forward to it. But you are home and safe now, my precious Holanthe; my precious, brilliant daughter. Come inside and be at ease. Let the dogs chase their tails. We will wait, and let matters pass as they pass."

"...I... Thank you, Father. Thank you, for understanding. Please.. Don't be too hard, I--"

"I still would deal with this commander of yours. They know how failure is and thought yo sacrifice my daughter, and I will show them their mistake." Midas hugged her tighter, as if afraid to lose her himself, and Jolanthe finally calmed, burying in her father quietly in relief.

Dubhe hesitated. She hadn't expected...

That. To learn she'd been the Emperor's Daughter, let alone loved as he did. The Senshi moving inside, and took in the view of the building's interior. It was better than most, but still derelict, planks of wood missing in floors and the panels dark, even halg-hanging on stone as she passed. The lights were surprisingly strong, though she wasn't sure how. The colors were rich and deep, but then, the only windows were in rooms on the outer walls. Bedrooms, among others, filled the balls of the palacial complex. Those and the gardens and outside areas all radiated resplendance lost, and her wandering feet found the throne room, and, here, at last, she stood. The banners hung perfectly, is bleached white, and yet there were no bones, as in other places. It was barren and silent, and Dubhe slowly walked the bleached run towards the throne in silence, mind existing, perhaps, in the prtesent, but the memory of Midas sitting on his throne was burned into her mind, the man a towering figure over his people, and yet he erver had attention for his daughter.

His daughter.

Dubhe paused, growing pale in an instant as she looked up towards the throne, and stepped back. His heiress.

She couldn't deal with the memory suddenly, and turned, fleeing. She ran through halls, through the complex to the exit where she burst out, and fled, opting to find a place to return homer.

She couldn't deal with this now. She couldn't deal, period, and in a wink, Dubhe was gone from her homeworld, a great deall more distressed than arriving.