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Emperor Talan IX looked up through the crystal windows of the Imperial Palace at the brilliant blue sphere hanging like a jewel in Galman's twilit sky. The planet whose name had been lost in the Bolar invasion and who had renamed for the Queen of a world not unlike this one.
Queen Starsha of Iscandar. The savior of Terra, the one who had brought Wave-Motion technology to Earth and triggered the birth of the Yamato, and the one who had later sacrificed her life to keep the soldiers of Dezarium from waging further war.
And, according to legend, the only one whom the great Emperor Desslok I had ever loved.
Desslok I, Desslok the Cunning, Desslok the Strategist, Desslok the Magnificent. . . he had been given many names, in the thousands of years since his death.
But everyone knew the story: how the Leader of Gamilon, a world which had once been a colony and risen to head an Empire as mighty as any Galman had ever achieved, had been forced to destroy a world to save his people. How the Terrans had fought on despite the Gamilons' ridiculous advantage, even managing a few costly victories. How the determined Queen of Iscandar (Starsha the Resolute, some called her) had refused to stand by and watch a world die, and had given the Terrans Wave-Motion technology in the faint hope that they would find a way to break Gamilon's absolute defense line.
And the Terrans had latched onto that hope and made it a reality, constructing a warship from the bones of an old seafaring vessel and embodying her with the strength and power of a world. How the Yamato, captained by Avatar the Noble, had torn through Gamilon's defenses and destroyed their world in turn. How Desslok had pursued them beyond death itself, and how he had finally changed to the side of the Terrans after Nova the Adamant had shielded Wildstar the Valiant with her own body, declaring them allies forevermore.
And then they had lived up to that declaration, Desslok risking his life to defend Starsha as the Yamato sped to their rescue. How he had been ready to sacrifice himself to destroy the Dezarium ships for Starsha's sake when she had done the same herself.
And then Desslok had sought out a new homeworld from which to reconstruct a mighty empire, his vision for his people making it impossible to settle for anything less. And he had found the ancestral homeworld of Galman, earning his epithet of "the Vengeful" as he drove the Bolars from his people's world, with no mercy given.
And thus had begun the creation of an empire that would one day span galaxies. Desslok, their First Emperor after the darkness of Bolar occupation, had created a shining empire whose light would only brighten with time. There was a reason why he was revered so even now, when he should have faded to nothing more than half-remembered legend. And that reason was that, no matter what else he had been in his long life, in his last years the only epithet he had been known by was "the Benevolent." And while he had been entombed with a ceremonial sword in hand, everyone knew that the weapon was a concession to the days of conquest and war that had darkened his youth and reflected little on the reign of the one who had become a kind ruler at the last.
Desslok I had died without a true heir, abdicating the throne to Talan I, his aide and confidant a few days before his death. Emperor Talan I had continued the dynasty his predecessor had begun, whose light still shone down upon the Galman-Gamilon Empire, even now.
Emperor Talan IX turned from the window to the panorama stretching across the entire ceiling of the throne room, blue light from Planet Starsha spilling across its surface.
To the far right, Desslok stood, garbed in the ceremonial uniform of the Leader of Gamilon, his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword, golden hair hanging over into his brilliant amethyst eyes as he stared off into the middle distance, looking deeply preoccupied. Despite the presence of the ceremonial sword, the few faint streaks of silver in his blonde hair and the relative gentleness of his eyes made it quite clear that the Desslok in this image had already begun to show the kindness he could never have revealed before.
Talan I stood at Desslok's right hand, slightly behind, dressed in the uniform of the Imperial Navy and watching protectively for any who might dare touch his Emperor. A planet that might have been Gamilon and might have been Galman hung brightly in the starry sky behind them.
To the left stood the members of the first Star Force: Avatar the Noble, leaning on his cane but an intelligent sparkle still in his eyes; Wildstar the Valiant in a black peacoat and his Star Force uniform, arm in arm with Nova the Adamant; Venture the Cautious, eyes narrowed as he studied the path ahead; Sandor the Omniscient, standing beside Venture, curiosity shining in his dark eyes. High above them soared the Yamato, starlight glinting off her hull as fire trailed from her engines.
And in the center blazed Iscandar, and beneath it hovered the translucent form of Starsha the Resolute, a gentle smile upon her lips but a fierce flame burning in her eyes. A light wind blew through the image, causing cloth and hair alike to billow in the wind.
For all that they all knew it was an image that could have never happened, they still found the meaning behind it beautiful. It told the entire story of the Star Force and of Desslok, because those two would always be connected, forever and ever.
"Talan?" He turned to look in the direction of the voice, a smile finding its way onto his lips as he recognized the words of Astra Wildstar, the current Captain of the Yamato.
"Nothing, beloved. Simply remembering what was."
And what will be, he thought as he glanced up to Desslok I, and the light smirk that glinted in his eyes despite the passage of three thousand years.