Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So much has changed in so little time, Jupiter pondered as he gazed over the planetary system.  

The Sun, as always, was bright and warm, illuminating the planets that spun around him. Things may be complicated between them now, but Jupiter would always look to the Sun for light in the dark of space. It felt like a miracle that his star had even allowed him to stay after so horribly bruising his trust.

The rocky planets were engaged in their habitual card games, tossing cards into the middle in both frustration and victory, with the occasional argument thrown in for fun. Jupiter’s own orbit was quiet, his moons off in some club they’d mentioned to him a few times, and the asteroid belt was devoid of Ceres, who was similarly off at a club for dwarf planets. After all the revelations during that mysterious documentary, Jupiter had tried to at least keep an eye on the dwarf planet he’d so fundamentally damaged. I’ll never truly make up for it, but, as with everything, I can try.

Further out, in Saturn’s orbit, his friend was dozing peacefully. Ever since they’d gotten back, his dear friend had been rushing himself to memorise all 146 moons, plus the 128 more that had greeted him upon returning. It had not been a wholly calm way to meet new moons, but luckily most had not woken up yet. More moons than all the rest of us combined, I can’t imagine.

Just at the limit of his vision, he could see Uranus, tilt and all, making his way around the Sun. The poor ice giant was still deciding what to do about his name, but Jupiter held hope that even if Uranus never changed it, the rest of the Solar System would work harder to say his name correctly. 

Lost to the darker reaches of the Solar System, Jupiter could not see Neptune nor Planet X. His last visit to the region reassured him that they were both still there, at least. Neptune, despite the cold of his orbit, had been as warm as ever, greeting Jupiter and guiding him to Planet X. Unfortunately, Jupiter hadn’t been able to convince the blue ice giant to meet X with him. Neptune’s uncharacteristic reluctance towards Planet X was on Jupiter's list of ‘issues to look into’. At least Uranus had taken a shine to him.

“Hey, Big guy? What ya’ thinking so hard about?” The voice of his largest moon startled the gas giant and he turned to face him. Ganymede, followed by the rest of his moons, floated just beside his orbit.

“You’re back so soon?” Jupiter questioned.

“Yeah, there wasn’t much to say at the club today, I guess. It was fun, though. Good to catch up with everyone.” Ganymede summarised briefly. He knew his moon had had some trouble even being included in the club to begin with, something about a revolution? Either way, it had resulted in both him and Europa being very enthusiastic attendees now that they were actually allowed. “What were you looking at?”

“Oh, just looking for the ice giants. I am concerned about Planet X’s integration process.” Jupiter answered. Ganymede had been surprisingly insightful in the past few orbits, especially during the first days of Planet X’s return. Jupiter had come to value his input far more than he’d ever thought to before. After the mess of the ‘Documentary’ Ganymede had been relentlessly pushing for moons to be listened to and considered, and had led as a wonderful example to the others. I wonder where this all came from? He’s been so different recently, like a whole new moon.

“Yeah, I’ve heard some stuff from Neptune’s moons.” Ganymede added thoughtfully. “They reckon he’s not a huge fan of the guy.”

Jupiter had unfortunately suspected as much, but having it confirmed at least assured him of where the issue lay. He tried not to butt into the business of other planets, but as the one in charge of Planet X’s integration into the Solar System, he felt he had a duty to smooth over any problems that arose.

“Well, I’ll see what I can find out next time I check on him. Maybe Uranus might know more?” Jupiter mused aloud, turning his gaze back to the dark edges of the system. 

As his moons settled into their orbits, chattering amongst themselves, Jupiter contemplated taking a nap, or maybe finishing the book Earth had lent him a few cycles ago. I need to return it soon…

The tired feeling was winning though, and the gas giant faintly heard himself yawn as his vision darkened. A part of his mind was throwing up distress signals, but Jupiter was much too tired. This is awfully quick…but…what does it matter…

…

The gas giant started awake, the unfamiliar sensation of falling fresh in his mind, and immediately tried to turn his form to look around. Unlike the usual smooth 360° spin he was usually capable of, he found his movement severely restricted, and abruptly found himself painfully horizontal. Ow. 

Pausing to take stock of his body, he realised he was in humanoid form, restricted to legs and arms and spinal cord. His immense size did not help and he often hesitated to take this form willingly due to the movement restrictions it placed on him. He was already quite limited in his movement due to the strength of his gravity, and saw no reason to further compress himself into the form of Earth’s humans. Great, what now?

“AGAIN! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” The Sun’s familiar, grating screech met the gas giant’s ears as he became more aware of the room around him. The small, numerous forms of his moons were surrounding him, all waking up in similarly disorientated states.

As he glanced around, now finally on his feet, Jupiter realised he recognised their surroundings. The boxy, dark room was just as strange as before, the small faux-stars in the wall twinkling tauntingly, and the bean bag chairs were just as they’d left them. A new one had been placed next to the dwarf planets’, presumably for Planet X.

At the front of the room, already steaming with rage, the Sun was shouting at the dark screen they’d all grown so familiar with last time. After quickly placing a few of his younger moons on his bean bag, Jupiter made his way to the front as well. 

Before addressing his star, he hesitated. Ever since his Grand Tack had been revealed, the Sun had been tense around him. It was completely understandable, Jupiter had severely damaged his star’s trust, but the rejection still hurt. Even after his journey to find and return Planet X had been mostly successful, the star still kept a distance between them. The new void ached each time, a painful reminder that his own star, his oldest connection, did not welcome his presence.

“Sun?” Jupiter spoke quietly, moving only close enough to be seen by the star, but not close enough to crowd.

“Jupiter.” The star acknowledged him, then sighed heavily. “That fiend has trapped us again!” He glared hard at the screen and growled. “I REFUSE TO BE YOUR ENTERTAINMENT!”

The screen remained unmoved. Jupiter recalled the last meeting they’d had with the strange being who trapped them here. ‘You did not even try to pry the screen off’.

Feeling a bit hesitant and a lot foolish, the largest planet reached up to grasp the underside of the screen. As he tugged at it, trying to separate it from the wall, he was distinctly aware that the rest of the planets had joined them at the front by now. Just as he was about to write it off as useless, two more pairs of hands joined his own. Saturn, and beyond him, Sol, both beginning to yank at the screen beside him. 

“OK, OK, OK, that is enough! You are all very strong, now drop it.” The oddly lilted voice rang from the flickering screen. Its attackers dropped their hands in surprise, backing away warily. 

“You are very rude. I told you last time it would not be so easy.” The celestial’s in-humanoid face was back, just as vividly blue-grey as his memories, the feather-like appendages arrayed around the edges. “But maybe listening is not this system’s strength? Nor intellect?”

“HOW DARE YOU IMPRISON MY SYSTEM! AGAIN!” His star hissed with all the fury of his nuclear fusion core sparking in his eyes. “RELEASE US AT ONCE!”

“Now, now, now, you know my rules.” The voice held no humour, but the three solitary eyes wrinkled in amusement. “I have a new documentary for you! How exciting!”

“Is it an Earthling one again?” The Earth, stepping from his place between Venus and Mars, asked the screen boldly. 

“Yes! It is even the very same Earthling!” The eyes grinned wider, stretching Jupiter’s definition of eyes to new, horrible heights. Ah, Brian the Earthling…again?

“Why are you doing this?” Jupiter couldn’t help but ask. It surely couldn’t be that entertaining to watch planetary systems watch documentaries about themselves. “What do you gain?”

“Ah, ah, ah, that is a question, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is, he asked it.” Venus snarked at the screen.

“Temper, temper! You should watch that before it hurts someone.” The eyes zeroed in on Venus with sudden intensity, before returning to the whole room. “What I gain is irrelevant, you would not comprehend it. Why, though? That is more interesting.”

The room paused to hear the being’s words, but none came. Eventually, the Sun snapped. “Why, then?”

“Oh, that is the interesting part! You will have to find out! This documentary may even help, or not?” 

“What is even going on?” The deep voice startled Jupiter, but he managed to avoid letting it show. Planet X had now approached the screen, glaring at it with his signature frown. Even after a few Earth orbits in the system again, Planet X still made Jupiter involuntarily nervous. His voice had haunted his mind for so long, it was hard to shake.

“Oh, oh, oh! A new planet! How exciting!” The being gazed joyfully at X. “I wonder what you’ll say, I do wonder?” 

Planet X backed away from the screen with a scowl, watching the grey face tilt and grin, staying completely silent.

“Ah, the quiet type! Always needed, I suppose.” The eyes wandered over the rest of the gathered planets. “Well, let's get to it! I will leave you to your wonderful new documentary, so don’t break anything!”

The being eye-grinned one last time before fading from the screen, leaving only darkness. 

“So, this is that thing you mentioned?” Planet X’s voice asked. The rest of the room seemed to be heading for their previous seats, resided to this repeat experience. Maybe we should try the wall? Just to make sure?

“Yes, that was the celestial who imprisoned us last time.” Jupiter confirmed, leading the way back to their bean bags. “We will likely not be able to leave until the episodes are done. It was five last time, so I expect a similar amount this time.”

Planet X didn’t seem terribly excited by this idea, understandably, and merely nodded to the gas giant before grabbing the only vacant bean bag and moving it over to the other ice giants. As he placed it down between Uranus and Neptune, eliciting an excited smile from Uranus, Jupiter frowned. I need to talk to those three at some point, before anything gets out of hand.

Jupiter settled down himself, gently nudging a few moons out of the way, and prepared to watch another documentary. His largest moons, the Galileans, had arranged themselves at the foot of the bean bag, whispering to each other quietly.

“Our Universe is a place of infinite variety.” The voice of Brian was back, as recognizable as before, over the image of a probe floating in space. “Two trillion galaxies, billions and billions of stars, and countless planets, worlds beyond imagination.”

“He really is back! The Brian!” Phobos cried excitedly, jumping up from his planet’s vain attempt to keep him still.

“Clearly, he’s a favourite for voicing these documentaries.” Earth muttered, “Maybe next time we’ll get David Attenborough? Now that’s a voice!”

“I wonder what this one will be about?” Pluto’s quiet voice piped up. “I haven’t seen any new probes recently, so I don’t think it can be about us.”

Jupiter also wondered. Last time, the premise of the documentary had been stated by the mysterious celestial, but they’d left them without any hints this time. 

“The Universe is so vast, so incomprehensible, so terrifying, that I think it’s quite natural for us to choose to live out our lives completely oblivious to it.” Brian was walking through a wide, yellow desert. “Perhaps that’s why there’s a sense of relief that rises with the dawn. The brightening sky hides the stars and the questions that they pose.”

Jupiter could admit a similar reluctance to ponder much of the wider Universe. Ever since his birth, he’d only known one star and one small part of the Universe. Even the idea of the Milky Way, their own galaxy, seemed impossibly distant. 

“Are there many Earthlings who don’t think about the Universe? From these documentaries so far, I’d have assumed they all wanted to know more.” Titan, Saturn’s largest moon, asked the Earth. Jupiter had found the growing friendship between Earth, Luna, and Titan a bit unexpected at first, given the distances. But, it seemed despite that, the three of them had kept up regular communications, aided by the Moon club meetings.

“Nah. I mean, most of them are curious, sure. But not many actually try to find more answers.” The living planet replied. “I can’t blame them, I mean, they are absolutely tiny compared to me, and I’m tiny compared to the Universe.”

“After all, they are the biggest questions. How did the Universe come to be? Why are we here? And how will it all end?”

“The answers are, don’t know, don’t care, and I won’t be around to see it so who cares.” Ganymede snarked. Jupiter frowned at his moon’s words.

“That’s not a very good attitude to approach such things with, Ganymede. Curiosity is vital.” The moon looked a little more thoughtful at his words.

“Sorry, Big guy.” Ganymede replied, “I’m still a little annoyed that we’re stuck here to begin with.”

“Understandably, but we did know this was likely to happen again.”

“I thought we’d get a few more cycles, at least.” Ganymede sighed despondently.

“Y-yeah! I-it felt like n-no time at a-all!” Io complained. Jupiter just sighed sympathetically.

“Won’t the Sun have killed them long before the Universe ends?” Europa asked the gas giant. 

“I imagine so.” Jupiter responded carefully. He was not looking forward to such days. The end of the Solar System, brought about by the end of their star. But, before that, the loss of the Earthlings would be a similarly devastating one. “But, they could still learn much from predicting the end, even if they never see it.”

“We have to face those questions if we’re ever to acquire a truly deep understanding of ourselves.” Brian continued to walk along the rises of sand. “You see, astronomy challenges us. From one perspective, we’re just grains of sand adrift in an infinite and indifferent ocean.”

“Optimistic perspective.” Planet X’s low drawl caught Jupiter’s hearing. Next to him, Uranus laughed lightly. 

“You should’ve heard some of the stuff they said about their own planet last time.” The pale ice giant commented, “They love comparing us to dust and putting themselves on a pedestal.”

“Well, they also compared us to gods, like Jupiter’s episode, or jewels, like Saturn’s.” Neptune put in with a smile. Planet X just frowned slightly, and the blue ice giant’s grin dropped.

“But from another perspective, we are nature’s most magnificent creation, collections of atoms that can think and wonder about the Universe.” The Earthling implored to the camera. “And, choose to explore it.”

“Are the Earthlings always this self-important?” Planet X asked dryly, watching the screen disdainfully. “I suppose they don’t know we can think too?”

“Um, one Earthling knows, I think?” Uranus answered, “The rest are pretty much just like Brian though.” 

“They don't really recognise sentience in other types of Earthlings very often, so I don't think they're ready to consider the sapience of planets just yet.” The Earth countered, looking at the new planet. Jupiter hadn’t really gotten around to introducing the rocky planets, aside from that first meeting with the Sun. It will be interesting to see what they make of each other, since most were not even born when X was…removed.

An overlapping of multiple Earthling voices is heard as rockets are launched into space. “In our quest for answers, we’re venturing ever further from home, far beyond the planets, and out to the stars.” Dramatic music played as fast-moving probes danced by.

“Oh! Are they looking outside the Solar System?” Neptune grinned, watching the probes with a fascinated expression. 

“Looks like it! I wonder what they’ll find?” Saturn added, also smiling, and turned to Jupiter. 

“It will certainly be intriguing to see how much they have learnt.” Jupiter settled on, not actually sure what the Earthlings might find. I have never really learnt about such things. The Sun never seemed interested in discussing it.

Risking a glance at his star, he saw an oddly pained expression, with just a hint of profound curiosity. Maybe he doesn’t know anything either? No, he’s a star, they have far more knowledge than us planets.

“Our spacecraft are sending back a stream of extraordinary revelations, visions of alien worlds,” The screen was filled with unfamiliar stars and planets, massive ice planets and ringed titans. “With the ingredients to create Life.”

“Of course, they’re off to find Life again.” Mars sighed, but the frown quickly slipped off his face. “Maybe they’ll have better luck out there anyway, more options and all?”

“Bit less visitable, however.” Mercury suggested with a shrug.

“They’ll get there eventually.” Earth put in with a proud tone. “They’ve gotten all over you guys in just a few years!”

“We’ve seen galaxies collide, black holes devouring star systems,” A large rocky planet was being ripped apart by a void of darkness. “And we may have glimpsed the origins of the cosmos itself.”

That is…a lot. Jupiter didn’t know where to begin with the images on the screen. Clearly, the Earthlings had been busy. 

“B-black holes!” Io stammered fearfully. “O-oh, I d-don’t wanna t-think about t-those.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you to stop thinking when it gets to them.” Callisto’s monotone voice reassured the moon. Jupiter wasn’t sure Io had picked up on the sarcasm, however.

“With every new observation, every new piece of knowledge, there is the opportunity to acquire a deeper understanding.” Brian was facing the camera. “And as we answer question after question, we get ever closer to being able to tell what is surely the greatest story ever told.”

“So they got done telling our stories without asking, and now they’re doing it to the rest of the Universe.” Venus muttered irritably, “At least this is gossip I’m actually interested in.”

“I mean, if they’ve managed to actually see the Big Bang, I want to hear about it!” The Sun sounded doubtful, but the gleam of interest in his eyes told Jupiter his star wanted these answers as badly as the rest of them.

The music (Neptune by Foals) swelled and the title ‘Universe’ exploded onto the screen. 

“New title screen!” Neptune smiled as the music faded. 

“Not as cool as the old one.” Jupiter countered playfully. He would miss the title screen from last time. Seeing all his fellow planets in such a new way was always a treat, even if the episodes themselves were harrowing.

“Of course you’d say that. Saturn wasn’t in this one.” The snarky whisper of his largest moon erupted the other moons into laughter. Jupiter tried to ignore them as his atmosphere warmed slightly.

A bright, almost white circle appeared on the screen and slowly grew larger and larger. Then, in an instant, it faded to reveal a probe as it ejected a part of itself. ‘NASA Parker Solar Probe’ faded into view next to the small probe. Earthling radio chatter revealed its mission was to investigate Sol, their closest star.

“Oh, that little guy!” The Sun grinned manically, “He keeps trying to die in my atmosphere. He’s not very good at it.”

“Probably ‘cause it’s not trying to hit you, Sun.” Earth laughed. “It’s just getting a look at you.”

“NASA’s Parker Solar Probe is the first spacecraft to touch a star.” The probe was now heading straight towards the burning mass of the Sun’s form. The probe very carefully turned to only expose its protective shield to the star as it glanced by the tops of its atmosphere. “It’s designed to fly through the Sun’s atmosphere, braving temperatures no spacecraft has ever endured.”

“Impressive.” Jupiter couldn’t help but be in awe of such a tiny thing being able to get so close to a star. Even at his current orbit distance, the Sun was hard to look at directly, and the heat of his atmosphere could be felt, if only a little, across the whole Solar System. Being able to get close enough to touch such a heat source sounded almost fanciful. But, clearly, the Earthlings managed it.

“How is it doing that?” Mercury asked in wonder. “I’m the closest to the Sun and even I wouldn’t get that close without melting.”

“Well, you’d probably get torn up by the Roche limit first.” The Sun added, “But yeah, how is it doing that?”

“I believe it involves a lot of complex engineering, especially to prevent the electrical components from melting. But mostly, it’s that heat shield you can see.” The Earth replied, thinking. “It also only dips that close for a bit. It’s very fast and orbits the Sun elliptically.”

Jupiter was once again in awe of the intellect these lifeforms always seemed to demonstrate. It is amazing that such intelligence came from the same Life that Earth first had.

‘Temperature, 1,333 degrees celsius’ appeared as the probe was seen shaking, horrifyingly close to the heat of the star, and the number only increased. “The Parker Solar Probe is allowing us to know our star as we’ve never known it before.”

“They’re that determined to know everything, aren’t they?” Mars asked rhetorically, watching the little probe endure the star’s heat. “Even the Sun isn’t immune.”

“And it’s also helping us to tell the story of all the stars.” The probe was finally released from its close orbit and headed away, readying for another go around. 

“Oh, is this episode going to be about stars?” Saturn wondered.

“It seems like it. Should be interesting at least.” Planet X was watching the screen intently, and Jupiter was glad to see some curiosity in there. I hope he enjoys some of this, at least. I don’t want him to regret taking my offer to come back.

“Our Sun is from a long line of stars dating back to the dawn of time, from fierce blue giants,” An immense star, leaking bright blue all around it. “Which first lit up the Universe, to later generations, whose deaths enriched the cosmos with precious elements, the building blocks of our Solar System.”

“WOW! That’s a big star!” Deimos gasped at the sight of the bright blue giant. 

“Why can’t we have a blue star?” Phobos asked his planet, “It looks so cool!”

Mars didn’t seem to know how to answer that, but the Sun frowned and replied instead. “You won’t want that, believe me.”

Jupiter wasn’t sure what Sol was referring to, but he trusted that the resident star knew more than the rest of them about such things. Hopefully this episode will tell us.

“And allowed our Sun to create the thing which brings meaning to the cosmos,” The camera panned to reveal the Earth, then Brian standing on a rocky ledge overlooked by the Sun. “Life, you and me.”

“Well, I’m glad they know who to thank for it all!” The Sun grinned at the screen.

“I mean, I guess it is true for us as well.” Callisto muttered at his side, quiet enough to be unheard by the rest of the room. “We all formed because of him.”

“I don’t care. That doesn’t give him dictatorship over all of us.” Ganymede’s equally quiet, angry reply startled Jupiter. I wish he wouldn’t say such things, it will get him in trouble one day.

‘God Star, The Sun’ faded slowly onto the screen over a sunrise above an ocean.

“I fear the Sun just won the ‘Coolest title’ competition.” Earth complained. “Why couldn’t they have been this epic in the last one?”

“You’re just being petty because they gave you a combined title with me.” Mars laughed at his fellow rocky world. “Don’t you want to be ‘Sisters’?” 

“You didn’t get a cool title either!”

“We have a strange relationship with the stars,” Brian was walking beside the beach of the ocean, “somewhere between awe and indifference. I think we take our star, the Sun, for granted, partly because of its predictability.” 

“They WHAT!” The star hissed in shock. “How DARE they take me for granted!”

“I’m sure that Earthling is just confused, Sun.” Saturn jumped in, trying to defuse the star a bit. “They couldn’t possibly be so unaware of your power!”

The Sun considered this with a frown, steam rising off his form. Jupiter hoped this didn’t keep happening all episode. If the Earthlings don’t watch their words, they might get fried when we get home.  

“Every day, it rises in the east and sets in the west, without any help or reverence from us.” The sunrise behind Brian was making it hard to look directly at him. “But many ancient cultures deified the Sun. They treated it as a god.”

“As they should!” The Sun crowed, satisfied again that the documentary would not be dismissing him so carelessly. “I am Ra, Apollo, Helios, the Inti, Huītzilōpōchtli!”

“They deified me too, but you don’t see me shouting about it.” The Earth’s moon muttered lowly to his planet, who had to suppress a grin.

“And the Sun gods were creators and destroyers of worlds.” The brilliant bright light of the star was lighting the whole room. “So which is it?”

“Definitely the god one, not the first one.” Sol insisted to the screen. 

“This is going to be insufferable.” Uranus sighed quietly from the back of the room. Planet X just frowned at this, watching the Sun. 

“He is our star, he does have a ‘godlike’ status over us.” X replied carefully. Jupiter remembered how insistent the younger Planet X had been about the Sun having final say in the Solar System. I guess leaving it didn’t change that.

“Well, I think that the modern story of the stars, as told by science, which is indisputably an epic story, stretching back over 13 billion years to the origin of the Universe, places them firmly in the realm of the gods.”

“W-well, I g-guess we can’t a-argue with t-that.” Io stammered out, glancing at Ganymede.

“What are you talking about? Of course we can argue with that!” Ganymede hissed in quiet frustration. Jupiter got the distinct impression his moon had forgotten he could hear all this, no matter how low they spoke. 

“If we want to understand where these gods came from, we have to go back to a time before the stars.” The screen faded to black. ‘13.8 billion years ago’ crept onto the black.

“Before the stars?” Proteus, one of Neptune’s little moon, exclaimed in surprise. “There’s a ‘before’?”

“Of course, Proteus.” Planet X’s deep voice responded with a grin. “Everything had to start at some point, even the stars.”

Proteus seemed fascinated by the planet’s words, but Neptune was watching Planet X with an odd expression. 

“In the beginning, the Universe was dark.” Faint red clouds began to appear, threaded together. “But it was not empty. Something was lurking in the void, stretching out tendrils.”

“Creepy.” Europa shuddered as the darkness of the screen rendered the whole room into shadows. 

“What was in the dark, Mars?” Phobos asked his planet with a shaky voice, shivering at the sight of the red clouds. 

“I don’t know…” The red planet trailed off with his own confused frown.

‘The cosmic web’ appeared over the red clouds, which were now a part of a huge mass of lines, intersecting and twisting with each other. “The cosmic web grew to become a vast structure, crisscrossing the entire Universe.”

Jupiter was sure he’d never heard of such a thing before. All the Sun had ever said was that the ‘Big Bang’ had taken place, then stars had existed and created planets. Nothing more. How did the Earthlings find out about this?

“Is this after the Big Bang?” Neptune asked, curious eyes seeking the Sun for an answer.

“Um-yes. I-I’m pretty sure!” The star’s nervous answer did not reassure Jupiter of the Sun’s knowledge of this.

“It was formed by interlocking filaments of dark matter. And it was at the places where these filaments met, the intersections, that the first stars, our Sun’s earliest ancestors, were born.” Soft music began as the camera focused on a small point of light, flickering in the dark.

“Dark matter.” Mercury repeated, then asked, “What is that?”

Jupiter looked to the Sun, but he appeared as clueless as the rest of them. The star’s expression was pinched and he seemed to be desperately searching his memories. 

“I-I think I’ve heard it mentioned? But not what it actually was.” The star stammered out, watching the screen with new trepidation.

“The cosmic web is the scaffolding of the Universe,” Brian’s voice was echoey, and he was now in a cave of ice on Earth’s surface. “The vast and intricate structure that spans the void. The web was made primarily out of dark matter, a mysterious substance that dominates the Universe, although we don’t know what it is. 

“Well, if even the Earthlings don’t know what it is, how do they know it caused the ‘Cosmic Web’?” Venus questioned sceptically.

“I guess they just assume it must exist? Maybe their physics doesn’t make sense without it?” Luna suggested, oddly insightful. 

“Bit of an unstable way to make theories about the start of all stars.” 

“It’s one of the great mysteries of modern physics. It’s probably some kind of particle that interacts very weakly with itself and with light. It doesn’t interact with light. You can’t see it, which is why it’s called dark matter.” Brian’s explanation didn’t really help. “But it does influence the Universe through its gravity.”

“Is it just me, or did that not make any sense?” Uranus' wide eyes watched the screen with a dumbfounded expression. 

“Yeah, how does it interact weakly with light, but also doesn't interact with light at all?” Pluto spoke up in agreement, looking similarly lost. Jupiter wanted to join them in voicing their confusion, but he could barely get a grasp of the concept enough to question it.

“It was in the dark heart of the cosmic web that gravity began to sculpt the early Universe, drawing together the two simplest elements- hydrogen and helium, the raw material for the very first stars”

“Wait. We still don’t know what Dark matter even is?” Mars questioned aloud, glancing around the room only to find other confused expressions. 

“Maybe they’ll find more proof in the future? It sounds like they’re pretty sure it exists.” Earth offered, also frowning in confusion. 

“Do you know about it, Jupiter?” The small voice of his moon, Thebe, startled the gas giant. “You know lots of things!”

“Unfortunately, I do not know this, I’m afraid.” Jupiter reluctantly admitted. He had known that the first elements of the Universe were hydrogen and helium, and had inferred that the first stars must have been made from them, but beyond that he was in the dark with everyone else.

“Hydrogen gas clings to the filament…” The Earthling explained that the gas was attracted by gravity to the dark matter, and at the intersections of dense gas, galaxies began to form. “...each filled with billions of stars.”

“So…the dark matter caused the first stars to form.” Mercury summarized, then added. “So does it cause all stars to form?”

“I would not know.” The Sun replied stiffly, glaring at the screen with intense concentration. The steam leaving his hair let Jupiter know that his star was not in a good mood. I suppose finding out the Earthlings know more about your own existence than you do would be a bit shocking. But, after the last documentary, what else did he expect?

“The Universe was approaching a turning point.” The cosmic web was back on screen. “Hydrogen and helium poured into the regions where the filaments crossed, gathering into ever denser clouds. Gravity asserted its grip and the clouds of gas began to collapse, becoming denser and denser.”

Watching the first elements and forces in the Universe begin to ignite all that would come after, Jupiter felt weirdly disturbed, like he was never supposed to witness or comprehend such things. The rest of the room seemed similarly stuck in a frozen awe, watching the screen for something even slightly more familiar. 

“This is quite a bit more intense than the last one, I must say-” The voice of Makemake was abruptly cut off by, presumably, the other dwarf planets. Jupiter couldn’t tear his eyes away to check. 

“And in the densest regions, the gas became so hot that nuclear fusion reactions began.” The music rose as the small point of red light suddenly burst into a vivid blue, illuminating the area for the first time. “And out of the maelstrom, the first gods emerged. And there was light.”

Beautiful. It was all Jupiter could think, watching this new, massive star spark into life. The quiet of the room was broken by a quiet, soft voice. 

“Were they lonely? Being the first ones?” A small Neptunian moon asked, turning worried eyes to their planet. Neptune considered her question carefully before replying.

“Maybe, Thalassa. But it wouldn’t have been for long, I’m sure. Other stars were probably being born all over the place.” Neptune’s words seemed to satisfy the moon, but Jupiter was still stuck on the question. Were they lonely? It seemed absurd to think such a thing about the first stars, the origin of all that came after. But, what if they were? Their own star was one of billions in the Milky Way, but Jupiter had never heard him speak of knowing any other stars. Certainly not as friends. 

The gas giant was ashamed to realise he’d always assumed stars simply didn’t need the company of others. Glancing at his star now, he tried to infer how the Sun had reacted to Neptune’s words. The star was tense, and with his face turned away from Jupiter, whatever expression he held was a mystery.

“The stars illuminate the Universe.” Brian was now walking on another desert, this one covered in dark sand. “But that is the least interesting thing that they do.”

“I don’t know, it’s pretty interesting to me.” Mars began with a doubtful tone. “I like being able to see stuff.”

“What else do stars even do?” Ariel asked. Titania, sitting at her side, shook her head at the moon. 

“Lots of things, Ariel. Just listen to the Earthling.” She didn’t sound any happier to be in this situation a second time and was picking at Uranus’ bean bag irritably. 

“The thing that makes the Universe interesting, that brings meaning to the Universe is that-” Brian points into the distance at a river bordered by greenery. “Life, you and me.”

“Wow. You were right, Uranus.” Planet X hummed at the Earthling on screen. Uranus looked surprised, but smiled at X anyway. “They do seem to have put themselves on a pedestal.”

“Hey, it’s not their fault they haven’t been able to talk to us yet!” Earth insisted, “And Astrodude is nice, when he manages to rationalize our existence.”

“And how often is that?” X’s doubtful question earned him a glare from Earth, but nothing more. I suppose it was a bit optimistic of me to hope they would get along. They both have very…strong personalities.

“And Life is just chemistry. And chemistry requires complex chemical elements.” Brian was sitting, moving his hands as he spoke. “The only thing that existed in the Universe before the stars was hydrogen and helium. Life requires carbon and oxygen and iron.”

“So stars made everything? Other than hydrogen and helium I guess.” Mercury commented, tossing a quick glance at the Sun.

“We make helium as well.” The star simply stated, still focused on the screen, and, likely sensing the star’s mood, Mercury stopped himself from asking any follow-up questions. 

“All those things were made in a process called nuclear fusion, in the cores of stars or even, for the heavier elements like gold, in the collisions of stars.” The Earthling explained. “So, without the stars, the Universe would be uninteresting. It would be meaningless. It would be just an infinite box of gas.”

“An infinite box of gas does sound boring.” Triton muttered, sitting in his usual spot beside Neptune. The rest of the Neptunian moons were spread between the two, watching the screen with wide, curious eyes. Jupiter had never gotten the full picture of what the two had argued about in the previous documentary, but whatever it was seemed to have cleared up.

“Is that why Earthlings are obsessed with gold? ‘Cause it came from colliding stars?” Luna asked his planet in curiosity. 

“Maybe? I think they just like it ‘cause it’s shiny and stays shiny for a long time.” Earth pondered. “The rarity might be a factor, but I doubt they knew about the star stuff back when they first started using it.”

“Typical. Always shiny things with them.”

“The first stars were monsters, hundreds of times as massive as our Sun.” The giant blue star filled the screen again. “They burnt with such ferocity that they shone blue with surface temperatures in excess of 100,000 degrees.”

“Oh, are blue stars always really hot?” Phobos asked, then added in a smaller voice. “I guess it would be a bit bad to have a really, really hot star.”

“Yeah! We might melt!” 

The Sun was scowling at the screen, lines of anger turning his face hard. Jupiter found himself instinctually asking, “Are you OK, Sun?”

The anger remained, but his star did soften his face as he turned to his oldest planet, a frown still caught on his lips. Jupiter was the tense one now, unsure if his question had been appreciated or rejected.

“I dislike how the Earthlings are referring to the First Ones.” Sol began, voice carefully calm. “'Monsters' is not a kind way to speak of the beginners of all things.”

“I agree, Sun.” Jupiter nodded respectfully to his star, cautiously optimistic that he’d seen fit to reveal this to the planet that had so recently broken his trust. Maybe there’s still hope? “However, we know the Earthlings understand little of such things.”

“They know more than me! It shouldn’t be possible, but I’ve only heard rumours of the First Ones before this, never so much as has been revealed here.” Sol insisted with a harsh voice. “It is shameful. Embarrassing.”

Jupiter wasn’t sure how to reassure his star that not knowing everything was fine. He was just as guilty as the rest of always assuming their star knew everything, about the Universe and everything in it. There was no larger, older being that any of them had ever been able to talk to. The Sun created them, gave them light and chased away the cold and dark of space, even used his heliosphere to protect them from the radiation of the Universe. The young, naïve part of himself still cried out in horror at the idea of Sol not holding all the answers. But, he couldn’t let it show. Instead of replying, Jupiter settled on offering his hand to the star. And, to his surprise, the Sun took it.

“They were the largest stars ever to have lived, violent and volatile giants.” 

“Violent?” Uranus tilted his head at the screen in confusion. “How were they violent?”

“I’m sure they don’t mean it literally.” Neptune put in with his usual energy. The blue ice giant had moved his bean bag at some point, and now sat on the other side of Uranus from Planet X. “Maybe they just gave off lots of radiation? I mean, they’re sooo big, they must be very powerful emitters?”

“Surely you cannot be so naïve?” Planet X drawled, a smile creeping onto his lips as he faced Neptune. “Any celestial with such power would be ruthless, and endlessly violent to anything smaller than it.”

“Hey, mate. I don’t think we really know enough to say all that?” Uranus cut in nervously. “I mean, nothing else existed to be smaller than them, so who were they violent towards?”

“I don’t know, probably each other?” X sneered, tossing a glance at the rest of the room. “I mean, you guys are always fighting and arguing despite all being planets. I don’t find it hard to believe stars could be just as bad.”

Jupiter was taken aback by Planet X’s statements. Clearly, he still had some work to do, to fully integrate the planet into the Solar System. Luckily for X, the Sun was far too focused on the screen to punish him for suggesting such things about the ‘First Ones’, as Sol called them.

“A star is essentially a balancing act.” Brian was now standing near a geyser. “The force of gravity is constantly trying to collapse it…” Brian explained that as the hydrogen in the star is compressed, forcing the protons closer together, the Strong Nuclear force binds the protons together. “...that releases energy, which creates a pressure which holds the star up.”

Jupiter found this hard to picture. His own core was hot, heated by the pressure of his mass causing gravitational forces to bear down on his atmosphere. But, there wasn’t really enough forces from chemical reactions for it to start pushing back enough to solely keep his atmosphere up. And he certainly wasn't hot enough to bind protons into new elements. Most of his elements were likely more stable as well, so reactions weren't as filled with potential energy to be released. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to be constantly pushing against your own gravity just to prevent a collapse, fuelled only by two protons being bound together.

“Why don’t we all have to fight against gravity?” Ganymede, much to Jupiter’s surprise, asked. 

“You do. You’re just made of more stable elements and have significantly less mass, thus less gravitational force pressing down on you.” The Sun sighed out his reply, gaze still locked on the Earthling. “It’s why the bigger gas planets have hot cores, while you moons tend to be cold unless something is heating you up.”

Ganymede didn’t appear too impressed with this answer, but for once, he wisely kept his mouth shut. I’m not sure the Sun is in the best mood for any snarky comments from moons at the moment.

“Now, the more massive the star, the stronger the inward pull of gravity, and the more energy has to be released to maintain the balance, and so the faster the ingredients are used up.” The screen cuts back to the first stars.

“Used up?” Ariel, now leaning over the edge of Uranus’ bean bag, exclaimed in surprise. “What is it using up?”

“Hydrogen, probably.” Uranus answered simply, and carefully pulled the moon back onto the seat before she tumbled off. “You need to pay attention, the Earthling will tend to answer most of the questions eventually.”

“Oh, let her have some fun.” Planet X’s deep voice grinned. “And, asking questions is never a bad thing.” 

“Uh, yeah mate, you're right. Sorry Ariel.” Uranus nervously corrected. His moon, however, did not seem in the least bit upset, and just shrugged in response. Soon, the little moon was convincing her younger Uranuian moons to dangle off the edge of the seat as well.

“These giant stars were in a struggle for survival, fighting the relentless pull of gravity, consuming more and more hydrogen fuel to maintain their precarious equilibrium.” The blue energy radiating from the giant could almost be felt through the screen. 

“Oh, you were right, it was hydrogen!” Oberon smiled at his planet, but Uranus’ focus was elsewhere. As the pale ice giant gazed at Planet X, Jupiter couldn’t help but feel vaguely confused. He really has taken a shine to him. And in so little time.

“Standing in front of that star…I can’t imagine how warm it would feel.” Mars muttered in awe. The blue glow was touching the faces of all in the room, painting them shades from purple to pale cyan. 

“I think I would just melt, immediately.” Titan concurred with a slight tone of wariness.

“At least you’d have some rocks left!” Tethys whined, “I’d be a puddle.”

“For most of its life, a star burns hydrogen- the simplest chemical element, with one proton in its nucleus- into helium, with two protons.” Brian was sitting near a pool of water. “Now, when it runs out of hydrogen…” He explained that the core would begin to shrink and heat up, and the star would fuse more elements into carbon, oxygen, etc. “...releasing more and more energy as it goes.”

“Is that what’ll happen when you turn into a red giant?” Earth’s oddly quiet question startled the star, and he sighed.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but yes.” The Sun spoke with an uncomfortable tone, shifting his gaze away from the screen to stare at the ground. “As I run out of hydrogen fuel, I will start burning helium instead. I will quickly run out of this, and the force of gravity will contract my core, increasing pressure which causes those other elements to form, until I run out entirely.”

No one in the room would meet the eyes of another. As always, the ever-present threat of the Sun’s eventual death hung heavy in the air. Even for celestials who would not be consumed directly by the expanding star, the loss of light and gravity would be devastating. A planet without a star…there is no greater tragedy.

“But when the star has assembled iron in its core, with 26 protons in its nucleus, no more energy can be released. The star loses its battle against gravity. It collapses.”

Beside him, Saturn pressed his hands to his mouth in some attempt to smother a gasp. Reaching across the small distance, he gave his remaining hand to his friend, gratified to feel him squeeze back in return. On his other hand, the Sun was still, face tensed and turned down from the screen. He held Jupiter’s hand loosely, but the gas giant didn’t want to remove it.

“Will you form iron?” Mercury was staring at the Sun, worry crossing the smallest rocky planet’s face as he asked. “In your core?”

The star shook his head, looking almost embarrassed as he explained. “No, I’m far too small of a star to achieve the temperatures needed to fuse neon, let alone iron.” 

“So, only big stars make iron?” Earth asked in interest. “Does all the iron on my surface come from big old stars then?”

“Everything comes from old stars.”

“And in a final moment of creation, salvaged, if you like, from its destruction, it distributes those newly minted heavy chemical elements out into the Universe.” Brian spoke with awe. 

Jupiter couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to die, knowing every part of you would one day form new celestials. Did it bring them peace? Did they even know what their deaths would yield?  

“It’s beautiful, in a strange way.” Saturn muttered at his side. Jupiter imagined he was reminded again of his lost moon, Chrysalis, whose death created his glorious rings. Jupiter himself found his gaze wandering to the rocky planets, resting on the Earth and Luna. The living world was leaning slightly against his companion, both engrossed in the screen. Death seems to be the price for beautiful things in this Universe.

“Imagine we could journey back in time and watch the first star live out its brief, luminous life.” The massive blue star covered the screen, roaring with energy. “After only a million years, the star used up all of its fuel, the core collapsed,” The light shrunk into the star, fading slightly. 

“A million years?” Neptune repeated in horror, gazing sadly at the screen which held the bright image of the dying star.

While this was probably a long span of time for Earth’s creatures, a mere million years was the blink of an eye to celestials. Even his youngest moons were mostly older than that, and those who were not had not yet awoken. The implications of this was certainly not lost on the room, who were exchanging horrified and tearful glances as the star died. Neptune had gathered all of his moons within reach, holding them closely. Even Triton hadn’t escaped this, despite his put-upon expression. 

Saturn’s grip on his hand had gotten noticeably tighter, almost painful, but Jupiter did not protest. His moons had silenced, struck by the events on the screen into wordlessness. Even Planet X, despite his frown, held a sadness in his eyes as he watched.

The Sun’s gaze was fixed firmly on the floor in front of him. Jupiter had no desire to shift his gaze or turn his focus back to the screen. All he would see there would be a dying celestial, one he clearly revered, and who’s life was apparently painfully short. 

“The star imploded,” As the light flickered, it faded more and more until a great surge of light and colour burst from the dying star, stretching across the darkness. “And then rebounded in a colossal explosion, a supernova.”

As awful as it felt to think it, Jupiter could only describe the star’s death as wondrous. The lights, the colours, and the knowledge that such an explosion would ignite a billion more stars, left Jupiter in awe. The first creators of the Universe. It is truly a gift to see this.

“Pretty!” The voice came from the dwarf planet huddle. Ceres, grinning widely, was pointing at the supernova insistently. The other dwarf planets, even some he didn’t recognise, quickly worked to distract the dark celestial and remove themselves from the room’s attention. Jupiter was confused by their skittish nature but was glad Ceres had friends looking out for them. 

“They have a point.” The deep voice of Planet X startled Jupiter out of his reverie. “It is a ‘pretty’ death. I imagine we will not be so lucky as to have that.” 

Jupiter wondered if X had meant that to sound comforting, like the death of such a young celestial was softened by the beauty of it? Or if he was merely morbidly reminding the room of their eventual deaths, and how insignificant they would be in comparison? Maybe isolation did more harm than I first thought? Maybe I need to have Mercury talk to him? 

“In death, the first stars began to transform the cosmos, enriching the ocean of hydrogen and helium which filled the Universe with heavy elements, to build new generations of more complex stars.” 

“More complex?” Mars’ echoed with a questioning tone. “How?”

“They likely mean that later generations of stars contained elements other than hydrogen and helium at birth.” Sol’s voice was unusually emotionless and serious as the star answered his planet. “All stars can be roughly aged by their metallicity compared to the First Ones, or Population III stars. Second gens, or Population II stars only have a small percentage of metals, while third gens, or Population I stars like me have higher amounts.”

“Metals? I thought the stars created everything, not just metals?” Mars continued his questioning. 

“Oh! I know this one! My Earthlings call anything heavier (atomically) than hydrogen and helium, metals. But only in the context of Astrophysics.” Earth piped up excitedly.  

“Does that make a difference? Having more ‘metal’ in your core?” Mercury asked in follow-up. 

“I-I don’t think so? But I have not spoken to a Population II star since my formation, so I have not had the chance to ask.” The Sun revealed. Jupiter was surprised to hear that Sol had ever spoken to a second gen star at all, given how lost he’d looked during this documentary. Though, given the uncomfortable expression his star wore at the mention of them, maybe it was not a nice meeting. 

“So…are most stars third gen?” Earth spoke up, likely hoping to continue the Sun’s oddly open answers. It wasn’t often their star was willing to reveal stuff of this nature. 

“Yes, at least in our area of the Milky Way.” The Sun nodded, “Most older stars have died, especially the big ones, or are scattered around the centre. The few who are around are small and not close to me.”

“What about those ‘First Ones’? Are some of them still around?” Venus asked before the documentary could unpause.

“Not to my knowledge. I imagine they all died a long time ago, if the Earthlings are right about their size.”

‘11.2 billion years ago’ faded onto the dark screen. “Over time, these elements gathered together, creating rich clouds of gas and dust. Nurseries where new generations of stars were born.” Small points of light began appearing in the clouds.

“Baby stars!” Saturn’s quiet exclamation caught Jupiter’s ear. His dear friend had always had a soft spot for young celestials, highlighted most recently by his 128 new moons, and had often been the first to meet new planets back when they were still forming. Unfortunately, his attention tended to wander after that, and given his past inability to name most of his moons, this remained true to this day. Still, it was sweet that this extended even to stars.

“They look so close to each other.” Uranus muttered, “I thought stars stayed away from each other?”

“Not all of them.” Was the Sun’s sole reply, staring stiffly ahead as the documentary continued on.

“And not just stars, but families of stars.” Masses of stars were glowing now. “The first galaxies.” 

“If galaxies are families for stars, why have we never met any of the others?” Jupiter found himself wondering aloud, only to regret it as the Sun flicked his hand off of his lap in response.

“Maybe they don’t want to talk to the Sun. It would make sense, given his usual personality.” Europa snarked quietly. Ganymede hummed in agreement, but Callisto just frowned.

“I still talk to you, despite your personality.” The darker moon hissed, so low Jupiter struggled to overhear them. “Anyway, I would be wary of making assumptions about this, we clearly don’t know the full story. Neither do the Earthlings.”

Stung by the rejection of his star, Jupiter didn’t know what to think. He could see this being a distance issue, or a simple misunderstanding of stars on his part. He could also see it being as Europa said, but admitting such a thing, even just to himself, felt like a profound betrayal of his star. Even if he was the rudest star out there, I would hope his ‘family’ would at least visit…

“And around this time, some of the earliest star systems formed in our own galaxy, the Milky Way.” The screen showed a young galaxy.

Mercury turned to the Sun with an open mouth, a question on his lips, but the Sun interrupted him with a hand. “No, I wasn’t around, and no, I don’t know anyone who was.”

‘Triple star system, Kepler-444’ appeared over the sight of three small, red stars. “A new age of complexity was dawning in the Universe. Now there were stars of different sizes, and different colours.”

“Do you know them?” Neptune piped up from the back, pointing to the three-star system. They didn’t look very similar to the Sun, but they were clearly stars, maybe even ones as old as the galaxy itself. 

“No.” The Sun’s definite answer aimed to shut down this line of questioning, but Jupiter wasn’t in the mood to let that happen.

“They look like red dwarfs. You once told me that those stars can live the longest.” His words elicited a harsh glare from his star, who proceeded to snap.

“SO? That doesn’t mean I KNOW THEM!” Jupiter forced himself not to shrink back at the anger from Sol, instead meeting his eyes squarely until the fury simmered down. “I don’t know them. End of discussion.” 

“And, crucially, new bodies had appeared,” The stars hung on the screen as small, dark forms transitioned past them. “Planets.”

“OH! It’s us!” Earth grinned, turning to his fellow rocky planets in excitement. 

“I don’t think that’s us.” Mars muttered, watching the screen. “For one thing, our star isn’t red.”

“No, I meant ‘us’ as in ‘planets in general’.” The living planet corrected with a laugh. “I didn’t think we would be mentioned at all in an episode about stars.”

“Planets are the goal of most stars. Of course you would be mentioned.” The Sun’s cold tone contrasted his words harshly. The revelation that planets were a goal, an ambition of stars, ignited a surprising amount of warmth in Jupiter. He had not seriously considered it before, but he could admit that it often felt like planets were a burden for his star, causing endless stress and worry. I wonder if he thinks we were worth it? Are still worth it?

“Places where the rich chemical elements built by previous generations of stars could finally find a home.” One rocky world passed close to the camera. 

“If every star death produces more heavy elements, do second gen stars and third gen stars have different types of planets? Because of the different amounts of elements?” Uranus’ question was met with profound silence. No celestial had an answer, and even the Sun remained quiet. In the end, it was the Earth that spoke up.

“I-I don’t think my Earthlings have found enough information to say for sure, but I’ve heard them suggest that gas giants are less likely to be found around second gen stars?” The living planet offered hesitantly, eyeing the Sun warily as he spoke. 

“I-I guess that’s something at least. Thanks, mate.”

All this new information was overwhelming Jupiter. He found it hard to imagine a planetary system without gas or ice giants like his friends. Given the attitudes of their own collection of rocky planets, he doubted those systems were peaceful. No, that’s mean…Mars is a bit more responsible, at least.

“Countless billions of stars have come and gone since those first giants illuminated the darkness, each enriching the Universe with the material out of which the next generation formed.” Brian was standing before a sunset, making it a bit difficult to look directly at him. “Blue stars and white stars, single stars, double stars, even triple star systems orbiting around each other.”

“Are double or triple stars rare?” Pluto asked, popping up from his little group to stare at the Sun. Unfortunately, Sol did not seem willing to entertain any more questions.

“I wouldn’t think so, given how many stars there are. Some of them must have partnered up.” Eris joined in, frowning in thought. 

“Oh! It would be so awesome to see two stars at once.” Haumea stammered, smiling shyly at the thought. 

“Um, I fear such a system would be profoundly unstable for us dwarf planets, and even planets!” Makemake corrected, but the grin remained on his face. “Best to just have one star, I reckon.”

“Too many stars-really mess up orbits. But-one star is good!” A deep red dwarf planet, who Jupiter didn’t recognise, spoke up quietly, her words broken up and oddly pronounced. “Heliospheres are-blessing. The radiation is so…-out there!” Her voice peaked as she shivered at the thought.

“The conditions were now right for those stars to drive the Universe into a new and profound age of complexity.” The music flared over the sunset, before the screen faded to black. 

“So, stars are the main characters of the Universe?” Earth’s unintelligible comment stumped Jupiter for a second, before he understood what the living planet was trying to say.

“I would be hesitant to call any one celestial type the ‘main character’ of the Universe.” The gas giant suggested. “We are all celestials, even if we differ in mass and composition-”

“Does that apply to moons too?” Ganymede’s harsh cut-in caught Jupiter off guard, but he recovered quickly enough to offer the moon a placating smile. 

“Of course, Ganymede.” His moon seemed to hesitate, studying him with an unusual intensity, before seemingly coming to a conclusion. The moon nodded, hiding his eyes from the giant and removing any hope Jupiter had of reading what that conclusion might be. 

Between Ganymede’s odd behaviour and the Sun’s quickly devolving temper, Jupiter could only see an exhausting watch ahead of them. And out of the corner of his eye, he was additionally reminded of the ice giant problem, as Uranus had now moved his bean bag closer to Planet X. The two were speaking quietly to each other, and Neptune was watching with a conflicted, and confused, expression. I’ll have to deal with that…maybe after the Sun is a bit calmer, and Ganymede stops saying rebellious things within earshot. Stars…I really could use that nap right about now.

Chapter Text

Whatever calm Jupiter’s mind longed for, he was clearly not going to get it anytime soon. For being only halfway through the first episode, Jupiter was immensely distressed to realise he was already flanging. In the last documentary, he’d at least had the stress of waiting for his own episode to come around to keep him awake. But now, he couldn’t even predict the next episode, let alone the rest of them. 

In the dark pause after the Earthling’s last statement, the rest of the room had taken to muttering to each other, so quietly that Jupiter couldn’t hear most of it. His own moons were oddly silent, exchanging glances and making faces. Jupiter was far too tired to puzzle his way through this silent communication they seemed to have developed when he wasn’t looking. As the chatter fizzled out, the screen resumed, pulling the darkness back to reveal an Oort cloud.

‘4.6 billion years ago’ faded onto the dark screen. A proto-star was shown, flashing slowly and dimly in the midst of an Oort cloud. “Our Sun was formed from the ashes of generations of ancestors.”

“Baby pictures again ?” Uranus' incredulous comment was mostly ignored by the room, save for a few chuckles. Jupiter was far more focused on the star, who had turned his gaze to the floor with an expression lined with tension. The proto-star on the screen flickered, then burst into light, bringing a bit more light to the dim room.

“Just one small star in a galaxy of billions of brilliant gods.” The new-born Sun was surrounded on all sides by the empty clouds. “For the first million years of its life, the Sun was virtually alone, wreathed in clouds of gas and dust.”

Thanks to the previous documentary, Jupiter was aware that the Earthlings suspected he was already forming before the Sun even ignited, but he had no memory of this. His absolute earliest images were of a warm, impossibly bright young star, smiling softly at him from across a vast void of dust. Sol had seemed so much older than him, so much more powerful, that Jupiter had implicitly trusted him. And that trust had evolved into a deep respect, and fear of ever disappointing his star. A fear that drove me to hide so much.

As the Earthling spoke, the gas giant realised that it had not even crossed his mind that while Sol was the first face he’d ever seen, Jupiter might have also been Sol’s. At the very least, his star had not spoken to anyone but his planets for as long as Jupiter could remember. Even the Earthlings seemed to believe his star never knew anyone else. But, he mentioned a second-gen star? So surely, at some point before my awakening, he knew another star.

“I thought stars were born in nebulae with lots of other stars? Why was Sun alone?” Luna’s quiet question to his planet wasn’t as unheard as he’d probably hoped for, given the silence of the room. Sol tensed at Jupiter’s side, shrinking into himself as the question lingered in the air.

“...I-I was formed in a nebulae.” The Sun began reluctantly, still refusing to raise his head, and his voice stayed low and uncertain. The room greeted this unexpected answer with their full, undivided attention on their star. “I-I don’t know how many stars were there, but we were flung apart by a-”

The Sun’s words stuttered to silence and he seemed to be fighting his voice just to keep talking. Jupiter’s intense curiosity urged him to ask quietly, “What happened?”

“One…One of the stars, an older, larger star, she-” Sol took a breath, “She went s-supernova.”

The room’s silence continued, but Jupiter was far more caught up in his own mind, trying to picture what Sol was describing. Supernova. That’s what we saw earlier, with the first star. He watched a star die in front of him?

“The blast p-probably helped me to ignite, but it pushed me away from the group…” The Sun added hastily, trying to sound more animated but falling flat as he finished the explanation. 

Jupiter wasn’t sure what to make of this. It…it made a lot of sense, given the few things he knew about his star. If the supernova pushed him away from the local group, and all stars were also orbiting the Milky Way centre at varying speeds, he’d likely never encounter another star in his whole lifetime. 

“Why didn’t you try to follow the others? Or go back?” Saturn asked softly, a confused frown on his face as he watched his star.

“I couldn’t! You-you guys were just starting to form! I couldn’t risk hurting you!” The Sun insisted, distressed by the mere suggestion. As much as Jupiter was aware of the Sun’s anxiety around destroyed planets, and even understood it to an extent, he’d never really known the cause of it. Even before his Grand Tack, Sol had been insistent about orbits and movements. I guess he’s always had this anxiety about it.

“The dust slowly clumped together, forming clusters the size of pebbles, then boulders,” The images from the last series, of rocks colliding and merging with each other, passed by the screen. “And finally, planets.”

Equipped with the new knowledge that his own formation may have prevented his star from ever seeing another of his kind again, Jupiter felt oddly guilty. While the screen displayed the rest of the planets slowly forming, Jupiter tried to ignore this new feeling, determined to stay focused. 

“I wonder if every star gets planets like this, or if some…” Mercury trailed off with a nervous look towards the Sun. Jupiter could guess what he was thinking about. Do some stars move anyway? And destroy their planets without knowing? Or without caring?

“But the planets were lifeless rocks.” A rocky planet’s surface was shown bombarded by meteorites. “Only the Sun had the power to turn them into worlds.”

“Um, I object to this continued insistence that I am a lifeless rock.” Mars frowned at the screen. “All of last time they kept calling me a dead rock, and now they’re doing it again.”

“And just like last time, I’m sure they’re only referring to your lack of Life, not your actual existence, dude.” Earth responded with an amused sigh, “It’s not that serious.”

“Maybe to you! They’re not exactly going to call you ‘lifeless’!” Venus added with a sneer. 

“I’m pretty sure they just did. They’re referring to Earth before he had Life, at least.” Luna put in, indicating to the screen.

“My point still stands.”

“No, it doesn’t!”

“Some were too far away from the Sun.” Saturn’s great ringed form filled the screen, hovering over his cloud formations. The screen slowly changed to show Neptune and his moon, Triton. “Ice giants- frozen, seemingly, into infertility.”

“Neptune! Triton!” Neptune’s little collection of moons cheered heartily at the five-second image of the moon next to Neptune. 

“Why the ‘seemingly’?” Uranus asked, frowning at the screen. “We’re not exactly about to start hosting Life all of a sudden.”

“I believe that would be in reference to the various moons.” Planet X spoke slowly, “I heard that a few of them might have Life?”

“Yeah, the Earthling, Astrodude, he found some microorganisms in my oceans.” Titan explained to catch X up. Jupiter was glad to see X interacting with more celestials. At least this documentary experience will be good for something.

“Others formed too close to the Sun, seared by a relentless light.” Mercury was now on the screen. “They became scorched desert worlds.”

“Charming.” Mercury commented dryly. 

“But there was a planet in the Sun’s family that quite by chance formed neither too close nor too far away.” The camera slowly panned to reveal the Earth’s blue-green surface, lit by the Sun’s light. “An Arcadia where our star could breathe Life into dust.”

“Ah, of course, the usual ‘Earth is Best’ speech.” Venus sighed with a tone of resignation. Earth just rolled his eyes at the cloudy planet.  

“What does ‘Arcadia’ even mean?” Deimos asked, poking up from Mars’ bean bag. “It sounds like a name. I thought your name was ‘Earth’?”

“It’s not a name. At least, it’s not my name! But it is the name of a place on my surface.” Earth corrected, then explained, “I think they were referring to the mythological meaning, though. It means a ‘pastoral place of harmony with nature’, usually.”

“I wouldn’t use ‘harmony’ to describe you, in most contexts.” Mars snarked playfully while Earth just laughed.

“The planets are just the leftovers from the formation of stars.” Brian was sitting ominously in the dark, barely visible except for the fire he was sitting near. “The sort of debris, if you like. It’s just little specks orbiting around those magnificent flames.”

“He’s so reverent of us.” Planet X sneered sarcastically, then tossed a grin at Uranus. “I can see what you mean about the disrespect.”

“Well, he’s not lying. We are leftovers, in a very real sense.” Jupiter decided to interject, hoping to change the approach Planet X had been taking to the Earthling’s words. “Brian is not being intentionally rude.”

“Whatever.”

“But the planets are also the places in the Universe where gravity has concentrated the heavy elements built by previous generations of stars.” The fire was larger than Jupiter had initially thought, piled high with angled sticks. “And that makes the planets the canvas on which the stars can create.”

“So we’re just little art projects for stars, then?” Uranus’ reductionist statement seemed to light the Sun’s eyes with outrage. 

“NO! Well-No, definitely not!” The Sun insisted loudly, “I mean, I don’t know about other stars, but you guys are my planets! Not an art project!”

The sentiment was sweet, in a strange way, and Jupiter gave his star a hopeful smile. It did make Jupiter consider other planetary systems, however, and he wasn’t a fan of the implications. Whole systems being set up and torn down by an uncaring god as they tried to craft a perfect world. I suppose we’re lucky our star is …relatively kind.

“‘The canvas on which the stars can create.’ What do I mean by that?” Brian asked the camera rhetorically, “Well, just look around. Everywhere you look on Earth, there is complexity.”

“If he insists that planets are canvas, then you, Earth, are certainly a unique one.” Sol muttered to the living planet, who looked over in surprise at the words. Jupiter nodded to himself in agreement with the star. It certainly feels like a unique miracle that we were able to keep so many rocky planets alive, let alone one with Life.

“Do you mean ‘unique’ in a nice way, or in a ‘saving his feelings’ way?” Venus’ snarky addition was met with an elbow to the chest from Mars.

“Not only mountains and rivers, but living things, animals and planets, human beings, human civilisation, the most complex thing we know of anywhere in the Universe.” The fire blazed beside the Earthling as he spoke. “So you have to ask yourself, how can it be that such complexity can emerge completely naturally in the Universe?” 

“Luck? Lots of water and waiting around?” A dwarf planet spoke up, a dark, almost reddish surface covering their ringed form. “I’m afraid I don’t know too much about all this Life business. It sounds nice, though.” 

“I think the Earthling is probably hinting towards drivers of complexity in our Universe. Like chance and thermodynamics.” Makemake suggested to his fellow dwarf planet. “Just think, Quaoar, how much energy all that Life must have taken to even begin. How many random chances!”

“You know I’m not the thinkin’ type.” Quaoar, apparently, joked. 

“Entropy!” Ceres grinned with a laugh, looking at Makemake expectantly. The pinkish dwarf planet just smiled back.

“Yes, Entropy. It’s truly fascinating how-” The ramble was cut off by Pluto and Eris jointly placing a hand over Makemake’s mouth. Jupiter half expected the words to continue regardless, but the dwarf planet seemed to have taken the hint.

“Well, the answer, in fact, was known in the 19th century, and it comes from the science of thermodynamics.” The embers of the fire rose into the night, reminding Jupiter of a star-filled sky. 

“Ah! I was right-” Makemake’s faint exclamation was also quietly smothered by the dwarf planet group.

“How long ago was the ‘19th century’?” Titan asked the Earth with a confused frown. “I can’t tell if that’s impressive without a timescale.”

“Uh, roughly 125 of my years, so…” The Earth’s brow crinkled in thought. “About 4? 4.2? Of Saturn’s orbits.”

“So…not very long ago at all?” Titan queried. 

“I mean, not to us. But that’s at least a few human generations dead and gone in that time.” Earth corrected. 

“In the 19th century, people were interested in the efficiency of steam engines, and steam engines are, after all, the machines that powered the factories that allowed people to build increasingly complex things.” Brian explained to the camera. “And it turns out that the only thing that matters for a steam engine…” The Earthling laid out how the difference in temperature between the fire of the furnace and the cold environment it was in, determined the efficiency of the engine.

“They have found a way to harness steam?” Iapetus asked in interest, “What have they done with it? What do these ‘factories’ do?”

“Um, they mostly make things? I can’t think of an example right now, but they use the steam engines to power big machines that crush or create things. They used to be really simple, but it’s gotten a lot more complicated recently.” Luna tried to answer, glancing at his planet for a comment. The Earth just shrugged.

“That’s about as simple as I could explain it.” The living planet assured his moon.

“Well, it certainly sounds complicated.” Iapetus muttered.

“In the Universe, the stars are hot spots in a cold sky. We are sitting, in a very real sense, inside a giant steam engine, powered by the furnace of the Sun.” The sparks flew wildly across the inky blackness. “And it’s in that sense that the stars are the creators of complexity in the Universe.”

“I’M A FURNACE!” The Sun laughed loudly, ginning at the screen. “Your Earthlings sure are funny, Earth!”

“I don’t think that was a joke.” Mars’ quiet comment went unheard by the star, but the rocky planets definitely caught it, judging by the grins on their faces.

Jupiter tried to focus on the Earthling’s words. His suggestion that all complexity was driven by the energy difference between a star and space intrigued the gas giant. He was well aware of how vital heat, and even just energy in general, was to things such as molecular bonds. The previous part of this very episode had made it starkly clear how important the heat from a star was in all elements of creation. Without energy, no new elements would form, and in turn, the Universe would never have seen the Life Earth was able to nurture. It truly is fascinating that any of us exist at all.

“But creating complexity is a subtle art. You need an engine -in this case, a star- that’s not too wild and flashy.” Brian explained gently. “A star which is consistent enough for long enough to kindle the sparks of Life, and allow those sparks to flicker and flourish.”

“Are lots of stars as volatile as those first few?” Neptune asked the star. “Why aren’t most stars like you?”

“The bigger the star, the shorter the lifespan.” Sol stated plainly, “I’m…a little on the small side for a yellow star. My mass gives me about 10 billion years, but a larger star may only get 2-4 billion.”

“And those red dwarfs…?” Uranus added.

“They live a very long time indeed.” Sol said solemnly, “But they burn very faintly, maybe so faint that Life would be impossible on their planets.”

“The most important property of a star, if it’s to nurture a civilization, is magnificent dependability.” The screen slowly passed over the Sun. 

“Dependability isn’t the word I’d use.” Venus’ comment only earned him a second elbow to the chest.

“From the sounds of it, the Sun is very calm, at least compared to most stars.” Mercury muttered.

“Maybe not all the time, but often enough for Earth’s little creatures.” Mars agreed.

As much as he was painfully aware of the Sun’s outbursts, he had to agree with Brian. His star had been a stable centre of the Solar System for as long as he’d been alive. Maybe not by the standards of a planet, but seemingly by the standards of stars, he was very consistent and calm. If other stars out there were burning up quickly or scorching their worlds, Jupiter was glad his star wasn’t so massive as to do that. It would be interesting to meet those red dwarfs, though, with their slow burning and vast ages. They would be fascinating to talk to.

‘3.5 billion years ago’ faded above a murky sight of water, clouds of material floating upwards and rocky structures emerging from the gloom. “No-one knows exactly how Life on Earth emerged, but what we do know is that at some point, primitive cells living in the ocean began using the Sun’s energy to power life-giving chemical reactions.”

“They use sunlight?” Proteus asked excitedly, looking up at the screen as he tried to balance on the edge of the bean bag. “That’s so cool! How do they do it?”

“I’m sure the Earthling will tell us!” Neptune smiled at his moon. Beside him, Triton merely frowned at Proteus’ precarious position.

“Not if you don’t sit down, they won’t.” The largest Neptunian moon added, tugging Proteus back onto the bean bag.

“These cells formed a bridge between Earth and Sun,” The small, green cells floated before the camera. “Delicate engines which harness the fires of our star, using sunlight to turn carbon dioxide and water into food.”

“I thought element creation was ‘star-only’ stuff?” Mercury asked, eyeing the little green cells warily. “How are they making ‘food’ like that?”

“Well, they’re not really making elements, just compounds.” Earth corrected. 

“Good. They could never match the powers of a star!” The Sun’s exclamation was quickly ruined by Earth’s chuckle.

“Oh, they worked out element creation a while ago, actually.” The living planet grinned. “They even made elements with higher neutron densities than anything they’ve seen a star make.”

Sol’s outraged expression sobered the blue-green planet momentarily, but Jupiter had a feeling he’d been waiting to say that little fact for a while. 

“This process, known as photosynthesis, unleashed the Sun’s creative power,” Brian was now walking through a forest of green, branches dipping so low as to impede his path, and leaves of all shades glowing in the sunlight. “And drove the evolution of complexity from primitive bacteria, to plants and trees.”

“So, without the sunlight, your Earthlings wouldn’t have had the energy to evolve?” Titan asked curiously, looking highly intrigued by the concept. 

“I mean, they might have been able to use my internal heat, but it wouldn’t have given them nearly as much energy. So, like Makemake said earlier, it’s thermodynamics, and random chance, and Entropy, and all that.” Earth concluded dismissively. 

“Do you even know what Entropy means?” Venus sounded incredulous at the very idea. 

“Yeah, I do, actually.” Earth snarked back, and Jupiter felt a fight coming along that he didn’t have the energy to mediate. "All Life is just the result of random changes and variations, and nothing is more important than that for evolution. Entropy can cause the random chances, and evolution sharpens it."

"Nerd!-"

“Both of you, quiet.” He sighed, stopping Venus in his tracks as he opened his mouth for some snappy comeback.

“And, ultimately,” The camera spun around Brian as he stood atop a rocky ledge, overlooking the forest below. “To you and me.”

“Not me, that’s for sure.” Ganymede’s dark muttering was really starting to get on Jupiter’s magnetosphere. 

“Yes, you as well. None of us would have formed without the Sun, and so, in a way, we are also just as reliant on him as those Earthling plants.” Jupiter corrected, trying to sound confident enough in this that Ganymede might rethink his rebellious words during this documentary. 

Ganymede scowled at him, breaking apart Jupiter's foolish hope that his hard-crusted moon would be so easily swayed. I need to get to the bottom of why he’s feeling like this. I thought things were going relatively well.

“Photosynthesis is a process that’s very easy to describe…” Brian explained that plants used sunlight’s energy to react carbon dioxide and water with each other, creating energy in the form of sugars and the waste product, oxygen “...Really easy to say, very difficult to do.”

“Oh, so they’re just breaking apart the bonds between the different elements, not building new ones.” Mercury smiled in understanding, then asked, “How did they work it out?”

“Oh, um…I don’t believe these Earthlings have worked it out completely yet, but they suspect it was two different organisms, coming together in endosymbiosis, and one of those organisms was a type of photosynthetic bacteria, cyanobacteria. There’s actually been a few different reactions that early life tried to use, but the oxygen-producing one stuck, I guess.” The Earth happily explained, then added in a quieter tone with a hint of annoyance, “Then they used the oxygen to freeze me into a snowball.”

“Into a what?” Mars questioned.

“Don’t worry about it, dude.”

“I mean, there’s a part of that photosynthetic machinery, everything you see here, every plant on the planet’s got a photosystem, too. ” Brian waved a hand at the vast forest surrounding his small perch. “It’s comprised of 46,630 atoms, all working together in an intricate machine. Very efficient. It took billions of years of evolution.”

“It is certainly impressive what time and the Sun's energy can achieve.” Jupiter praised, casting a glance at his star. The Sun seemed far calmer after this brief respite away from the sensitive topic of stars.

“I must agree, Jupiter.” His star smiled at the greenery on screen. “These ‘plants’ are quickly becoming my favourite of your Earthlings, Earth.”

“Well, if I’d have known you’d like them so much, I’d have told you about all this sooner.” The living planet grinned. “And hey! Maybe you could read some of my books on the subject!” The complications of this seemed to dawn on the planet pretty quickly. “Or Jupiter could read them to you? He’s got a great reading voice, believe me.”

Jupiter didn’t appreciate being put on the spot like that, but seeing his star actually consider the living world’s proposal, a seed of hope sprouted in his core. If reading science books is what it’ll take to fix this rift, I’d gladly do it.

“Then we eat the plants, or we eat something that’s eaten the plants and we do the reverse reaction.” Brian’s grin after that statement unsettled Jupiter. “We take those sugars and we breathe in that waste product, oxygen, react them together, release a bit of energy, a bit of the stored sunlight, if you like, and we use that energy to maintain our structure, to grow, to live.”

“THEY EAT THEM!” The Sun exclaimed in horror. 

“Oh, I forgot that’s kinda a foreign concept anywhere but Earth’s surface.” Luna grimaced. “It took me a while to get over it too, don’t worry.”

“They…eat…them…” The Sun’s whispered dismay seemed to amuse the Earth. 

Jupiter had read enough Earthling books to be acquainted with their strange ‘food’. The concept was quite odd to a celestial, who usually associated the act of taking ‘nutrients’ from another as a form of tragedy, not a day-to-day activity. Though, we do ignore meteorites in a similar way, I suppose. 

“Does everything living on your surface get eaten?” Saturn asked with a queasy expression. Earth just laughed lightly, and Jupiter wished he would stop if only to prevent Saturn from throwing up on him.

“Yep! Entire phylum have evolved just to eat dead things. And most creatures have to eat either plants or other animals to survive at all. It’s the Circle of Life!” Earth’s cheery attitude to this did not improve Saturn’s complexion.

“Trillions of stars have existed since the Universe began, but ours has nurtured that most miraculous thing, Life.” Brian now scaled a rocky hill, looking out at the beautiful sunset. “And that makes the Sun a truly remarkable star.”

“Ugh, if your Life is that bloodthirsty, maybe I don’t want to take credit for it anymore.” The Sun muttered at the screen. 

“Aww, don’t be like that, Sun. I think it’s awesome how much my Life has been able to do thanks to you!” The Earth smiled at the star, who met his gaze with a flicker of surprise. “The humans have even worked out how to get greener energy from you, just like the plants!”

It was good to hear that his Earthlings were actually making progress towards a more sustainable existence. Jupiter had heard only snippets of the living world’s difficulties with the rampant CO2 emissions and mineral extraction his inhabitants had been plaguing him with recently, but even those had sounded deplorable.

“That is the only star we know anywhere where there are collections of atoms in orbits around it, you and me, that have named it.” Brian was standing so close to the setting Sun, Jupiter had to squint to see him. “The Sun, our Sun.”

“Did they name you?” Neptune’s question vividly reminded the room of their previous, inconclusive argument about this. “We never reached an answer about that, did we?”

“Mate, at this point, I think we just have to accept it as a whim of the Universe.” Uranus sighed, disheartened. “And the Universe has a sense of humour, apparently.”

“I do think it’s sweet that the Earthlings think they named the Sun.” Saturn smiled at his side, adding with a sigh, “They sound so fond of him.”

“We’ve worshiped it, deified it since the dawn of history.” The Earthling spoke with awe. “In fact, it’s been argued that the Sun lies at the foundation of all religion, and there may be some truth in that.” 

“Wow, they glossed over their own planet in favour of the Sun.” Venus laughed, and the Earth frowned at the cloudy planet in irritation.

“Hey-”

“Well, regardless of your Earthlings’ awful habit of eating each other, at least they pay proper respect to their star!” Sol spoke over the Earth’s reply, “Don’t take it per-sun-ally, Earth. They just know a star when they see one!”

“Sure, Sun, whatever you say.”

“In fact, I think there is a deep truth in that, because we all owe our existence, this brief time we have in the Universe, to that star.” Brian pointed at the sunset. “In fact, in a deeper sense, to all the stars.” 

“If we all owe our existence to stars, and all stars came from that ‘Cosmic Web’ from the beginning…” Pluto pondered, “Does that mean we owe our existence to dark matter as well?”

“If you really want to get that specific about it, we owe our existence to whatever caused or made the Big Bang. And if we knew that, we’d have to work out what made that as well.” Makemake speculated out loud. “It truly is an infinite question!”

“Guys, I think the Earthling was just talking about themselves, and how the energy from the Sun helped them evolve.” Eris’ deadpan voice cut into her companions' conversation. “Not the origin of the Universe.”

“It is-still a good question!” The deep red dwarf planet from earlier spoke up, sounding more confident now. “I would-be v-very interested in-the answer.” 

“Sorry, Sedna, we might be waiting a while for that, honestly.” Pluto apologised with a smile. 

“We don’t need to invent imaginary gods to explain the Universe. We can replace them with the real thing.” The music swelled as the camera moved away from the Earthling, revealing more of the sunset and surrounding mountain. 

“Hmm, Sun-worship seems like a bad idea to me.” Europa whispered to her fellow Galilean moons. 

“I-I mean, i-if it’s just t-the Earthlings, I-I don’t see t-the harm in it?” Io countered nervously. 

“Given how much these Earthlings have influenced our own existence, even our celestial forms, I see the harm in it.” Europa responded, indicating to the humanoid bodies they currently possessed when away from their physical forms. 

“Impacting how we look is far different from influencing how we think.” Callisto offered in a bored tone. “Unless…you are so easily swayed by meat-creatures less than two metres in diameter?”

“Of course not!”

“Everyone we love, everything we value,” Images of Earthlings like Brian were seen, going about their days, lit by the light of the Sun. Glimpses of Earthling buildings were silhouetted by the sunset. “Our supreme accomplishments as a civilization were created and crafted by stars.”

“Damn, Earth, those boxy things are all over the place.” Uranus squinted at the screen to see them better. It was odd to get such a stark look at what these Earthlings have been building on the living planet. 

“Yeah, but the big ones like those are usually only in big cities, not all over the place.” Earth shrugged to the pale ice giant. “I don’t mind them, they’re actually kinda cool sometimes. They’ve even been trying to make them immune to earthquakes! Isn’t that amazing? They use-”

“We got the picture, dude.” Mars slowly removed his hand once he was confident the Earth wasn’t going to keep rambling. The living planet shot him a glare.

“The Earthlings clearly love you, Sun.” Jupiter quietly tried, looking to his star, and was gratified to receive a smile in return. 

“They are very cute.” The Sun admitted, then added in a lower tone, “Don’t tell Earth I said that!”

Jupiter only nodded, a warm feeling curling in his core, happy that Sol was joking with him again

The screen finished on one last shot of Sol, before fading to the Milky Way. “There are over 200 billion stars in our galaxy, and there are two trillion galaxies in the observable Universe. We’re living in the Age of Stars, an era of light and life in the cosmos.”

“Sounds better than the Age of Darkness, at least.” Ariel commented, still leaning precariously from Uranus’ bean bag seat. Titania sported a tired expression and one hand placed firmly at Ariel’s back, preventing her from falling off.

The warm feeling in his core continued as they watched beautiful stars light up the darkness of space with colourful nebulae birthing new stars scattered throughout. Jupiter felt suddenly grateful that he had been formed during this Age of Light. 

“From our fleeting human perspective, stars seem eternal.” The spiralling arms of the galaxy floated across the screen, billions of stars within, before fading to black. “But even gods are not immortal.”

The sudden, ominous tone shift startled the gas giant, and he frowned at the screen with trepidation. At his sides, Saturn and Sol both stiffened in similar reactions of surprise. 

The dark of the screen shrouded the whole room, hiding the faces of the other celestials from Jupiter’s eyes. He recalled something the Earthling mentioned at the beginning of this episode, ‘ And how will it all end?’. The statement had sounded intriguing at the time, but now Jupiter was reluctant to know of it. But, we have no choice…unless I actually try breaking the walls, I guess?

“Where there is light, there is darkness.” The darkness was slowly scattered with pinpricks of light. “Stars are creators, but they can be jealous guardians of their creations.”

“Why? If I made something cool, I’d want to share it!” Proteus pouted at the screen in confusion. 

“Would you still want to share it if doing so would take it away from you forever?” Planet X asked carefully.

“Why would it do that?”

“Well, Proteus, a star gives the Universe its creations as it dies, and it will never see the fate of any molecule.” Planet X explained in his deep voice. Proteus considered his words in silence, struck still by this new consideration.

“Many smaller stars don’t die in spectacular explosions. Instead, they slowly fade away.” 

“Isn’t the Sun a ‘smaller star’?” Earth asked in his best attempt at a quiet voice, Jupiter presumed. Sadly, this was not quiet at all.

“Yes. I am.” The Sun’s short, angry reply quelled the living planet, but the rest of the room still looked intrigued. As the documentary continued, Jupiter’s core churned with apprehension, sensing the direction of speculation the Earthling was headed down.

“They hang on to the precious elements they made, becoming fossil stars,” A dark, dense form appeared on the screen. “And as more fossils litter the Universe, more life-giving elements remain locked away, starving the cosmos of the material needed to make new generations of stars.”

“Sooo…small stars are dead-ends, then?” Uranus questioned, checking his understanding against the expressions of the other celestials present. It seemed such a sad end point for so many wonderful creations, locked away forever in the body of a dead star, and never to ignite a new one or kindle Life on a planet.

“Does it only take three generations to reach such a point?” Jupiter couldn’t help but ask, confused by the low number. Sol frowned in confusion at his words, before widening his eyes in understanding.

“Oh, no, the third/second gen labels aren't denoting how many stars came before. I could be the descendant of 2 prior stars, but I’m just as likely to be the descendant of 6.” The Sun corrected, seemingly glad to have something to explain that isn’t on the screen. “Either way, stars are created wherever there is dense enough hydrogen, so even a star who will only shed their outer layers, like me, could still contribute to a new star.”

“So how long will it take for no more stars to form?” Ariel asked curiously. 

“I think the documentary will tell us, if the Earthlings even know the answer.” Titania sighed at her side, watching the screen with disinterest. 

“The Age of Stars may seem infinite, but it had a beginning and it will also have an end.” The camera panned over a river delta, bordered by mountains and filled with black soil. 

“Ominous.” Venus muttered slowly, before snapping, “This episode has been full of this stuff. Just get to the point!”

“He is getting to it. He’s making it interesting, building suspense!” Mercury corrected the cloudy planet, who tossed him a withering glare.

“I don’t care what he’s building, Pipsqueak, I’m tired of it!”

“Imagine a timeline of the Universe and imagine that this is the origin of the Universe. The Big Bang, 13.8 billion years ago.” Brian pointed to a small red flag planted in the soil. “After 100 million years or so, the first stars formed.” He moved to another red flag close to the first. “On this scale, one centimetre is about 20 million years.”

“This Brian guy really loves his scale models.” Mars sighed, and Jupiter was reminded of the previous one that demonstrated the distances between the planets. Hopefully this one includes less squinting at a dark screen, trying to see what he’s even doing.

“This one is quite different from that one. For one thing, it’s a timeline model, not a scale model.” Makemake piped up with a grin, “For another thing-”

“I think just ‘the one thing’ is fine, dude.” Pluto shushed, trying to refocus his friend on the screen. Makemake sighed with a smile and settled back down, rolling his eyes playfully.

“After 4 billion years, the peak rate of star formation occurred. The maximum number of new stars were born.” He moved a few feet to yet another red flag. “After 9 billion years, our Sun was born.” Again, he moved forward to touch a new flag. 

“Wait, we’re already past the peak?” Earth exclaimed in surprise, a tone of distress leaking in and frowning his face. “And the Sun wasn’t even born yet?”

“I already told you, I’m a Population I star. I’m relatively new, compared to many smaller stars, at least.” The Sun scowled at the living planet’s confusion. “What did you think that meant?”

“I don’t know, I guess I didn’t expect the max number of stars to have already passed.” The Earth explained in exasperation, nervously threading his hands together. The Sun seemed to notice this as Jupiter did.

“You need not worry about it.” The Sun dismissed with a vague wave. “New stars are still being born. It will take many more years for that to end entirely.”

Thinking of the Sun as young was a hard concept for Jupiter to wrap his head around. The Sun was older than him and Jupiter considered himself relatively old already. I certainly feel old.

“And today we stand, 13.8 billion years later, about halfway through the lifetime of our Sun.” He grasped another flag, facing the camera. “Now, in about 5 billion years time, our Sun will die, but new stars will be born and many of the oldest stars in the Universe, the smaller stars, will continue to shine.”

“You said stars like you can contribute to new stars. Is that likely?” Saturn asked the Sun hesitantly, searching the star’s face for an answer. 

“...Not super likely, no. I’m a bit far away from other stars, and nowhere near large enough to produce anything more than a small planetary nebula when I die.” Sol confessed with a strained expression, seemingly reluctant to admit this even to himself. “Maybe, in the distant future, my atoms will find their way into a new star, but it is not guaranteed.” 

“In fact, we think the last star will cease to shine, the Universe will go dark, in around 10 trillion years.” Brian was now a significant distance from the other red flags. “On this scale, that’s about 5,000 meters away from the Big Bang.”

“When he shows it like that, the Universe seems kinda…young? Relatively.” Mercury tilted his head at the screen. Mars leaned over to nudge the Earth.

“See, you don’t need to worry about the end of all stars, that’s clearly ages away!” The red planet teased lightly.

“Who said I was worrying about it?” The living planet shot back defensively, but was quickly drowned out by Mars’ moons loudly arguing.

“No, I am so going to see it, just you wait!”

“Bro, the SUN won’t even see it, why would you be able to?” Phobos snapped in exasperation. “Anyway, I’ll be the one to see it, if either of us are!”

“WHAT! Why?” 

“But that’s not the end of the Universe.” Brian cheerfully explained. “As far as we know, the Universe will continue expanding forever.”

“As just darkness?” Dione’s uncertain comment caught Jupiter’s ear from her position next to Saturn. “Nothing will happen after?”

“I-I suppose not.” Tethys frowned at the screen nervously, fidgeting with the bean bag they were sitting on. 

“Will planets and moons still be around? You know, since we can’t really die like a star can?” Titan asked aloud, glancing up at his own planet for a second.

“We can still die, dumbass.” Enceladus snapped, agitated by the morbid line of conversion from his fellow moons. “And anyway, a planet without a star will probably go mad. Too much time away from light does things to ya’.”

“True, there does seem to be a correlation between starlight and sanity, but I would not jump to such conclusions just yet.” Iapetus suggested with a bored expression, glancing at the ice giants. “Even those on the fringes of our system do not always follow that pattern.”

“Just ‘cause the new guy can remember his own name consistently, does not mean he is sane.” Dione cut in with a harsh whisper. “I’ve heard him say some odd stuff already. Who knows how crazy he is?”

“Guys, this isn’t a productive conversation. Whether or not we’ll all go mad in the darkness of eternity is not a current or preventable issue.” Phoebe countered, pushing into the conversion with a scowl. “And, you’re upsetting Rhea.”

The irregular moon indicated to her fellow, who was listening into the conversion with a panicked, strained expression. The other moons muttered quick apologies before refocusing on the screen.

“And so the Age of Starlight is the briefest moment of time in the infinite history of the Universe.” Brian was still walking. “The Age of Darkness will go on and on and on.”

“Joyful.” Planet X’s sarcastic comment pinged around the dense silence of the room. “I can’t wait. At least we’ll have something to look forward to.”

“Aww, don’t worry, Planet W! I’m sure we’ll have forgotten about it soon, it’s soo far away from now.” Neptune grinned at the darker ice giant, appearing unconcerned by this ‘Age of Darkness’. 

“Maybe you will.” Planet X sneered at the dopey smile Neptune had presented him with. “From what I’ve heard, your memory is atrocious! And the name’s X!”

Without a change in his expression, Neptune shrugged in reply to X and turned back to the screen. Uranus watched this unfold with a conflicted expression, glancing between the two rapidly. 

“Stars won’t just disappear, of course. They’ll be here for aeons to come. But, over time, the Universe will grow darker, colder, and emptier.”

At Jupiter’s side, Saturn gently reached out to place a hand in the other gas giant’s, fearful eyes fixed on the screen. His voice was quiet and pained as he spoke. “It sounds so…awful.”

Jupiter could find no better word for it, despite how he prided himself on his literacy; this time, directness seemed to do the trick. It was awful. Awful to imagine a cold Universe filled with starless celestials and fossil stars, endless and unchanging till eternity. I…I fear such a fate would be worse than any collision-caused death. Maybe one day I would consider it a mercy.

At his other side, the Sun was crying. It wasn’t obvious, at least not to anyone but his oldest planets. But, the way he was shielding his face, the faint trails of steam creeping from his face, and the low, humming edge to his fusion reactions, all told Jupiter that his star was in distress. And, one again, he offered his hand.

“There are stars around today that existed close to the beginning of the Age of Stars,” The screen was filled with darkness, only to be lit by a faint red light. “And some of them will also witness the end.”

“Damn, that must suck.” Ganymede muttered in front of Jupiter’s bean bag. The other Galilean moons nodded in agreement.

“I-I can’t imagine b-being stuck, w-watching every other s-star live and d-die before you!” Io cried out in sympathy, turning to Callisto. “Can you?”

“I imagine it would get pretty boring.” She replied in her usual monotone way, the permanent frown on her face only minutely deepening. 

“They’re the longest lived stars in the Universe, red dwarfs.” The screen told them that the star shown was ‘Trappist-1’. 

“Wow, they really are faint.” Uranus’ quiet comment reminded Jupiter of the Sun’s earlier mention of these ‘red dwarf stars’. Tiny stars, living for an eternity. 

“Trappist-1 is one of these ancients. It’s already more than 7 billion years old, almost twice as old as our Sun.” The faint red star barely lit the screen compared to the Sun. “But only around a tenth of the size, and less than 1% as bright.”

It was hard to picture such a small star being the centre of some other planetary system. And one with so little light to offer. I wonder if such a star would envy the brightness of its relatives, or maybe it is glad to have such a long life in exchange?

“Do you know them?” Neptune tried again, glancing at the Sun. Sol’s messy expression of frustration put Jupiter on high-alert for a potential shouted reply. Instead, the star breathed out forcefully before addressing the absent-minded planet.

“No. And I guarantee I won't know any others.” The Sun ground out, sparing Neptune his glare as he aimed it at the screen. “I’ve only ever met one red dwarf, and I did not know her name.”

“Sooo…it could be her?” Neptune’s reply was ignored by the star, and Jupiter was quite glad for it. My poor hearing can’t take much more screaming so close to me.

“It’s a cool star, slow-burning, and that is the secret of its longevity.” The red fire of the star filled the screen. “Because they burn slowly, red dwarfs live for a very long time, far longer than any other star.”

“What do they even do with all that time?” Luna uttered in wonder. “Such a long life, they must get bored?”

“Why? It would be fun to live forever!” Deimos grinned, bouncing up from Mars’ bean bag.

“Yeah! We could play so many games!” Phobos concurred, knocking Mars’ balance and almost sending his planet to the floor.

“Wouldn’t you get tired? Eventually?” Mars’ exasperated voice asked the moons, but their planet’s words did nothing to calm them.

“Nope!”

“Never!”

“Like the Sun, Trappist-1 has its own planets, seven rocky worlds, each roughly the size of Earth.” The small rocky planets could be seen orbiting the faint star. “Some may have atmospheres and even oceans, but there the similarity ends.”

“No giants?” Saturn questioned in confusion. “Not even an ice giant?”

“Truly, I cannot imagine the chaos.” Jupiter lowered his voice as he spoke, aiming to only be heard by the ringed planet. Unfortunately, the rocky planets never seemed to miss a word said in this Solar System.

“Hey! We don’t need giants in every system! A system of rockies sounds lovely, and perfectly calm!” The high-pitch of Earth’s shouting obliterated whatever point he was trying to make before it even entered the room.

“What was that? They’ll never believe that if you keep shouting the place down!” Venus decided, against everyone's’ wishes, to join the noise and even increase it. 

“I’ll be sure to send my condolences to Trappest-1. They may be in dire need of it.” The Sun snarked quietly as he watched the rockies argue. Jupiter found a smile growing on his lips, despite the noise. They may be difficult at times, but I would never want a Solar System without them.

“Because these are strange worlds.” The planet on screen was liquid water on one side, and frozen on the other. “Every one of these planets is locked in its orbit, one side facing Trappist-1, the other side frozen, permanently exposed to the cold void of space.”

“Tidally-locked planets?” Triton muttered in surprise. “I didn’t know you could tidally-lock a planet.”

“You can tidally-lock most things if the gravity and spin is right.” Jupiter recalled, remembering a conversation he’d had with Sol early on, when Ganymede was yet to wake up but never seemed to face away from him. “In fact, I believe Mercury would be tidally-locked, if not for his elliptical orbit.”

“I-I would?” The smallest planet frowned, looking as close to angry as Jupiter had ever seen. “No thanks, I’ll pass on that. I’m not a moon.”

“Uh, he literally just said it can happen to planets too, Pipsqueak. It’s not a ‘moon-only’ thing.” Venus growled, watching his fellow rocky planet carefully.

“Maybe in other planetary systems, but not this one! That’s moon stuff.”

“If you could stand on the surface of one of these ancient worlds, as the aeons passed, you could watch the future of the cosmos slowly unfold.” The dark planetary surface was weakly lit by the red star, the galaxy still visible around it. 

“I wonder if Life would even be possible on such worlds?” Luna quietly asked, carefully ignoring the glaring contest Venus and Mercury were still having. “It has liquid water, but maybe even such a faint star is too hot?”

“I think the lack of temperature variation might limit any Life that might live there. Maybe there’s a habitable strip at the border between the light and dark sides?” Earth joined in, studying the screen thoughtfully. “But I guess we’ll never know unless the Earthlings go there one day.”

Jupiter was much more enraptured by the sights on screen, of the red star glowing so faintly that the galaxy was still visible beside it. When one looked at Sol, it was hard to see anything else, but this small star couldn’t even outshine the distant stars of its galaxy. 

“And one day, five billion years from now, you’d see our Sun flicker and fade away forever.” The beautiful view of a night sky filled the screen.

All eyes in the room were fixed on the flickering speck in the sky-scape, watching as it brightened and dimmed, before disappearing entirely. The sinking feeling this left in Jupiter core forced him to close his eyes momentarily. It was almost nauseating to watch a pin-prick of light fade, just as small as all the rest, while also knowing the star and its system intimately. To see it so reduced, barely noticed in the vastness of the galaxy, put their small existence into painful perspective. 

“Well, this just got depressin’.” The quiet, low voice of the dark dwarf planet Quaoar was barely heard above the oppressive silence that suppressed the room.

“The death of our Sun will probably go unremarked.” Brian explained calmly, standing before a body of water filled with icebergs. “I doubt that we’ll be around to see it. Maybe some alien astronomer on a world far away across the Milky Way will see it through the end of their telescope, but I don’t think they’ll give it a second thought.”

The hand Jupiter had offered to Sol was slowly getting squeezed, and as the Earthling talked, the pressure increased noticeably. The gas giant gently began to return the gesture, hoping it would help his distressed star, and maybe save his hand from being crushed. At his other side, Saturn had a hand to his mouth, trying to hide an oddly frustrated expression. Jupiter turned a questioning eye to his friend.

“I-I just… ‘go unremarked’? How can the Earthlings suggest such a thing!” Saturn’s low whisper answered his silent question, and the planet’s own moons looked equally put off by the words. 

Jupiter had no reply for his dear friend nor any words to comfort his star. The air in the room was tight and melancholy, holding any words said to silence or strained whisper. No one seemed prepared to shatter it, too caught up in the insignificance of their whole world being spelled out on the screen.

“We’re seen hundreds of stars die and we don’t give them a second thought.” Brian moved his hands as he spoke to the camera. “But I think the death of our Sun will matter here locally in this little corner of the galaxy.”

“Of course it will matter!” Venus hissed, glaring fire at the Earthling on screen. “I’ll find myself nicely vaporised, and I’d consider that pretty significant!”

“Even beyond that, it will matter.” Neptune spoke up, sounding oddly certain and aware. “Even the outer planets’ will be severely impacted by the creation of a white dwarf. Our orbits will be thrown into chaos.”

“I never really thought of that, mate.” Uranus looked distressed suddenly, glancing at Jupiter and Sol for some kind of rebuttal against Neptune’s prediction. “What if we all end up in collisions? Or orbiting Jupiter? Or getting ejected!” 

Uranus’ distress at that last possibility felt like another planet had hit Jupiter’s core. Ejected. That’s exactly what you did to Planet X, and you can never make up for that.

“Because it will mark the end of a glorious time in the history of our galaxy, where meaning, where science and literature and art and poetry and music existed here. And that does matter.” 

“Too bad no one else will hear about it, I guess.” Pluto frowned. “Unless those probes you mentioned before, the Voyagers, actually get read by some other Life.” 

“I mean, they are trying to get better at space travel. Maybe they’ll find a way to travel to other systems?” Luna suggested optimistically. “They could keep the creations of this system alive for a bit longer.” 

“Why does meaning have to be eternal? It’s the fragility of our lives that makes them valuable.”

“Easy for them to say, they barely live longer than your orbital period.” Planet X tossed a grin at Uranus, who still appeared stressed about the chaos likely to erupt after the Sun died. 

“Ha, yeah mate. Real silly.” The pale ice giant mumbled in reply, not sounding at all focused on his friend’s words. 

“And yet, even with such short lives, they have created and discovered far more than we have.” Jupiter put in with a careful tone, watching X warily. He did not wish to fight with the planet he was supposed to be helping to integrate, but he felt the conversation needed an alternative perspective. 

“Jupiter is right.” To the gas giant’s surprise, Sol’s voice followed his statement with a surety that had been sorely missed. “Finite lives can ignite far more creation than infinite ones. At least in stars, that had always been the case.”

“I think the wonderful thing is that our star has taken the laws of nature here on this planet and crafted such a magnificent expression of them.” Brian’s voice was filled with sincerity. “You, me, and all this.”

“It is truly a beautiful creation, from both of you, Sun and Earth.” Saturn expressed with a soft smile. The mildly offended look Earth’s moon shot at him caused him to hastily add, “And Luna, of course!”

“I’m surprised he knew his name.” Europa’s low whisper to Ganymede caught Jupiter’s ear, twisting a frown onto his face. Saturn may be forgetful, but I’m sure he would not forget Earth’s sole moon. But at the back of Jupiter's head, a doubt settled into orbit. He did forget his own major moons…

Solemn music played as the camera zoomed out of the Earth’s surface and revealed the red dwarf star again. “Stars like Trappist-1 will linger on long after the death of our Sun.”

“How much longer can they burn?” Mercury asked curiously, glancing over at the Sun. Sol frowned in thought before replying.

“I have never seen even one red dwarf fade from the sky. I believe they are projected to burn for 100 billion years each, and our Universe is only 13.8 billion years old itself.” The stark numbers caught Jupiter off guard. It was easy to imagine a star lasting 5, even 10 billion years longer than Sol, but 100 billion years…it was unimaginable, far too vast for even the oldest planet to comprehend. Truly an eternal existence.

“We will never know the name of the last star.” The view zoomed out further to show a sole red star in a dark Universe. “But we know that the last star to shine will be a red dwarf.”

It seemed such a strange thing to consider, the name of the Last Star, especially from the Earthlings who did not know they were sentient. Yet, at the same time, it was painfully like them, to be concerned with such small details of their worlds. Jupiter’s own thoughts had gone straight to the loneliness and confusion of such a celestial. Born into a dying Universe and cursed to slowly watch the lights fade until all but you remain, unaware of the past majesty of your lineage. I’m glad I never gained enough mass to become a star. I would’ve likely been a red dwarf, doomed in the same way.  

‘10 trillion years in the future’ appeared below the small red star, alone in the dark. “The last star will slowly cool and fade away.” That final spot of light dimmed and left, leaving the whole screen in complete darkness.

Saturn’s slight trembling informed Jupiter that his dear friend would likely need a hug after this. While this death was starkly similar to the previous death of the First Star, watching the Last Star die felt far more tragic and hopeless. At least with the First Star’s death, life and creation was promised afterwards. This death was the end of all light and warmth in the Universe, the end of the Age of Starlight. 

The pressure on his hand had migrated to just his fingers, held firmly in the shaky grasp of his star as Sol tried to suppress his reaction. At his feet, even the Galilean moons had fallen silent with reverie, watching the dying star with wet eyes. Nothing could be heard from the ice giants, and a similar silence echoed from the dwarf planet group. The only noise Jupiter could detect was soft sniffs and coughs from the rocky planets area.

“With its passing, the Universe will become, once again, a void, without light or life or meaning.”

“Stars, this is a fun first episode.” Venus’ low muttering after an extensive silence almost forced a laugh out of Jupiter, startling him. A few others didn’t manage to stifle theirs in time.

Sol rose slightly from his hunch, steam hissing around his form as he aimed a glare at the cloudy planet, and Jupiter feared he would shoot a solar flare; despite knowing well enough that he could not do so in this room. Instead, his star watched as the room relaxed at the laughs, the tension finally broken. 

“No respect. Honestly.” The Sun huffed out with a deep sigh, but a small smile replaced his earlier frown. The hand that held Jupiter’s relaxed at last.

The darkness was slowly broken by the camera panning up and transitioning into a silhouetted mountain, backlit by the Sun. “The stars illuminate the Universe and create its most intricate structures, and one day they will all be gone.”

“That transition was smooth.” Mars commented with an appraising tone. “This whole episode has been amazing, visually.” 

“Definitely. It’s awesome to see how good they’ve gotten with cameras, despite only inventing them relatively recently.” Earth added with a proud grin. “Though, I imagine a lot of this was made with CGI, ‘cause I’m pretty sure they didn’t send a camera to the end of the stars.”

“What the Stars is CGI?”

“Oh, it’s a way to make realistic images with computers. They used to only use it for small things, but now it’s everywhere.” Earth explained happily, then added with a slight frown, “It’s actually becoming a bit of an issue.”

“The stars are gods, but they are mortal gods.” Brian’s face was now silhouetted by the Sun’s light. “And when that time comes when the last stars have faded and all possibility of Life and meaning in the Universe has faded with them, they will have left the most profound legacy.”

“I feel like ‘mortal gods’ is an oxymoron.” Titan muttered dryly, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “But, it does seem to fit. If this Universe has any gods, they would be them, regardless of mortality.” 

“Will anything come after the stars?” Proteus asked with a worried frown. “It sounded so boring!”

“I have no idea, Proteus.” The Sun sighed in answer, turning a smile to the little moon. “But you don’t need to worry about all that. That’s a question for future stars, or the Earthlings if they're so bold as to search for answers.”

“Because, for a moment in the long history of the Universe, the stars illuminated the dark and allowed us to illuminate it, too.” An Earthling song began to play as the camera moved across the sea, towards the setting Sun. 

“I must agree with the Earthlings, we owe much to stars, ours and all previous generations who contributed to our existence.” Jupiter filled the silence following the fading of the light, casting his gaze across the room. Nods and hums of agreement met him, and even Planet X dipped his head to the gas giant’s words. New hope ignited in Jupiter at the gesture. I will make this reintegration work, I won’t accept otherwise!

“Well, that’s one down, four to go.” Ganymede stood up with a shake as the room buzzed into conversation, waiting for the next episode to begin, and turned to his fellow moons. “How about we check in with the others real quick?”

“Sure. What else are we supposed to do?” Callisto drawled as she followed, pulling a struggling Io to his feet as she went. Jupiter watched this with a bemused expression. He really is taking this moon club stuff seriously.

Now rendered moonless, Jupiter glanced around for someone who wanted to talk. Saturn had already pulled out his little notebook, likely taking advantage of his moons also leaving to practise the names a bit more, and Jupiter was reluctant to disturb him.

“Jupiter.” Hearing his name, the gas giant quickly turned his head away from the ringed planet to see Sol watching him intently. Offering his star a shaky smile, the gas giant replied.

“Yes, Sun?”

Now that he had his planet’s attention, the Sun looked uncertain of how to continue, like he’d only planned the start of this interaction. Jupiter frowned in worry.

“Are you OK? That was a harrowing episode, and I’m sure it was unpleasant to watch as a star.” Jupiter tried, carefully studying the star’s face for a clue of how to continue.

“I-I’m fine.” The star quickly dismissed before pushing on. “I wanted to…apologize. For how I have been acting towards you, even after you returned with Planet X as I asked.”

“You don’t need to apologize! I deserved it, I needed to fix my mistakes and earn your trust again.” Jupiter implored to his star in his calmest voice, shocked by his words. As he spoke, Sol’s expression twisted into apprehension and regret. 

“Zeus.” Jupiter immediately silenced himself at the formal name, frozen by his star’s gaze. “You did as I asked, you returned my planet, and even still you are trying to help his reintegration. I could not ask more of you and still withhold myself from reach. You are always protecting this system, doing what I often cannot. And I will not overlook that.”

“But-” Jupiter tried to protest, only to quickly fall silent again as Sol continued. 

“I was angry, so angry.” The star faintly repeated, then focused his eyes. “But I don’t want to keep punishing you forever, and…I missed talking with you.”

“I-I missed you as well, Sol.” Jupiter stammered out, igniting a small smile on his star’s face.

“I want to repair our connection.” The Sun proclaimed, “So, I apologize for how I’ve been acting. And, I forgive you.” 

Ever since the reveal of his Grand Tack, Jupiter had been all but convinced he’d never hear those words. His star was not an easy star to earn forgiveness from, and for a crime so long hidden, he’d resided himself to eternally seeking mere tolerance from the star. His mind didn’t know what to do with the image in front of him, almost outright rejecting it was a hallucination. 

“Thank you, Sun. I will spend the rest of my life making sure you don’t regret this.” He answered solemnly, surprised by the sad glint that entered his star’s eyes. What did I say wrong? Why isn’t he happy to hear this?

“You don’t need to do that. I know I’m your star, but you don’t owe me anything, Jupiter.” He insisted, and added in a regretful tone, “I’m worried you think you do? I-I’m not- I never-” 

As his star cut himself off with a miserable expression, Jupiter was stuck with confusion. Stars made planets, that’s how it worked. So why wouldn’t Jupiter owe him? His whole existence was focused on keeping his star’s system calm and protecting his fellow planets. He had to do it, he owed the star for all he had. But, in the same way, planets cause moons to form, giving them life. Do moons owe us? Jupiter's mind rejected the idea, horrified by the idea of thinking his moons, all 95, owed him for their existence. But, for some reason, when he tried to apply this to Sol and himself, he ran into a wall. He hadn’t even been aware of this block in his logic, but clearly it was deeply ingrained. 

It doesn't make sense! Why-why did the Sun even bring this up? Jupiter’s mind rushed by him like his stormy atmosphere, ripping up any solid thoughts that tried to form. It felt like his axis was off, tilted to some new, harsh angle and he was powerless to right himself. 

His expression must have given away his internal distress, as Sol lightly placed a hand on his shoulder to draw his attention back to the star. “Oh, Jupiter, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to fix this.”

The quiet admittance didn’t help Jupiter internal implosion. He didn’t know how to fix this either. And he didn’t want to be asked to. The thought of piling this new problem, this fresh rift between them, onto his already precarious stack of worries filled him with dread, and a core-deep exhaustion. For the first time in his existence, he didn’t want to jump at the chance to please his star, he wanted his star to fix this instead. But can this be fixed? How far back did this start? That first million years? When the other planets were born? When X was ejected? When Theia died? 

“I-I don’t e-either.” He finally got out, embarrassed to voice even that. The Sun’s heartbroken expression swam in front of him and the hand on his shoulder felt burning hot despite the lack of steam. A raw part of him, freshly awoken from some deep part of his mantle, wanted to push the hand off.

“T-That’s OK. We’ll…we’ll work it out, right?” Sol tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace, strained at the edges by tearful eyes. “Like always?”

“Y-yeah, like always.” Jupiter agreed faintly, and carefully bowed his head to the star. Sol, however, didn’t seem satisfied with this and pulled him into a quick hug. Jupiter was struck silent. It came and went faster than Jupiter’s strained mind could register, but even if he’d been aware enough, he doubted he’d have hugged back. He felt too confused. Too conflicted. Numbly, the largest planet of the Solar System slowly sat back down in his bean bag. 

His star, appearing a bit confused by his reaction, just turned and marched back to his own seat, carefully hiding his distressed expression from the rest of the room. He needn't have bothered, Jupiter’s fried core supplied, no one is paying attention to the star and his loyalist planet.

Despite his mind’s harsh words, Saturn shot him a concerned look, silently asking what was wrong, but Jupiter was too exhausted to reply. Instead, he accepted the hug Saturn gently pulled him into, and slowly tried to get himself together in time for the next episode. I’m really, really in need of a nap now. Once this is over, I’m sleeping for a whole orbit.

Chapter Text

“Honestly, things with the Earth have been going pretty well lately.” Luna found himself replying with the half-truth automatically to Titan’s request. Sitting between the moons of Mars and the moons of Neptune, Luna felt distinctly outnumbered. “I’m still working on getting involved in their card games, but obviously this has kinda ruined that.”

“That’s good to hear! And I’m sure you’ll make progress once this is over.” Most of the moons of the Solar System had gathered together for a quick catch up before the next episode began, just to see if any issues had arisen. After Luna spoke his piece, Titan nodded to the moons of Mars next.

“Yep, no issues here! Mars is great!” Phobos exclaimed excitedly, mirrored by his brother. 

“OK, moons of Jupiter?” Titan turned to the next group with a questioning glance. Ganymede cleared his throat before speaking. 

“Jupiter is still stressing too much about Planet X. And the Sun, honestly. He’s such a pushover with him.” The Galilean moon admitted with frustration. “I thought after all my efforts to include myself in his problems, he’d at least ask for more help than this. It’s like pulling metal out of an asteroid.” 

“We need to be patient.” Europa responded with a sigh. “Your idea to prove our worth by getting more involved was a good one, but trying to change the norms of over 4 billion years in just a few orbits was always going to have limited results.” 

“I just wish we were making more progress than this. I can tell he’s changed how he sees me, but it’s not translated into actions yet.” Ganymede exhaled heavily, turning his eyes to Titan. “How is your plan coming along?”

“Um…slowly, like yours.” Titan reluctantly revealed, and the nodding heads from his fellow Saturian moons verified his assessment. “He’s really trying to remember all of our names, and it’s only really the new ones that he gets wrong…but he’s so stressed about it all the time, they often don’t even want to correct him, they’re too afraid they’ll upset him.” 

“He’s also pretty bad at remembering anything beyond our names, still.” Mimas grumbled, “And ever since Planet X got here, he’s been even more of an anxious wreck.” 

“Bit harsh?” Rhea frowned at Mimas, but Dione cut in.

“Harsh, maybe. But it is necessary. We need to be honest about our planets and their flaws.” Dione’s words stung Luna’s core, nearly forcing his gaze down in shame. She’s right, I shouldn’t be hiding this stuff…but it’s not really a problem? At least, not compared to theirs.

“Don’t be so pathetic!” Dark’s voice hissed in his mind. “You know he’s getting obsessive about it. Lying about this is going to bite you in the crust, I’m telling yah.”

Thanks, Dark, really needed right now! Luna tried to focus back on the outside world and not his irritating companion. Titan had turned the conversation to Uranus’ moons, and Titania was giving her report.

“I’m afraid he’s still quite distant from us. Things were better for a bit, and he was slowly getting less anxious about talking to us, but then that other ice giant turned up!” Titania scowled with annoyance at the dark form of Planet X in one corner. “Uranus has been impossible to talk to, he’s always either away in his head or talking to X.”

“Does anyone have any ideas for solutions or next steps the Uranuian moons could try?” Ganymede asked the wider group after Titania had finished her rant.

“Um, maybe he’s just excited to have a new friend?” Luna offered hesitantly, intensely aware of Titan’s eyes on him. “Maybe you can just remind him that you guys want to spend time with him too?”

“Why should we have to?” Titania hissed in frustration. “He’s our planet, he should spend time with us anyway.” Luna wasn’t sure what to make of that logic. Maybe she’s just too angry right now to consider my idea?

“Or, and here me out, your idea sucked!” Dark’s unwanted commentary whispered in his ear. “‘JUsT TalK tO tHem’, give me a break, you won’t even take your own advice!”

Luna froze his face in an effort to hide any reaction to Dark’s words. Unfortunately, Titania seemed to have taken that to mean he had no counter to her statement. 

“So we have no solution. Great, we’ll just keep orbiting a planet that barely notices we exist, wonderful.” Her hard, tired expression softened when Oberon placed a consoling hand on hers, and she retreated to her moon group again.

"I'm sorry, Titania. I promise we'll keep looking for a solution for you guys." Titan apologised to the icy moon.

“OK, and last but not least, moons of Neptune, anything to say?” Titan turned to Triton and his horde of little moons. The major moon looked reluctant for a second, before opening his mouth to speak.

“Nothing's wrong between us and Neptune, we’re chill at the moment.” Triton hesitated, then added in a more serious tone. “The stuff with the other ice giants is getting kinda hard to watch, though.”

“In what way?” Callisto asked her friend.

“Ever since Planet X turned up, everything's been off with them. Uranus, as Titania said, is really getting close to X. But Neptune and X don’t really have much compatibility. And Uranus is way too focused on X to give it a second thought. Neptune might even be jealous, for all I know. It’s hard to tell what that planet is thinking at the best of times.” Triton elaborated reluctantly, and one of the little moons pushed forward to speak.

“I don’t know why they can’t all be friends? Planet X is cool!” Proteus’ words produced a small grimace on Triton’s face, one he hid as soon as the little moon turned to him. “Isn’t he?”

“Sure, kid, he might be cool, but that doesn’t mean Neptune’s going to instantly like him.”

“So…do you guys want any ideas for fixing this? It sounds a bit out of your control, to be honest.” Ganymede awkwardly interjected, tossing a backwards glance at the rest of the room. “We may be running out of time here.”

“No, we’ll work it out. I just thought I should mention it, and maybe the moons of Uranus could try finding out some more about it, from their planet’s angle?” Triton asked, looking over at Titania. The icy moon merely nodded her head in reply, and began gently leading her group back to their planet.

“OK, good talk, guys. We’ll try to catch up in a few episodes, and don’t worry, this documentary won’t last forever.” Titan addressed the remaining moons. “We’ll be home before you know it!”

As the Moon Club broke up, Luna followed Phobos and Deimos back to the rocky planet area. Earth was right where he’d left him, sitting in the dark blue bean bag and making absent-minded conversation with Mars. Luna slotted comfortably into his place beside the planet, and was greeted by an arm around his shoulders. Both the moon and planet turned to the screen as it shone anew.

“At this precise moment on a planet far, far away,” The screen opened on a rocky world, ringed by icy debris that reminded Luna of Saturn. The camera panned down to the surface, showing the star rising huge in the sky and the sweep of rings arching overhead. “An alien sunrise ushers in a new day.”

“A ringed rocky planet?” Mercury questioned, “I didn’t know that was an option. It looks amazing from the surface.”

“I doubt it was a fun option. A moon probably got destroyed to make it.” Venus muttered darkly, watching the screen warily. 

Venus’ words were an unpleasant reminder of how many nameless moons have probably died in the past to make the faint rings of all the gas giants, even if Saturn now remembered one of them. And even beyond their system, so many planets must have rings and how many moons died for those? Stars, even planets may have died to make rings. The last documentary had briefly mentioned it, but Luna had later insisted on a confirmation from Mars that yes, initially, rings formed that later created Luna himself. I really don’t like thinking about that, so I’m not going to.

“That seems like a totally healthy and rational way to react, I’m sure.” Luna frowned as Dark spoke up again.

Can’t you just be quiet? You were barely awake during the last documentary. The moon shot back, fiddling with the fabric of the bean bag to hide his agitation. 

Why should I? I wanted to sleep then, but now I’m nice and awake, so I want to see what all the fuss is about.” Dark countered, and Luna just sighed internally. 

“But will alien eyes gaze upon it?” The screen flew to a coastline on the strange world, revealing a vast ocean. “Or will it go unseen? Just another moment in a vast, sterile Universe?”

“Does it need a witness? It seems nice enough already, even if no Life is on the surface.” Saturn muttered, looking to Jupiter for a comment. Only now did Luna notice that Jupiter looked beyond tired, and his expression was oddly strained. Locking eyes with Io, Luna tilted his head in question towards the gas giant. Io merely shrugged.

“It 'seems nice enough’ because you are witnessing it.” Planet X suggested in a bored tone. “If nothing can see it, does it really have any value?”

“Oh, um, that’s a bit too complicated for me.” Saturn was suddenly struck by nervousness, eyes darting away from the ice giant and shoulders hunching up. Planet X just rolled his eyes.

“The hunt is on for the answer.” 

“Oh, is this episode about searching for alien Life?” Luna asked, turning to his planet with a searching look, trying to see if this would upset him. His planet, instead, looked intrigued. 

“I guess so.” Mars replied instead, also glancing at the living planet. Luna wasn’t sure how much the red planet knew of Earth’s recent obsession with finding the reason he wanted Life, but he was glad another celestial was watching out for his planet.

The intro music from before (Neptune by Foals) began to play as images of stars, black holes, alien planets, and probes filled the screen. The song peaked to reveal the title ‘Universe’.

“At least it’s shorter than the last one.” Uranus commented as the intro faded away. 

“It seems like this series is going to keep having intro bits, and then cut to that short title screen, rather than the epic one from before.” Pluto added with an appraising look. “I don’t know which one I prefer.”

“I’d prefer being able to leave and not watch either of them, personally.”

‘The Search for Second Earth, Alien Worlds’ faded onto the screen above an image of a galaxy. “The Milky Way, hundreds of billions of stars, spread across 100,000 light-years of space.”

“I mean, there must be some other planets out there with Life?” Earth muttered under his breath, “Maybe they’d know why they wanted it?”

Luna had to suppress a sigh upon hearing those words. Ever since they’d been told about Theia and Proto, Earth had been plagued by odd snippets of memory, but all he seemed to get from them was more questions. The questions about why he even wanted Life in the first place quickly became his biggest focus, often interrogating Mars, Venus, and Jupiter for more information. Frustratingly, none of them could provide an answer that satisfied him. Luna knew it was getting out of hand when he’d started theorizing ways to time travel. 

Reluctant to start yet another argument about this, Luna kept his mouth shut, and leaned his weight against the side of his planet to try and snap him out of it subtly.

“Among them, the Sun, with eight planets orbiting around it, including our home.” The image of the distant Sun panned to show Earth. “Until very recently, these were the only worlds we knew of, the only planets we could hope to explore for signs of life beyond Earth.”

“I hope we’ll get to see more about the alien worlds they’ve found!” Neptune grinned at the screen excitedly. “The ones they mentioned last time were very strange looking. I want to know more!”

“They probably will, I imagine. They have to have run out of stuff to say about us by now.” Uranus grumbled at his side. Luna hadn’t been paying much attention to the ice giants, but every time he looked they always seemed to have moved their seats around. Neptune and Planet X were now flanking Uranus’ sides, with the pale planet himself looking distinctly awkward about the arrangement. His moons were watching with a similar level of wariness, casting conspiratorial glances at the moons of Neptune.

“When I first got into astronomy back in the 1970s, we knew of no planets beyond our Solar System.” Brian the human was walking in the rising sunlight along a coastline. “We didn’t have the technology to detect them even if they were there.”

“Couldn’t they just assume that other planets must exist? I mean, they know we exist and how we formed, couldn’t they apply that logic to other stars?” Mars questioned with a thoughtful expression. 

“That probably wouldn’t be very scientific, just assuming something without observing it first.” Earth countered, “They likely did suspect that other planets existed, but they still needed the proof.” 

“Our neighbourhood was the only place we could look for Life.” The sunrise was imminent, but the bright form of Venus could still be seen in the sky. “And so the hunt for life began in our own backyard.”

“Ah yes, I remember all this from the last documentary. All those probes scattered about my Solar System.” The Sun recalled fondly. “They never did find anything, did they?”

“Well, Astrodude found that organism on my moon, Titan!” Saturn put in with an excited gleam in his eyes, then added more thoughtfully, “But, maybe he hasn’t made it back to Earth yet to let all the other Earthlings know?”

“Yeah, Astrodude’s been kinda missing for a while.” Earth reflected. “Maybe he got side-tracked?”

“Over the last few decades, multiple missions have explored our Solar System’s planets and even some of their moons.” A few clips of the Cassini mission passed by, as well as Mars missions. “But to date, even as we continue to look, no convincing evidence of Life has been found on any of these worlds.”

“Yeah, Astrodude definitely hasn’t gotten back yet…” Luna trailed off, casting a worried glance at Titan. The other moon looked distinctly guilty, and Luna recalled his regret over forcing the human onto his surface. I wonder what has happened to him?

“You have the observational skills of a pear.” Dark’s insult seemed entirely unnecessary and unrelated, but Luna shot back anyway.

You don’t even know what a pear is! 

“Earth remains one of a kind, the only living world around the Sun.”

“I must say, it is admirable how dedicated you’ve been, to be able to host Life like this.” Planet X’s drawl made it hard for Luna to tell if the complement was sincere. The new ice giant wasn’t someone the moon had much desire to talk to. Jupiter had just turned up one day, a dark planet trailing behind him, and the Sun had spoken like this was planned. And it wasn't just him that held a reluctance to talk to the new planet; none of the rocky planets had approached him or tried to speak with him, despite being back almost a year now. So, it was a bit hard for Luna to believe he was genuinely interested in the Earthlings.

“Thank you?” Earth’s reply was confused, likely for similar reasons as Luna. The dark planet had not been terribly interested in humans or other Earthlings up until now. 

“But as the exploration of the Solar System continued, another search had begun for worlds that lie far beyond these shores.” Brian was walking in the dark again. “You know, the wonderful thing about astronomy is that as we develop better and better technology and accumulate more and more knowledge about our Universe, we turn more and more of these points of light in the sky into worlds.”

“I’m glad they keep looking, even within our own system.” Pluto put in with a grin to his fellow dwarf planets. “If they hadn't told us about Sedna and Quaoar in the last one, we’d have never gone out to find you two.”

“Well-I’m glad you-did too!” Sedna carefully spoke, clearly trying to focus on the words. “I-I am-enjoying having-friends!” 

“I mean, that, we’ve known is a world for a long time.” Brian pulled out a laser pointer and aimed it at the form of Mars. “Because, that is the planet Mars.”

“WOW! That laser looks epic!” Deimos grinned at the screen. “Can we have one?”

“Um, you’d have to ask Earth. I don’t even know what that thing is made of.” Mars shoved his little moon in the direction of Luna’s planet, who looked equally as reluctant to grant such a wish.

“Maybe when you’re older?” Earth tried, side-eyeing Luna for help. Luna merely watched, amused to see his planet finally have to deal with the terrors instead of Luna.

“But just above Mars tonight is a constellation called Pegasus.” He moved the green laser across the sky. “This is the square of Pegasus. And we now know that around there is a star called 51 Pegasi, which has a planet orbiting around it, a gas giant about the size of Jupiter that goes round that faint point of light every four days.”

“Damn, that is fast.” Mercury muttered in shock. “My orbit is the fastest in the Solar System and it still takes me 88 Earth days.”

“Fastest planet in orbit.” Europa corrected with a firm tone. “Metis can orbit Jupiter in less than one Earth day!”

“T-that certainly is impressive.” Mercury sounded caught off guard by the Jovian moon’s sudden input. Metis herself looked more like she’d rather be anywhere else, shrinking back from the attention of the room.

“It is wonderful to think that in my lifetime -in fact, in my adult lifetime, in the last 25 years- we’ve gone from a Universe that could have been devoid of planets beyond our Solar System to a Universe that we know is teeming with places that we can search for Life.”

“They really are short-lived little guys, aren't they.” Saturn hummed in thought, “25 years is barely longer than two of Jupiter’s orbits.”

“He’s not old yet, Saturn.” Earth laughed, “Most of those Earthlings can live at least as long as two or three of your obits.”

“You say that like that makes it sound any better.” Dione muttered under her breath.

“Over the last three decades, some of the most powerful telescopes on Earth joined the hunt.” The screen passed over ‘W.M.Keck observatory’, ‘Very Large Telescope’, and ‘LA Silla observatory’. “Searching for planets unimaginably far away, hiding in the dark.”

“All those official sounding names, then just ‘Very Large Telescope’ dropped in there.” Venus snarked at the screen. 

“It’s straight to the point. Very practical.” Jupiter added in a tired, but friendly tone. Luna was glad to see the gas giant looked a touch better than earlier, sitting close enough to Saturn to lean on the ringed planet.   

“Planets like 51 Pegasi b, the first world outside our Solar System to be detected around a sun-like star.” The screen was filled by a bright orange star, and orbiting closely to it was a gas giant, very similar looking to Jupiter. “51 Pegasi b is a gas giant, around half the mass of Jupiter, but far closer to its star.”

“Are all the exo-planets going to have these long-winded names?” Uranus complained, scribbling something down on his new sketchpad the room seemed to have provided. “They’re not as memorable as ours.”

“I imagine those are not the names they would go by, if we could ask them.” Sun speculated in reply. “At least, I can’t imagine a star tolerating the name 51 Pegasi.”

“You expected me to tolerate ‘Uranus’ for over 4 billion years.” Luna couldn’t be sure if those were the words; he was much too far to hear them, but his lip-reading skills were pretty good considering how long he had to watch Mars and Earth play cards at 238,855 miles away. 

Meeting Umbriel's eyes, Luna indicated to her planet in question. She shook her head with a deeper frown than usual.

“Just imagine what that world might be like,” The human prompted as images of a violent atmosphere filled the screen. “A world with skies torn by titanic winds, where its hot interior is bathed in rain of sapphires.”

“Is that what might have happened? If you’d kept heading towards the Sun.” For a second, Luna’s mind couldn’t comprehend what Mercury was asking about, or who he was talking to. The moon's core clenched uncomfortably, an involuntary shiver passing over his crust. We agreed that ‘event’ stays between us three!

“Don’t be a paranoid dumbass, he’s talking to Jupiter.” Dark’s words, for once, were actually helpful. Mercury had indeed intended the question for the largest gas giant, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. Luna shook himself sharply, trying to rid himself of the sudden anxiety.

“I-I can’t say, I have no idea where my orbit would have rested.” He threw an awkward look at the Sun, but the star didn’t seem angry about the discussion topic like Luna had expected. “Though, I imagine being that close to a star would’ve led to a similar atmosphere.” 

“In every sense, 51 Pegasi b is an alien world.” Brian explained as flashes of sparkling rain fell. “And we soon discovered that the galaxy is full of planets unlike anything seen in our Solar System.”

“I can’t imagine how varied planets must be across the whole galaxy.” Saturn sounded excited, watching the screen with interest. “Even in our own system, everyone is so unique! Even the rocky planets!”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!” Venus’ angry retort was lost in the excitement as a pulsing light flooded the room.

A bright pulsating star was orbited by planets. “Planets enveloped by fierce radiation, their surfaces battered and stripped by the high-energy strobing light of their star.” The flashes were beginning to give Luna a core-ache. 

“Whoa, that’s…different.” Mars frowned at the pulsing light, blinking heavily. 

“Why is it doing that? How is it doing that?” Luna couldn’t help but ask, mesmerized by the flashing. 

“It’s a dead star.” The Sun replied bluntly, bringing a tone of wariness back into the room.

“Elaborate.” Planet X’s even, demanding tone surprised the moon, and the Sun too it seemed. But, instead of blasting the planet with a solar flare like Luna expected, the star actually responded.

“When a large star dies, it can form a neutron star. If that neutron star is spinning fast enough, its electromagnetic fields can become so strong they emit radiation from the poles as it spins. That’s what a pulsar is, a very fast, spinning corpse.” The Sun ended this cheery explanation with a sarcastic grin, resuming his position of facing the screen. 

Looking at the planets being blasted by this pulsar felt a bit more unnerving now, equipped with the new knowledge of their formation. I can’t imagine their planets are terribly happy, constantly getting irradiated by a corpse.

“Sounds better than getting swallowed by a red giant and burning to death.” Dark muttered lowly.

I already told you, the Earthlings aren’t sure that’ll even happen, Luna tried to assure the other side of his form, we might end up just orbiting the edge.

“That doesn’t sound better. More like eternal heatstroke.” The reply was sharp, but Luna could hear the fear behind it.

“Worlds so cold, their atmospheres have frozen solid.” The camera zoomed to a new planet, coated in ice, at temperatures below 220 degrees celsius. 

“Wait, my temperature is below that. Stars, Pluto’s temperatures are below that.” Uranus considered the screen with confusion. “Why isn’t my atmosphere frozen, then?”

“They did say, below 220 degrees celsius.” Planet X considered. “That could merely imply the limit of their knowledge. They haven’t even measured my temperature yet, I cannot imagine they’ve managed it with exo-planets.”

“I guess you have a point.” Uranus nodded, then added with an offended tone. “They should've measured your temperature by now! You’ve been back for at least an Earth year.”

“Yeah, no. The probes they sent to Neptune and you took over 10 years to get there. They aren't measuring Planet X any time soon.” Earth butted in, “I don’t think they even know you exist yet.”

“Well, that’s just rude, mate!”

“Or great swollen planets,” The screen changed again, revealing a cyan gas giant, very similar to Jupiter again. “With the density of Styrofoam and fathomless atmospheres.”

“What the Stars is Styrofoam?” Triton sounded bemused by the word, “And why is it a descriptor for a planet?”

“It’s this stuff the Earthlings make from oil. They use it for insulation and soft structures. It’s quite low density, which is likely what Brian was trying to imply.” Luna tried to answer, sure that the Earth was probably getting bored of answering every ‘Earthling’ related question. 

“You know he’d talk about Earthling stuff till the Sun blows us up if he could.” Dark countered in his mind. 

“These discoveries proved that, in one sense, we really are not alone.” Brian spoke over the image of a star being orbited by a planet. “There are other worlds out there waiting to be explored.”

“I’d like to see them actually get to any of them.” Enceladus sneered, “Those Voyager probes have barely left the Solar System, and they set off ages ago.”

“They’ll just need faster probes!” Rhea suggested optimistically with a friendly nudge to her fellow Saturnin moon. 

“‘Faster than light’ probes, maybe.” Mimas added dismissively.

“We estimate that in the Milky Way galaxy, there are more planets than stars, hundreds of billions of them.” The Sun was rising over an ocean on Earth’s surface. “That’s hundreds of billions of places to look for Life.”

“They really are determined to find Life, aren't they?” Mars turned to Earth as he spoke, waiting for a usual snappy reply. 

Instead, the living planet just screwed up his face thoughtfully. “It would be interesting to talk to other planets with Life. I think that would be fascinating, personally.”

“Don’t you have Titan to talk to? He has Life, even if the Earthlings don’t know it yet.” Luna prompted, not keen on letting Earth ponder the idea for much longer. After the time-machine fiasco, who knows what silly plan will pop into his head.

“Y-Yeah, but it’s not the same.” Earth implored, “Titan’s fun to talk to, but his Life is so different from mine. Mine actually impacts my climate, while he can barely tell he even has Life.”

Luna didn’t have a reply for that. No way to counter his planet’s point. But, he was still reluctant to let Earth stay in his thoughts, and instead pushed up against the planet to refocus his attention on the present, and the screen.

“But there’s a catch, because not all worlds -by a long stretch- are like this one.” Brian walked across some rocks to the ocean shore, watching the waves crash against it.

Luna found himself agreeing with Brian’s statement. It was hard to imagine all the same coincidences and chance events that created Earth, himself, and Life, all happening to another planet billions of miles away. 

“I doubt Life requires those exact circumstances to form.” Dark suggested, “We don’t even know how important that collision was for Life anyway.”

It must have been a bit important, otherwise why did it happen? Luna could sense Dark’s eye-roll despite being unable to see his face. 

“Things like that don’t need a reason to happen. They just do, and it sucks.”

B-but, maybe it did help Life evolve? Even if it wasn’t the reason it happened? Maybe it helped Earth’s core stay molten? Maybe it helped speed up his spin? Maybe a moon is needed for Life? Luna could tell he was getting a bit silly about this. I’m not supposed to be the obsessive one, that’s Earth’s job.

“I think, personally, that you’re both as bad as each other, and I dislike being chained to you both for eternity.” Dark muttered with a grumpy tone, but it was nothing Luna hadn’t heard a thousand times before.

You’d miss the drama.

“Fair.”

“The first planets we found appeared too bizarre, too large and often too close to their stars for living things to survive.” The camera panned over a small island, mostly taken up by a cove. “To find worlds where Life could exist, we needed to look for smaller, rocky planets in orbits further from their stars.”

“Those must be much harder to see, I imagine?” Pluto commented with interest, “I wonder how they are finding these planets, especially little rocky ones.” 

“Well, I hope they found a way, or this episode is going to be really dull.” Eris muttered lazily, fiddling with the carpet covering the floor.

“We needed to look for another Earth.” A rocket launch was commencing, and Luna caught the word Kepler in the radio-chatter. “So the hunt moved to space with the launch of NASA’s Kepler Space Telescope, searching for Earth-like worlds in the galaxy beyond.”

“Oh! Kepler!” Luna grinned at the launch of the telescope. “I remember watching it orbit near us. Isn’t it still up there?”

“I think so? I’m pretty sure it ran out of fuel though.” Earth replied. 

“Why is it called ‘Kepler’?” Neptune asked from the ice giant side of the room. The deep blue planet appeared curious about the telescope on the screen.

“I believe it’s named after an Earthling who did a lot of work on orbits, and even created a few laws of planetary motion.”

“Kepler crossed 94 million miles of space, until it arrived in a steady orbit around the Sun,” The telescope floated through the darkness of space, using small thrusters to get into position. “From where it looked out with a fixed and clear gaze to a single patch of sky in the constellation of Cygnus.”

“It only looked at one bit of space?” Ganymede asked incredulously, scoffing, “Why that bit specifically, did they think something was there already?”

“They likely chose that location so that the light of the Sun would not interfere with it.” Jupiter corrected his moon, sounding a bit put off by Ganymede’s attitude. Luna could empathize, he was also quite tired of Ganymede, even if he’d been better recently. “And even if the area is small, a sensitive enough eye could likely see thousands of stars.”

“Exposing its sensitive light meter,” The screen was suddenly filled with rectangles of dense stars, all different and varied. “To the light of 150,000 stars, it began to look for Earth-like alien worlds.”

“Woo, those are hard to look at.” Rhea squinted at the screen.

“I’m honestly surprised at how many stars can be seen in just one part of space.” Iapetus added with a fascinated tone. “I understood it in theory, but seeing it laid out like this is a whole new level.”

“There must be at least one other Earth-like planet out there, surely!” Tethys’ wide eyes took in the lights on the screen with wonder.

“Kepler doesn’t detect planets directly. They are far too small.” Brian was now walking through a human settlement at night. “They’re just specks of dust relative to their parent star.”

“I was wondering how the Earthlings did it.” Makemake pondered aloud, grinning at his fellow dwarf planets. “It seemed impossible for them to look directly at the planets, but clearly they have found another way!”

“And what way is that?” Quaoar questioned with a confused expression.

“I don’t know! Isn’t that exciting?” 

“If ya say so.”

“They’re also very faint. They don’t emit light of their own, so they just glow very dimly in the reflected ambient light of their stars.” Brian was standing next to a human invention Luna faintly recalled Earth mentioning, a lighthouse. “So, Kepler has to detect planets indirectly.”

“Why is that thing flashing behind him?” Uranus pointed to the intermittent flash of the lighthouse turning. “Seems a bit unnecessary to have such a big light right there.”

“It’s a lighthouse!” Earth replied, and Luna was gratified to confirm that he recalled its name correctly. “The human Earthlings use it to tell ships where the coast is, which is important at night when the ship itself can’t see very well.”

“Still sounds impractical. Why can’t the ‘ships’ just not be out at night? I thought your Life was all adapted and stuff?” Uranus continued in a dismissive tone. Luna was surprised by the attitude of the ice giant. Sure, he usually wasn’t the most joyful planet in any room, but lately he’d been much more…insufferable. I think I’m starting to see where Titania was coming from. 

“I think he’s being a suck-up.” Dark interjected.

First of all, no one asked, Luna snapped back, second of all, who would he even be sucking up to?

“Isn’t it obvious? Dark and handsome over there.” Luna frowned at Dark’s reply, casting a furtive glance at the ice giants. Luna couldn’t see anything to suggest Planet X was impressed or even pleased by Uranus’ words, but it was honestly hard to tell if that planet was feeling anything.

“-and also, ships didn’t evolve, so there!” Earth had clearly been continuing his reply for a while before Luna tuned back in. Both planets seemed put off by the argument, glancing at each other warily. 

“That is enough. From both of you.” Jupiter’s heavy voice cut in, silencing any continuation. Earth accepted this and turned back to the screen, but Uranus just glared at the floor while Planet X said something into his ear. Stars, I hope Titania can work out what’s going on with her planet by the next meeting, I’m curious now.

“Imagine that a moth just flew across the beam of light from the lighthouse…” He explained that while he wouldn’t see the moth directly, if he was equipped with a very sensitive detector and proper alignments, he could detect the dimming of the light caused by the moth’s passage. “...And that is how Kepler detects planets.”

“A very, very sensitive detector, I would expect.” Makemake hummed in thought, “I must say, it is a terrific display of your Earthlings’ intellect. They seem to be wonderful problem-solvers.”

“Ah, a few of them. A lot of them aren’t making innovations like that, but they are all very smart compared to most of my other Life.” Earth admitted with a laugh.

“So smart, they’ve started to make their own problems.” Luna couldn't help but mumble under his breath. Ever since the Earth had gotten more honest about how human activity was affecting him, Luna had been kicking himself for not noticing sooner. Even beyond the obvious increase in space-debris, large parts of his surface had been losing its green vibrancy in favour of a dusty brown, his icecaps shrunk every year, and even his ozone layer had formed holes that were still slowly healing. I can’t believe I didn’t notice how much it affected him, even his personality!

“Don’t be stupid, he was being a jerk of his own freewill. Sure, the Earthlings weren’t exactly helping, but it was his decision to lash out and bottle it all up.” Dark’s words pushed against the blame he’d been festering since the ‘event’, and like waves against a rock, it slowly, so slowly, weathered it.

“We imagine there’s an alien astronomer in some distant Solar System looking back at the Sun, and everything’s lined up so they see the Earth trace across the face of our star.” Brian held up his hands to model the idea, passing a finger past his knuckle. “They would see the light from the Sun dim by one-hundredth of 1%. It’s a tiny amount, but it’s enough. And if they saw that dimming was regular, if they saw the star dim once every year, in this case, then they would infer that there’s a planet orbiting around a star.” 

“Wait, how long was the telescope active?” Mercury asked suddenly.

“About 9 years, why?”

“So was it only detecting planets with short orbits? A planet like Jupiter has an orbit almost twice that long, it would only see it once, if ever, and probably wouldn’t count it as a planet.” Mercury continued with a tone of confusion. 

“Well, they said they were only looking for ‘Earth-like’ planets, and presumably those would have orbits similar to Earth’s.” Jupiter countered in an even tone. “9 years sounds like enough time for that.” 

“Yeah, but if they’re right that more planets than just Earth were involved in the creation of Life, wouldn’t it also make sense to search for outer gas giants like you?” The smallest planet continued, insistent on the point.

“Well, that sounds like a question for the Earthlings themselves.” Jupiter concluded, and Luna got the impression the largest planet was merely too tired to keep speculating about this. “I’m sure they have already sent many more telescopes with longer lives to search.”

“With its exquisitely sensitive light meter, Kepler sees only the regular dimming of pixels, just a few bits of information.” The screen showed the telescope again, and zoomed in further to one of its images, slowly transforming it from pixels to a planet. “But from those bits, astronomers can begin to build a picture of the worlds that dim the starlight, worlds that might, in some way, resemble our own.” 

“That transition was awesome.” Ariel exclaimed from her seat, turning in excitement to Umbriel at her side. “Did you see how that little pixel turned into a whole planet?”

The silent moon merely nodded. At her other side, Oberon shuffled nervously in his seat, glancing at his planet, who was now talking quietly with Planet X. Titania, noticing this, scowled and turned Oberon away from the planet with a long-suffering sigh. 

“World’s like Kepler-36b.” A rocky world pulled into view, its surface mottled and strange. “The planet was one of Kepler’s earliest discoveries. Orbiting a star similar to our own, we’d found a world that, at first glance, might seem familiar.”

“It doesn’t look much like you, Earth.” Saturn squinted at the screen, “It doesn’t even have any blue.”

“Well, if they were only looking for Earth-sized planets at Earth’s distance from a star, they wouldn’t be likely to hit a water world first try.” Jupiter suggested in a considering tone, “It would still be interesting to know what conditions that planet has, being even slightly similar to their own.”

“They could’ve made up a better name, at least.” Europa muttered to her fellow Galilean moons.

“Weighing in at around four times the mass of our own planet, Kepler-36b was one of the first of a new class of planet -a super-Earth.” 

“Oh, I remember those! From that last documentary.” Earth’s excited exclamation brought the memory back to Luna. Feels like eons ago now.

“Ah, the super-rocky planets, but Earthlings love naming everything after their planet.” Venus rolled his eyes. 

“I am the largest rocky planet, maybe they just called it that to distinguish big rocky planets from smaller ones?” 

“What, so you’re the largest a rocky can be before becoming super?” Venus asked in disbelief. “What if they find a planet a few miles larger than you, is that a super-Earth?”

“Why are you two even arguing about this? Shut up and maybe we can actually keep watching.” Mercury snapped, surprising Luna with the frustration behind it. He’d never taken the littlest planet to be the angry one in any situation, let alone one so minor.

“The Kepler data doesn’t just allow us to say there’s a planet around that star. It allows us to characterize those planets.” Brian was in front of the camera again, pointing into the sky. “So by looking at the precise way that the light fades and then rises again, and the timing between the dips, we can measure the orbits of the planets. And if there are multiple planets in a system, we can even estimate their masses, so the Kepler data allows astronomers to paint a picture of the worlds it discovers.” 

“I was wondering how they knew the size of that planet.” Neptune nodded along, “I’d love to see their maths, it sounds fascinating.”

“I’m surprised you know what maths is.” Planet X’s hushed, unnecessary comment was not unacknowledged. Uranus frowned at him suddenly, a sour expression flickering across his face momentarily.

“That’s a bit unfair, mate. Neptune’s great at maths, w-when he remembers.” Uranus’ unsteady attempt at a firm tone did not seem to impress X, who merely shrugged nonchalantly.

“If you say so.”  

“But the more detailed our picture of Kepler-36b became, the less Earth-like this super-Earth appeared to be.” The alien planet was on screen, orbiting its star. “It orbits very close to its star, circling once every 14 days.”

“EVERY 14 DAYS?” Earth repeated in astonishment. “I thought they were looking for planets that were further away, not almost touching their star!”

“All these exo-planets are making us look slow. First that gas giant was passing every 4 days, now this rocky planet is passing every 14 days.” Mars complained, then added, “That close, and I’d be surprised if it even has a solid surface.”

“Definitely not Earth-like, then.” Luna muttered to himself, watching the planet on screen carefully. It wasn't a pleasant thought exercise, given recent events, trying to picture an Earth-like world so close to a star. How would it impact a planet like that? Mercury is further out, but even he complains endlessly about the temperature.

“And it has company,” A huge teal gas giant moved into frame, far larger than Kepler-36b. “A gigantic gaseous companion, with an orbit unusually close to its smaller sibling.”

“That is…unusually close.” The Sun watched the screen warily, appraising the two exo-planets critically. “Dangerously close. I would not be surprised if that poor rocky planet ended up as a moon, or worse.”

“Wait, that can happen?” Mercury sounded distinctly horrified by this idea.

“Well, in theory, if the gas giant is big enough and the rocky world gets into a stable orbit.” The Sun contemplated the question, “But I imagine a c-collision would be more likely, given the size of the rocky one. A little planet like you would be the perfect size for a moon, though.” 

“Oh no. Not now, not ever.” Mercury shook his head violently at the star’s words.

“The proximity of both its star and sister planet allows us to imagine the bizarre conditions that may exist on the surface of Kepler-36b.” A surface of molten rock and erupting volcanoes filled Luna’s view, reminding him of Io. “The planet may be tidally-locked, which would mean that one hemisphere always faces the star.”

“A lava world?” Callisto’s monotone had a hit of intrigue, turning slightly to Io. “It may even be experiencing tidal heating ‘cause of that gas giant.”

“OH! A-a big, b-big version of m-me!” Io grinned happily, sitting up in his seat to get a better look.

“On this side, the punishing heat could turn the ground molten, creating rivers of lava that would crisscross the surface. The planet could experience violent eruptions, as the gravitational pull of the gas giant triggers the intense volcanism, each time it passes by.” Stark images of this volcanic world covered the screen.

“Sooo, not a living planet, then?” Titan murmured to his moon group. Luna couldn’t help but glance over at him as he spoke.

“I would seriously doubt it.” Dione replied in a monotone drawl. 

“I think that planet has bigger issues than trying to host Life.” Mimas commented critically, eyeing the rampant volcanism and lava rivers covering its surface.

“But Kepler-36b could also be a planet of ice.” The camera switched to a frozen, rocky surface. “Because if it’s tidally-locked, the far side would face permanently away from the star, and we could imagine a freezing cold hemisphere shrouded in eternal darkness.”

“Being a tidally-locked planet sounds torturous.” Luna muttered aloud, trying to imagine constantly being both too hot and too cold. “At least as a moon, all of my surface gets some sunlight eventually.”

“Yeah, at least the thing you’re locked to is interesting to look at, I guess. I wouldn’t know, personally.” Dark’s irritated response forced Luna to suppress a sigh.

You could look too, we can break from our obit, the Sun probably wouldn’t even notice. Luna was tired of offering this to his other half, but maybe this time would be the one?

“I don’t want to look at your pain-in-the-core planet. I’ll get infected by whatever disease forces you to keep defending him.”

You’re not being fair, Luna snapped back, irritated by the accusation, and the way they stung a little too close to his core. I don’t always defend him…I just don’t want any issues between us. We’re his only moon, we have to get along with him. 

“Saying you ‘don’t want any issues’ doesn’t stop the issues from existing.” Dark countered in his usual, irritating tone; the one that made Luna aware of just how much Dark saw right through him.

I’m not denying the issues…I’m just not bringing them up right this moment, as we are currently stuck in a room with the entire Solar System within ear-shot. 

“Coward.” Luna decided he’d heard enough, and didn’t dignify Dark’s insult with an answer.

“For now, this is all just informed speculation.” Brian concluded, then added. “But we are beginning to build a picture of these worlds.”

“It’s a stark picture.” Jupiter’s deep voice atoned and Luna found himself in agreement with the gas giant. Nothing about this planet seemed to suggest anything, even microbes, could survive its conditions. Despite its superficial similarities to Earth, this planet was no habitable world of Life. 

“I hope that planet is OK.” Saturn hummed to his friend. “They’re so close to that other one, and to the star…I can’t imagine that is comfortable.”

“We may never know, unfortunately.” Jupiter responded despondently. “Unless we find a way to contact other systems, this is likely the most we will ever know about them.” 

“I mean, imagine a world where the Sun stays at the same point in the sky forever, so one side of the planet is in eternal night and the other side is eternal day.” Brain was standing in a windy area of scrubland. “And even the twilight strip between day and night, we think, would suffer from extreme conditions.”

“Would it even have an atmosphere?” Mars asked with a frown. “I can’t imagine it kept a hold of one, so close to a star.”

“It is big though, and maybe volcanically active.” Luna added, “It could have a magnetosphere to protect it.”

“Huh, that’s a good point, Luna.” Mars’ reply probably shouldn’t have affected Luna as much as it did, but it felt like a step in the right direction for his plan to join in with the rocky planets more often. He still hadn’t broached the topic of card games, but even just talking freely with the other inner planets felt like a win. 

“I can’t believe you still haven’t asked them.” Dark sneered, frustration clear in his tone. “Not even the Earth? I thought you two were better now?”

I’m working on it. I can’t just ask out of nowhere, Luna felt defensive, embarrassed by Dark’s probing. 

“At this rate, you’ll be ‘working on it’ when the Sun explodes.”

“Well, if it does have an atmosphere, I can’t imagine what those temperature differences would do to the air pressure.” Earth muttered with a glance at the windy sight on screen. “I guess the Earthlings think so too.”

Luna didn’t want to admit it, but Dark’s words were starting to sound like a distinct possibility. The Earth isn’t going to suddenly know what I’m thinking. He’s made so much progress recently, but that was because me and Mercury helped. I need to help myself by actually asking. Luna nodded to himself, but the question of when to ask still hung on his mind.

“So Kepler-36b just goes to show there’s so much more to having a habitable world than just the composition of the planets.” Brian explained to the camera as wind whipped at his hair. “There’s the details of its orbits and also the nature of the other objects in the Solar System that are orbiting around the star with it.”

“They need to find a system like ours, with all the rocky worlds in the inner system, and all the gas giants further out.” The Sun nodded to himself, “It’s the best way to set up a system.”

“It’s the only way you’ve actually tried.” Planet X’s deep voice put in, a careful tone tempering his words. “And while I must admit it is a successful one, there may be more ways to achieve a living world that we mustn't dismiss.”

The Sun seemed taken aback by the planet’s words, but without any insult to be found, the star merely hummed in reply. “I suppose.”

“Kepler-36b is just one of thousands of planets that Kepler has discovered.” A wide showing of the galaxy displayed the vast number of stars it held. “We now know beyond doubt that our galaxy is home to a diverse collection of alien worlds.”

“Did they name all those stars ‘Kepler’ plus a number?” Pluto tilted his head at the screen. “Wouldn’t that get confusing?”

“Not as confusing as making up 36+ new names, I imagine.” Eris drawled in a bored tone, eyeing her friend. “You struggle to make up names in Dungeons and Dwarf planets all the time. I’m surprised you don’t number them too.”

“T-that’s not really the same thing.” Pluto stammered out, “I-I’m not naming real celestials.”

“Is-that why-you name me ‘Enda’?” Sedna joined in, a laugh in her tone. “It-is not very-creative!”

“It is too!”

“Each one of the over 4,000 planets that we’ve discovered to date is different from all the others.” Brian was walking once again, now in a sandy dune near an ocean. “They really are an alien and exotic bunch, and there’s certainly no planet that’s identical to the planets that we know of in our Solar System.”

“Oh, that is surprising.” Saturn commented, “I would’ve thought at least one would resemble one of us, even if not the Earth.”

“‘Resemble’ and ‘identical’ are very different qualifiers.” The Sun sighed, “A planet might have rings like you, but be much smaller, or a rocky world? A planet could be almost identical to you, but so much closer to its star that it looks wildly different.”

“And I think that reveals a deep truth about the Universe, because although the laws of nature that form the planets are the simple and the same everywhere, and the fundamental ingredients out of which the planets are made simple and the same everywhere, the nature of a planet also depends on the history of its formation and the environment around its parent star out of which the planet formed.”

“So, what a planet will be like is a result of its star’s past and its own past.” Mercury pondered at the human’s words. “I guess that makes sense. So many of our features are the result of past events, some even from before we woke up.”

Luna imagined that the little planet was thinking about the reveal of the last documentary, where it was suggested that Mercury was so small because of a past collision as a proto-planet. But Luna’s mind was tethered to his own reveal from that documentary, the one that killed one (two?) planets, and formed Earth and his moon. At the time, he’d been too focused on calming a frantic Earth to think too hard on the implications, but that collision is the only reason he exists at all. How much of the Earth is only because he was in that collision? He certainly wouldn't have such a disproportionately large moon without it.

“Are you still worrying about this?” Dark’s voice sounded almost kind, an unusual tone for him to adopt. “It’s all in the past, it doesn’t matter.”

Of course it matters! It could explain so much! Like why Earth is the way he is? Why was he able to keep Life going for so long? Why does he even want Life?” Luna had heard the Earth muttering that particular question so many times, he was starting to hope for an answer as well, just to calm things down. It may even explain why you exist!

“You mean, ‘why we exist?’, right?” Dark’s tone deepened into a low irritation, bordering on anger. “We both formed from that mess, I’m not some parasite you got stuck with.”

O-of course not! I’m sorry, that was not what I meant! Luna back-tracked, lost at Dark’s sudden harsh words. I’m sorry, he repeated quietly, but Dark did not reply again.

“And those are all radically different.” Brian stated firmly, “So, each planet has a different story to tell.”

“Yeah, we saw enough of that in the last doc.” Venus snarked at the screen, “We don’t need any more story-telling, thank you very much.”

“He can’t hear you, you know.” Earth teased in a mock-concerned tone. Venus whipped his head around to glare at the living planet, who merely grinned at him.

“I-I- Shut up!”

“I suppose, in that sense, the planets are like human beings.” Luna wasn’t surprised to hear Brian say this, but the gasps from the room told him this wasn’t a common opinion. 

“Hey! We aren't like the Earth’s little creatures!” Uranus exclaimed in outrage.

“You’re literally in a form resembling them right this second.” Earth pointed out in an unimpressed tone. “And, you guys do act a lot like them. They all have unique personalities and get into arguments and make friends…all the things we do.”

“But-but we’re celestials! They’re barely larger than 2 metres, the smallest known moon is 12 kilometres. ” Uranus argued back with a huff.

“Size doesn’t determine anything! I thought we’d learnt that already!” Titania snapped at her planet, and the ice giant turned to her in surprise. The conversation that followed was too low for Luna to hear, and Deimos’ loud exclamation drowned anything else out.

“Wait! That’s my diameter!”

“And this wholly unexpected but exciting discovery certainly complicates the search for Life.” The camera zoomed out to reveal the towering cliffs he was standing near, overlooking the ocean. 

“I suppose if, as they suggest, every planet is a result of specific circumstances, they’d now have to search for a planet that not only looked like Earth, but had a similar history as well.” Neptune summarised, then grinned lop-sided at the screen. “Well, I hope they find one, or this is about to get boring!”

“‘Get boring’? It’s been boring for the last Earthling hour.” Triton muttered at his planet’s side, glancing over at the dwarf planets. “I’ll be over with the dwarf planets, is that cool with you?”

“Of course, go have fun!” Neptune encouraged, and gently grabbed a few stray moons who attempted to follow the largest one. 

“We needed to narrow the search for planets further, but not too far away from their parent stars, planets at just the right distance for their surfaces potentially to be habitable.” A pan over a planetary system showed some rocky worlds. “Alien worlds with one precious ingredient that makes Earth a living planet.”

“Oxygen? Carbon? Nitrogen?” Phobos began listing elements. Luna was honestly surprised the little moon knew so many. 

“I’ll give you a hint; it’s not an element.” Luna offered with a smirk as the moon began to list a bunch of unrelated words. Mars shot him an unimpressed look, and Luna only responded with a wide grin.

Background noise of Earth-life increased as the camera sank towards the living planet’s surface, before abruptly cutting to a forest. “Now, you might legitimately ask, ‘Can we transfer all the knowledge we have of Life here on Earth to planets elsewhere in the Universe?’”

“What was with that horror-movie-ish cut?” Earth laughed lightly. “It made it sound like I was haunted by monkeys or something.”

“You basically are. If monkey ghosts exist, they exist on you specifically.” Luna joked, vaguely recalling the planet’s last explanation of what humans considered ‘hauntings’. 

“That’s a lovely thought, Luna. Thank you very much, my dear moon.” Even as sarcasm dripped from every syllable of Earth’s words, the smile on his planet’s face could only spread one to his own.

“Well, I would answer emphatically, yes, we can, because the laws of nature are universal.” Brian was treading carefully through the forest, surrounded by plants on all sides. Clips of various insect Earthlings appeared on the screen as he spoke. “So the laws of physics and chemistry that underpin biology here on this planet will apply to every planet out there in the Universe, whether we’ve discovered it or not.”

“You know, after seeing more of your Earthlings, the human ones don’t actually look that awful.” Uranus admitted reluctantly. “The others, though…horrifying.”

“Those were actually pretty nice looking ones. Some insects got really crazy-looking, especially in the past.” Earth corrected with a grin at the pale ice giant.

“Even if the laws of nature are the same on every living world, I imagine they would have far weirder beasts than even you, Earth.” Jupiter suggested thoughtfully, and Luna was glad to see some of the energy had returned to the gas giant’s eyes.

“It would be amazing to see some real aliens one day.”  

“The chemistry of Life requires a few basic ingredients…” He listed the usual suspects, oxygen, carbon, nitrogen, and iron, then explained that a good supply of energy was also needed, either planet-born or starlight. “...but Life here on Earth also requires one very important, fundamental extra ingredient, which is liquid water.”

“Of course.” Venus grumbled, a subtle weight pressing onto the cloudy planet’s shoulders. Luna had never particularly cared why Venus always seemed so upset by mentions of habitability, but after the previous documentary, some things had fallen into place. Not all of them though. Luna still sensed a deeper animosity? Longing? Anger? from the other world towards his own, and even himself. I’m sure I wouldn’t like the answer if I pushed for one. Every time I find out something new, it’s some messed up event from years ago.

“That may be true…but think of the gossip!” Luna was surprised to hear Dark again, given their last conversion. He’d half expected the other side to just go back to sleep, or continue not talking to Luna as a form of protest.

You’re the gossip hoarder around here, not me. 

“Liquid water is a deceptively complicated substance.” Brian was sitting next to a high waterfall, the faint rushing of it reminding Luna of his planet. “It’s a very powerful solvent, but it also has structures which are constantly forming and disappearing within it, which act as a kind of scaffolding around which biology happens.”

“That made…literally no sense to me.” Titan got out as Brian paused in his sentence. 

“Uh, OK, so you know Life is made out of proteins? Which are amino acid chains?” At the nod from Titan, Earth continued to explain. “Well, these proteins are folded in very particular ways so that they can react with other things. This is vital for Life. Water, specifically hydrogen bonds, can help these protein chains fold into the correct shape that they need. Misfolded proteins are actually surprisingly dangerous in some situations.”

“OK…I think I’m following you so far.” Titan said hesitantly, looking far more confused than Luna had ever seen before. This is why I tell Earth not to try explaining Life stuff, it’s way too confusing. 

“Well, water also periodically moves and re-orientates its molecules, and this in turn affects any proteins dissolved in the water, possibly helping reactions this way as well.” Earth continued, oblivious to the Satunian moon’s growing confusion. “It also acts as a transportation method for an organism's cells. It can let in water with dissolved minerals pretty easily!”

“I think he’s heard enough, Earth.” Mars muttered to his friend, who turned his head in surprise to study the confused moon. 

“Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away.” The living planet apologized, then added with a smile. “I’d be happy to go over more of it later!” 

“I’ll have to get back to you on that.” Titan smiled politely in reply.

“Organic molecules are oriented by that scaffolding so they can react together.” The camera focused on the waterfall, watching the splashes of water turn white as they fell. “Now, it is certain that every living thing here on Earth requires liquid water to survive.”

“Does it have to be water? Is there no other molecule that could do the same things?” Uranus asked in disbelief. “There must be at least one?”

“None that the Earthlings have found, I’m afraid.” Jupiter replied calmly, watching the pale ice giant with a careful gaze. “Water appears to be uniquely well suited for this.”

“And, I would say it is a very good assumption that every living thing anywhere out there in the Universe will require it too.” Brian turned his face to the waterfall as the music swelled momentarily and the camera panned down the rushing water.

“They went looking for a water world next, I suppose?” Luna asked his planet, turning to face the blue-green world he’d known his entire existence. Earth grinned in reply, throwing his arm around the moon.

“Yep!” He exclaimed, then added in a milder tone, “I wonder if they found any? I mean-I can’t be the only living world in the entire galaxy? That would be silly!”

“Would you mind? If they did find another world?” Luna asked carefully, well aware that he was treading on dangerous ground. The Earth’s face twisted into a brief grimace before smoothing back out into his usual grin. “You know it wouldn’t change how much they need you. Any new world would be so foreign to them, they would be-”

“It’s fine, Luna, I know they wouldn’t just up and leave.” Earth silenced him with his interruption, continuing in a neutral tone. “I think I’d be more curious than anything. I’d want to talk to them.” 

“‘Cause of the Life thing?” Luna ventured, reluctant to say the question aloud. “Why do you think they’d have the answer? Anymore than our Solar System does?”

“They’d have an answer, even if it’s not mine.” Earth argued his point. “If I can’t ask the planets I really want to ask, I’ll have to settle for other living planets that might have a similar story. You heard Brian, a planet is defined by their past. I just want to know mine.”

“I don’t think Brian meant it like that!” Luna protested, feeling a bit hypocritical as Dark laughed at him in his mind. “Even if you found the answer to your question, would it really change anything? You’d still have the same Life you have right now, and the same memories and friends! Isn’t that more important than why you wanted Life in the first place?”

Earth’s expression was suddenly far more closed off; not angry, but wary, eyeing Luna carefully. His tone was further away as he spoke, and his head turned back to the screen. “I know it won’t change anything, but I still have a right to know. I want to stop wondering so much about this part of my core that seems so determined to have Life.” 

“OK, I can’t say I understand, but I won’t keep questioning you about this.” Luna admitted defeat, far too tired of this tension to keep igniting this argument. “I still won’t let you do anything too stupid, though.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” The tone was warmer again, and the arm around his shoulders curled closer. Luna could still feel his own frustration broiling under his crust, but it was calmer now. More akin to pillow lava than an outright eruption of sheet lava. I suppose I can’t keep bothering him about this, now.

“I have no idea why you agreed to that.” Dark finally spoke up, having kept blessedly quiet during the talk with their planet. “You and I both know you’re not going to be able to keep your mouth shut if he starts talking crazy again.”

He wasn’t talking crazy, Luna defended, he just wanted to explore the idea of time-travel.

“Well, considering it’s impossible, that sounds like crazy talk to me.” Dark countered, “Either way, now you’re stuck protecting a planet that’ll probably go charging off into interstellar space if the Earthlings actually find something!”

I’ll stop him, if it comes to that, Luna tried to sound certain, tried to feel certain, but even he could hear the weakness behind that statement. I’ll try to. I can’t let him down again!

Chapter Text

As the documentary continued on, Luna spared a quick glance around the rest of the room, trying to turn without disturbing Earth’s arm on his shoulder. Specifically, he looked to the other moons, his friends. From his vantage point, he could only see a glimpse of the ice giants’ moons. Titania still seemed angry, frustration lining her face despite the other Uranuian moons around her talking quietly about the documentary. Proteus seemed to have taken Triton’s spot beside his siblings, gazing at Planet X with curiosity. Over at the dwarf planets, Triton’s expression was carefully neutral, fixed firmly on Uranus and Planet X. 

The Galilean moons hadn’t moved from their place in front of Jupiter, but they were noticeably closer together, whispering amongst themselves. Luna couldn’t help the pre-emptive caution that spread over his core at the sight of Ganymede’s scheming face. While Europa and Ganymede had made leaps and bounds towards redeeming themselves from the Moon Revolution, Luna was still reluctant to trust them fully. He had received no apology for how they’d attacked his planet or the other rocky worlds, and while that also wasn’t something he’d even demanded, it would've been nice to get one.

Finally, Luna let his gaze travel to the Saturnian moons, immediately zeroing in on Titan. The green-orange moon was fixated on the screen, a furrow in his brow as the water fell across it. In all their previous conversations, Titan had never seemed particularly interested in learning the specifics of Life, but this episode appeared to have caught his attention. I hope that means he’ll visit us more often.

“Ugh.” Was Dark’s only contribution to this.

“The Universe is filled with water.” The camera was submerged below the blue liquid, looking up at a light. “Great reservoirs have been detected throughout the galaxy amongst the gas clouds of giant nebulae. But just because water is plentiful, that doesn’t mean that it necessarily ends up in oceans on planetary surfaces.”

“Yeah, it ended up in us! The icy moons!” Tethys grinned, nudging his fellow moon Enceladus, who did not look nearly as excited. 

“Or in asteroids, or ice giants, or rings.” Dione droned out a list, “Honestly, I’m not surprised most water doesn’t end up on a warm planet, given how many other places it can go.”

“Of the eight planets in our Solar System, only one has liquid water flowing permanently on its surface today.” The screen faded from a galaxy, to show the surface of Earth, hovering near the oceans. “An ocean world where, long ago, Life began.”

While the rest of the room were watching the ocean turn beneath the camera, Luna cast a look at the two rocky worlds he knew used to have water as well. Mars showed no sign that he’d picked up on Brian’s careful wording around the permanence of liquid water on a planet’s surface. Even though the humans seemed unsure, they still held that theory about melt-water on Mars’ surface, and Luna was curious whether the red planet knew if it rang true. 

Venus, on the other hand, was doing a poor job of hiding any reaction to that statement. The cloudy planet was scowling at the screen with bitter eyes, and as Luna watched, he turned away from it with a frustrated sigh. I hope this doesn’t put him in too bad a mood. I’m really tired of watching Earth and him argue every five minutes.

“That’s optimistic of you.” Dark added, “He’s been in ‘too bad a mood’ for as long as I’ve been awake.”

I wish I could disagree with that, Luna sighed internally, but I honestly can’t.

“Around 4 billion years ago, Life on Earth would have begun,” Brian was walking along a riverside, bending down to touch the rocks. “Probably in places not dissimilar to this, where there’s geothermal activity; a source of energy in contact with rich concentrations of reactive chemical elements and minerals,”

“Back to the muddy pools again.” Venus sneered with an eyeroll, and Luna felt Earth tense at his side. Oh great, I jinxed it.

“Hey!-” 

“BOTH OF YOU, QUIET! Stop antagonising each other!” The Sun interrupted, glaring at the two rocky planets as they shrank back from the star’s anger. At his side, Jupiter watched the scene with a mildly surprised expression, but made no move to intervene.

“Wanna bet how long that will last?” Mercury’s unexpected whisper in his ear made the moon jump, but he turned to the smallest planet with an amused smile.

“Sure! I’ll give them at least 10 minutes.” 

“But also, crucially, that -the magical solvent- liquid water.” Brian pointed at the river.

“I’ve never been forced to think so much about water before.” Mars sighed, “It certainly seems lucky that it exists in such large quantities, even if only as ice.”

“I mean, if it didn’t, Life either wouldn’t exist at all, or would have been forced to use a different compound.” Luna pondered, trying to imagine Life that evolved without water. From all angles, it seemed impossible, an amazing chance of the Universe.

“Now, many rocky planets out there in the galaxy will probably have this,” He pointed at the rocks, “But far fewer, we think, will have that -large bodies of liquid water on the surface.”

“I presume they’re specifying ‘liquid water on the surface’ to exclude us moons.” Europa muttered with a scoff. “Typical.”

“I mean, it is an important distinction.” Callisto drawled at her side. “It already told us how vital the Sun’s light was for Life. Any Life in underground oceans isn’t going to have access to that.”

“M-maybe it w-would also be h-harder to find? I-I mean, t-they’re j-just using shadows and s-stuff, aren't t-they?” Io stammered out to his fellow moons. 

“I suppose that may have had an impact.”

“So that’s why there’s a kind of catchphrase in the astrobiology community, which is ‘if you want to search for Life, follow the water.’” Brian explained to the camera.

“They have catchphrases for this?” Uranus asked incredulously. “How long have they been looking?”

“Not long! But they love making catchphrases for everything, honestly.” Earth explained animatedly. “They use words to pass knowledge down generations, and catchphrases are a good way to do that when you can’t write it down yet.”

‘2.4 billion years ago’ appeared below a small star being born. “Whilst Life on Earth was evolving, 124 light-years away, amidst a collapsing cloud of gas, dust and ice, a small star was born.” An unfamiliar Oort cloud swirled around the young star. 

“Another star?” Saturn peered at the screen with intrigue, eyes curious as the room watched a new, unknown star come to life. 

“A small one as well.” Jupiter muttered in surprise. “I suppose if an Earth-like planet would be anywhere, it would be around a star similar to our own.”

Luna wondered what that star would be like. It was hard to imagine a star as anything other than wrathful and volatile, but the last episode made it clear that not every star is the same, and the Sun may in fact be relatively calm, as hard as that was to believe. Are all stars like our Sun the same? Is that pre-disposition towards orbit-enforcement and fear of planet destruction a requirement for any star that wants a planet with Life. Do most stars even want Life?

“Well, I find it hard to imagine a living planet growing up anywhere else.” Dark added thoughtfully. “The amount of stability needed would require a strict star.”

“And the cloud-swirling leftovers condensed to form a brand-new world.” A small disruption was seen in the Oort cloud, a new planet named K2-18b. “In 2015, Kepler found a planet orbiting comfortably within its star’s habitable zone.”

“It looks blue, at least.” Mars noted, turning his eyes to the living world beside him. Earth was peering at the screen with an expression Luna was reluctant to read into. Did they really find another water world?

“Blue doesn't necessarily mean water.” Venus put in with a frown of doubt. 

“Yeah, but in the habitable zone, you’d be hard-pressed to find another explanation.” Mercury countered, adding in a frustrated tone. “Either way, we don’t know if it’s actually blue, or if the Earthlings are just being optimistic again.”

“More than eight times the mass of the Earth, K2-18b is a giant,” The camera hovered over the massive blue cloudy planet, watching as a meteorite burned up in its atmosphere. “With a powerful gravitational pull.”

“OK, it being a rocky planet is sounding less likely.” Pluto’s doubtful voice carried from the back where the dwarf planets sat. “Neptune is only 4 times the diameter of Earth.”

“It said mass, not diameter.” Triton corrected. “And Neptune’s mass is 17 times that of Earth’s.”

“Indeed.” Makemake joined in. “I wonder how many readings they actually managed to get of this planet. It would be fascinating to see how much they can determine just from a few shadows.”

“If this planet is rocky, this may have allowed it to hang on to a thick atmosphere.” The burning rock fell through layers of clouds. “K2-18b might have all the makings of a water world.”

“So they don’t even know for certain if it’s rocky?” Uranus’ sigh of annoyance was answered by a pointed silence. No one seemed interested in engaging the ice giant, and Luna could understand why. I thought he was making progress after the last documentary? I mean, we've been trying to say his name properly.

“Do you really think that was the sole issue?” Dark hissed, “I doubt all of his frustration was solved by merely correcting the pronunciation of his name. The name was the least of his issues, as far as I can tell.”

When did you start paying that much attention to ice giants anyway? Luna countered, not entirely sure he had a good reply to Dark’s statement.

“When I sensed drama.” Dark chuckled. “You know me well enough to guess that yourself.”

“And a legendary space telescope had Kepler’s new discovery in its sights.” Luna found that he recognized the telescope that moved onto the screen. ‘Hubble Space Telescope’ appeared in one corner. “The most powerful space telescope of them all had joined the hunt.”

“Hubble!” Luna and his planet spoke simultaneously, then turned to each other in surprise. Earth burst out laughing and Luna could do nothing but follow his example.

“What is so special about this ‘Hubble’?” Saturn asked wonderingly, watching the two with a bemused expression. 

“It’s one of the biggest Space Telescopes the Earthlings have ever made!” Earth explained with a grin of excitement. “It orbits me elliptically, so the Earthlings can send missions to it for maintenance, and that means it’ll be operational for a long time. It's already done 30 years!”

“I just like the pictures it brought back!” Luna added, recalling a few he’d been shown by the Earth over the years. “The nebula ones are always brilliant to see.”

“Hubble examined the light from K2-18b’s parent star as the planet passed in front of it, and detected what may be a faint signature of water vapor.” The screen cut to the rumbling thunderstorm over a vast ocean.

“And that is enough to suggest K2-18b is a water world?” Callisto mumbled, her signature expression of boredom masking any other emotions the speckled moon might have.

“I-I mean, w-what else c-can they even g-go off o-of?” Io shrugged, “I-if that H-hubble thing is r-really the best t-they’ve got?”

“They should just send a probe. They did that to literally everyone else.” Europa sighed, adding pre-emptively to Callisto’s frown, “I know it would take awhile, but they could at least try, yah know?”

“It would take 124 years for a probe going as fast as light itself to get there.” Jupiter revealed with a thoughtful expression on his face. “I don’t believe they are even close to achieving such a fast-moving probe.”

“124 light-years from Earth, we may have at last found the evidence of water on an alien world.” The camera was now following Brian, speeding along in a boat. “This was the first observation of water vapour in the atmosphere of a planet orbiting in the habitable zone around its star.” 

“I would certainly be curious to know of another star who was able to keep a water world.” The Sun reflected, casting a glance at Mars and Venus. “It’s quite hard to maintain them long-term, I’ve found.” 

“If the Earthlings are right, this star is younger than you. You may be able to offer advice.” Jupiter suggested with a careful look at his star. Luna got the sense that the largest planet was examining his star more closely than usual. Something’s changed. I hope his moons can find out the details, or I’m going to die of curiosity.

“I can’t understand why you think I’m the only one who loves drama.” Dark snarked, “You’re just as bad!”

“I suppose that is true, Jupiter.” The star also appeared to have picked up on the odd atmosphere between them, carefully speaking each word while watching his planet. “Though, the distance is still an insurmountable barrier, regardless.”

“Now, admittedly, measurements of the amount of water vapor in the atmosphere is pretty wide. It’s somewhere between 0.01% and 50%.” Brian explained to the camera as the boat dipped and rose below him. “I mean, this is a planet that’s a long way away.”

“That is definitely a wide margin.” Mars considered the screen, following the dips and rises of the boat with his eyes. “Granted, it’s impressive that they got a reading at all, from something so far away.”

Luna had to agree. Despite his trepidation about what his planet would do with such information, it was still amazing to find out the humans had discovered a way to find water in exo-planet atmospheres. And, while they would never meet them, Luna couldn’t help but wonder at the thought of another ocean world, just as beautiful and Life-filled as his own planet. I wonder if they have a moon as well? Maybe lots of moons!

“I mean, from the size of it, I’d imagine it would have moons.” Dark agreed, and Luna thought he detected a faint feeling of twin excitement from his stoic other half.

“But, for comparison, our planet has a few percent water vapor in its atmosphere. So, that observation is important for two reasons. One is, it is not zero. There is water vapor in the atmosphere.”

“So, only a small percentage of water vapor is needed?” Neptune asked, considering the screen with interest. “I would've thought an ocean world would need more than that?”

“Water and water vapor are two different things. A small amount of water vapor probably implies that a water cycle is present.” Jupiter offered, and Neptune smiled at the new information. “If there was a lot of water vapor, I doubt it would be a planet with a surface ocean.”

“But secondly, if the measurement is at the lower end, a few percent water vapor in the atmosphere, then that is consistent with this world being a planet with oceans on its surface.” Brian pointed out to the waves surrounding him. 

Watching the dips and rises of the boat, and Brian’s attempts to stay on his feet, reminded Luna of the Earthling songs Earth once shared with him. Ones about the ferocity and unpredictability of the waves, and how ships and lives were lost to the depth of Earth’s oceans. Even his tides could strand boats or drown unsuspecting Earthlings caught in coves.  It’s hard to remember it from my distant orbit, but I suppose I do have a significant impact on my planet’s Lifeforms.

“Oh! I think I understand.” Neptune grinned at the screen, turning to Jupiter happily. “Wow, I wish I knew more about that water cycle thing. It sounds complicated!”

“I’m sure Earth would be happy to lend you a text about it.” Jupiter seemed mildly surprised at Neptune’s interest in this topic, but pleased all the same. Behind Jupiter, Luna caught a glimpse of Uranus watching the interaction with an odd expression.

“The nature of this planet is currently the subject of intense scientific debate.” The screen had switched to a stormy atmosphere. “The planet may be more like a mini-Neptune, a gas planet.”

“A mini-Neptune!” Proteus giggled, turning to look at his planet. “That would be so awesome! A tiny version of you!”

“Kid, it would still be bigger than Earth, by a wide margin.” Triton corrected from his seat beside the dwarf planets. “I’d hardly call that a tiny planet.”

“Yeah, but it would be small for a gas giant!”

It was hard to picture a gas giant so close to a star, especially one with water vapor present. The ‘hot-Jupiters’ from before had made sense; big balls of heat and pressure. But this, a water giant, was a very odd concept to grasp. Would it be wet? Or just cool and airy? Would the pressure be large enough to melt the core, like with our gas giants?  

“But it is possible to dream of a rocky alien world with skies full of clouds, where water droplets collect and eventually fall, feeding vast oceans that cover the surface of a massive planet.” The camera fell with a water droplet as it dived towards the ocean surface of a planet covered in storm clouds. The huge ocean was all that could be seen in any direction. “A water world, where the elixir of Life is in plentiful supply.”

Luna found himself almost entranced by the vision the screen was painting. The endless ocean, covered by a blue sky full of rain clouds, and nothing but waves to break the reflective surface. I can’t even begin to imagine what manner of Life could evolve in such a place. 

“I wish we could visit it.” The Earth’s quiet mutterings at his side sent the moon right back to nervous trepidation. The thin line between understanding his planet’s desire for answers and his own desire to avoid anything dangerous happening to his oldest friend was quickly becoming more and more blurry. No, I promised not to keep questioning him about this. It’s not fair of me to pre-emptively assume he’ll do something like…

“A silly promise, as I said before.” Dark butted in, his smug tone winding down to one of tired sympathy. “ If he didn’t want you assuming he’ll do something stupid, he shouldn’t have done something stupid that first time.”

Will you shut up! I don’t want to think about it, so stop reminding me, Luna hissed, feeling a vulnerable anger burning his core, and stop calling it stupid!

“See this, right here, is a problem.” Dark muttered, and despite the calm of his voice, Luna only felt more enraged by it. “If you’re going to explode every time I try to get you to talk about this, how are you ever going to talk to Earth about it?”

I-I…

“That’s right, you’re not going to, are you?” Dark’s usual frustration was mixing in with his forced calm, creating a strange tension in their link. " And that’s the whole problem, you never-”

SHUT UP! Luna cringed at the volume of his own internal shout, curling slightly in his seat. The Earth turned to him with a concerned question in his eyes, but Luna ignored him in favour of his internal world. Just…stop, please? I-I can’t talk to him about this, I just can’t.

“Why not?” Dark asked, the kind tone back in his voice as he sent a wave of worry across the bond between their minds. “I just want to understand. I’m worried this won’t get better if I don’t push you a bit, but I’m sorry.”

Luna didn’t know what to say. His mind was carefully blank, and every time he tried to touch it, memories of that horrible day resurfaced like a plume of lava. As cruel as it felt, Luna stayed silent against Dark’s words, copying his other half’s favourite argument-ender.

In the external world, Earth had pressed his head against the top of Luna’s and was gently hugging him. The living planet was muttering something Luna couldn’t quite make out, but the emotion in it told him it was an apology. Luna wanted to respond, to reassure his planet that it wasn’t something he’d done, but the words seemed locked in his mind, unable to cross the barrier into his mouth. I made him worry…I’m sorry, Earth.

“K2-18b is exciting because it’s the smallest world with an atmosphere we’ve been able to analyse, and we’ve found that its mass and density, composition of its atmosphere and its orbits are consistent with it being a world with water.” Brian was still bobbing around on the boat. “And it might be a world with oceans on its surface.”

“Wait, that’s the smallest they’ve analysed?” Mercury asked, “It’s 8 times bigger than Earth! I thought they were looking for Earth-sized ones.”

“I would imagine analysing the atmosphere of a smaller world would be far more difficult.” The Sun muttered in reply, “I’m sure those crafty little Earthlings will find more eventually.”

“We don’t know for sure. But just imagine what that small, faraway world around a faint red star might be like.”

“It is wonderful to imagine an ocean world so far away.” Saturn sighed with awe. “Oh, just the idea of these other planets is making me so excited! Oh, Earth, please keep me updated about their search!”

“Sure, Saturn.” His planet nodded to the gas giant, raising his head from Luna’s. He peered down at his moon with a questioning look and a quieter tone. “Are you OK? You looked upset, but I couldn’t work out why.”

“I-it’s nothing. I’m just being silly.” Luna dismissed, but as the Earth moved to extract himself from the hug, Luna couldn’t stop himself from grabbing one of his arms. The living planet gave him a considering look, before gently wrapping the arm around Luna again. The moon relaxed, trying to calm his mind and racing core. 

“Kepler went on to make many more discoveries until, in October 2018, it finally ran out of fuel.” The screen began to zoom out of the star map Kelper had created. “After nine years, it had found over 2,500 alien worlds, showing us just how common potentially Earth-like planets might be.”

“Some of them must have Life!” Tethys exclaimed, “If Titan definitely has some, and Enceladus might as well, then it must be pretty common in an entire galaxy!”

“I mean, not necessarily.” Rhea suggested, looking over at the Sun. “Maybe only certain star-types can support living planets? And our system is just oddly suited for it?”

“I think the Earthlings have considered that.” Iapetus corrected, “But, you have a point. We don’t know exactly what is needed in a planetary system for a living planet to exist.”

“And, anyway, my Life is tiny, barely evolved at all.” Titan added with a forcibly-dismissive tone in his voice. “It barely counts.”

“We estimate that there may be around 20 billion potentially Earth-like worlds -that’s rocky planets in the habitable zone around a star that may support liquid water on the surface- in our galaxy.” Brian was now walking along a beach. “That is 20 billion potential homes for Life.”

“Well, the Earthlings seem to think it’s pretty common.” Luna spoke up, turning in his seat to face Titan. The green-orange moon flashed a surprised look at him, smiling as their eyes met. “Your Life definitely counts! Astrodude just needs to get back to his home!”

“Yeah, and when that happens, that’s all they’ll be talking about for years!” Earth joined in, “You’ll be swarmed with probes by the end of the decade!”

“Oh, great.” Enceladus muttered at Titan’s side, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. “Well, they better not crash into me like Cassini almost did.”

“They did not almost crash into you.” Dione corrected in a snarky tone.

“Now, we don’t know the probability that, given the right conditions, Life will begin on a planet, but we do have evidence from our world.” The screen was turned to a pair of gulls, standing by the ocean. “What we know is that here on Earth, Life began pretty much as soon as it could after the Earth had formed and cooled down and the oceans formed on its surface.”

“If that is true, then did the other rocky worlds have Life, even if only briefly?” Planet X asked, sounding oddly curious. Luna was reminded that this planet was pretty new to the system and never saw the last documentary. I imagine this is all a bit confusing for him.

“We don’t know. The Earthlings seem to think they’ll find some evidence of past Life on my surface, but they haven’t found it yet.” Mars caught the ice giant up, and turned a searching look towards Venus. The cloudy planet merely scowled in response. 

“And, well, Venus…” Mars began, but as he spoke, the glare from Venus intensified until Mars’ voice trailed off. Planet X was watching the two rocky planets carefully, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

“So that might suggest that whilst there isn’t a sense of inevitability about the origin of Life given the right conditions, it might at least be reasonably probable.” Brian was sitting on a rock, overlooking the ocean as the Sun set in the background “So I think that there is at least a chance that Life may have begun on some, perhaps many, of those 20 billion Earth-like worlds out there in our galaxy.”

“I hope so!” Thalassa, one of Neptune’s small moons, exclaimed in excitement. “The Earthlings could be friends with them!”

“Being friends with any early Life might be a bit difficult.” Saturn considered, glancing over at Titan. “Did Astrodude make friends with your Lifeform?”

“Ah, no, I don’t think so?” Titan frowned in thought. “He sort of just bottled it and ran off, I genuinely have no idea what it really looks like, let alone if it can communicate.”

“Well, we’ll need to find him and ask.” Saturn nodded, like this was a completely reasonable quest and not something Luna had been trying to do for months now. 

“But I think there are two questions about Life. One question is about the origin and existence of microbes. But often, when we speak about aliens, what we really mean is not microbes but complex creatures. We need things that we can speak to, civilizations.”

“Didn’t they already try to send out a ‘hello’ to the Universe?” Mercury questioned, “Did they ever hear back?”

“Not as far as I’m aware, no.” The living planet shook his head. 

“Wasn’t that thing full of random sounds? How would anyone work out it was a ‘hello’?” Venus questioned with a frown. “I just think it wasn’t the best plan they could’ve come up with.”

“And you could come up with a better one?” Earth doubtfully returned.

“Yeah, actually, I could!”

“Let’s hear it then?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“You don’t need to hear it. It’s too good, you’ll steal it!”

As the two planets bickered, Luna found Mercury’s gaze and grinned. The smallest planet held up nine fingers with a smirk. The moon forced himself to stifle a laugh.

“What is the probability there will be other civilizations out there in the Milky Way?”

Luna had never truly considered it from this angle. When he thought of other living worlds, he only saw another planet covered in green and blue, filled with a myriad of strange creatures. Trying to picture a Lifeform like the humans, one capable of transforming the very surface and air of their planet in just a few years, was more difficult than Luna had expected. What would they even look like? How would they communicate with the humans, even if they did have their own languages?

“Isn’t there like a million books and stories about this exact thing?” Dark’s voice returned, hesitantly offering his usual snarky commentary. " I’m sure I’ve heard Earth mention them before.”

There are, Luna returned, not sure how to broach the apology he needed to offer his other half, I’m sorry, for shouting at you. 

“I’m sorry as well. I know that ‘event’ isn’t something I should be shoving in your face.” Dark replied, then ruined it by adding, “It is still something we’ll need to talk about…”

Not here, not now.

“OK.”

“Well, again, the answer is we don’t know.” Brian admitted. “But there are observations we can make, patterns we can see in the Milky Way, that might allow us to make an educated guess.”

“It’s always patterns with these guys. Guessing and patterns.” The Sun exclaimed, peering at the human on screen. “I don’t know why they can’t leave something alone. They didn’t have all these theories and guesses a few years ago!”

“Well, ‘a few years ago’ they were still fighting for their food every day, just like the rest of the Earthlings.” Earth countered, coming to the defence of his Lifeforms. “That’s what makes them so special! They’re the only ones to start really noticing these big patterns!”

‘Civilization, from the Latin ‘civitas’ or ‘city’’ faded into the corner as the camera panned over a city. Humans could be seen walking around it. “We don’t know precisely how we highly intelligent, complex creatures came to be here.”

“Is that a city?” Uranus squinted at the harsh glare of the screen as the shadowed forms of humans walked by. “I know you said you don’t mind them, but I can’t say they look terribly nice. Too many sharp edges.”

“They don’t all look like that.” Earth tried to defend, but Luna wasn’t actually sure that he’d be able to back that statement up. As far as the moon could see, most of the cities looked very similar indeed. “I mean, that one is called London, and I can tell because some of those buildings are very specific to London alone.”

“I’ll take your word for it, mate.”

“But we do know for certain that Life on Earth didn’t begin this way.” More shots of humans traveling around their crowded city passed by the screen. “We are the product of a story that has been playing out for over a quarter of the age of the Universe, from microbes, to a global technological civilization reaching out for others.”

“Not a lot of colour going on with those Earthlings, is there?” Mars muttered, watching the drably-coloured pedestrians pass by the screen. “I thought your Life was quite colourful, especially the male ones?”

“Well, like I said, this is London.” Earth smirked as if this was a joke the rest of the room was supposed to understand, then sighed at the lack of response. “Never mind! They aren't colourful ‘cause Human males usually aren't, unlike birds. But, they can be colourful! These ones just don’t want to, I guess?”

“If you say so, dude.”

“For now, at least, we remain surrounded by silence.” Brian was standing in the city, huge skyscrapers rising around him. “The messages we’ve sent out into the cosmos remain unanswered, and the telescopes we use to scan the skies for alien signals remain quiet.”

“Oh, I suppose they really haven’t heard back from those Voyager records, then.” Mercury’s voice sounded oddly disappointed. 

“I mean, they can’t be completely alone, can they?” Saturn’s question remained unanswered by the room, who were exchanging hesitant, unsure glances.

“I suppose we will just have to wait and see.” Jupiter spoke up, his deep voice drawing the attention of the room. As the gas giant returned his gaze to the screen, the room mirrored him.

“Now, that’s not to say, of course, that there aren’t other civilizations out there.” Brian tried for a more positive tone. “We may have been looking for the wrong thing in the wrong place.”

“Optimistic.” Planet X commented from the back of the room. 

“But I think the answer to the question of the great silence can be found here on Earth, because, here, it took 4 billion years of stability for a civilization to emerge. That is a vast amount of time.”

“Would it have taken longer? If that asteroid never hit?” Oberon, unexpectedly, spoke up. The moon was looking at the Earth with curious eyes, shifting forward to see better.

“Um…” Luna half-expected Earth to deflect the question, to avoid it entirely. His planet very rarely brought up the dinosaurs willingly, and certainly never wanted to discuss their extinction in depth. Oberon seemed to pick up on the planet’s hesitation, shrinking back with an embarrassed expression.

“Oh! I’m sorry-I didn’t mean to-” 

“It’s OK! I’m just not sure how to answer your question.” The Earth assured the nervous moon, continuing in a speculative voice. “I don’t really know if intelligent Life would have ever come from my dinosaurs, to be honest. The situations that influenced human evolution were pretty specific. But who knows? Maybe there could've been intelligent dinosaurs?”

“And when we look to the other worlds out there in the Milky Way, it’s those two things -stability and time- that appear to be very rare commodities indeed.” 

“It always seems to be coming back to this stability issue.” Pluto pondered, “Is the rest of the galaxy really that unstable?”

“Entropy! Ha ha ha!” Ceres’ creepy voice caught Luna off guard. I wish they wouldn’t laugh like that.

“I suppose that’s what the Earthlings are about to investigate.” Eris nodded to the screen as it switched to a new sight. 

A rocket was shown flying into space. The name ‘Gaia Space Observatory’ appeared in the corner. “In 2013, the European Space Agency launched the Gaia Space Telescope. Its mission? To survey the stars of our galaxy, the Milky Way. Billions of stars have been mapped.” The telescope slowly revealed a large shimmering sail. “Each star a potential host for alien worlds. And patterns are already beginning to emerge.”

“Gaia? Isn’t that one of your old names?” Luna turned to his planet. The Earthlings had given his planet so many different names over the years, it was hard to keep track. 

“Uh, one of them. It was the Greek version of the goddess though, so it’s like calling Mars, Ares or Mercury, Hermes.” Earth replied, casting quick glances at the planets in question. While the Sun still occasionally used these names, most of the planets disliked hearing them. Luna and Earth never got a clear answer as to why, but after the Theia mess, Luna couldn’t help but suspect they might be connected. 

“Not all stars exist alone.” A bright star was shown, and as they watched, a second star emerged from behind the first, just as vibrant. “Some have company.”

“Wooh!” Deimos grinned at the screen, pointing at the two orbiting stars, as his planet tried in vain to get him back into his seat. “Look! Two stars!”

“That would be so cool to orbit!” Phobos joined in with a laugh.

“Might be a bit too bright.” Mercury watched the sight with an air of distaste. 

“And bizarre as they seem, Gaia has discovered around a million of these binary or multiple star systems.” The two stars hung beside each other, an impossibly odd sight to the watching room. 

“They really are just two stars that orbit each other?” Uranus questioned in surprise, then eyed the Sun warily. “Somehow, I don’t think having two Sun’s would make a system terribly stable.”

Luna himself was finding it hard to picture. The Sun had dominion over them in this system, but how would that work for a binary system? Would the two stars rule together? Or would they just divide the planets between them? Would they even focus on the planets at all, when they had each other for company? Gosh, imagine being stuck with two stars who hate each other…arguing for eternity.

“Bit like us, then.” Dark commented mildly, causing Luna’s expression to twist in shock.

I don’t hate you. 

“Really? You certainly don’t seem to like me, at the very least.” Dark’s voice had a playful quality that Luna couldn’t untangle enough to tell if his words were sincere or teasing. 

I-I like you! You’re basically my other half! I can’t hate you.

“Oh, so this is an obligation for you, not a choice?” Dark probed, his voice quickly losing the playful edge. 

Neither of us chose this! 

“Exactly, and if you could have chosen, you’d be rid of me in an instant.” Dark sneered, and Luna found himself shrinking into himself again.

You’re not being fair. You’d do the same!

“Yep! But I’m not trying to deny that we hate each other.”

I-I don’t hate you! Dark, I’ve known you my whole life! If we could be separated, I’d do it so we’d both be free to live independently. I hate our situation, not you. Luna struggled to word his thoughts, panic settling into his core at the idea of Dark thinking he hated him. I don’t hate you.

“...”  

Dark’s silence unnerved Luna further, pushing him to desperately ask, do you hate me? Truly? 

“...no, I suppose not.” Dark mumbled, a defeated tone infecting what should've been a reassuring statement. “I fear it would get quite boring without your constant drama.”

“We’ve known for a long time that binary star systems and, indeed, multiple star systems exist, but we didn’t know precisely how common they are.” Brian was walking around a grassy, green field under an open blue sky. “But now we have a huge amount of high-precision data, including the Gaia data, which tells us that around 50% of all Sun-like stars are in multiple star systems. And for more massive stars, that number is 80%.” 

“It’s so common?” Mars sounded amazed at the idea. “So not all stars are alone? It’s like a 50/50 chance?”

“How many stars can be in one system?” Jupiter queried, casting a hesitant, wary look at his star. The Sun was focused on the screen, a furrow burning its way into his brow, but turned his head at the words from his first planet.

“I-I don’t know. I imagine there’s no real limit, but getting so many massive bodies to orbit each other long-term would be a miracle.” The star admitted, an almost longing look in his eyes as he turned back to the screen. “Regardless, such a system is inherently unstable.”

“So how does the prevalence of multiple star systems in the galaxy shift the odds in the hunt for another Earth? Could Earth-like planets exist in multiple star systems? And if so, what might their fate be?”

“No-good one.” The red dwarf planet’s quiet words caught Luna’s ear. 

“Hu ha ha, gravity! Ha aha ha, sooo far!” Ceres giggled at her side. Charon, Pluto’s moon, turned to the laughing dwarf planet with a confused frown.

“What are they going on about now?” Pluto asked, also watching the giggling planet. 

“I’m sure it’ll make sense eventually.” Charon assured her planet, offering a nudge to the giggling dwarf planet. “You just need us to listen better, don’t you?”

“Ha aha aha!”

“In 2020, we may have found a clue, a planet the size of Mars floating freely through the galaxy,” The screen panned over a dark, frozen rocky planet. “A so-called ‘rogue world.’”

“R-rouge p-planets!” Io stammered in fear, bringing his hands to his eyes to shield them. “O-oh no, I d-don’t wanna see t-that!”

The room was equally reluctant to gaze upon such a sight. A planet, alone, completely adrift in the void of space, never to see the light of a star. The image hung heavy in their minds, and the few who could turn away did so quickly. 

A shiver passed through Luna’s body as he recalled a vague memory of Venus telling a story about a rogue planet, sent mad by isolation and darkness, roaming the galaxy for naughty young planets to destroy. That idea of a mad celestial bursting out of the void between stars had kept both him and his planet awake for many an orbit. When a younger Luna had pictured such a world, it had always been huge, as big as Jupiter at least. But, the Earthlings were now presenting a rogue planet, a monster from old horror stories, as a world barely larger than Mars. And, apparently, the Earthlings had even named it. OGLE-2016-BLG-192B? What kind of name is that?

“But planets can’t form alone in interstellar space, so where did it come from?” The lonely planet hung on the screen, surrounded by only darkness. 

“Probably got ejected.” Planet X’s scathing tone broke the silence of the room, turning heads towards him. The dark ice giant threw a mocking grin at Jupiter, his eyes hard as rock-ice. The largest planet flinched minutely at the glare, eyes flickering away from the ice giant.

“That certainly seems like a likely theory!” Makemake’s oblivious intrusion into the tension almost obliterated it entirely. “Oh, this is such an interesting discovery from the Earthlings! Actual proof of rogue planets! I’d only heard tales of them!”

“How does that little dwarf planet survive so long without being punched?” Dark snarked in Luna’s ear. 

Don’t be mean, Luna carefully replied, trying to suppress his amusement at his comment.

‘A long time ago, in a star system far, far away…’ appeared below an image of a rocky world orbiting a star. There was water on its surface and an atmosphere around it. “Dawn…ushered in not by one star, but two.” A second star rose beside the first.

“Was that a Star Wars reference?” Mimas’ unimpressed comment was drowned out by Saturn’s squeal of excitement.

“Oh, look at it! It’s beautiful!” The ringed planet grabbed Jupiter’s arm, turning the distracted planet towards the screen. “Two stars!”

“I must admit, it is an…interesting sight.” Jupiter muttered, gaze occasionally straying towards the ice giants with a nauseous expression. Planet X had not turned his icy stare away from the largest planet.

“Perhaps the rogue world grew up in a close binary system, subject to the gravitational pull of two stars.” The two stars, one much larger than the other, could now be seen beyond the planet. “Its orbit may have been unstable, as its parent stars fought to control its destiny.”

“A star argument?” Mercury looked put off by the very idea. “I can’t imagine being a planet caught between two massive celestials with the ability to scorch you to a crisp.”

“I’m surprised it wasn’t ripped apart.” Mars muttered in agreement. 

“Some planets probably were.” Venus’ ominous addition to the conversation did not improve the nervousness twisting amidst the rocky planets. Luna found his gaze caught on the shake of the poor planet, rubble falling from the rocky cliffs as the two stars exerted their gravity across it., and tried not to imagine what it would feel like.

“Even in single star systems, the weak gravitational interactions between the planets can change their orbits.” Brian explained to the camera, sitting on a green hilltop. “Now, in a double star system, the planets are not only subjected to the gravitational pulls of each other, they’re subjected to the stronger gravitational pull of another star.”

The forms of Mars and Venus shrank back subtly at the uncomfortable reminder. At his side, his planet tensed, eyes turning gingerly to the two celestials. Luna found himself holding his breath, waiting to see if anyone would speak.

“Chaos,” The Sun muttered under his breath, shaking his head from one side to the other. “Utter chaos.”

“So, even if a planet gets into a stable orbit, it’s very likely that it won’t stay in that orbit for long. So, in double star systems, the line between order and chaos is very thin indeed.” Brian brought up his hands to enthuse the point.

“Not the kind of environment for a living planet, then.” Neptune summarized, squinting at the screen as Brian spoke. 

“Yeah, mate, definitely not. They’ll be tossed around like asteroids in a blender.” Uranus joined him, letting out a nervous joke to try and break the tension. 

“What’s a blender?”

“Even subtle changes in a planet’s orbit can lead to dramatic changes in climate. And that’s why the surface conditions on planets in double star systems may be unlikely to remain stable enough for long enough for intelligent Life to evolve.” The exo-planet was back on screen, still orbiting the two stars alongside other planets. 

“Wait, but it said double star systems are 50% of all Sun-like stars?” Mercury questioned, surprise crossing his features. “So, if no living world can form complex Life in that situation, then their chance of finding another civilization is cut in half!”

“Yes, I’m afraid so, Mercury.” Jupiter rumbled, continuing in a reverent tone. “Life is a delicate thing in this Universe, I fear. We are truly blessed to have been able to nurture it for so long.”

Luna couldn’t help but steal a glance at his planet. In the past, he’d have expected such a statement to ignite boastful pride in his planet, that he alone was able to sustain Life long enough for something as wonderful and complex as the humans to evolve. But now, as he studied Earth’s face, he saw only a defeated worry reflecting the images on screen, as yet another Earth-like world was taken off the playing table. 

“And the changes in the orbits of planets can sometimes be anything but subtle.” A smaller, but still planet-sized rocky world was rapidly approaching the planet. From the surface, the approaching planet hung huge in the sky, darkening the surface.

As the approaching planet darkened the screen, Luna found himself shrinking back in alarm alongside most of the room, warily watching the two planets come dangerously close. Only a few years ago, Earth had shown him all the media and stories his Earthlings had created about Luna himself falling onto the Earth. While his planet had found them mildly amusing at best, Luna hadn't been able to rid the images from his dreams. And, after finding out the truth of his own formation, the dreams had taken new forms, fed by snippets of reality. Did they have to show it so viscerally? I’ll never get any sleep now!

“Probably for the best, considering what almost happened last time.” Dark’s unhelpful comment rang in his mind.

Shh, I don’t want to think about it!

“A close encounter may have given the rogue world a final gravitational kick.” The volume of the music increased as the two planets glanced past each other. “Flinging it outwards. And releasing it from the grip of its parent stars.”

“That can happen?” Proteus exclaimed in shock, watching as the small planet was tossed far from its stars. The twin stars and the other planets became ever smaller, swallowed by the encroaching darkness. 

“Yes, it can happen.” Planet X’s deep voice answered the moon, who turned to the planet with curious eyes. “In fact, it’s surprisingly common , and planets that do it aren't even punished.”

Luna frowned at the wording, confused by the vitriol behind it. As he tracked Planet X’s gaze, he found it aimed squarely at Jupiter and Saturn. The two gas giants were frozen, their faces carefully blank and hands tense against the bean bags below them. Luna shot a bemused look to the Galilean moons, hoping for some clue or similar confusion, but instead he found a quartet of strained expressions, each watching their planet for any reaction. Ganymede in particular seemed uniquely focused.

“Setting it loose, on a journey through the galaxy.” The planet’s water was gone now, freezing to ice. “Far from the warmth of its stars, any liquid water the rogue world might once have had would have frozen solid. Any atmosphere that once protected it would have frozen out on to the surface. The rogue would have become a world with conditions that no living thing could endure.” The now-frozen world floated in the empty space. 

A strangely fearful sensation wrapped itself around Luna’s core as he watched this water world freeze into an uninhabitable ball. It brought back memories of Earth’s first few ice ages, the ones that drained CO2 from his atmospheric coat and plunged his surface into reflective white. But, even then, the Sun had shone on his surface, and the slow process of volcanism had brought hope of a new age of warmth. This planet would never have that, it was lost to the endless void, doomed to forever wander without a home system. 

“That sounds so cold!” Deimos shivered beside his planet, pushing up against the red world as the images on screen passed by. 

Luna pressed against his own planet, feeling oddly juvenile in his fear of something so unlikely to happen in their well-managed system. But what if Earth does try to find other living worlds? He’ll end up just like them, frozen solid and impossible to find. I couldn’t even drag him away from the Sun, how am I supposed to drag him all the way back to the Solar System!

“Stop catastrophizing.” Dark muttered, “I know I was joking about it a lot, but I really think your planet has more sense than that.”

Does he? You were right, earlier, he has already done stuff like this before. Luna worried, picking at the bean bag below him as his thoughts raced each other around his core. 

“Hey! I thought doubting Earth was my job, not yours.” Dark teased, trying to lighten the dark mood settling over their minds. “ This is why you need to talk with him. Honestly.”

What if he does want to look, though? What am I supposed to do?

“Well, at that point, you can probably grab Mercury, or Jupiter, or even the Sun. They’ll be able to help, I’m sure!”

O-OK, I’ll think about it.

Dark’s only reply was a disbelieving huff. Luna understood his frustration, he’d been ‘thinking about it’ for almost an Earthling year now. But the moon didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t promise a time or place when he’d start this conversion with the Earth. Knowing his luck, it’ll come out at the least opportune time.

“An entire planet alone and adrift.” The screen shifted to show the two stars, fading into smaller specks of light as the planet travelled away. “Only to be detected by us millions of years later. A small Earth-like rogue planet, roaming the darkness of space for eternity.”

“Truly a terrible fate.” Planet X’s words almost resembled a sneer, but as Luna turned to look at the dark ice giant, his gaze was carefully neutral. The Sun, however, frowned at the planet.

“This is unnecessary, Planet X.” The Sun’s words were hard, but cracks in the tone gave a glimpse at the hesitancy behind the star’s response. Planet X certainly seemed to hear it, giving the Sun a wide smirk in reply.

“Of course. Forgive me, my star.” 

What is going on? Luna frowned to himself.

“This lonely wandering planet is not a unique world. Although rogue planets are very difficult to detect, it’s estimated that there may be over 100 billion of them in our galaxy.” Brian was back, sitting in the light of a sunset. “Rogue planets might be the most common type of planet in the Milky Way.”

This stark statement ground the room to a halt, each planet, moon, and star equally disturbed and sorrowful that such a fate awaited so many celestials. After seeing a real rogue planet and finally understanding something of their origins, Luna was finding it hard to picture them as the monsters within the void any longer. This one was small, Mars-sized and possibly could have held Life if given a chance. But, it wasn't. It was thrown from its stars and abandoned to a fate of cold and dark.

Maybe they are mad, senseless and violent; but could Luna really blame them? Even within their own system, planets that felt only a small percentage of sunlight struggled to hold onto themselves. Being cast completely away from any star, any light at all…well, Luna could see why they would go mad. They would find no rest from this endless voyage into the dark, either. No collision would put them out of their misery, no star would engulf them or tear them apart. Maybe, if they were lucky, they’d be eaten by the greater monsters, hiding in the darkest edges of the Universe.

“And although we think most of them were torn away from their star soon after formation, this does suggest that star systems are not always stable places where complex Life could evolve over billions of years.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess it does suggest that…” Earth sounded vaguely dazed, his voice trailing off with a thoughtful look. Luna tensed, on high, high alert for any concerning signs from his planet.

The Earth’s statement had broken the silence in the room, and now the rest were sharing glances to confirm they weren’t the only ones deeply disturbed by this recent section. Even absentminded Neptune was carefully comforting his moons, casting worried looks at his fellow ice giants. The only planet who appeared unaffected was Planet X, who’s steely gaze remained locked to Jupiter’s back. 

“Our hunt for another living planet has only just begun.” The screen changed to a shot above Earth, as a space telescope floated by. “Yet we’ve already learned so much.”

“I can’t wait to see what they find in the future!” Makemake grinned, turning to his fellow dwarf planets. “It’s given me so many new ideas for our Dungeons and Dwarf planets games!”

“Can’t wait.” Eris’ reply was monotone, but the soft smile on her face betrayed her excitement.

“Oh, please don’t put in a bunch of rogue planets! They’re so…creepy!” Haumea implored, casting a worried glance at the screen despite the absence of such a planet.

“We found our first rocky worlds.” A star with a rocky planet in orbit was shown. “Some in the habitable zone around their stars. “Some, potentially, with liquid water on the surface. Candidate worlds for future missions to search for evidence of Life.”

“Even if they haven’t found any evidence yet, there must be a few living worlds in our area.” Earth sounded determined, a thoughtful tilt to his gaze as he watched the screen. “I find it hard to believe there would be none.”

“Well, even if there were a few, we’d never really be able to meet them, right?” Luna cautiously tried, feeling his panic roiling in his core. Earth took a moment to even respond to his words, and when he did, Luna could tell his planet’s mind was miles away.

“What did you say, Luna?” Earth asked, a confused glance sent his way before the living planet was lost in thought once again. Luna sighed internally, picking at the bean bag beneath him in some attempt to diffuse his rising agitation. 

“But we’ve also found hordes of bizarre, tortured worlds orbiting around violent stars.” A few clips from the episode played again of the pulsar star. 

“I guess that shows we’re in a pretty calm system, all things considered.” Callisto muttered to her fellow moons. Io nodded enthusiastically at her side, while Ganymede seemed unconvinced.

“Well, if this is what a ‘calm’ system looks like, I’m not surprised the Earthlings can’t find any other Life.” Europa snarked. “This place is bordering on chaos half the time.”

“I think most of that was you two, actually.” Callisto countered with a loaded look at Europa and Ganymede.

“And a multitude of rogue planets where complex Life as we understand it seems impossible.” The rogue world appeared again, frozen and silent. 

“If we could communicate with those systems…maybe we could help them? Maybe the Sun can show the other stars how to keep a stable system?” Earth’s pondering words did nothing to calm the moon down, and he found himself scrambling for something to say to distract his planet.

“What you need to do is calm down.” Dark barked, catching Luna’s attention in an instant. “If you panic yourself, you’ll say something without thinking.”

I thought you wanted me to be more open with Earth? Luna shot back, not in the mood for Dark’s passive-aggressive advice. Speaking my mind would be doing just that!

“There’s a difference between speaking your mind and speaking without a filter.”

Luna rolled his eyes at Dark’s response, I need to stop my planet from doing something dangerous! I don’t have time to filter things!

“Did he say he was going to do anything? I didn’t hear that.” The leading tone of Dark’s words infuriated Luna. 

I know our planet better than you! You don’t even talk to him!

“You don’t let me!” Dark finally hissed his frustration at Luna. “I’m never in control, not unless you want something done!”

Dark? I-I-.

“Save it. I’m just saying, if you can’t do this, at least try letting me have a go, for once.”  

“Perhaps it’s these worlds that hint at the reason why, for now, one planet stands apart.” The camera was back in the Solar System, panning to show the Earth. “Alone.”

The calm, almost sombre music that accompanied the sight of Earth’s form hanging solitary on the screen brought an uncomfortable sadness to the statement. At his side, the planet himself appeared to sink under it, an almost glassy look to his eyes as he gazed ahead.

Luna nudged his planet gently, just enough to get his attention, if not his full focus. As the distant eyes flickered to the moon, Luna knew his best bet would be to distract his planet with something else. A deeper, more selfish part of his core wanted to act now so that Dark would not have time to gain the energy for a forceful control. He wanted to fix this, not sit back while Dark tried his heavy hand at it. Into his mind, he spoke, well, this is as good a time as any.

“What? No it isn't-”  

“Hey, you’re definitely not alone. You’ve always got me.” Luna implored, pressing himself against the planet in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “You have all the rocky planets! You guys play those card games so often, I think they’re barely ever in their own orbits at this point.”

“I-I guess…” Earth sounded unsure as he tried to blink away whatever was crowding his mind. Worried that he needed more of a push, perhaps, Luna ploughed forward with the question he’d been meaning to bring up for months now.

“And hey, speaking of card games…” Luna forcibly ignored the shouting match Dark was trying to have with the inside of his core as he spoke, rushing the words out to get this over with. “I was thinking, maybe I can join the next one? Just to try it? It gets a bit boring always watching you four.”

Luna clamped his mouth shut to avoid further rambling, trying to muster the courage to look his planet in the eyes and see his reaction. Probably shouldn’t have added that bit about being bored, now he might feel like he has to…

“No, that bit was fine. It was the timing-”

Please be quiet, I did what you asked! I’m talking to him!

“...Um.” The request had clearly caught the Earth off guard, the living planet struggling to focus on the words, let alone answer. “I-I’m sorry, what did you say? I was thinking about something else.”

“...” Luna’s core dropped. He didn’t even listen to me! What was the point then?

“Luna?”

“Nevermind, forget it.” Luna ground out, turning away from his planet to try and calm down. His pre-existing panic melded with this new anger, frustration broiling over and twisting his core into a hot mess of energy. No longer touching the Earth, he couldn’t discern what his planet was doing. But the lack of follow up questions told him all he needed to know.

“Our planet seems to have largely escaped the violence, the chaos and the constant change that seems to characterise a galaxy like the Milky Way.” The camera fell towards the Earth, showing the glowing lights of a city before shifting to float above the human settlement. “Yes, there’s been the odd mass extinction, but there’s been an unbroken chain of Life here on Earth stretching back four billion years.”

“Odd mass extinction?” Saturn questioned. “I thought it was just the one, with the asteroid?”

“No, I’m afraid there were a few others, but I cannot recall the exact number.” Jupiter corrected to his friend, casting a glance at the Earth, likely hoping for his input. The Earth remained quiet, and Luna, tense at his side, heard another approaching them.

“Hey, Earth.” Mars’ awkward opener lifted a portion of the pressure from Luna’s mind. Good, he can set Earth straight about this. 

“Oh, Mars!” Earth’s voice sounded fine on the surface, but Luna could hear the strain he was putting in to keep his words light. “Why’d you come over here? Phobos and Deimos get too loud?”

“Nah, you know I can handle anything those two can throw at me.” Mars dismissed, then addressed the Earth in a more serious tone, his gaze questioning. “I couldn’t help but overhear you two. Is everything OK?”

“I think so-”

“Earth’s being stupid.” Luna snapped, turning his head back around to look at his planet. The Earth frowned at him, confusion mixed with insult reflexed in his eyes, and the living planet shot back.

“What? You mumbled something about card games at me and then got mad when I didn’t hear you!” Earth exclaimed in confusion, looking between his moon and Mars. The red planet himself was frowning thoughtfully. 

“I mean, it didn’t sound like ‘mumbling’ to me. I heard Luna just fine.” Mars countered in a careful tone, watching his friend warily. “I think you just weren’t listening, Earth.”

“I was distracted . You know, by the documentary we’re being forced to watch.” Earth deflected, his frustration growing more obvious to the moon. But Luna was far too worked up to let this go. And with Mars here, maybe he can help me stop the Earth’s silly plan!

“You were distracted by your stupid idea of visiting other living worlds!” Luna snapped, forgetting, in the heat of the moment, that he promised not to bring this up again. “Why do you always want to do such reckless things? They won’t have any answers for you!”

“My idea to WHAT?” The Earth’s dumbfounded expression almost made Luna falter, but he kept going, determined to get this out.

“To run off after some hypothetical answer to why you want Life! All that talk about visiting them or talking to them, or that silly time-machine you tried!”

“You’re still obsessing over that question?” Mars’ query might have sounded dismissive at any other time, but his tone was soaked in a deep worry, his brows furrowing as he studied the living planet. “Why can’t you let it go?”

“I-I can’t! And why should I? It’s my past. You kept most of it from me already, I just want to know the full story!” Earth snapped, turning his head to look both of his friends in the eyes. “I know you or Venus know more than you’re letting on, I’m not stupid!”

“I didn’t say you were stupid, Earth.” Mars’ voice was forcing itself to remain measured, and Luna felt almost jealous of his ability to keep it so steady. “I’m just worried you’re going to do something you’ll regret, again.” 

“What?” Earth was caught off guard by Mars’ statement, frowning in confusion. Luna felt a similar thrill of surprise run through him, like something had shifted under his seat. Mars doesn’t know about the ‘event’, I’m sure of it! Mercury swore not to tell!

Mars seemed to realise he’d said something odd, taking in the frowns of confusion with a meek expression. He shook his head and turned his gaze away from the two celestials. “Forget it. I misspoke.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Earth hissed, his confusion morphing into defensive anger at this new deflection. “You can’t just say that and walk off. This is the whole problem, you never tell me the whole truth, in full.”

“I said, forget it, Earth.” Mars snapped now, turning around one last time to impart his words on the living planet before storming back to his seat. Luna was left sitting beside a pissed off planet who wouldn’t look at him, and the rest of the room who had just seen everything. The moon wished he was back in his orbit, a safe distance from both the Earth and all the Solar System. I-I think I messed that up…I’m sorry, Dark.

“And if that’s what you need to go from the origins of Life to a civilization, then although there may be billions of worlds out there where Life began, there may be very few civilisations.” Brian was standing in the city, lit by the buildings despite the night sky. 

“Well, that would be a pity!” Neptune, who seemed to have entirely ignored the tension in the room, or was deliberately breaking it, exclaimed. “Those Earthlings are so funny-looking! I would love to see what other planets can make!”

“Mate, even if there is other Life out there, we ain’t seeing any of it.” Uranus rolled his eyes at the blue ice giant. 

“But, that’s just an opinion.” Brian admitted, “It’s an educated guess. And given the profound nature of the question, no matter how educated the guess, I think it would be ridiculous for us to stop looking, both inside our galaxy and beyond.”

“Ugh, these Earthlings really don’t give up, do they?” Enceladus bemoaned dramatically, throwing his arms up in defeat. “They could find every Earth-like world in our galaxy, dead as an asteroid, and still argue they haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.” Dione countered, turning Enceladus’ expression to one of confusion. “We barely knew anything of other planets before the Earthlings went looking. If they want to keep finding out more, I’m not going to argue about it.”

“For we may have just received the first glimpse of a world beyond the Milky Way.” The camera fell onto a new, unfamiliar galaxy. “Around 30 million light years away, nestled in the spiral arms of the Whirlpool Galaxy. A world the size of Saturn.”

“Whirlpool Galaxy?” The Sun’s voice was tinged with awe at the sight of a completely different galaxy, spiralling out in a similar pattern to their own. 

“They can see planets in other galaxies?” The excitement in Pluto’s voice almost drew Luna out of his frozen state of tension. He didn’t know what to do next. His planet’s reaction had confused him, but Mars’ words had confused him further. Dark? Are you there? I don’t know what to do, do you have any ideas?

“Even if I did, you probably wouldn’t listen to them.” Dark grumbled, a cold but light air to his voice that gave Luna a brief hope that his other half wasn’t completely ticked off. “Personally, I think you and Earth need to get on the same page, calmly. No more throwing accusations at or ignoring each other.”

Easy to say, harder to do, Luna pondered, risking a glance at his planet. The blue-green world was fuming, glaring at Mars with a suspicious, frustrated fire. 

“A find that marks an expansion of our horizons. The beginning of the hunt for extragalactic planets.” 

“Oo! I hope they find a massive galaxy, full of massive planets!” Ariel exclaimed in excitement, leaning to the edge of their bean bag to squint at the screen. “Wouldn’t that be cool, Umbriel?”

Umbriel offered only a neutral grunt to the moon, but she grinned in response anyway.

“He knows something.” Earth muttered, catching Luna’s ear as he gazed over at Mars. “I’m tired of being lied to. Aren't you, Luna?”

“I-I don’t know why he said that, Earth, but I’m sure he had his reasons for not telling us.” Luna carefully tried, wary of reigniting the argument between them that Earth appeared willing to leave lying where it fell. “They had their reasons before. Maybe we just don’t have the full picture?”

“If we don’t, that is entirely their fault.” Earth ground out, his gaze never wavering from Mars’ form. “I-I just don’t understand why he said that. He doesn't know about…that. Unless Mercury told him…but I don’t think Mercury would have…”

As his planet contemplated this, Luna turned his own gaze towards the smallest planet in question, only to jump slightly as his eyes squarely met Mercury’s. The little planet was frowning in their direction. At his side, Venus was tense and firmly refusing to look in the direction of the other rocky planets. I guess they heard all that…

“The potential discovery of a planet orbiting around a star in another galaxy is something that I never thought I’d see.” Brian said with excitement as he walked through the city.

“And it opens up the intriguing possibility that we might be able to explore not only the question, ‘Are we alone in our galaxy?’ but ‘Are we alone in the Universe?’” 

“Damn, Earth, those ‘city’ things really glow at night!” Uranus looked honestly intrigued by the lights littering the city as Brian overlooked it. “I thought those Earthlings slept at night? Why is it so bright?”

“They aren’t all able to sleep at night, and a lot of jobs still need doing, even in the dark.” Earth’s voice was so believably unbothered, Luna himself almost forgot his planet was actually very angry at the minute. “So they have lights. But, honestly, I think they just like how it looks sometimes.”

“Ah, makes sense, I suppose.” Uranus was scribbling something down in his notepad.

“The answer to that question may lie far in the future.” Brian was looking out at the glowing city lights. “We might never answer that question, but I said the question ‘Are we alone?’ is profound because answering it would teach us much more about what it means to be human.”

“Somehow, they managed to turn it right back around to being about themselves, again.” Venus snarked, but his voice didn’t have the bite Luna had come to associate with the cloudy planet. 

Earth must have heard it too, as the living planet did not rise to Venus’ weak bait. Instead, he set his sights on Mars, crossing to the red planet’s side faster than Luna could follow. Scrambling to catch up, Luna hung back as his planet began to speak.

“Mars.” The living planet began, catching the red planet’s gaze and holding it firmly. “I’m not going to be able to forget that. You know that. Please, just stop hiding stuff from me, for once!”

“...” Mars stood in silence, his face carefully fixed and body tense. Behind him, his moons watched on with wary expressions. 

“So you’re just going to ignore me? Real mature, Mars.” Earth muttered, the anger in his voice quickly replacing any focus he’d once had. “Fine! If I can’t get answers out of you, or Venus, or Mercury, I’m going elsewhere.”

His planet swiftly stood and, without looking back, marched across the room to the far end of the front row, right beside Saturn and his moon collection. The speed left Luna scrambling to follow, only to find his way bared by Mars’ arm.

“Well, I think we become a little bit more human with every world that we explore because that ability to lay the foundations, to explore questions to which we may never receive answers in our lifetime, questions for our children or our grandchildren to answer is a fundamental part of what it means to be human.”

“Let go of me.” Luna hissed, entirely out of patience with every celestial in the room, and tried to push the red planet away. Mars shook his head, unmoved by his attempts to get past.

“Leave him alone for a bit. He needs to calm down.” Mars’ advice usually sounded reasonable to Luna, but right now, that idea was the last thing he was about to do. 

“I’m not leaving my planet alone! Not again!” Luna pushed harder, frustration bubbling over into his words. “Let. Me. Go!”

“Again?” Mars’ question made Luna pause. So…he doesn’t know about the ‘event’? But, then…

It didn’t make sense. Why did Mars think something was going to happen? If he didn’t know about that day, what reason did he have to fear Earth’s actions? Was Earth right? Was there another lie, another secret waiting to be sprung at them? Luna didn’t know what to think of the red planet holding him but he knew he needed to get away and back to his planet.

“I don’t know why you always act like you know everything, because you don’t!” Luna snapped, frustrated at the audacity of Mars, speaking when he didn’t even know the full story, and still hiding things! “You have no idea, so just let me go to my planet. Who you are still lying to apparently!”

“L-luna, I’m just trying to keep him safe.” Mars implored, shifting his arms to more gently restrain the moon. “His obsession with that question…it’s going to hurt him. It’s already happened before.”

“What?” Luna’s confusion was mirrored by Dark’s, who was apparently watching closely. “What are you talking about?”

“I-I shouldn’t say-” Mars cut himself off, shaking his head, before continuing in a sterner voice. “But, the bottom line is he won’t find any answers with the gas giants, or the exo-planets.”

“I know that already!” Luna complained, wiggling violently to try and break free. His breath was coming in pants as his worked up mind pushed him to keep exerting himself to get to his planet. “If you’re not going to help, let go!”

“I’m sorry, Luna.” Mars sat back down, still holding the moon. Luna growled, trying one last scramble to break the planet’s hold before going still. I hate being picked up!

“It’s a fundamental part of what makes us so special here on this little world, looking up at the stars, whether we’re alone or not.” The camera zoomed out slowly from Brian, showing one last shot of the city before cutting to black.

“Well…that was a nice speech at the end. At least, as far as I could hear.” The Sun turned a burning eye on the remaining rocky planets. “Why, exactly, are you all FIGHTING SO DAMN LOUD?”

“Sorry, Sun.” The planets intoned, lowering their heads in a practiced manner. As Mars moved him awkwardly to bow, Dark’s voice hissed into Luna’s mind. 

“Bite him.” For once, Luna didn’t question it, far too desperate to get free for a lengthy moral argument with his other half. As his teeth met Mars’ surface, the planet abruptly dropped him.

“What the Stars! Luna!” The moon didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Mars’ reaction, just bolted. Unfortunately, he bolted right into Mercury.

“Oof!” Both the planet and moon tumbled to the ground. As Luna was picking himself up, he heard Mercury's nervous voice. “Hey, what’s the big rush?”

“I have to get to Earth, he’s by himself!” Luna turned to the planet, expecting to see the same worry and fear he felt reflected in the only other planet who knew. Instead, he found a confused frown.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be alright. It’s not like he can pull another stunt in this box anyway.” Mercury’s words sent rivets of cold shock down Luna’s surface. What?

“He did not just call it a ‘stunt’.”

Luna’s hearing buzzed uncomfortably loud as his frustration churred and spat at his insides. His face must be twisted into some furious expression, Mercury backing away quickly enough to confirm that, but Luna couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything, not really. Every rage and fear contained in his core was shielded by a layer of shock he was struggling to see past. One thought, however, rang clear as water ice. Get to Earth.

Bursting past the bemused Mercury and frowning Venus, Luna dashed across the front of the room. The other moons appeared to be making their way towards the old meeting area, but Luna was not following them this time. Ignoring the calls from his friends, he squeezed past the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, until he stood panting before his planet.

“Earth?” Slightly out of breath, Luna slowly approached his planet. The blue-green world sat still, curled tightly into as small a shape as he could make, head down and eyes unseeing. The words of his moon ignited no reaction from him. Luna dared to step closer, repeating. “Earth?”

A flicker of confusion passed across those heterochronic eyes, and Luna was gratified to see his planet carefully lift his head to meet his gaze. “Luna? What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” Luna asked. Was it not obvious that Luna would follow his planet wherever he went? Even if they’d been fighting, he’d sooner kiss Ganymede than abandon his planet. “I got held up by Mars and Mercury, but I wanted to follow immediately.”

“Why didn’t you stay with them? I-I think Mars is right, this question is driving me insane. And I know you’re sick of hearing about it. You can go back, and maybe you can use my deck for a card game, like you wanted?” The Earth’s words weren’t making sense. Luna pushed closer, until he was leaning his weight against the living planet, trying to think through what to say.

“I don’t care about that card game if you’re not there.” Luna began, focusing on the planet’s eyes, trying to get his words across clearly. “And I wouldn’t leave you to deal with this alone, not in a billion years.”

Earth’s expression softened, but the painful uncertainty remained. “B-but, it was important to you! And I wasn’t listening. I was too wrapped up in my silly questions! Mars is right, I should be able to let this go.”

“I’ll admit, I was upset that you didn’t listen.” Luna spoke, continuing quickly before Earth’s expression could break further. “But, I was more upset by the idea of you putting yourself in danger, just for an answer. I can’t watch you run off again.”

“I-I wasn’t going to do that. I know I spoke about the idea of it, but I-I wouldn’t-” The Earth cut himself off with a deep breath. “I-I hope I would not have done something stupid. But, I feel like this question is driving me mad, and I have no idea what I would do.”

The admission brought both relief and pain. Relief that they were finally talking, openly and honestly, just as Dark wanted. Pain in the knowledge that his planet was suffering and he could think of no way to help. Whatever was driving this question through Earth’s mind was clearly powerful. Strong enough for the living planet to doubt his own sanity. I need to help my planet. And I can’t rely on Mercury again.

Luna needed to find answers. But who would have them? Mars might, but he was clearly reluctant to reveal them. Mercury had dismissed it. Venus…Venus had watched everything and said not a word; so he either knew more than both or nothing at all. Jupiter and Saturn would be obvious next targets, but Luna wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Looking at his planet’s face, he was struck by how exhausted he seemed, eyes drooping and form slumped. Talking to the gas giants can wait, for a bit.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” Luna reached out to his planet, and slowly but surely, Earth reached out in return. As Luna was enveloped in the hug, he focused on tightening his own grip, trying to impart his conviction into the pressure. “Together.”

Chapter Text

Well, that sounded like a mess. Planet X frowned to himself as his hearing picked up the last of the rocky planet argument. After the one with Life, Earth, had left with his moon, the rest had dissolved into bickering. Does this system really do nothing else?

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had such a good view of so much of the system’s drama before.” At his side, Uranus spoke up, letting his eyes trail after the rocky worlds as they shuffled away from each other. “This is great!”

“Hm.” Planet X surveyed the rest of the room, letting his eyes linger on no one for longer than a few seconds. His previous spying into the system had been entertaining, yes, but it was nothing like actually being within the Solar System, watching every piece of the puzzle move in exquisite detail. 

His new plan was taking shape, slowly but surely, in his mind. While the cause of that argument wasn’t any concern of his, the fallout may be instrumental in his goals. I need to find the weak link. Another planet who will stand with me for the right price.

“Hey, mate! What’re ya looking at?” Uranus’ tinny voice buzzed in Planet X’s ear. As much as he was vital to his plan, Uranus was also becoming a hindrance. The planet was understandably desperate for a friend, and that suited X just fine; but his insistence of talking when it wasn’t needed was quickly becoming annoying. He was worried the other planets and moons of the system were beginning to brush him off into the category of ‘Weird Ice Giant’ that every one of his kin had ended up in.

“Nothing, Uranus, nothing at all.” Planet X smiled, making sure to emphasize his pronunciation of the name. It had confused him that, upon being returned to the system, every celestial had been making some effort to say the name correctly. All his previous observations had indicated a distinct lack of any such care. Then again, my observations never suggested that Jupiter would ever seek me out himself.

“Well, I think the next episode is about to start!” Uranus smiled back, an excited energy to his body language. Planet X turned back to the screen and saw that the pale ice giant was right. The screen had lightened and slowly begun to show new images.

The episode opened with some Earthling radio chatter as the image of a space telescope floating above Earth passed by. The chatter began to mix with the music (Neptune by Foals) as images of supernovae, exo-planets, and even a black hole sped across the screen. It all culminated in the title screen, ‘Universe’ fading onto the dark background.

Planet X had to admit a level of interest in the Earthlings after this documentary had brought some of their accomplishments to his attention. At first, when he’d heard of a living world actually being created in the Solar System, he had dismissed it as a fleeting fantasy. He’d known of the Sun’s goals from the beginning, but it had been hard to honestly believe it had succeeded, given the wreck Jupiter had made of the first rocky planets. But, against the odds, that living world had managed to keep the creatures alive long enough to produce a being that was clearly sentient and sapient, able to create art and discover secrets using tools like maths. And now, seeing so much of them laid out in this show was honestly raising his fascination, encouraging him to learn more.

“Oh, I guess we’re just jumping right in with the intro this time?” Pluto hummed as the introduction slowly faded away.

“Maybe it’ll change every time?” Haumea suggested. 

“Or maybe the last one was just trying to make a point?” Charon also offered, throwing a glance at her planet. “It was about a ‘Second Earth’ after all. And we’ve seen how obsessive they are about him.”

“I suppose.”

The Earthling from before (Brian, X thought he recalled hearing) was in a strange vessel from earlier, one that seemingly floated atop the water and even propelled through it. Smaller, winged Earthlings could be seen just before Brian slowly got off the vessel onto dry land. “If I were to ask you, where do you come from, what would you say? What story would you tell?”

“Interesting opening line.” Jupiter mused, watching the screen carefully. At his side, Saturn frowned in thought.

“I wonder what the topic of this one is?” Saturn asked, but the room seemed to have as little an idea as the ringed giant. 

“You might say, well, I come from my hometown.” Brian was now walking up to a structure. “Or my city or my country.”

“I mean, I’d probably say I came from the Solar System.” Mercury answered the screen with a confused tone. “What else would I say?”

“Typical planet, so narrow-minded.” Europa’s snarky voice piqued Planet X’s interest. “What about moons? We’d probably say our planet, if we were even asked.”

“I believe that is the point the Earthling is getting at.” Planet X interjected, turning a focused look on the angry moon. “A moon may say its planet, and a planet may say its star’s system, but what would a star say?”

As fun as it was to watch the Sun tense under his gaze, X forced himself to smooth his expression. It would be no use to him if the largest celestial in the system got wise to the depths of his animosity. The star may think all is forgiven, and X wanted to keep it that way for now.

“If you’ve got a partially wide perspective, you might say, ‘I come from planet Earth.’” The screen changed to darkness, and now the Earthling was standing in the dark. “But what is the largest structure that we could legitimately call home?”

“A galaxy.” The Sun’s low voice eventually spoke, turning his eyes away from X pointedly. 

“Ah, that makes sense.” Venus’ gravelly voice muttered. “I thought it was going to be something we’d never heard of that these Earthlings just happen to know about for some reason.” 

“Well, I would argue it’s that.” The Earthling pointed to the sky, where a wide, dense band of stars lay. “That faint arc of light that stretches across the sky from horizon to horizon. It’s an outer spiral arm of our galaxy, the Milky Way. Our home island of 400 billion stars.”

“Oh! You were right, Sun!” Saturn passed a smile to the star as he spoke. Planet X once again found himself studying the ringed planet carefully. While Jupiter had ‘apologized’ and at least acted remorseful, Saturn had shown no inclination to even approach X since his return. All that dopy planet seemed to do was follow around after Jupiter and nervously bend over himself to please his horde of moons. He was…different from how X remembered him. And not just because of the rings.

“It’s nice that the Earthlings can see it from your surface. It’s definitely one of the best views in our system.” One moon, Rhea, spoke softly from the side of the room.

Planet X turned to see that a few of Saturn's moons had settled next to the Earth and his moon, who had taken a spot far from the other rocky planets. One of them, a green-orange one, was quietly talking to the living planet’s moon. Beside the planet, a few of the large moons were offering curious smiles and small questions.

“The Milky Way takes its name from the dense band of stars that sweeps across the sky on the clearest of nights.” The sky above the Earth’s surface was awash with stars, condensed into a distinct streak. 

“OK? How does that relate to the name? What does ‘Milky’ even mean?” Ganymede’s question drew an uncomfortable expression from the Earth. In contrast to his usual excitement to explain his little Lifeforms, the living planet looked distinctly reluctant.

“Um…do you want me to explain what milk is? Or why they call it that?” 

Ganymede seemed to consider this for a minute, before firmly stating, “Both.”

“Ugh, OK, but remember, you asked.” Earth frowned, shuffling in his seat. “Milk is something a group of my Earthlings use to feed their kids when they’re too small for regular food. It’s usually white or off-white.”

This didn’t seem too bad to Planet X. He knew and understood very little of the Earthlings, but such an ability did sound mildly useful.

“They called it the Milky Way because it looked like someone had spread milk over the sky.” Earth continued with a sideways glance at Jupiter. “The Greeks even made a myth about it. Hera, Zeus’ wife, ripped baby Heracles from her breast and it created the Milky Way.”

“Jupiter has a wife?” Uranus asked, perplexed. Planet X resisted the urge to sigh.

“What’s a wife?” Neptune’s follow up destroyed his restraint. I’m surrounded by idiots.

“From our vantage point here on Earth, we see the galaxy from within. But if we could travel outside the galaxy,” The camera pulled out, stars flying past rapidly. “We would see the entire structure. The Milky Way revealed as a island of light surrounded by darkness.” The full shape of the galaxy filled the screen, spiraling.

“It looks like a Solar System. A huge one!” Ariel, one of Uranus’ major moons, exclaimed in surprise as the massive structure took form.

“If it’s a system, what’s at the centre?” Oberon’s question was not aimed at any one individual, but only the Sun seemed to react to the words. As the room turned a curious eye to the star, his face tightened and froze.

“Nothing.” The star’s sole word in reply confused Planet X. Surely there was something. Something with mass that had the capacity to pull so many stars around it. He’s either reluctant to tell us…or he doesn’t know.

“Hundreds of billions of stars in a single disc that’s existed since the Universe was young.” The Earthling explained over an image of the whole galaxy. “Only now are we able to explore its history.”

“The Earthlings have moved on from stars and exo-planets, to GALAXIES?” Phobos gasped, gazing at the huge span of stars displayed on the screen, lighting the room softly.

“I didn’t know the galaxy was that old?” Mars queried, glancing over at Jupiter and Sol. 

“I-I admit, I didn’t not know that either.” Jupiter hesitated as he spoke. Beside him, the Sun turned his gaze down and did not answer the red planet.

“How it was born. How, through a series of remarkable events, it grew to become the galaxy we inhabit today.” Scenes of galaxies approaching each other appeared on the screen. “And how, eventually, it will end.”

“There has got to be a limit to how much these Earthlings can find out about this stuff.” Uranus complained, “At this rate, we’ll get to see how the Universe itself was born.”

“I mean, they did mention the Big Bang. They definitely know about it.” Pluto corrected, adding in a careful tone. “It would be interesting to see if they know what came before?”

“I doubt they can ever know that, mate.”

“We’ve discovered our own paths in this story, too, living as we do inside the Milky Way, just over halfway along one of its magnificent arms, around a small but familiar star.” The camera fell towards the arm of the galaxy, before zooming into one specific star. 

“Look guys, it’s us!” Proteus pointed at the screen as it showed the arm of the galaxy. No specific star stood out as their own, but the camera still switched to reveal the Sun. 

“Seeing it from above, it makes it look like we have so many other stars right next to us.” Mercury pondered, “But at our scale, we’re so far away we can’t even visit another star.”

“The Milky Way is an island, in a sense.” Brian the Earthling was standing in the dark, lit only by a faint light. “Every star you can see in the night sky is a part of our galaxy. Our nearest neighbour in large galaxies is over two million light-years away.”

Planet X had never thought of it like that. During his banishment, he’d glared at the other stars, angered by their distance and uncaring light. His own star had allowed him to be tossed away by his planets, and not a single other star would save him. He could have travelled his whole life and still never reached the shores of any new system. So, he’d stayed at the border, watching as the system that rejected him and the planets that had expelled him lived their lives in the light of the Sun, while all he felt was darkness. Pretty lousy galaxy.

“One big star family!” Deimos grinned from his planet’s side. The red planet wasn't watching his moon, however; his gaze was firmly fixed on the living world, far across the room from him and pointedly not returning the look.

“So it certainly feels as if we are isolated and alone, adrift in an ocean of dark.” The Earthling implored to the camera. “And that is true to a point. There is no conceivable technology that will ever allow us to leave our island physically, but science allows us to leave the Milky Way in our imaginations, to view our galaxy from impossible perspectives in both space and time, and to tell its story.”

“Why can’t they ever leave? I thought their technology was always improving?” Titan questioned, and Jupiter picked up the task of answering.

“I imagine it might have something to do with the distances.” Jupiter speculated. “Even if they made something that could travel at the speed of light, it would still take entirely too long.” 

Planet X wasn’t completely satisfied with that suggestion. Even if it was far, could the Earthling not just build something to travel the distance? They seemed determined enough, and certainly smart enough. Maybe there is another factor I do not know about?

‘Island of Light, The Milky Way’ appeared over the night sky. The screen quickly changed to another Earthling speaking and a rocket launch. The screen told X that this was the Gaia Space Observatory. 

“That one again?” Earth’s moon tilted his head at the sight of the probe. “Didn’t they talk about this one in the last episode?”

“Yeah, but that only mentioned how many binary star systems it found. I doubt they sent it up there just for that.” The Earth suggested, and Planet X was surprised to see that the living world was now completely surrounded by Saturn’s moons, leaning against the edge of the room in absence of a bean bag. 

“One mission more than any other has deepened our understanding of the galaxy.” The rocket rose blazing into the sky. “A spacecraft bearing the name of an ancient Greek goddess. Gaia. Ancestral mother of all Life on Earth.”

“I don’t understand why you guys go on about my name being a goddess’ when Earth is right there.” Venus muttered vaguely, waving a hand towards the living planet across the room. 

“Earth doesn’t really use that name, Venus.” Mars corrected. “He doesn’t even use the Roman versions, Tellus or Terra.”

“All those names to choose from, and you picked ‘Earth’?” Uranus asked disbelievingly, leaning forward slightly to see the living planet more clearly.

“Hey, I didn’t pick it! The Earthlings did…I think?” Earth frowned. At his side, the grey moon sighed.

“Not this debate again.”

“OK, all those names, and the Earthlings picked ‘Earth’? It’s the boringest one!” Uranus repeated. 

“Knowing the Earthlings, they probably had to pick the boringest one to stop a massive fight.” The Earth’s moon interjected, before ginning apologetically at his planet’s offended face. “Not that ‘Earth’ is a boring name!”

All this talk of names only furthered Planet X’s confusion around Uranus’ name. He’d know for as long as he’d been watching the pale giant that they disliked the name. Yet, he’d never tried to change it. Planet X was hardly one to talk, given his own half-finished name; but in his defence, he’d never received a proper one. He didn’t even know where the others had gotten theirs. Did the Sun give them? Was the Sun the only one who could change them? Maybe this is something I can use? I need planets on my side, ideally, when I confront the star. So anything I can offer them as leverage is useful. That rocky one, Venus, also sounded discontent with his name.

“Gaia’s mission? To map the locations of billions of stars in the Milky Way, nearly all of them for the first time.” The probe spread its strange fan out as it settled into orbit. “Gaia spins on its axis, its sensors scanning the galaxy in all directions.”

“That’s a big task for such a small little thing!” Saturn’s voice brought Planet X’s attention back to the screen. The ringed planet sat so comfortably, happily enjoying the view from the front row, while X and his kind were shoved in the back. He’s almost worse than Jupiter. At least Jupiter pretends to be sorry, running off to find me and drag me back. Saturn hasn’t even approached me once since I got here.

“Every star is mapped an average of 70 times, allowing Gaia to calculate the speed and direction of each one, pinpointing their locations with accuracies up to one-thousandth of 1%.” A warping star map passed by the screen. “Over 1.5 million stars every hour. Almost two billion in total so far. To create a map like nothing ever seen before.”

“Wow! How long will it take them to map the whole galaxy?” Tethys asked with excitement. 

“Um, I think it managed to get pretty much the whole thing before it shut down.” Earth replied hesitantly, unsure of his answer. Tethys’ face dropped.

“It shut down?”

“Yeah, pretty recently too. It had a good 12 years of activity though, well beyond what they planned for it!” Earth hurried to cheer up the moon, who took in the new information with a thoughtful expression. 

“So it got to retire?” Tethys’ voice was hopeful.

“Um, something like that, yeah.”

“The Gaia data is by far the most detailed star map ever produced, a revolution in our understanding of the Milky Way.” The Earthling was walking in a green, open environment, great hills of rock towering in the distance. He pulled out an odd screen of his own. “This is the data, and it looks like an artist’s impression of a galaxy, something from science fiction, but this is a high-precision 3D map of our home, of our island of stars.”

“I would love to be able to see it!” Makemake excitedly twisted his hands together. “Oh! Imagine how vast it must be!  A map of the entire Milky Way!”

“Not a lot of use, though.” Triton frowned at his friend. “We can’t really do anything with it, stuck in our system.”

“It doesn’t have to be of use, my friend!” Makemake implored with a wide smile. “The data is fascinating all on its own, regardless!”

“Hm.” Triton hummed, his expression suggesting that the dwarf planet had failed to convince him.

“And, we can even fly through it, such is the precision of the mapping of the position.” He showed the map, a dense series of dots, and pointed to it. “All these points of light are stars, some of them as far as 30,000 light years out from the Solar System.”

“T-that is quite a distance.” Mercury uttered, a tone of misgiving within his pitchy voice. 

“Doesn’t that mean that some stars it saw are already dead? Or some have been born but not recorded yet?” Mars questioned, turning to the resident star for an answer. Sol’s expression was considering, even as his gaze never left the screen.

“I’d suspect so, yes.” The Sun nodded eventually. “I can’t see how the Earthling would get around the very limitations of light-speed.”

“The map allows us to journey through the galaxy at impossible speeds, bringing distant stars within reach.” The map now filled the whole screen, and the camera slowly drifted through it. “But this is also a journey through time. The extraordinary thing about this map is that it’s alive, in a sense.”

“I’m trying to picture all those points of light as whole planetary systems, with planets and moons and dwarf planets.” Pluto shook his head in disbelief, “I’m getting a core-ache.”

Planet X gazed into the mess of bright dots, thousands of billions of them all racing past the screen. The distances seemed small, but his own experience had starkly shown him just how impossibly far every star was from their own system. The fact from the last episode, about rogue planets being likely more common than star-held planets, forced his mind to imagine uncountable numbers of lone planets drifting in that void between stars. Surrounded by light, but never able to reach it again. The ice giant shivered. 

“I mean, Gaia didn’t just measure the positions of these stars. It measured their velocities.” Brian was back, pointing to the small screen again. “That means we can tell where those stars are going, what the galaxy is going to be like in the future, but also we can tell where they came from. So what the galaxy was like in the past.”

“Maths is making these little creatures too powerful.” The Sun muttered disdainfully, curling his lip in irritation. “They know too much.”

“I don’t see the harm in it?” Jupiter countered, carefully watching his star. “They can’t do anything with the knowledge, and we wouldn't know it if they hadn’t seeked it out.”

“Hm, I still don’t like it.” The Sun concluded with a dismissive tone. 

“By reversing the direction of every star, we can rewind their histories, travelling backwards in time through billions of years.” The camera briefly showed a flock of some kind of Earthling, before cutting back to Brian. “Gaia has initiated a new science, a science of galactic archaeology, where we can ask questions about the origins of our galaxy itself.”

“What’s archaeology?” Proteus asked, his voice struggling to carry across the room. Planet X offered the little moon a smile, which was enthusiastically returned.

“I’m not sure, but it sounds like a fun word!” Neptune replied to his moon after none of the ‘Earthling experts’ seemed to have heard him. The little moon pouted, but the excitement never left his eyes.

When X had first met with the deep blue ice giant, only Proteus had shown any interest towards him. Neptune’s only major moon was standoffish and generally uninterested, while the rest of the moons had been hesitant and wary of him. Neptune himself had been excited at first, but Planet X quickly seemed to end up on his bad side. 

It had not been intentional. Having both of the ice giants on his side had been the goal from the beginning. But, after spending only a few hours with the two of them, it had become increasingly clear that Neptune would not suit his plans. He was not as eager it please him as Uranus was, and lacked seemingly any angle of conflict or discontent for X to use. He was a dead-end, plane and simple. And the blue planet didn’t even need to be told this, he’d removed himself from the conversation pretty quickly after X had begun to try his charm on Uranus. It hardly matters. The planet is mad, he would not serve my purpose in any meaningful way.

‘13.6 billion years ago’ faded onto the screen over a dark cloud of gas. “The first galaxies emerged just a few hundred million years after the Big Bang.” 

“Back here again.” Venus noted, arms crossed impatiently. 

“‘Back here again ’, as if we’re not literally watching the origin of all stars. All you do is complain!” Mercury mocked, rolling his eyes at the cloudy planet. Planet X wasn’t sure who was a more likely candidate for recruitment; the angry, bitter planet that was jealous of his neighbour, or the insecure, defensive little planet that doubted his place. Well, I can’t recruit both. They’d tear each other apart.

“The Universe was crisscrossed by a vast structure known as the cosmic web.” The gas was forming into the familiar lines seen in the first episode. “Great filaments of dark matter, along which gravity attracted ever denser concentrations of gas, separated by immense tracts of empty space.”

“I still don’t understand that ‘dark matter’ stuff.” Europa considered the screen with a suspicious look. At her side, Io nodded enthusiastically.

“Y-yeah! It’s s-so strange! A-and why c-can’t we s-see it?”

“It is kinda cool that something so mysterious is the reason stars exist.” Titan countered, and while Ganymede looked doubtful, he didn’t dispute the moon’s words.

“Sure, but it would still be cool to actually see it. Or touch it. Or know anything at all about it."

“The first stars were born where the filaments crossed, where the gas was dense enough to collapse under its own gravity and for stars to ignite.” The gas burst into light, and many more stars began to light the darkness of the screen. “New stars formed in their billions, bound together by their mutual gravitational pull.”

“So galaxies are formed because a bunch of stars are pulling on each other?” Uranus tried to summarize, glancing at the Sun with questioning eyes. “Then why are they going around in a spiral? Wouldn't that require a centre mass?”

As the star avoided the pale giant’s gaze, Planet X pondered the question himself. For as long as he’d spent staring into the Solar System, he’d spent a similar time staring out of it at the vast galaxy. Even in his dark, open viewpoint, he had never glimpsed anything that could be called a centre-piece for the galaxy. Physics would suggest there is one…but what is it?

“These were the first galaxies.” The new lights were now swirling around each other in a vast cluster. “Amongst them, the Milky Way in its embryonic form, far smaller and more irregular in structure than the mature spiral galaxy we inhabit today.”

“Baby pictures for the galaxy!” Neptune grinned, nudging the planet next to X. Uranus offered his friend a weak smile before quickly wiping it away upon noticing X’s gaze. It was truly exhilarating how quick the planet was to hide parts of himself just for acceptance. It makes him far too malleable, I fear. But, he will serve my purpose just fine for now. 

Neptune, on the other hand, was a lost cause. Planet X had hoped that whatever madness had afflicted the ice giant could be reversed or used, but the issue was clearly too deep. And, given the strange look the deep blue planet was sending his way, Neptune would not take kindly to being more directly recruited either.

“The exact details of the Milky Way’s birth remain the subject of research, but thanks to modern-day observations, the story of how our galaxy grew from those early beginnings is coming into much sharper relief.” The Earthling was back on the sea-vessel, traveling across a far wider expanse of water. 

“The Gaia data allows us to see how the Milky Way evolved throughout its history, and one of the clues that it’s had an interesting history can be seen in this animation…” He explained that most of the stars had regular orbits around the centre, but some of the stars clearly had wildly different orbits. “...and that tells us that something dramatic happened at some point as our galaxy made its way through the Universe.”

“It almost looks like the orbits of irregular moons.” Iapetus was squinting at the screen with a furrowed brow. Just behind him, another moon poked her head up.

“Captured stars?” Phoebe suggested, “I didn’t know that was even a thing that could happen!”

“If we have captured moons, and possibly captured stars…does that mean captured planets are a thing?” Kore, one of Jupiter’s smaller moons, added in a wondering voice.

“Anything is possible, I suppose?” Triton seemed unsure of the answer, fiddling with his sunglasses as they watched the odd orbits of those stars. 

The idea of a rogue planet finding a home in a new system was surprisingly…nice? It sounded painfully optimistic considering the vast distances between stars. But, if it could happen, that at least gave those doomed planets a way out of the dark void. Though, I imagine any planet acquired that way would have a wildly unstable orbit. And that would bring a whole new set of problems.

‘12 billion years ago’ appeared over an image of more gases, a few pin-pricks of light mixed in. “Across the Universe, hundreds of billions of galaxies were forming. Some, just a few dozen, were born close enough to the Milky Way that their mutual gravitational pull drew them together, forming what we now know as the local group of galaxies, our home archipelago.”

“Now GALAXIES have groups too?” Ariel sounded impressed, twisting around to look at her fellow major moons. “Next we’ll find out Universes have groups!”

“Well, it has been speculated-” Makemake began with a grin, only to be quickly shushed by Eris. 

“Dude, last time you tried to explain that, Haumea had a mental breakdown.” The pale dwarf planet hissed when Makemake sent her a confused look.

“Six billion years before the Earth formed, some of the Milky Way stars already had their own planets.” An alien planetary surface was shown, cold and rocky, and the screen proclaimed it to be ‘Kepler-444 f’. “Early worlds that were about to witness the transformation of the galaxy.”

“Oh, did they get to see something EPIC?” Deimos scrambled out from behind the bean bag, quickly followed by Phobos and a handful of other small moons. Planet X wasn’t sure when the noisiest moons in the system had gained a few companions in chaos-making.

“Did the galaxy explode?” One of Jupiter’s moons, Sinope, exclaimed with a wide-eyed expression. 

“Don’t be silly! If it exploded, how would we be here?” Phobos countered with a scoff, adding in an authoritative voice, “Clearly, it imploded. That’s the opposite! My planet told me!”

“Oo!” The gaggle of moons seemed far too impressed by that nonsense answer. X shook his head at the sight. I’m so glad I don’t have to drag a pack of childish moons around with me. It would rot my mind faster than Neptune’s did.

“The wonderful thing about astronomy is that you can look up into the sky, and even if you can’t see worlds, you can imagine them and you can imagine their stories.” Brian was standing in the dark, gazing at the night sky. The Earthling brought out the laser-pointer again, aiming it into the sky. “Over there, close to the bright star Vega is Kepler-444, the faint ancient star, and planets orbiting around it, that’s witnessed pretty much the entire history of the Milky Way galaxy.”

“Oh! We saw them earlier.” Neptune recalled, surprising more planets than just X. “The triple star system?”

“Well, one of them must be Kepler-444, I suppose.” The Sun studied the screen thoughtfully.

“It’s crazy to think they’ve basically watched the whole evolution of our galaxy.” Mars put in with a tone of awe. 

“I wonder if it’s been interesting? Or really dull?” Mercury added in a lighter voice, “I hope they get to see these kinds of documentaries too, just to liven things up a bit.”

X had not truly considered the implications of them being here. Sure, it was an Earthling-made documentary, but surely other worlds, other systems, had been abducted by that thing. What did they watch? Documentaries from Earth? Or from their own living world’s inhabitants? But, according to the last episode, beings like that were likely to be very rare indeed. Maybe only systems with living worlds and intelligent Life were being picked out? That must not be a very large number. Or a very long time-frame. Just my luck that the time I finally return to the Solar System is when Earth’s silly little creatures created documentaries we can be forced to watch.

“And then, maybe swing around in the sky, just close to the plough constellation that everybody can recognise,” He aimed at a line of stars. “And follow it down. There’s a really faint star there. You can’t see it with the naked eye. It’s so nondescript it doesn’t even have a name. It’s got a number.” The Earthling explained, spinning his laser around it slowly. “It’s called HD 73394. But that star is an alien star.”

“I think you guys are right about the captured star theory.” Earth muttered, tilting his head at the screen. “I can’t see any other way a star could be an ‘alien’.”

“Its name is kinda awful as well, poor star had no luck.” Mars joked, turning a painfully hopeful look at the living planet. Planet X almost felt sympathetic when the gesture was ignored. 

“It was born in another galaxy, and it entered the Milky Way in a galactic collision with a smaller galaxy. And Kepler-444 over there witnessed it all and witnessed the Milky Way being thrown into chaos.” 

“COLLISION?” Saturn’s distressed voice set X’s teeth on edge. Must he be so loud?

“I didn’t even know galaxies could collide.” Uranus mumbled at his side, casting a sideways glance at him. “Sounds pretty crazy, don’t ya think?”

“I’ll admit I hadn't considered it. But I suppose anything with mass should be able to attract others with mass.” Planet X replied while the Earthling on screen faded from view. “I do wonder what the effects would be?”

“‘Chaos’ apparently, mate.”

‘10 billion years ago’ faded over a view of a star, five small planets following it around in orbit. “Kepler-444 was orbited by five planets. And something new had appeared in their skies.”

“I wonder if those planets are still there? If their star is so old, will they be as well?” Mercury asked the room, considering the screen with a captivated expression.

“It would be fascinating to speak with them, if only for a while.” Jupiter spoke into the silence following the smallest planet’s words. 

X couldn’t help but roll his eyes. As if Jupiter could brave the trip needed for such a visit. He’d barely survived with his sanity intact after the Sun had rearranged the system, and he was only in Neptune’s orbit. When I get my way, he’ll get to wallow in my orbit for the rest of our lives. I’ll make sure of that!

“A smaller galaxy was approaching the Milky Way, with stars that burn bright blue.” A second galaxy was shown beginning to mesh with their own. “Gaia Enceladus. A member of the local group, roughly a quarter of the size of our own galaxy.”

“Gaia Enceladus?” One of Saturn’s moons shot up in outrage, his icy surface pox-marked with geysers. “Why are they using my name for this? And for such a small galaxy! Are they making fun of me?” 

“I think they just ran out of names, dude.” The Earth gave Enceladus an easy-going grin, contrasting the fuming outrage the moon projected. “They only have so many things to name space-stuff after.”

Jus as it looked like the icy moon would accept this explanation, the Earth opened his mouth again. "Anyway, it's better then their other name for it. Gaia Sausage sounds much sillier."

"WHY-Why would you name a galaxy that!" Enceladus exclaimed, drawing a laugh from the Earth.

"I don't know, really. I think it was something to do with the shape?" The living planet answered after calming down. "Either way, it has pretty odd name options."

"HEY!"

“Over hundreds of millions of years, the galaxies collided, the stars of Gaia Enceladus penetrating deep into the Milky Way’s heart.” The images were stunning, framed from the skyscape of those exo-planets, as two hordes of stars melded together. “But our galaxy held its ground, capturing billions of incoming stars.”

“Did that hurt the galaxies?” Larissa asked quietly, climbing her planet’s knee to see over the rest of the Neptunian moons. 

“Considering I’ve never heard of Gaia Enceladus before, I don’t think that galaxy came out terribly well in the end.” Pluto responded a tad too bluntly, going by the eyebrow raise Triton gave him.

“An entire galaxy swallowed whole.” It was hard to tell which stars had come from which galaxy now, so mixed with each other on the screen. “These alien stars remain in our galaxy to this day.”

“D-did any s-stars get h-hurt, then?” Io stammered as the screen was filled with stars. “When t-they got squished t-together like t-that?”

“Considering it took millions of years to happen, I doubt any stars would have been caught unawares.” Europa dismissed. “If they couldn’t dodge an entire galaxy headed their way, I don’t know what to think.”

“The stars may have been unaffected, but what of the planets? The moons?” Callisto brought up with a bored expression. “I would not be surprised if some of the outer ones got their orbits disrupted.”

“Maybe, but we can’t know what really happened for sure.” Ganymede’s gruff voice countered, keeping his gaze forward as he spoke. “It‘s no use wondering about it.”

“If it caused the suffering of others like us, I think it’s worth wondering about.” Titan interjected, earning a mild glare from Europa.

“We didn’t ask you.”

“The Gaia data tells us that collisions are the driving force of galactic evolution.” The Earthling was carefully making his way across a rocky coastline. “Some galaxies cease to exist as independent islands of stars, while others grow and prosper. The survival of the fittest writ large.”

“‘Survival of the fittest’?” Mars asked, turning once again to the living world. “Isn’t that something you mentioned once? About your Earthlings?”

The blue-green planet frowned thunderously at his fellow rocky world, clearly not ready to move on from that silly fight from earlier. Planet X could admit he hadn’t been paying enough attention to it from the start to really get the full picture, but he got the feeling that more than a few lies had been floating around. Well, that’s one thing I can change. No more lies, not in this system.  

Sitting at his planet’s side, the moon shuffled his seat to face the red planet a little better, expression searching. Whatever the moon saw in the red planet wasn’t enough to remove the tension in the small celestial body as he whispered back to his own planet. The Earth’s face was firmly turned forward and his voice was carefully neutral as he spoke.

“Yes, that is one way to describe a part of evolution. Though usually it’s used to describe individual creatures surviving long enough to reproduce, not entire galaxies swallowing each other.” 

“‘When galaxies collide’, that phrase puts images of Hollywood disaster movies into the mind.” Brian exclaimed, still walking beside the sea. “Stars getting ripped apart.”

“Sounds…painful?” Miranda finished lamely, frowning in confusion at the screen. “How would that even happen?”

“I’m more confused by ‘Hollywood disaster movies’?” Titania questioned, “What does that even mean?”

“Um, Hollywood is a place on Earth’s surface, I’m pretty sure?” Titan replied hesitantly. “Luna mentioned it once, I think?” He turned to the Earth's moon, who met his eyes with a nod.

“Yeah, it’s a place where the Earthlings make movies, which is basically like these documentaries, only fictional.” Luna added on, and Titania seemed intrigued by the concept. “Disaster movies are one of the popular types, and often involve something like a natural disaster or space impact.”

“They make movies about that stuff? For fun?” Oberon sounded nervous at the very thought of it.

“Yep! They love a good scary movie. I think they like the way it makes them feel.” Luna shrugged, like intentionally scaring yourself was just a bad habit of the Earthlings.

“They sound epic! Can we watch one?” Ariel jumped forward to face the living planet, who had been watching the exchange with a small smile. Earth was momentarily taken aback by the little moon’s enthusiasm, then mirrored her grin with a laugh.

“Sure! If I can work out how to.”

“But that’s not what happens at all. I mean, if you imagine that our Sun, let’s say the size of a small pebble or a grain of sand,” He bent down to grab a small rock. “The nearest neighbouring star in this region of the galaxy will be somewhere over by those hills.” He pointed far into the distance.

“Wait, can you even feel the gravity of other stars then? At that distance?” Uranus questioned the star, and Planet X found himself curious about the answer. He’d certainly never felt the gravity of any other stars while in the edges of the system, but his own mass was miniscule compared to the Sun’s.

“...Vaguely? I can tell when they are near, like Proxima Centauri, but not enough to influence anything in the system.” The Sun tried to explain. “Sometimes, a star passes very close by, and tends to disrupt the Oort cloud a bit.”

“Ahh! Just like you mentioned, Sedna.” Makemake exclaimed in excitement, which was not echoed on the red dwarf planet’s face. “You told me your orbit was disrupted by a large gravitational influence, sending it into an elliptical shape. You thought it might have been a star or large ice giant!”

While Sedna looked distinctly uncomfortable with this reveal, Planet X was trying to recall ever seeing her before. If any planet had indeed influenced her orbit, it would have been his. Neptune was far too close to the system, and Uranus even more so. His memories did not highlight any specific encounter with a dwarf planet, and maybe she was right and a star did pass a bit too close. The lack of a solid answer irritated his mind. Well, either way, it’s not my problem. I can’t help having the largest hill-sphere of any planet in this wretched system, and I certainly can’t be expected to know everything my gravity impacts.

“The distances between stars is immense. The stars don’t collide, so when galaxies interact, the stars get scattered.” He waved his arms in emphasis. “The shape of the galaxy changes, but nothing gets destroyed.”

“Still sounds messy. A bunch of stars getting tossed all over the place.” Ganymede watched the screen disdainfully. 

“Again, I can’t imagine their planets had a nice time of it.” Callisto drawls at his side, tossing a glance at Europa. “Though I suppose that might just be the norm, considering the Earthlings think most planets are rogue ones.”

“O-oh, w-why did t-they have t-to m-mention that!” Io complained with a worsened stammer, “I-I’m not g-going to b-be able t-to s-s-sleep for an o-orbit!” 

“And in fact, sometimes galactic collisions can be engines of creation.” The rocky beach turned to a galactic overview. 

“I guess dumping a bunch of new stars into a galaxy would increase the number of stars?” Earth frowned at the screen, trying to puzzle out the Earthling’s meaning.

“I don’t think he’s referring to something as simple as that.” Iapetus suggested, “I imagine more than just stars were added to the galaxy.”

“Gaia Enceladus, the alien galaxy, had brought with it fresh supplies of interstellar gas. The raw material of star formation.” A new star ignited in the mess of gas, followed by others. “For a time, this gas heightened the rate at which the Milky Way could produce new stars, helping it to grow.”

“Oh! It just brought a bunch of gases.” Mercury realised, watching the new stars spark to life in the darkness. 

“So all you need to keep a galaxy going is…more galaxies to absorb?” Venus sounded uncertain, “What happens when you’ve absorbed every other galaxy in the local group?”

“End of the galaxy.” The Sun’s monotone answer was quickly followed by a wide grin, “But not to worry, Venus. We’ll both be long dead by then!”

“Ha, yeah, thanks for the reminder, Sun.” 

“But long before our star was born, the Gaia Enceladus collision era drew to a close.”

“Well, that didn’t last very long.” Triton muttered, leaning lazily against the dwarf planets’ bean bag. 

“They did say it was a small galaxy.” Pluto sighed, only to be nudged by his moon, who was wearing a sickeningly earnest smile. Moons are so strange, Planet X couldn’t help but pull back his lip at the display, pathetic.  

“What triggered the formation of the Sun has long remained a puzzle.” The screen was back in the Solar System, Earth’s form hanging in the left side. 

The gazes of the room were magnetized to the Sun, who glared back in annoyance. “Don’t look at me! I don’t know any more than I already told you!”

Planet X was surprised to hear the proud star admit to a gap in his knowledge. It would be interesting to see just how much more these Earthlings knew. I wish I could recruit them for my plan, they seem oddly resourceful and knowledgeable. Too bad they’re barely the size of asteroid debris.

“But the Gaia telescope has discovered new clues to its origin in the events that followed billions of years later, as our island of stars continued to evolve.” The screen spun out into the galaxy again, music rising as it took in the whole of the Milky Way.

“Is it really that bright in the centre?” Mercury wondered aloud as the room watched the huge island of stars light their faces. 

“I’d imagine so. If there are more stars closer to the centre, there would be more light.” Jupiter deduced, casting a curious glance at the Sun. The star just nodded, far too focused on the screen to turn away for longer than a second.

“On the distant shores of the Milky Way, Gaia had investigated a structure of epic proportions.” The camera widened its view to show a line of light. “A stream of stars winding their way around the galaxy.”

“But they’re not on the same plane as our galaxy?” Charon pointed up at the screen, tracing her finger along the curve of the ring. “See, it’s almost the complete opposite.”

“Hahaah!” The mad dwarf planet giggled to themselves, following her finger with their eyes.

“I suppose that means it’s another galaxy? One that got absorbed as well?” Pluto suggested after the giggling died down.

“A very big one, from the look of it.” Eris muttered stiffly, eyeing the ring with suspicion.

“This stream of stars is enormous.” Brian was sitting near a burning pile of organic material. “It’s almost unimaginable in scale. Look up into the night sky, those stars that you can see are at most a few thousand light years away.”

“I’ve never really thought of those stars as ‘local’, relatively.” Mars considered the Earthling’s words, “But, I guess they are, at least compared to the rest.”

“And yet we still can’t talk to them.” Venus rolled his eyes, voice temperamental. “What is the point of learning so much about stuff we can’t use?”

“New stuff is fun!” Neptune grinned at the grumpy planet. “I love learning about it! Even if we can’t do anything with it, it still has value!”

“Agree to disagree.” Venus replied sullenly.

“Think about that…” He explained that this meant that the light had begun its journey to Earth at the time when ‘pharaohs’ ruled ‘Egypt’. 

Planet X had little frame of reference for what those words meant in terms of how far those stars were. He assumed they were Earthling terms of some kind, but he could not puzzle out their meaning. They sound interesting, though. If those creatures are good at anything, it’s coming up with interesting names.

“Then if you look out to the Milky Way…” The Earthling pointed to the sky as he explained that light from the shores of the galaxy began its journey even further back, when ‘Neanderthals’ were in ‘Europe’.

The number of quizzical looks aimed at the living planet seemed to catch him off-guard. Earth’s typical grin soon found its way back onto his face, however, as he began to explain his Earthling’s words.

“Pharaohs is a type of human Earthling that used to be in charge of a place on my surface called Egypt, but not anymore.” He simplified, brows furrowing in thought. “Um, Europe is also a place on my surface, but the Neanderthals were actually a different species of hominid from the humans, so they looked very similar but weren’t the same. They’re all dead now. So basically, he's saying it was a very long time ago.”

“Oh. Extinct?” Jupiter asked after the Earth’s words ended.

“Yep. Probably because of the humans as well, honestly. They couldn’t compete with them. Survival of the fittest.”

Planet X felt his interest in these creatures rising. Life seemed far more brutal and harsh than X had been led to believe, with creatures eating each other and forcing each other into extinction. Maybe Life isn’t as fragile as I thought? It certainly sounds determined, and I can respect that.

“But this stream of stars wraps around the galaxy. It’s hundreds of thousands of light years in extent.” Brian implored to the camera. “A structure that large demands an explanation.” 

“Does it really?” Uranus’ bored tone surprised X, reminding him that he wasn’t here to sit around learning about microscopic beings that had no impact on him. No. He was here to get his revenge. To finally right the wrongs done to him all those billions of years ago. To make Jupiter and Saturn feel even a nanosecond of his suffering, cut off from his home star and sent adrift in the dark void. But first, I need allies. Solid, certain allies. And that means I must offer them something they won’t refuse.

Quietly, not eager to alert the mad planet on Uranus’ other side, Planet X spoke into his ear. “Say, Uranus, have you ever wanted a different orbit? One closer to the Sun, maybe?”

“I mean, yeah, mate. Of course I’d want that.” Uranus turned to him with a questioning, uncertain look. “But that’ll never happen. The Sun decides the orbits, and we’re barely remembered by him.”

“What if we could make him remember us? You know as well as I that this Solar System needs re-arranging. My old orbit was never beyond Neptune’s, but even after they brought me back, they did not restore my rightful place.” Planet X argued, his whisper dropping to a deeper note. “Jupiter tossed me out, but he was never punished, was he?”

“I-I guess not. The Sun wasn’t very happy with him, though-” 

“Exactly! If you’d done something as wrong as throwing an entire planet out of our system, you’d have been punished far more severely. But, of course, we are not the Sun’s favourites.” Planet X pressed, encouraged by the thoughtful look igniting in the pale planet’s eyes. “If we could convince the Sun to move the orbits, we might finally have a chance to win his favour!”

“B-but how?” Uranus stammered, taken aback by the statement. Planet X cursed in his mind. Too fast, slow down.

“Well, first things first, we need to take some control back, stand out a bit more. Your name, for instance. It’s…interesting, but not fitting, I think?” Planet X tried, putting a pause on revealing his bolder ideas and plans just yet. This could still be a step in the right direction, even if it is a slow one.

“Um…yeah, mate. It’s-it’s pretty lame.” The pale planet finished with uncertainty, turning his eyes away in embarrassment. “I need to think of a better one, before the Sun forgets his promise.”

“Promise?” X frowned at the unexpected information. 

“Oh yeah, you weren’t in the last documentary situation. Well, I guess that just proves how quickly you’ve fit in, I can’t even remember what you’ve seen! ” Uranus realised, continuing to ramble despite X’s attempts to interrupt. “I-I kind of blew up at everyone and the Sun offered me a chance to change my name. I didn’t even know he was allowed to change names. And he hasn’t brought it up since, so I’ve not mentioned it again, you know, just in case. But if you think I should do it, I will! I really want a new one, but none of my ideas are any good. See, I have a list-”

Planet X placed his hand on the notepad before Uranus could fully lift it up, hoping to stop the flow of words before he was forced to read ten pages of names. Uranus seemed to realize he’d been rambling and gave him a sheepish look.

“Well, Uranus is still the name of an Earthling god, is it not?” At the nod from Uranus, Planet X grinned. “But a Greek one, correct? While everyone else is Roman.”

“Yeah…it's a bit odd, I guess.” Uranus sighed, self-consciously shrugging his shoulders up to his ears.

“What if you go by the Roman version of your name as well, like the others?” Planet X suggested carefully, finally speaking the name he’d been sitting on for millennia. “Caelus is a strong name, and far more…dignified than Uranus?”

“Caelus?” Uranus considered the word, mouthing it over and over again to get a feel for it. A smile crossed his face at last. “I think you’re right, mate! It’s definitely an improvement!”

“Well then, Caelus, let's keep watching, and I’ll tell you a few more of my ideas.” Planet X grinned back at the planet, keeping track of the way his eyes lit up at the use of the new name. Perfect, this will tie him to me for a while at least. Long enough to get my revenge.

Chapter Text

The documentary ploughed on without pause despite the new distraction Planet X had found. The look in Uran-Caelus’ eyes as he’d offered up the new name confirmed to X that he had at least one planet he could count on. But I need more than one.

Casting a critical gaze across the room, he revisited a few potential targets. Hopefully, Caelus’ moons would fall in step behind their planet and support him as well, but Neptune’s moons were still a wild-card. The major moon was unlikely, too aloof and sceptical, unless he could find some angle to approach him from. The others were small, too small for any real use, but having their support might help convince other moon groups. Proteus would be a good place to start, I suppose.

Of the gas giants’ moons, only a few stood out to him, namely Ganymede, Europa, Dione, and Enceladus. While he had not heard them state any explicit hatred or dislike of their planets, they did seem to be the most discontent with how the Solar System was currently set up. I can use that, at least. They don’t need to know of my plans for their planets in particular.

The rocky planets weren’t a complete write-off, but it would be risky to recruit so close to the Sun. Mercury seemed discontent, but not with the Sun. And taking on the smallest planet would likely dissuade the other target, who was far larger and angrier. Planet X could admit he wasn’t completely sure of the source of Venus’ fury, but if he could channel it to his goals, it would be game-changing. Is it something about habitability? Maybe I can argue another orbit change?

“The stream is wreckage, it’s footprints, if you like, of a very violent event.” Brian was still sitting before the burning organic matter. 

The room was watching the arc of stars with curious eyes, tracing it as the Earthling continued to explain its origins. 

“Oh, I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Caelus was quietly whispering at his side, casting excited glances at the room. Planet X fought down the urge to roll his eyes. On the other side of Caelus, Neptune was turning his eyes carefully, trying not to give away his curiosity about Caelus’ sudden mood change. Maybe this might improve his attitude towards me? Surely helping his friend would endear such a simple-minded planet to my cause. As useless as he seems, any extra mass is always something I should encourage.

“Gaia has confirmed the origins of this immense structure through the telescope’s unique ability to help us travel through time, backwards.” The screen was once again filled by the vast galaxy, showing the ring of stars beyond. 

“It is a neat little ability, this time-travel it can do.” Makemake nodded to the screen, turning an eye to his friends. “Even if it can only see star movements.”

“The Earthlings are certainly finding out a lot of stuff from it.” Quaoar agreed, their gaze a tad overwhelmed by the information.

“I can’t wait to see what else they’ve found out!” Haumea grinned with excitement, shuffling in his seat restlessly. 

“The data tell a story of a new age of star birth.” The screen zoomed backwards through various planets and stars. “Of the transformation of the Milky Way triggered by another galactic collision.”

“More collisions.” Though the tone was slightly resigned, the gleam of interest in the star’s eyes could not be mistaken. As far as Planet X was concerned, this was completely justified. The images flashing past the screen drew his attention like an asteroid into his gravity. 

“It was another galaxy from our local group.” Flashes of galaxies and stars passed by the screen. “Sagittarius Dwarf.”

“A dwarf galaxy? That’s a thing?” Mercury frowned at the screen.

“I mean, if it was smaller than our galaxy, maybe they needed a way to distinguish it?” Mars speculated in response. “Ours seems to be pretty big, all things considered.”

“Yeah, and getting bigger apparently, with all this galaxy absorption it’s doing.” Mercury’s raspy voice agreed, waving a hand at the screen full of stars.

“Perhaps 20 times smaller than the Milky Way, it was torn apart in the impact.” 

“Lovely.” Planet X couldn’t help but mutter sarcastically under his breath. This was hardly an unexpected reveal, he hadn’t been labouring under the delusion that the two galaxies had nicely passed each other without issue. And, from the general atmosphere of the room, no one else was terribly surprised either.

“IT ATE ANOTHER ONE?” No one it seemed, except for Mars’ little pebbles.

“Sagittarius Dwarf brought fresh supplies of the vital ingredient for star birth.” The camera was back on Earth’s surface, showing green hills and water. Brian was standing near an odd machine, fiddling with the controls.

“What is that Earthling doing now?” Venus sneered as Brian turned a dial on the odd contraption. It had a wide disk attached to it, pointing into the sky.

“Science. I suppose?” Saturn sounded mildly confused, watching the machine with a furrowed brow. “Though I can’t imagine what it has to do with star formation, exactly.”

“That is the sound of the most common element in the Universe.” Brian pointed to the machine, which was making a slight hissing noise. “This radio telescope is pointing towards the Milky Way, which has just risen above the horizon over there behind the clouds.”

“Well, the most common element sounds irritating.” Ganymede rolled his eyes at the screen. “Does he actually expect me to believe he’s listening to the galaxy’s gas right now?”

“I would not count them out, Ganymede. These Earthlings have been surprising us every time we doubt them.” Jupiter countered his moon’s words, offering him a condescending smile that turned X’s core. Classic Jupiter, thinking he knows better than everyone else.

“Maybe. But listening to hydrogen? Seriously?” The moon replied, his incredulity unmarred. Hmm, that moon would definitely be a good target. And maybe I can find a way to turn his loyalty, if I find the right mark.

“Well, let’s wait and see how the Earthling explains it. It could be far simpler than you think.” Jupiter appealed to his moon calmly, but his watchful eye remained even after Ganymede had turned back to the screen. I’ll need to get him away from the moon first, I expect. No use approaching Ganymede just to reveal everything to his nosy planet by accident.

“And what you’re listening to is hydrogen gas.” The background hissing continued as the screen morphed into a nebula. “The radio telescope is detecting the faint signal of hydrogen from across the galaxy.”

“Wow! They can hear the gas?” Rhea’s excited voice emitted from the side of the room where Saturn’s moon collection had surrounded the Earth and his moon. While Luna still seemed tense, sitting rigidly at his planet’s side and carefully watching the other rocky planets across the room, the living planet himself was far more relaxed than X had seen earlier. Though his position against the wall hardly looked comfortable, his form gave no hint of discomfort. 

Planet X tried to recall the details of the argument he’d overheard. It hadn’t made much sense to him, but clearly the living planet was angry about some perceived secret he was being denied knowledge of. The only secret Planet X knew about was Theia and Proto’s collision, but he’d already heard the Earth mention them by name. If I had the answer…or if I could get him to believe I have the answer? No. The Solar System’s golden boy is not a suitable target. He would never support the orbit changes I need to make, and certainly Venus’ potential support would be compromised . Still, I will watch him closely all the same.

“Hydrogen is found throughout the Milky Way, sometimes in the form of towering clouds, light years high.” The nebula they were looking at rose in a series of towers. ‘The Pillars of Creation, Eagle Nebula’ faded into view next to it.

“That’s all made with hydrogen gas?” Caelus wondered aloud, gazing in awe at the colourful nebulae scattered across the screen. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“How is it so colourful? And bright?” Neptune asked, also admiring the display. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s a mix of things?” Earth began hesitantly, but grew more confident in his words as the information came back to him. “Some of it is just light being reflected off the dust by nearby stars, and some of it is photons from the stars within it ionizing the gas.”

“Oh! Aren’t some of the colours caused by different elements being present?” Luna jumped in with an excited grin. The Earth looked surprised by the inclusion, but nodded happily in reply while Luna continued. “I remember asking about them once. Hubble’s pictures really are amazing to see!”

A few more nebulae passed by the screen in beautiful bursts of colour. ‘Horsehead Nebula’ and ‘Snow Angel Nebula’. “These regions are star factories, where the dense clouds of hydrogen gas collapse under gravity to forge new stars.”

“So, stars are being born in those things?” Titania squinted at the screen as the images moved slowly. “They must be huge, if every one of those tiny specks is a star.”

“Yes, all those dots are stars, and likely only the brightest ones are being shown.” The Sun confirmed, his voice softer than usual as he witnessed the radiance before them. “Most of those stars are still far from each other, they just look close because of the scale.”

“Wow…” Oberon’s wide eyes blinked at the sight, his head resting against Titania’s side. The rest of Caelus’ moons were similarly bunched up, pressing against each other as they sat along the edge of their planet’s bean bag.

“Hydrogen atoms radiate radio waves at a very particular wavelength, 21 centimetres.” Brian was back in front of the screen, talking to the camera. “And as I speak, that radiation is being captured by that radio telescope…” He explained that millions of years ago, the atoms emitted the radiation, and now it was picking up on it for us to hear. “...So we’re listening to the lifeblood of our galaxy.”

“...I guess that makes more sense than I was expecting.” Ganymede reluctantly admitted, casting a suspicious look at the Earthling contraption. “Still a bit unbelievable.”

“That’s what my Earthlings are best at! Being unbelievably cool!” Earth sent a cocky grin to the moon, who’s only response was a half-hearted scowl. Across the room, Planet X saw the red planet’s head lift and turn towards the sound, an almost suspicious expression settling on his face. Well, that’s another reason not to try and recruit the Earth, his little friend would definitely be watching me the whole time. Rocky planets are weird.

‘5.7 billion years ago’ appeared over the view of a nebula, new stars sparkling to life. “As Sagittarius Dwarf passed through the Milky Way, it brought fresh gas and fresh energy.”

“It’s wonderful to think that each of those new baby stars also means new planets! And new moons! So many new lives!” Saturn smiled at the sight of each little burst of light, his hands held together in front of his chest. “This kind of collision is definitely the top of the nicest scale.”

“The others are also arranged on this ‘niceness scale’?” Dione asked incredulously, Peering up at her planet. Saturn froze, his expression turning horrified.

“Oh, no. I didn't mean it like that!” The ringed planet scrambled to explain. Dione looked taken aback by the reaction, an expression of regret flickering across it as she tried to interrupt her planet’s rambling. “I-I just meant that, compared t-to all the other types, it’s actually nice! N-not horrible and painful and destructive and-”

“It’s fine, Saturn. I was being sarcastic.” Dione finally managed to interrupt, her eyes carefully watching her planet as he calmed himself down. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“T-that’s okay, Dione. I-I just overreacted, you know what I’m like!” Saturn reassured his moon, but from the expressions being exchanged between the whole Saturnian group, Planet X doubted they would be forgetting this. Similarly, X caught a worried Jupiter also gazing at Saturn, the sickly care in his eyes boiling X’s core. Ugh, why do I have to watch this?

“The impact sent ripples across the Milky Way, triggering another spectacular era of star formation.” A new star burst bright from the corner of the screen. “And in the outer regions of the galaxy, our own star was born.”

As the gazes of the room once again turned to the star, Sol shifted uncomfortably in his seat, steam drifting from his form. “I have no idea. I wasn’t told about any galaxy collisions, but maybe…?” 

“I suppose it isn’t something easy to see, at the level of a single star.” Planet X spoke up, his own speculation spilling from his mouth as he considered it. If these Earthlings thought the Sun’s formation was triggered by a galactic collision, maybe it was? The star’s own story did not necessarily dispute this. A star going Supernova near his local group would explain how separated he was, but their initial formation would’ve still needed a lot of hydrogen gas. Gas from another galaxy. “It would have triggered a chain of events, possibly, that led to our Sun forming.”

“Hm.” The Sun considered his words, or more accurately, considered him, closely. Whatever he saw there was enough for him to nod a silent agreement to his statement, but Planet X got the feeling it was reluctant. This was not a good sign for his plan. Sure, his plan would eventually involve an ‘uprising’ against the Sun, but he did not want to antagonise the most powerful celestial in the system. I’ve been too brash and obvious with my disdain for his ‘favourite’ planets. I need to tone it down or risk losing my chance.

“The Sun was soon joined by the Earth,” The screen shifted to show the living planet next to the Sun. “And together, they set out on their journey through the galaxy.”

“What are we, asteroids?” Venus snarked as the screen turned to his fellow rocky planet. “It’s not just Earth and the Sun spinning around the galaxy. There’s like 8 other planets!”

“And over 390 moons!” Enceladus added loudly.

“And, um, at least 7 dwarf planets?” Pluto’s voice was significantly quieter and more hesitant as he joined in. 

Planet X signed internally. This Solar System was exhausting with this constant tension between all the different groups. He’d been bored at the fringes of it, but he was beginning to miss the quiet. Well, that can be a long-term goal of my plan. Making everyone get along and stop arguing all the time. 

“We were born in the Milky Way,” Brian was walking to a rocky coastline. “But we may have been conceived in a collision.”

“Ugh, I do not like that phrasing.” Earth muttered under his breath, so quietly Planet X almost didn’t hear it. His moon frowned at his side, expression momentarily distracted, before snapping back and gently pressing against the living planet. 

“What does ‘conceived’ mean?” Deimos piped up, standing on his planet’s bean bag to see over to the Earthling experts in the room. 

The Earth huffed out a laugh and called back. “I’m not answering that! Ask Mars!”

As Earth and Luna laughed between themselves, the little moon turned an excited look to his horrified planet, who quietly scrambled to shush his moon.

“Now, we can’t say for certain that the collision with Sagittarius Dwarf caused the formation of the Sun.” The Earthling was now strolling away from the water, surrounded by green plants on all sides. “The data is not precise enough and our understanding is not deep enough for that.”

“Sounds usual for them. Not being certain about these things, yet saying them anyway.” Caelus commented bitterly at his side, his sketchpad clutched in one hand. 

“Well, they probably can’t be fully certain about anything they didn’t witness themselves.” Neptune offered as a counter, an absentminded smile still settled over his features. “Even magical time-travel telescopes have limits!”

“It’s not- Nevermind.” Caelus began to reply, only to give up with a resigned sigh. 

“But what we can say is that the birth of the Sun coincided with enhanced rates of star formation in the Milky Way caused by that collision.” Brian explained to the camera. “But that’s not quite the end of the story, because in a very real sense, the collision is still underway.”

“It’s still hitting us?” Mercury questioned, then added, “I guess they did say it would take billions of years for a galactic collision to take place.”

“Even though it’s a small one?” Mars asked with a confused tone. “I mean, small relative to our own.”

“Even a small galaxy can be 10,000 light-years across. That’s a lot of stars to mix with.” Jupiter considered with a thoughtful expression on his face. “It would definitely take awhile.”

“Yeah, but longer than the Sun’s been alive? That’s hard to picture.”

“Hey! I told you, I’m actually young! Relatively .” The star called towards the rocky planet, who dipped his head minutely under the Sun’s glare.

“The remains of Sagittarius Dwarf are still orbiting on the fringes of the Milky Way.” The camera panned out to show lakes on Earth’s surface before cutting to the galaxy. “Over the last five billion years, the galaxy has crossed our path two more times, each interaction triggering a new generation of star birth.”

“I suppose that is right in the time-frame for triggering my formation.” The Sun considered the Earthling’s words with a careful eye. 

“And it sounds like it’s still making new stars!” Saturn smiled hopefully. “So the galaxy is still growing!”

“A fresh sprinkling of light inside our galaxy’s spiral arms.” The pin-points of light lit all over the screen, glowing in colours from red to blue. “The finishing touches on a masterpiece of galactic creation.”

“So many new stars…” Charon was gazing wide-eyed at the display, her sight catching on every new glow.

“Hahaha, staaarsss.” Ceres giggled at her side, reaching out to the screen as if to touch it.

“I can’t even comprehend how many planets that must have formed from that, let alone how many moons!” Makemake grinned with an awed glint to his eyes. 

“I’m starting to see why most stars are binary ones.” Eris muttered in a monotone. “They’d run out of room otherwise. I can’t see how so many, all being born in a similar location, would avoid getting locked together.”

“Doesn’t that just mean our star is lucky? Or unlucky? Depends how you spin it, I guess.” Triton added on with a pondering tone. 

“Definitely lucky.” Haumea shivered in reply, “I don’t wanna end up as a rogue planet!”

“The poet John Donne famously wrote, ‘No man is an island entire of itself, every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main’, by which he meant that no human being can isolate themselves from the rest of humanity because our origins and our fates are so deeply intertwined, and therefore we must care deeply for each other.”

“That’s a nice sentiment.” Dione muttered doubtfully. “But did the Earthlings actually listen to him?”

“I think they did. At least, some of them have.” Earth replied to the moon, gazing at the screen thoughtfully. “They’ve done some of their best work when they get together and take responsibility for something bigger than just one individual. They even healed my ozone layer!”

“They broke your ozone layer to begin with?” Titan sounded caught off guard, his expression turning anxious. “That’s a thing they can do?”

“Yeah, but it was an accident, and they fixed it. So no harm done!” The living planet infused the words with a light tone, grinning at the worried moon disarmingly.

“And the same is true for galaxies.” Brian was walking up a slope of green. “No galaxy is an island entire of itself, and the history of the Milky Way stretches back 13 billion years or more.” 

“But we can’t communicate with other galaxies? We can’t even communicate with other star systems!” Sol exclaimed at the Earthling’s statement. 

“We don’t have to be able to communicate to be impacted by each other!” Charon boldly spoke up, surprising Planet X with her willingness to speak to the star. “I mean, we've already seen how important those collisions were in growing our galaxy!”

“I suppose…but it still feels too distant to really worry about.” The Sun concluded to himself. “None of it is going to affect us now.”

“That’s pretty much for the entire history of the Universe, and its story is a story of collisions and interactions between galaxies of rivers and flows and streams of stars stirring up the void and triggering the formation of worlds like ours.” He turned to the camera to finish his statement. “You, me, everyone can trace our origins back to a collision between galaxies.”

“It is certainly humbling to think about.” Jupiter mused aloud, Saturn still sitting at his side. Planet X couldn’t help the sneer that trickled onto his face at the sight. So comfortable. So unbothered.

When Jupiter had emerged from the darkness of his old outer orbit, X’s initial reaction had been outrage. How dare this planet seek him out, spewing sentimental talk of reintroduction and reconciliation! His first thought had been to attack him, send every stray asteroid that had bombarded him in this orbit back to the planet who put him there. It wouldn’t have done anything, not really, but it would've felt cathartic. 

But, despite his harsh orbit, his sense had not left him entirely. He knew a prime opportunity when he saw one. He’d quickly played the part of an unsure, but willing participant in Jupiter’s little idealist plan. Simply nodded when he was sentenced to an orbit even further out than Neptune, the known space-mad planet, and had no argument when the Sun had sent him away with barely a ‘sorry’. And, once he found himself sitting in total darkness again, he’d re-opened his old plans and got to work, trying to reorganise a new one from the scraps. The new pieces this free invite into the system had granted him were not unimportant either. I will have my revenge, and I will even be so merciful as to grant the revenge of others as I go. 

“You may be small, but you are a consequence of grand events.” The camera swept through the hills, a light mist clouding the tops of the trees.

The wide-eyed stares from the various moon groups caught Planet X’s attention. His last spot of spying had given him a bare-bones understanding of the ‘Moon Revolution’, as they called it; but after careful probing of Caelus, it had become obvious that very few planets knew of it. On a basic level, he could understand their discontent with the way of things. Being so small in a system of so many large planets would wear anyone down over billions of years. The real question was, how could X use it? Could the revolution be sparked again? Or could his knowledge of it serve as blackmail? 

“And those grand events haven’t stopped.” Brian was now standing high on the hill, overlooking a mist-covered lake. “It just feels like it because we don’t perceive events that play out over billions of years involving billions of stars.”

“I never thought I’d relate more to an Earthling point-of-view compared to a galaxy’s.” Caelus muttered in a disconcerted voice, eyeing the screen carefully. “Even our long life-spans are barely a blip to the Milky Way.”

“I wonder if we’ll be around to see the next events?” Oberon questioned with barely contained curiosity. “Like those planets from Kepler-444, who saw that collision!”

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Miranda kept her voice neutral, but X caught the doubtful look in her eyes.

“But the unique thing about this time in history is that we can speak with some confidence, not only about our galaxy’s past, but also about our galaxy’s future.” Brian revealed with a smile. “And just as inexorably as those great islands of stars drift through the Universe, change will come again.”

“It seems like there will be something to see!” Ariel cried to Oberon with a grin, twisting in her seat to glance at him. “The Earthlings can see the future!”

“I don’t think they’re actually looking into the future, Ariel.” Caelus corrected with a tired voice, frowning at the very idea. “It’s just maths.”

“Same difference!” She continued to insist, grinning up at her planet. “You only doubt it because you don’t like maths!”

“I-I like maths…I just-” Caelus struggled to refute the statement, pointedly ignoring the triumphant smirk on his moon’s face. “It’s just a bit…frustrating sometimes.”

“Is that why you threw that maths book into the outer Solar System?” Miranda joined in with a laugh. The pale ice giant was getting increasingly flustered, but a small smile was fighting its way onto his face.

“Guys, leave Uranus alone. We have a documentary to get through.” Titania’s voice cut through the teasing, quieting the other moons instantly. Caelus’ face dropped back into his usual frown at the sound of his old name.

“Actually, it’s Caelus now.” He informed the moons, his gaze locked with Titania’s intense one. Her eyes searched his for a moment, before nodding to her planet. 

“Caelus.” She repeated, testing the sound. She seemed uncertain for a breath, then smiled politely at her planet. “Nice. I’m glad you found one you like.”

As the rest of Caelus’ moons began trying out the new name or asking him questions about it, Planet X caught the largest moon staring right at him. Titania’s gaze was focused, interrogating him for something he couldn’t place, and all X could offer back was a smirk. Well, she might be an issue in the future, but not one I need to worry about right now.

“We move into the future with a new understanding of our place in the galaxy.” The camera floated through an Earthling city at night, the little lights glowing on every surface. “We are inhabitants of a small planet, orbiting around an ordinary star, where something extraordinary has happened.”

“Small?”

“ORDINARY?” The Sun seethed at the perceived insult, hissing at the screen. “I AM NO ORDINARY STAR! I AM YOUR SUN, WORTHLESS MORTAL!”

Ignoring the star’s outrage, Planet X peered at the blinking lights of the Earthling city. They could almost be mistaken for stars, from a distance. He wondered if those lights were visible on the planet himself, in his physical form. That would require me getting uncomfortably close to the Golden Boy of the Solar System. I doubt even Jupiter would overlook that, despite his surface-level desire to see me integrated.

“But although the galaxy made us, it wasn’t made FOR us.” Brian insisted. “We are accidental by-products of its history. And we will be passive witnesses to its ongoing evolution.”

“I thought these Earthlings considered themselves the Universe's gift to all celestials, with the way they go on.” Venus criticized, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “And now they call themselves accidents?”

“It is understandable that they have an ever-changing view of themselves, being so alone in the galaxy as far as we know.” Jupiter pondered, his calm voice simmering down the angry expressions brewing on both Venus and the living planet. “In any case, we can relate to their feelings, given our own uncertain and mixed history. So many planets, moons, and dwarf planets would not exist if not for chance events.”

The idea did not disturb Planet X as much as he’d expected. Regardless of how low the chances were for his formation, it happened. Though, in his case, he could not call all his history ‘accidental chance’. While his formation was likely not deliberate on the Sun’s part, unlike the rocky planet, his expulsion was anything but an accident. 

“The Milky Way is the great survivor, and the echoes of its turbulent history are literally written across the sky.” Brian was standing on a platform, looking down at the camera. “Over there, in the southwest, the remnants of Sagittarius Dwarf, the debris from that collision is still wandering around somewhere on the fringes of the Milky Way.”

“I’ll have to look out for that, once we return to orbit.” Iapetus noted, “Though I don’t know how visible it will be from even Saturn’s orbit.”

“Maybe you can ask Earth for a telescope, like those Earthlings have?” Phoebe suggested helpfully, but her suggestion was only met by a hum of acknowledgment.

“Well, the first barrier would be finding one big enough for a moon.” Hyperion commented critically, eyeing the Earthling on screen thoughtfully. “He can’t be more than 2 metres tall, so that telescope is tiny.”

“What about the space ones?” Tethys piped up from his lying position at the front of the moon huddle. “How big are those? We could steal-” He cut himself off with an apologetic glance at the Earth, “We could borrow one?”

“Well, the biggest one at the moment only just went up, so I doubt they’d let you ‘borrow’ it.” Luna informed the other moons. “And James Webb is only 6.5 metres in diameter anyway, so I doubt a 1,469 km moon would be able to use it.”

“Darn. Well, back to the drawing board I guess.”

“And in that direction, as Sirius rises in the east in the constellation of Canis Major, there are the remains of another dwarf galaxy that we think collided with us long ago.” The Earthling pointed to the sky. 

“Wow! How many galaxies has ours swallowed?” Phobos turned his question to his planet, but the red planet was not paying attention, his gaze lost in thought.

“Hm? What was that, Phobos?” Mars snapped back after the little moon pinched his knee. Phobos leaned towards his planet’s face, peering at him searchingly. 

“Why aren’t you watching properly? You told me and Deimos off for distracting you, but now you’re doing it to yourself!” The small moon interrogated his planet with a tone of annoyance. The whiney voice made Planet X all the gladder he was never cursed with moons.

“It’s nothing, Phobos. I’ll pay attention from now on, OK?” The red planet tried a compromise, but from the doubtful looks shot his way from both moons, he wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. And, as Planet X watched, Mars’ gaze inevitably wandered back to the living planet and his moon. Ugh, I’m not even going to try with those three. Clearly, Venus or Mercury will be my best bets.

“So the Milky Way pretty much devours anything that comes into this region of space because it’s the largest galaxy in the neighbourhood, except for one.” Brian walked backwards, disappearing from view as the camera changed to sweep over the city lights again.

“Ominous.” Planet X commented dryly, watching the Earthling back away from the drop and disappear from the screen. 

At his side, Uranus was scribbling what initially looked like a mess, but was quickly revealing itself to be a galaxy. Huge, stretching across the entire page and overflowing at the ends, it was now being approached by a dark shape, undefined and threatening. 

“The local group is home to another galaxy that rivals our own in size.” The camera hovered over the top of one of the buildings, revealing Brian standing there with a contraption. “The galaxy that’s been hiding in plain sight.”

“Another big galaxy?” Saturn worried his nails against his teeth, trying to hide the gesture as Jupiter turned to him. “Is it going to hurt our galaxy?”

“I doubt it, my friend.” Jupiter assured him with a soft smile. “All the previous collisions did nothing to our galaxy.”

“But this one is bigger.” Ganymede joined in, ignoring the mild refute in his planet’s gaze. “So, it could do anything. Like, completely destroy our entire galaxy! Or nothing at all?”

“Right up there,” Brian pointed up at the sky. “Just between the constellations of Cassiopeia and the square of Pegasus, is a faint misty patch of light in the sky, about twice the diameter of a full moon, so you can certainly see it with binoculars. And even in the city, I can take a photograph of it with a camera like this.”

“Oh, I know what they’re talking about now!” Earth crowed in triumph. “Those names basically give it away, honestly.”

“Which names? What are you going on about?” Venus questioned in an irritated voice. The Earth hesitated for a second before replying, but his urge to spew useless Earthling facts clearly overruled any reservations he held about talking to the cloudy planet. Planet X had to suppress a smirk of amusement at the look on Mars’ face.

“Cassiopeia is the mother of the galaxy’s namesake, in Greek myth. And Pegasus was born during the same myth, or at least freed by the same hero who rescued her.” Earth clarified, though the blank looks from the room suggested no one was following. “You know! Perseus? Greek hero. Slayer of Medusa?”

“Slayer of what?” Saturn blinked dully.

“Nevermind! What matters is, Perseus killed a monster, which caused Pegasus to exist, and then he went and saved Andromeda from a sea monster Poseidon sent to eat her.” This didn’t make a whole lot more sense to X, but he nodded politely with the rest of the room anyway.

“Why did Poseidon want Andromeda to get eaten?” Neptune questioned with an odd frown. “I wouldn’t want anyone to get eaten!”

“Um, I think her mother, Cassiopeia, insulted him by suggesting she was more beautiful than the Nereids?” Earth recalled with a thoughtful frown. “A lot of the myths have us doing really petty things though, so it’s not that unusual of a motivation.”

“Well, if she insulted me then she should get eaten!” One of Neptune’s moons, Nereid probably, pushed her way forward with a mock-outraged expression.

“Do you even know what being ‘eaten’ means?” Miranda asked doubtfully, “I don’t think it’s something the Earthling would survive.”

“Oh…” The little moon looked thoughtful for a minute, before nodding to herself with a childish grin. “Nope! Still a fitting punishment for insulting me!”

“And there it is!” He pointed at a small smudge on a screen. “That object is the Andromeda Galaxy. And you see that it’s a spiral shape. You can see it even in this photograph. In many ways, Andromeda is our twin.”

“Oh look, you were right, what a surprise.” Uranus’ monotone mocking voice only received a light-hearted eye-roll from the living world.

“S-so this A-andromeda g-galaxy is v-very similar t-to ours? In s-size and shape, a-at least?” Io asked of his planet. Jupiter hummed in thought.

“And in other ways, I imagine. Let’s keep watching, shall we?” He encouraged the moon to refocus on the screen as the Earthling kept talking.

“And it’s a twin that we’ve been able to explore in incredible detail.” Another rocket launch began, Earthling radio chatter filling their ears. ‘Hubble Space Telescope’ appeared in the corner once again.

“Yay! Hubble’s back!” 

“I think I’ve completely lost count of how many rocket launches we’ve had to watch.” Caelus muttered lowly to the two ice giants beside him.

“The Hubble Space Telescope is in its fourth decade of operation.” The telescope was floating just above the atmosphere of its planet. “Its ongoing mission has given us some of the most detailed images of the Universe ever seen.”

“How have they kept it going for so long?” Makemake asked aloud, his question aimed at the living world and his moon. “Those other probes never seemed to last that long.”

“Oh, they’ve gone up and fixed it a few times, actually!” Luna grinned at the memory, “I watched a few of them. The little Earthlings hang on to it and repair or upgrade it!”

“Yep, and when they first sent it up, they had to repair it almost immediately ‘cause the pictures were coming back blurry.” The Earth added. “So they put a new lens over it to correct it! Like a pair of glasses!”

“Over the years, Hubble has frequently turned its attention to Andromeda, 2.5 million years from the Earth.” Faint images of the other galaxy filled the screen. “It’s mapped a spiral structure similar to that of the Milky Way, with such fine precision that we’ve been able to calculate not only the motion of Andromeda stars, but also the motion of the galaxy itself.”

“It looks so similar to ours!” Proteus pointed out, teetering on the edge of the bean bag. While his fellow moons copied him, all pushing towards the edge to get a better view, Planet X idly thought it looked like he would fall.

Involuntarily, he can only assume, X found his arm in the way of the moon’s meeting with the ground. He was stretched across a flustered-looking Caelus, who had lifted his notepad up out of the way. Neptune appeared just as startled as Caelus, and quickly scooped Proteus and a few of the other moons close to the centre of his seat. Proteus didn’t put up a fight about it, but he did turn a wide grin X’s way.

“Thank you, Mister X!”

Snapping back to himself, X lurched back to his own seat, carefully removing all contact with any other celestial. He stubbornly ignored the gaze of Caelus and his own beating core.

“And we now know that the entire galaxy is heading towards us at over 400,000 kilometres per hour.” 

“He says that so casually.” Mercury’s anxious stare was fixed on the galaxy now, worrying the thread of his bean bag.

“Aw, that’s nothing! I’m going 828,000 km/hr!” The Sun grinned at his smallest planet. “We can outrun it, easy!”

“Not if it’s going to hit the very thing you’re moving around.” Mars pointed out. “If we ran away from the galaxy, we’d probably slow down significantly.”

“Surprisingly we might not, actually.” Sol informed the red planet. “The outer stars are going at basically the same speed as me and the centre stars! I don’t know why that is, though?”

“Um, I think the Earthlings reckon it’s dark matter.” Earth reluctantly piped up. “But they say that about everything they don’t understand about space, so who knows?”

“Now, you may think, well, what’s one more collision?” Brian was back on the screen. “I mean, the Milky Way has survived all these collisions for pretty much the entire history of the Universe.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought ‘what’s one more collision?’” Caelus sneered at the callus statement. Planet X had been meaning to broach the topic of the pale ice giant’s odd rotational axis and spin, but he’d never found a delicate time to ask. He could make assumptions, though, and very few things could cause such an effect outside of a collision.

“Well, this one will be different because Andromeda is bigger than us.”

“Will it not survive? Or just get so mixed with the other one that we can’t really call it the Milky Way anymore?” Pluto speculated, his moon shaking her head in anxious movements at his side. 

“What percentage of an original galaxy needs to remain to still call it the same galaxy?” Triton offered with an equally confused expression. 

“Ah, a classic Ship of Theseus paradox.” Makemake nodded to himself, only to be met by confused looks from his fellow dwarf planets.

“What is a Theseus? And what is a Ship?” Charon tilted her head at the strange words.

“You know what, I don’t even know!” Makemake grinned, shrugging his shoulders casually. “I think I heard it somewhere once, but I don’t recall where?”

“The Milky Way, as we know it today, will not be immortal.” The screen zoomed out from the Earthling to show the galaxy again. “And the Earth will witness its demise.”

“Once again, are the rest of us just not important enough to mention?” Venus sneered at the screen. 

“I’m sure it was not meant to sound that way.” Jupiter chided the cloudy planet. “We know this is from the Earthlings’ perspective, and they have only ever lived on one planet. It is understandable that Earth is their frame of reference.”

“Whatever.” Venus dismissed with a scowl. “I get it. In the Earthlings’ eyes, nothing is more important than habitability. Pathetic.”

He is certainly angry enough for my plan, Planet X thoughtfully considered the cloudy planet, and this issue of habitability feels like a sore spot ripe for the poking. 

‘4.5 billion years in the future’ appeared over a scorched, red surface of a rocky planet. “Two galaxies in a single sky, gradually, but inexorably, merging into one.”

“Damn, is that supposed to be Earth’s surface?” Europa eyed the red surface doubtfully. “It’s looking a little rough.”

“Depending on how far into the future this event is, it may be an accurate prediction.” Callisto noted with a careful glance at the Earth’s moon. Luna was not watching the barren representation of his planet’s surface. Instead, he was pressing his face into the living world’s side, while his planet wrapped an arm around his shoulder. 

“In the impact, there will be a last, colossal burst of star formation.” The screen lit the room as an explosion of light filled their sights. “But this will be very different to previous collisions. This time, our galaxy will meet its match.”

“...At least there will be new stars?” Saturn ventured, his voice quiet and subdued. 

The room was smothered in a soft silence as the celestials watched the two vast collections of stars colliding, mixing and merging until the sky was splattered with stars in new, twisted patterns. Even as detached from the rest as he often felt, Planet X could not deny a twinge of grief at the predicted future of the galaxy. To one day no longer be able to look out and see that familiar arc of light wrapping around them. 

“The great galaxies will distort each of the spiral arms,” The sky was scattered with stars, the usual Milky Way arc mixed with a new mess of light. “Stars will be scattered, until no traces of the original structure remain.”

“Will it reform? Into spirals, at least?” Mercury asked the silence of the room, but no one held an answer for him. 

“I hope it will, Mercury.” Jupiter mused, his eyes conflicted as he gazed on the mixed mess of their home galaxy. “But we do not know, unfortunately.”

“The Milky Way’s fate is sealed. Andromeda will be the first of a series of mergers as the remaining galaxies in our local group converge, drawn together by gravity.” 

“MORE galaxies are going to hit us?” The Sun exclaimed at the statement, glaring at the screen. “How long is that going to take? I doubt I’ll be around to see all of it. It can’t all be happening in the next 5 billion years!”

“Oh good, that means I don’t have to see all of it either.” Venus rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat to stare at the ceiling. 

“But Hubble has allowed us to see even further into the future.” The telescope was on screen again, floating in space. “It’s looked out far beyond the local group towards the edge of the observable Universe, and seen that every distant galaxy is receding from us.”

“Wait! Everything else is going away? It’s just the local group that’ll get closer?” Earth’s nervous voice echoed in the quiet room. 

“What’ll happen once every galaxy in the group has collided?” Luna asked, turning his eyes to Jupiter and Sol for an answer. Unfortunately, neither seemed prepared to grant one. 

“In a final twist, these retreating galaxies tell us something profound about the nature of the Universe itself.” In the dark, the Earthling was on a water vehicle again. “We live in an expanding Universe.”

“I guess that makes sense…if a big bang made it all?” Titan sounded doubtful of his own conclusion, but no one in the room offered a better one. 

“How big is it going to get?” Enceladus asked, “If it’s constantly expanding, where is it expanding into?”

“I fear these are not questions we are equipped to answer.” Iapetus concluded with a reluctant expression. 

“In fact, we live in a Universe that’s accelerating in its expansion, so all the galaxies are rushing away from each other, and in the far future, they’ll be rushing away from each other so fast that even if we sent a beam of light out to the galaxies, it would never catch them.”

“OK, that makes even less sense.” Ganymede spoke up indignantly. “Why is it accelerating? What is causing that?”

“Again, I don’t believe we have the means to find out.” Jupiter echoed, his brows drawing together. “Maybe the Earthlings will have an answer, someday?”

“Billions of years from now, the remnants of the Milky Way will form part of a single, gigantic collection of stars, the merged remains of the local group, alone as every other galaxy recedes into the distance.” The massive galaxy filling the screen was surrounded by a painful emptiness.

“That sounds so lonely.” Oberon sighed as the screen kept zooming out to reveal only more darkness. “Caelus, will we still be orbiting you, when that happens?”

“Aw, mate, I don’t know.” Caelus admitted reluctantly, also eyeing the growing darkness with trepidation. “I’d hope so.”

“Caelus?” Neptune’s questioning tone drew Planet X’s attention to the blue ice giant’s expression. Caelus froze momentarily, caught off guard and unprepared.

“Yeah, mate, it’s my new name!” He turned an excited, upbeat smile to his friend, loud enough to be heard around the room. This drew the gazes of all the celestials present. “X helped me pick it out! Do you like it?”

“I-” Neptune’s face flickered imperceptibly through a series of emotions X could not pin-point, but it settled on a calm, pleased smile. “If you like, I like it!”

As Caelus grinned back with excitement, Planet X let his gaze wander the room. Most reactions ranged from mild interest to polite acknowledgement, but a few in particular stood out. Venus was notably focused, eyes narrowed but glazed over in thought, while Jupiter looked positively thrilled. Sol was keeping his face neutral, but the lack of steam rising from his form gave X some hope that he hadn’t managed to piss the star off any further.

“Eventually, all the galaxies will fade from view, and our galaxy will stand at last in perfect isolation.” The darkness seemed to expand as the galaxy shrank further away. The music cut out as the screen snapped to black. “An island unto itself.”

“Um, that was unnecessarily ominous.” Eris commented warily, “Thanks, Brian.”

“It certainly captured the feeling behind the idea.” Pluto noted, “A single galaxy, alone forever until every star burns out.”

“Y-you’re not h-helping.” Haumea stammered, his form shaking slightly at the sight of the dark screen.

“I think we live at a fortunate time in the history of the Universe,” Brian was back, talking to the screen as he finished the episode. “Because we can look into the sky and see the galaxies. The astronomers of the far future might imagine that they live in a Universe populated by countless billions of islands of billions of stars, but they won’t be able to prove it.”

“Damn, that’s going to suck for them, I guess.” Triton mumbled, turning his covered eyes to the living planet. “How many Earthlings are even going to be around by then?”

“Um, probably not a lot, considering I’ll definitely be uninhabitable at that point.” Earth reluctantly answered the moon, “Maybe if they found a new planet? But even our star will be gone by then, so they definitely won’t be in our system anymore.”

“They won’t be able to see the true scale and majesty of the Universe.” The last shot lingered on the city of light, the arc of the Milky Way hanging above the surface of Earth.

“That’s the end?” Caelus’ face was obscured in the darkness following the end of the episode, but soon the lights came on to signal the beginning of another gap. Planet X blinked at the sudden brightness, rubbing one eye that refused to refocus.

The rest of the room was clearly very used to this by now, and had already begun to split off into groups. The moons were coalescing in one corner, just beyond the rocky planets, while the rockies themselves were scattering themselves haphazardly. X had already lost track of Mars, and was quickly finding it hard to keep an eye on the rest. I need to use this break wisely.

“Who are you looking for?” Caelus’ sudden intrusion into his silence almost caused him to startle. The pale ice giant was studying him quizzically.

“Ah, no one is particular, Caelus.” Planet X smirked, enjoying the grin that spread over Caelus’ face at his name. “I’m merely considering our next move. Now that you have a new name, we need to get you a new orbit.”

“Wait, you were being serious?” Caelus’ surprise wasn’t a great sign for his commitment, but X could not afford to keep slowing everything down for this ice giant. “We could actually get new orbits?”

“Of course! If we have a strong enough argument to bring to the Sun, he cannot deny us.” X grinned at the very thought of the star’s face when he’d challenge him, supported by half his own Solar System. “But to reach that end, we need more allies. Other discontent, mistreated, or overlooked celestial who will help us.”

“Oh.” Caelus thought for a moment, before his expression brightened into an excited smile. “I know! Neptune would be perfect! He’s got such an awful orbit, I bet he’d love a chance to change it! I’ll go ask him!”

“Uh, wait a moment, Caelus.” The pale ice giant focused back on him, grin falling slightly. “We will need to be sure of his commitment before revealing our whole plan to him. Please, my friend, approach this carefully?”

“Ah, of course, as you said!” Caelus nodded in a rush. “Super careful. I’ll broach the subject delicately .”

“Well, while you’re doing that, I’ll throw a few lines into that moon club they have.” Planet X indicated to the crowd of moons huddled in their corner. “I suspect more than a few of them are discontent.”

“Um, true, I suppose.” Caelus frowned thoughtfully at the gathering. “My moons don’t like talking to me about that club, so I have zero idea what it’s actually about, honestly.” 

A silence lingered between them, but wasn’t left to sit longer than half-a-minute before Caelus turned back to X with a grin. “Well, good luck then! I’m going to see what Neptune thinks of this!”

As the pale ice giant departed, following the deep blue planet to his location over by the dwarf planets, Planet X headed towards the moon club. His anxiousness to get more celestials on his side was stinging his core, and that useless conversation with Caelus hadn’t helped. I seriously doubt anything he says will convince Neptune, and knowing my luck he’ll inadvertently reveal everything to some nosy lump of rock.

Lost in his thoughts, Planet X failed to register the blockage in his path until he was almost on top of it. Freezing, he looked down.

“Oi! Watch where you’re walking, icicle.” The angry rocky planet hissed, glaring up at X.

“Icicle?” X inquired, trying to sound calm and friendly. This was at least one planet he wanted to talk to. Venus may be small, but his fire was far more prevalent than in the other planets.

“Yeah, you. Big cold blob.” Venus continued to scrap together an insult, but X was hardly going to react to it. No, he needed to find a way to connect with this planet. Find an angle he could offer.

“I was under the impression icicles were long and slender, not blobs.” He joked, flashing his tried and true grin. However, the desired effect was not making itself known.

“I don’t care! Just don’t crash into me like I’m not even here!” Venus hissed, muttering under his breath. “That’s the last thing I need right now, to get stepped on by a crazy ice giant.”

“I assure you, I had no intention of stepping on you.” Planet X tried to calm the cloudy world down. When no immediate fury was directed his way again, he looked past the planet to see the empty seats of the rockies. “Where are the rest of the inner planets? None of them seem to be here?”

“Oh, that’s just ‘cause Earth’s tantrum earlier means Mars has to go begging after him again, I guess.” The planet rolled his eyes bitterly. “And I don’t even know where Pipsqueak went. Probably to go bother the Sun or something.”

“I see. So, you are not joining them?” He inquired carefully.

“Nah, I’m not following that tiny planet around, and I’m definitely not chasing after the muddy rock.” Venus dismissed. “Whatever they’re fighting about has nothing to do with me. I never got told anything about why she wanted Life, so he can stop asking me. And I’m definitely not getting involved in Earth’s drama again.”

“Oh, this is about Life?” Planet X could feel a thread there, one he could pull back towards Venus’ lack of habitability. “I heard that a few of you rockies have had it before?”

“Nope! Not me, and I doubt that rusty dustball ever had anything either.” The cloudy planet denied, but the venom behind his words let X know he’d hit a soft spot.

“Did you want Life? It seems quite grand, but an ice giant like myself can never hope to sustain it. It’s a pity.”

“Agh, don’t make it sound like such a great thing.” Venus waved his words off, but the tone was softer, friendlier, if still a little harsh. “It’s not all that, even Earth would tell you that.”

“Well, everything has a downside.” Planet X conceded. “I imagine it is still worth it, however strenuous.”

“Yeah, probably. I wouldn’t know, being the hottest planet in the system, you know?” Venus mocked himself, turning a self conscious gesture into a head scratch. X’s eyes missed nothing.

“That’s a pity as well. You have such a lovely atmosphere, I’m sure it would be ideal for Life, if you weren’t so close to the Sun?”

“...I suppose?” Venus shot a confused, searching look at the ice giant. “Not really something to get hung up on, though.”

“You seem to be just that , though?” Planet X ventured, testing the edges of this planet. “I can tell your anger about this cruel twist of fate has not faded, not really.”

“Hey, you don’t get to tell me how I feel, icicle.” Venus’ voice was hard again and Planet X quickly cursed his lack of patience. “This wasn't fate, or anything blameless like that, OK? I know what got me here and I’m not snivelling about it. Even if I still wanted Life, it's just not in the cards for me, OK!”

“Of course not, of course not.” Planet X placated the cloudy planet, trying to determine if this was even worth continuing. “I was merely suggesting that you might want another chance at what you couldn’t have? I mean, an orbit change would solve-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, weird ice giant I’ve never met until now.” Venus rudely interrupted. “I’ve already played the orbit switch game with the Earth, and killing 20 billion billion lifeforms is not worth some dead dream of mine.”

“I was only sugg-” 

“Nope, not here you’re not.” Venus cut him off again, and Planet X quickly filled the angry planet into his ‘not worth the effort’ box. “Go peddle that crap somewhere else. I’m not hearing it!”

“Clearly not.” Planet X ground out, and stepping past the cloudy planet, he continued towards his original target. 

Useless conversation after useless conversation, Planet X sneered internally, marching over to the edge of the moon cluster, why do I even bother? Clearly, the rocky planets were a non-starter, if even the angriest amongst them could not be convinced to see the advantages of his plan. As tempting as it was to try the little one, he feared anything he voiced to Mercury would find itself in the ear of the Sun. So, that just leaves me with the moons…great.

He found himself standing awkwardly at the fringes of their group, watching the larger moons take turns speaking about their planets. Most of it was filtered out as useless gossip, but X’s focus finally zeroed in on Ganymede's words as he spoke.

“It’s like he’s trying to work something out, but I can’t tell what!” Ganymede ranted to the moon group. “It started after the last break, and all I can think is that the Sun must have done something!”

“Isn’t that a bit of an overreaction?” Titan suggested carefully, earning a glare from the largest moon. “No offence, but we don’t know what happened. To pin the blame on the Sun without proof-”

“Well, given the past actions of the Sun, I’m quite happy to pin the blame on him.” Europa interrupted with a sneer. “He’s always playing around with the planets, and us by proxy.”

The Saturnin moon seemed to find no answer to this and as Planet X watched, the moons began to exchange uncomfortable glances. What he’d just overheard at least gave him a good starting point, a way to get his chosen targets’ attention. 

“You heard Europa, this was definitely the Sun’s fault-” Ganymede began to speak again, only to silence at a nudge from Io. The volcanic moon was staring right at X, who had unconsciously begun to lean forward to catch their words. Ganymede’s eyes narrowed as he followed Io’s gaze. “What are you doing here, planet? This is a moon-only group!”

“I was merely in the area and happened to hear a few of your words.” The whole collection of moons seemed to stiffen at those words and X fought the grin off his face. “I must say, I’m intrigued by them. Would I be able to speak with a few of you, alone?”

While he wasn’t completely against talking to the whole club, he was wary of the more loyal/stupid moons spewing everything to their planets, which would in turn run the risk of a leak reaching the Sun. His request seemed to stir an anxious curiosity through the group, with some moons excitedly nudging others, while the rest eyed him suspiciously.

“Who?” It was Iapetus, boldly facing him with a careful stare, his body tense.

“Oh, only a handful, I assure you.” Planet X let a smile cover his face. “I have heard a lot about all of you, and I’d like the opportunity to speak with you, Ganymede. And Europa as well, of course.”

The moons exchanged wary glances, and the two unmentioned Galilean moons were already shaking their heads. Ganymede, however, looked curious.

“And not just you two. Dione and Enceladus are welcome to join, as well as any others who wish to speak to me.” Planet X continued his offer, casting his eyes over the group. 

The two he’d named were already getting up to follow Ganymede and Europa, who began leading the way out of the huddle. Satisfied, X turned and led them to an abandoned bean bag. 

“Well. What do you want?” Ganymede began harshly, his arms folded defensively in front of him. Planet X let his smile relax, trying to soften any mood of tension he might be projecting. 

“It’s nothing really, just an offer.” He explained, carefully keeping track of the four moons before him. Enceladus was curious but nervous, constantly eyeing the other moons for a hint of how to react. Dione was stone-faced, arms folded similar to Ganymede, but with less obvious fire in her eyes. Europa, however, was alight with suspension, her gaze almost warming his cold surface from the intensity alone.

“I have heard of your little idea .” He emphasized the word, enjoying the way Ganymede’s eyes shuttered. “‘A Solar System where moons are seen as equals’, how idealistic. But, I also heard a bit about your last attempt at it. It did not go so well?”

“None of your business.” The words were not loud, but the expression on his face may have made a lesser planet cower. Luckily, Planet X was no lesser planet, barrelling on despite it. He had them now; he’d shown his ace, his perfect weapon should they cross him.

“Maybe not. But, I do think my business can offer you something.” X let his voice roll on, unravelling a few hooks to catch them with. “You are dissatisfied with the way things are? With the way the Sun has arranged things? You want to make a change? A big one? I may have a plan for you.”

The four moons passed looks between each other, silently arguing about Planet X’s words. The quiet stretched for a breath before it was abruptly broken.

“OH! Is it like the revolution?” Proteus, bouncing from his hiding place behind Europa, suddenly exclaimed. “That was so FUN! We got to meet so many new friends and travel so far! The Earth almost got destroyed!”

“Ah, Proteus.” Planet X smiled awkwardly at the little moon, subtly trying to see if any of the other tiny celestials had followed him. “Why are you not back with the rest of the moons? I’m sure that major moon of yours is looking for you.”

“What, Triton? Probably, but I wanted an adventure! And you said any moon was welcome to follow you!” Proteus brushed off X’s words, grinning up at the ice giant. “I wanna join your plan! It sounds so exciting!”

“Proteus, this isn’t what you think it is.” Europa tried, reaching out an arm to pull the smaller moon closer, away from X. “The Moon Revolution only ended as calmly as it did because the planets never told the Sun.” She eyed X as she spoke, letting him know just how aware she was of his hold over them.

“Oh, don’t worry about all that. If my plan should fail, it would do so long before your hand in it is revealed.” He placated them with a smile. “And, should it succeed? Well, you’d find yourselves in a very powerful position for making those changes you long for.”

“And if we say no?” Dione spoke up, her glare finally showing more than a passive interest. “Will we find ourselves as your enemies?”

“Of course not, Dione, I would never blame moons who are not dedicated enough to join my cause. Some of us want to fight for our futures…and others don’t. That is not their fault.” Planet X played his faux-sincere voice, hoping to at least fool Proteus. Dione had heard him loud and clear, however.

“I’m in.” Enceladus’ voice drew X’s attention back to the whole group. The icy moon held a determined expression, his eyes burning hard to hide the nervousness twisting around his body. 

“Wonderful!” X grinned at the Saturnin moon. Take that, Saturn.

“We’re also in.” Ganymede ground out through a stiff jaw, glaring at the floor in front of them. At his side, Europa was gently trying to persuade Proteus back to his moon group.

“Welcome to the team, Ganymede and Europa.” Planet X could almost feel the glare the last moon was directing at him. “What about you, Dione? Any thoughts?”

“Nothing you’d want to hear, I’m sure.” She hissed, tossing her glare at Enceladus. “Are you seriously going along with this?”

“He might be able to finally make real change!” The icy moon argued, upset crawling into his voice. Dione’s eyes only burned hotter.

“We were making real change! All of us!” She snapped. “Putting your lot in with a random ice giant won’t get you what you want, Enceladus.”

“We’ll see.” X interrupted. “He’s made his choice. What is yours?”

“NO! A thousand times, no!” Dione snarled, turning away from her fellow moons. “Have fun with this madness, I’m going back to our real mission!”

As the angry moon marched away, Enceladus’ gaze followed her regretfully, watching until she was settled back amongst the moon club. I’ll have to keep an eye on him. He clearly has a weakness, and I can’t afford any traitors.

“So, what is this plan of yours?” Ganymede reluctantly broke the silence. Planet X turned to him with a wide grin. At his side, Europa was still trying to push Proteus back towards the moon club, but the stubborn little moon was holding his ground. It would be inconvenient to have him as a tag-along, but he certainly had the potential to be useful in other ways. 

“As inspirational as your ‘Moon Revolution’ was, it was far too small.” Planet X began, “I’m aiming higher, a ‘Planet Revolution’ or perhaps a ‘Solar System Revolution’?”

Ganymede’s expression furrowed, searching his own for some trap hiding behind his words. Europa had eyes only for the little moon, her hand clutching his to prevent him from getting any closer. Enceladus was studying him, his interest growing with every word.

“For too long, the star had dictated our lives. He decides every aspect of your planet’s orbits, every movement.” He implored, leaning forward slightly. “He’s played games with it, messing with them, and you in turn. What I propose will change all of that.”

“How?” Proteus asked excitedly, “My planet’s orbit is real dark and scary sometimes, and I really want him to get a new one! I liked that time in Jupiter’s orbit! It was fun!”

“That is precisely what I mean, Proteus. You have the mind of a revolutionary.” Planet X praised, drawing an even wider smile from the little moon. “We will force the Sun to change the orbits. We will force the Sun to re-write the hierarchy of this system.”

“But how? You’re talking about a handful of moons and one planet against the entire Sun!” Europa exclaimed in disbelief. “We’ll only have to get too close before we’re burnt to a rebellious crisp.”

“It won’t be just us. I already have the promise of Caelus’ support, and possibly a few other planets.” That lie may come back to bite him, but it would be worth it should it convince these moons of a stronger backing. “You must remember, the Sun wants us around, he will be forced to compromise if the majority of us protest.”

“I don’t know…it doesn’t sound like it will work?” Ganymede frowned doubtfully, sparking frustration in X. 

“I have been working on this plan since my expulsion. 4 billion years.” He breathed, trying to maintain a cold air. “It will work. I've been waiting far too long for it to fail.”

Chapter Text

Everything felt weird. In a weird room. In a weird situation. And now everyone else was being weird as well. Usually, he was the weird one. Neptune would maybe have preferred to not be in this weirdness right now, but that wasn’t a fun thought, so he pushed it back. Annoyingly, it only went back so far, the opposing force giving him only a little more room to think in.

He hadn’t expected Uranu-Caelus to follow him over while he checked in on Triton. That was the first weird thing. His cousin should have stayed with X. That’s what he’d done the last two times. But, after glancing back, Neptune saw that even X was missing now. Very weird. 

The second weird thing was his shaking. Caelus was excited, but nervously so, which was manifesting in a slight shake to his movements. Sure, the pale ice giant could be quite anxious at times, but that very rarely involved excitement shining in his eyes alongside it. Weird also.

“Hey, Neptune!” Caelus bounded up, grinning, and Neptune could only stare in perplexity. Behind him, he heard Triton muttering to his dwarf planet friends in a low voice. Tuning him out, Neptune grinned back at his excited friend.

“That’s me!” The blue ice giant exclaimed, throwing his confusion away in favour of excitement. Uranu-Caelus is fun to talk to, most of the time!

“Hey, mate, I just wanted to ask you, do you want a new orbit?” The unexpected question caught Neptune off guard and he almost dropped his smile. My orbit? Why is he asking about that?

“Bit out of nowhere. Why do you ask?” Neptune deflected, trying to get a better understanding of what exactly his friend was asking. Questions always seemed to have so many unseen meanings and Neptune had found himself tripped up by more than a few. You think someone’s asking a simple question, then boom, suddenly everyone is upset. I’ve gotta be more careful.

“Oh, I was just wondering. For fun.” Uranus’ terrible attempt at covering his tracks almost made Neptune reluctant to answer. This is definitely a ‘bigger than it looks’ question.

“Wellll, I have no idea!” Neptune decided to offer an honest opinion, and hopefully it would be the right answer, despite him clearly not understanding the situation. “My orbit is my orbit. If I had a different one, it wouldn’t be mine, would it?”

“I mean-” Caelus cut himself off with a frustrated breath, and Neptune felt his mind race at the new information. He doesn’t want me to say stuff like that. He’s definitely looking for a different answer, but what? 

“Mate, don’t you hate your orbit? It’s awful! Right at the edge of the Kuiper belt, and all you ever see are asteroids! You wouldn’t want a better one?” Caelus was certainly far angrier about this than Neptune ever bothered to be. Sure, his orbit was lonely and dark and cold and empty- but it was his orbit. His orbit, like all the planets, was a direct result of his formation. His size, speed, mass, everything, had an impact on where he orbited. To change it would change him, Neptune was pretty sure. I mean, where else would I go? I’m an ice giant, and I’m not even the furthest one out from the Sun anymore.

“What does ‘better’ even mean? Is yours a ‘better’ orbit?” Neptune knew he should tone down the unwanted questions. Uranus never liked them usually, and he probably wouldn’t tolerate them now. “It's all relative, don’t yah think?”

“Uh, not really, mate!” Caelus exclaimed irritation, throwing his hands up in emphasis. “Any orbit closer to the Sun would be a hundred times better than our lousy orbits. There, they at least get to see what’s going on! We never hear about anything until the Sun starts shouting about it!”

“Why do we want to see what’s going on? Stuff goes on everywhere, even in the Kuiper belt! Just last orbit, Guillermo told me-”

“Neptune, can’t you just be serious for once.” Uranus sounded resided, his earlier excitement threatening to fade entirely. Neptune didn’t know how to reply. He thought he was being serious. Maybe Uranus meant a different kind of serious. A serious that ignored arguments like his in favour of lingering on bad stuff. Stuff like the void of darkness he would return to after this fun kidnapping (planet-napping?). Stuff like the way his voice would startle him like an asteroid strike after hundreds of years of silence. Stuff like…well, there’s a reason he didn’t like being serious.

He must have got lost in his head again, because Caelus was giving him that funny look, the one that said ‘I’m waiting for a reply, why are you taking so long?’. It wasn’t the worst look, but it did remind him that staring into someone's face for longer than a few seconds without talking was generally considered rude. And Neptune did not want to be rude to his friend, not when he was finally talking to him again.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Neptune tried to sift back through his memories for the last thing said, but as always the murky mess only returned vague impressions and feelings. Caelus had been annoyed. That wasn’t good. And going by his face now, he’d accidentally made it worse.

“Ugh! Why do I even try!” Caelus hissed, turning to the side and pointing at Planet X, who was talking to a group of moons near the front of the room. “Planet X has a plan! One that could get us better orbits! A better life! Don’t you want that?”

“I-I.” Neptune stuttered, taken aback by the question. Did he want that? A new orbit would be nice, he supposed, but it wouldn’t last. That brief time in Jupiter’s orbit had been great, wonderful even. His mind had been clear, sharp in a way he usually only got to use for brief flashes in his usual orbit, allowing him to do more than ever before. But, that was also why it had gone back. He’d seen the patterns. He had to be in his orbit, it was essential to so many things! Just like Jupiter had to stay in his orbit to prevent those asteroids from hitting the rockies. Just like Terra had to stay in orbit for his Life. It was necessary, not optional. “Wouldn’t that mess everything up a bit? Like it did that one time? When Terra was all cold and white?”

“We’d work something out! X is so smart, he’d probably be able to find us orbits closer to the Sun without even moving anyone else! And you could help! You’re so good at maths, when you’re in a nice orbit!” Caelus implored, his voice infused with conviction. “This will work! I’m not sure of the details yet, but I know X has a plan! You just need to have our backs when we talk to the Sun!”

“Why do I need to watch your back? Do we even have backs? We’re spheres.” Neptune didn’t like the way this was headed. Talking to the Sun could be intimidating, and the few times Neptune had done it weren’t the fondest memories, but it wasn’t something you generally needed a back-guard for. How would talking even work? The Sun might listen, but he always had the last say in the system, regardless of how many planets asked. His orbit mandates were unlikely to be swayed by a few ice giants. This is so confusing. I don’t know what to say. If I agree, I don’t know what I’m even agreeing to? But if I reject it, Caelus will be sad…and that might be worse. Maybe I can find a middle ground?

“It’s just a saying, don’t be pedantic.” Caelus rolled his eyes, his frustration simmering down to a low boil. There, but quiet. “Are you in or not? Planet X wants more planets to join this idea, and it would really help to have you and your moons join! And I’d really like it if you joined!”

Neptune fought down the instinct to frown at the mention of signing his moons up to such a thing. Even if he joined this…idea? He wouldn’t drag his little moons into it. Triton would probably also kick up a fuss if he tried. It was always sweet to see just how attached his oldest was to the others. 

“Can I think about it? And then I can ask my moons!” He tried to sound at least a little bit excited at the idea, but his core was clenching nervously and his wind was picking up in his ears. He’d thought being in a humanoid form would remove the rushing in his ears, but maybe he’d heard it for so long that it was stuck in there forever, no matter what form he takes.

“Yeah, sure mate. I’ll check back in the next break?” At Neptune’s nod, Caelus dashed back to his own bean bag. For a second, Neptune was surprised by the speed of his departure, but then he saw a smirking Planet X was now back in his spot beside Caelus. The pale ice giant bounded up to him with far more energy, excitedly talking despite X’s mild frown. 

“Well, that was weird.” A voice at Neptune’s side startled him out of his staring contest with X’s back. His oldest, Triton, was now sitting beside him, looking up at him with a searching expression.

“Yeah, weird.” Neptune agreed, trying not to frown as the last few moments caught up with him. 

“The next episode is gonna start soon, so we should probably get back?” Triton’s gaze was becoming uncomfortable, so Neptune turned to look at the screen. As Triton predicted, the screen was beginning to brighten in anticipation of the next part of this adventure through space. 

“Yes, let’s.” Neptune pushed himself to his feet, reluctant to move but even more reluctant to stay seated. “Where are the others? They said something about a moon club?”

“Oh, yeah, I told Proteus he could be the speaker for the Neptunian moons this time, so he’s probably been rambling to the whole group incessantly.” Triton worried his bottom lip as he turned his gaze to the disbanding moon huddle. 

“I’m sure he had fun.” Neptune replied, following his gaze to find the rest of his moons darting back towards his bean bag. He counted them as they approached, but only got 14. Proteus.

“Where’s Proteus?” After quickly marching across the room to meet his other moons at the bean bag, Neptune couldn’t help the anxious question slipping out. He’d counted three times and it was definitely Proteus they were missing. The little ones glanced between each other nervously, before Triton’s stern gaze broke Nereid’s nerve.

“He went off to talk to Planet X. He came and asked for a few moons to speak to, and Proteus told us to stay while he went to investigate!” Nereid spilled, eyes darting around the room. “I think he’s still talking to him?”

Sure enough, when Neptune finally broke out of his panicked tunnel-vision, he saw the little moon sitting on Planet X’s bean bag. The sight stirred an ugly feeling in his core, one he beat down until it stopped moving. 

“Proteus? It’s time to come back!” Neptune called gently, not wanting to startle his moon. He rarely told the moons to do anything with any force, and he was well aware of Triton’s opinion of that, but it just didn’t feel right to him. His moons didn’t need to obey him, they weren’t lesser than him or under his command. They were his moons! A gift from gravity and matter, even if the circumstances that brought them to him weren’t kind. No, bad thought, Neptune.

“OK, Neptune!” Luckily, no more than an ask was needed to convince Proteus to return to him. That ugly feeling rose again for another attack as the ice giant watched his moon hug Planet X’s arm before leaving. That’s my moon, not yours.

With Proteus finally back in his proper place, Neptune let himself settle down into the now-familiar bean bag. As he watched his moons do the same, he was surprised to see Triton also finding a comfortable spot.

“Don’t you want to go back to your dwarf planet friends?” He asked curiously, surprised to see him back so soon. Triton adjusted his sunglasses before he spoke.

“Nah, I’m good here, I can still hear them fine.” Triton dismissed with a bored voice, before turning a cautious head towards Caelus and X. “Besides, I get the feeling you might need some back up.”

Neptune tried not to nod too obviously. As glad as he was for Triton’s promise of support, he couldn’t help but feel bad for wanting it. It wasn’t Triton’s responsibility to get involved in his planet’s drama, especially when it might anger the Sun. He didn’t have long to ponder it, though, as the screen brightened to white before fading into an image of Terra’s surface and music began. 

The episode opened with some Earthling radio chatter as the image of a space telescope floating above Earth passed by. The chatter began to mix with the music (Neptune by Foals) as images of supernovae, exo-planets, and even a black hole sped across the screen. It rose into the title screen, ‘Universe’ fading onto the dark background.

Even after seeing it a few times already, Neptune always enjoyed watching the amazing images and snippets of music pass by. It felt exciting, like the Earthlings were trying to get their audience ready for an awesome experience. It was certainly working on Neptune, at least.

“Well, this one was identical to the last one, so maybe it was just the exo-planet episode that had a unique intro?” Pluto observed with a mild tone of confusion. 

“Well, we haven’t seen the last one yet, so anything could happen!” Charon added more enthusiastically to her planet. 

“Oh yeah! If this is the same length as the last doc, this should be the penultimate episode.” Mars realized with a sigh of relief. At his side, the two Martian moons giggled.

“He said ‘penultimate’!” Deimos laughed quietly to Phobos, which ignited more giggles in both of them. 

“It’s not a dirty word, guys.” Mars sighed deeper, rolling his eyes at the moons’ antics.

“The Milky Way seems a tranquil place.” The camera spans backwards through the galaxy. “Hundreds of billions of stars serenely spinning through the cosmos.”

“Didn't we spend all of last episode being told just how messed up the galaxy actually is? I wouldn’t call it tranquil, personally.” Caelus muttered, frowning at the screen. 

“Maybe on a large scale, it is messy and chaotic,” Jupiter suggested calmly to the ice giant. “But, on the scale of a single star, it is far more peaceful. No stars were colliding or getting especially close to each other.”

“Yeah, and, from a planetary scale, the galaxy is empty and dark. Not exactly tranquil, but not chaotic either.” Planet X added his own deep voice to the conversation. “So I suppose the Earthling has a point, but only from a stars’ perspective.”

Neptune wasn’t sure that was true. Not that Brian didn’t have a point. He did! But the idea that only a star would see this place as tranquil. Sure, if you focused on the dark and the lonely, it seemed all-encompassing, but if you looked for the nice stuff it was everywhere!

“But journey inwards through the gas and dust that shrouds the galactic core, and you see a curious sight.” The spinning stars were rotating in orbit around nothing. “Stars orbiting seemingly empty space.”

That…certainly was odd. Neptune couldn’t wrap his mind around why that would happen. Everything he knew about gravity had come from his own trial and error experiments. He hadn’t even thought to ask the Earthlings for books about the stuff! I can’t wait to get back and maybe read a few? It will be so interesting and I’ll probably learn so much! Wait, stop getting distracted, focus on the screen!

“Why would that happen?” Mercury was clearly also confused, turning the question to their Sun and oldest planet. Jupiter only looked equally perplexed, while the Sun had an expression of nausea.

“A centre of mass. Larger than the stars.” The star eventually got out, avoiding any querying looks or further probing questions.

“Something dark and ancient lives here. A hole in the fabric of the Universe.” Brian was walking in the dark, holding a bright light in his hand. 

“A hole? How can a hole have more mass than those stars?” Venus questioned the Earthling on screen. 

No one seemed to have the answer. Even the Sun stayed quiet, gazing at the screen with a nervous expression. Neptune tried to think of anything that could fit the description Brian offered. More massive than a star? Very few things have more mass than a star. I mean, they can’t be talking about…that thing I’m not supposed to mention. Nah, it’s probably just an extra big star!

“Every one of those points of light in the night sky is a strange and fascinating place.” He looked up to the sky with the camera. “Magnificent suns with countless planets orbiting around them. Alien worlds beyond imagination.”

“Wait, Brian, elaborate a bit before randomly talking about planets and stars again!” Earth sounded frustrated by the tangent. Neptune couldn’t help but agree, as much as he didn’t like to feel annoyed, his unanswered question was burning a hole in his core. 

“But the strangest and most fascinating places out there by far are dark and unseen.” Brian spoke to the camera, his face lit by a faint light. “

“Brian creeping around in the dark isn’t reassuring me that this won’t be a scary watch.” Haumea worried, already pinching the edges of the bean bag he was sitting on.

“Scary? It sounds far more intriguing to me!” Makemake grinned at his friend, clasping his hands together. “If the Earthlings are scared of it, maybe they just don’t understand it yet? This could be a new mystery for them to solve!”

“Do they have to do it in front of us, though? I didn’t sign up for a mystery, scary or otherwise.” Eris rolled her eyes dismissively at the screen.

“An invisible monster is lurking in the centre of the Milky Way.” The screen flashed to an image of planets hanging in the dark, blasted by some kind of radiation. The music rose in volume. “A monster that drains the colour from the Universe.”

“What is happening to them?” Saturn’s concerned voice echoed Neptune’s own thoughts. Whatever was happening to those planets, it sure looked painful. Even in his distant orbit, he was protected from most of the outside radiation from the Universe, but maybe these planets weren’t?

“It looks like some kind of energy, though I can’t even begin to guess what kind.” Jupiter theorised, squinting at the screen as if it would reveal more clues on a closer look. 

“With the power to destroy worlds.” A scattering of ice and rock passed by the screen, “And stop time.”

“OK, now the Earthlings are just making stuff up.” Ganymede complained from his seat in front of Jupiter. Him and Europa were oddly apart from the other Galilean moons, though the choice seemed to be with them. Callsito and Io occasionally passed questioning glances their way, but received no response.

“I’ll admit, I know of nothing that can stop time itself.” Jupiter half-agreed, “But, I will bet that the Earthlings at least have reasons for stating such an outlandish thing. I’m sure they’ll explain it soon.”

“Whatever.”

The screen was suddenly lit by a bright blast of light emanating from a strange orb. Neptune had to turn his eyes away in pain. “We’ve named the monster Sagittarius A* and we believe it to be a black hole.”

As the wind in his mind seemed to grow louder, Neptune fought the urge to clasp his hands over his ears. It wasn’t just in his mind, the whole room was far louder suddenly, everyone talking at once. It was hard to think. Harder than usual. Every thought he could grab at only dissolved as soon as he tried to focus on it. Quiet, please.

“A-a b-b-black h-hole!” Io’s stammered voice caught Neptune’s ear over the rush of noise from every corner of the room. 

“Oops, I meant to remind you not to think, my bad.” Callisto’s monotone voice made it hard to perceive whether she was joking or not. At least, harder than most celestial, what with Neptune’s track-record of missed jokes being pretty high by now.

“Black holes are real?” Mercury exclaimed, his voice pitched higher in surprise. “I thought they were just one of Venus’ scary stories!”

“I mean, my Earthlings took pictures of one, so obviously they exist.” Earth bit back, though even he looked put off by the idea of one at the centre of their galaxy.”

“I have heard of them, but to actually have found and named one so close to us…the Earthlings impress me more with every episode.” Jupiter seemed calm at least. Keeping his eyes trained on the largest planet, Neptune tried to imitate his breathing and his body language. Neptune enjoyed mimicry, it was one of his best skills, and in situations like this it allowed him to adopt another’s level-headed image and rhythmic breathing. Very useful.

“QUIET!” Clearly their star did not utilize a similar strategy, as he was now almost on fire with rage. The steam that rolled off of his form was gathering in the ceiling, reminding Neptune of that water cycle thing he needed to grab a book on. Water vapor gathering, then falling as rain, only to be evaporated again. Up and down and up and down.

By the time Neptune realised his attention had drifted, the rest of the room was reduced to only hushed whispers, with all eyes trained on the star or the screen. Sensing a gap, the screen unpaused itself.

“Sagittarius A* has played a major role in the evolution of our galaxy and may even have influenced the formation of stars and planets like ours.” Brian was walking through the dark, rocky area. 

“I can’t believe they named it. A black hole, the worst form a celestial can take! And they gave it a name!” The Sun hissed at the screen, twisting his face into a scowl. 

Trying to keep up with the documentary, Neptune scrambled through his small pile of knowledge he’d placed under lock and key in his mind, hoping to find some extra information. He’d predicted black holes, long before Uranus had told him a horror story overheard from the inner system, but his predictions never told him anything about the ‘worstness’ of them. Honestly, it was hard to believe they were even celestials, conscious beings that could take forms and speak. If they are sentient…I hope it doesn't hurt.

“But, if it had an impact on our formation, wouldn't that make it a force for good?” Mars cautiously asked the infuriated Sun, who swung around to glare at the red planet.

“A black hole can never be a good thing! They only consume, everything that gets close to them is destroyed, no hope of return!” The star emphasized, stressing the words as he spoke. He was also stressing Neptune out, but that wasn’t important right now. 

“But there is so much more, because black holes like Sagittarius A* present the most profound intellectual challenge.” He explained to the camera. “They are a part of nature just like you and me, so we should be able to understand them, but they are holes in the fabric of the Universe.”

“Trust the Earthlings to reduce this to a maths problem!” Caelus dismissed with a scoff. “They see a literal hole in the Universe and think ‘I wonder if I can understand that?’”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Neptune wasn’t that dense, he knew Caelus disliked maths and had far less curiosity for the Earthlings compared to others, but Neptune always tried to offer another approach, just in case. “All that curiosity, in such little beings!”

“Well, you would say that. You’re just as bad as them half the time, running off to play with random asteroids.” Caelus’ comment didn’t sound harsh, but the words pricked at Neptune’s core. 

“Come now, Caelus, you must admit they are interesting creatures.” Planet X joined in, raising Neptune’s caution ten-fold. Despite trying, he could not remove the lump that settled in his core every time X appeared near him. It didn’t help that the planet seemed to be following his friend around like a shadow recently. Or maybe it was the other way round?

“Interesting maybe, but amazing? Definitely not.” Caelus relented to Planet X’s words, further confusing Neptune. Why is interesting a better description than amazing? Don’t they suggest a similar attitude? Or…maybe not? Maybe I’m mixing up my words again?

“They are gravitational prisons from which even light itself can’t escape.” The dark of the screen felt like it was creeping into the room. “And in trying to understand them, physicists have been led to completely reassess our most basic understanding of reality.”

“Sounds like they went ‘space mad’” Ariel suggested with a wary tone. “Staring too much into a black hole sends you mad, I’ve heard!”

“Earthlings can’t go ‘space mad’, that’s only for celestials.” Titania insisted to her fellow moon, a half-second look shot at Neptune. “Besides, they aren’t acting like they’re mad, just really, really confused.”

As much as he tried to ignore it, it was disconcerting to be the local example of so-called ‘space madness’. The apparent ‘disease’ celestial risked being afflicted with if they spent too long away from a star. It sent the planet’s mind adrift, forever stuck in the dark and cold, twisting around on itself to entertain the conscious being within. He’d been told that’s what being alone in his orbit had done to him, but sometimes it was hard to see what everyone else couldn’t seem to ignore. He didn’t feel different, not compared to his old self. But, maybe the fact he could draw a line between the two wasn’t a good sign to begin with.

“But there are answers hiding in the void for those brave enough to seek them.” The camera followed behind Brian as he walked away into the darkness. ‘Heart of Darkness, Black Holes’ faded onto the screen.

“OK, that’s a pretty cool title for such a horrible topic.” Earth admitted reluctantly, grinning at the screen. “Badass way to describe it.”

“So, is this episode going to be entirely about black holes?” Luna asked at his planet’s side, flanked by a few of Saturn’s collection of moons. Neptune wasn't sure why the Earth and his moon had taken to sitting so far from the other rockies, but he suspected it had something to do with the looks the remaining rocky worlds kept giving them. I should ask Triton if he knows anything about it, he usually notices this stuff more than me.

“I suppose so? Though, I am surprised they know enough to fill an entire episode.” Titan contemplated with a slight smile. “Maybe it’ll be a short one?”

“I doubt it. If I know anything about Earthlings, it’s their ability to keep talking forever about nothing at all.” Luna sighed, mock-whispering into Titan’s ear. “They get it from their planet.”

“Hey!”

A sharp noise hit the room as a small flame was lit on the end of some organic material. A violent explosion followed. A strange, new voice began to speak. “It is said that fact is sometimes stranger than fiction, and nowhere is that more true than in the case of black holes.”

“That voice is a little…odd?” Saturn tilted his head at the screen in confusion. “And where did Brian go?”

“It sounds almost artificial? But, I’ve only heard a handful of Earthling voices, so I can’t really tell.” Jupiter joined in, turning a curious eye to the Earth in hopes of an answer. 

“I recognise it, but I can’t remember where I've heard it before.” Earth tapped his chin thoughtfully as the strange voice kept speaking.

“Black holes are stranger than anything dreamed up by science fiction writers, but they are firmly matters of science fact.” The voice continued as images of various odd perspectives, fires, explosions, and warped lenses passed by the screen. It settled on a spacecraft hovering over Earth, ‘Space Shuttle Columbia’.

“Oh yeah! Stephen Hawking!” Earth read the note at the end of the quote, nodding to himself happily. “That voice makes sense now. He was a really smart Earthling who used a computer to speak for him.”

“Why’d he do that?” Enceladus asked with a confused tone, “Seems a bit unnecessary.”

“Oh, he couldn’t speak in the usual way because of a medical condition.” Earth corrected, “So they used a computer instead! Isn't that cool! The Earthlings can help each other so much with their intellect! And he went on to do lots of stuff with physics!”

“And black holes, it seems.” Iapetus muttered in a mild tone, adding. “It sounds like the Earthlings consider them to be very strange things indeed.”

“In the summer of 1999, NASA’s flagship mission for X-ray astronomy was released from the shuttle cargo bay.” Brian was back, speaking over the sight of a strange object being launched. ‘Chandra X-ray Observatory’ was the name given.

“X-ray astronomy?” Pluto questioned aloud from the dwarf planet bean bag. “Is that different from regular astronomy?”

“Well, I imagine it has something to do with the x-ray radiation any hot object in the Universe is constantly giving off.” Makemake speculated to his friend with a satisfied grin. “In fact, that is likely the reason they needed to send such a telescope into orbit. Their planet’s magnetic field would block any x-ray radiation from reaching the surface for them to investigate!”

“High above the Earth, Chandra scanned the sky, hunting for some of the hottest regions in the Universe.” The observatory opened up its lens. “Exploding stars and clusters of galaxies.”

“So it’s a heat-detection telescope. Do black holes even give off radiation? I thought not even light could escape them.” Caelus inquired with a confused expression.

“Yeah, the black holes can’t really be detected directly.” Earth confirmed. “That’s why it took them so long to find them.”

Neptune was feeling similarly confused, his previous attempts at understanding black holes had not provided much insight into how they actually functioned. They must have Entropy, because everything has Entropy. But…they didn’t really act like they did, at least, not all the time, and not in the same way as the rest of the Universe. Just the act of taking matter from the Universe forever was removing an amount of Entropy, something it really shouldn't be able to do. And they must expel something, otherwise they are violating even more laws of nature. Maybe they just…bend them a bit?

“But on September 14th, 2013, after 14 years, Chandra chanced on something else entirely.” The observatory floated across the screen. “The telescope gazed into the constellation of Sagittarius, hoping to observe a large cloud of hot gas.”

“Is that why they named it Sagittarius A*? Just ‘cause they found it in that constellation?” Mars asked incredulously. Venus groaned beside him dramatically.

“Don’t tell that’s also why they named that galaxy, Sagittarius Dwarf, that as well!” Venus complained, throwing an unimpressed look at the Earth. 

“Hey, I didn’t get any say in it. They like their constellation names, what can I say?” The living planet rolled his eyes dismissively, his voice carefully light. Venus looked mildly surprised to have received a direct response, while Mars’ expression was positively bursting with the need to say something. 

“Does that one have a myth to go with it? Like the others?” Mars’ voice wavered slightly, unsure and nervous despite the seemingly simple question. Neptune didn’t know what to make of this exchange, and most of it was likely going right over his head and away into the cosmos. Would it be rude to ask for a recap?

The Earth considered the words far longer than Neptune assumed was considered normal. His own attempts to follow this invisible rule generally ended poorly, but he was sure the living planet wasn’t usually as bad at it as him. Maybe he got lost in his head, like me? I mean, he has so much Earthling stuff to remember, he must get turned around sometimes? I can’t be the only planet that happens to.

“It’s had a lot of myths, but there’s not a solidly accepted one at the moment. It usually represents a centaur; not the celestial kind, but a half-human-half-horse. And whatever creature it is, it’s almost always an archer, which is a kind of Earthling that can shoot arrows.” The Earth eventually explained, gaining interested looks from the celestials around him. Mars seemed to be waiting in the pause for more, but the Earth resumed his watching of the screen, breaking eye-contact with the red planet.

An odd, blue blur appeared on the screen, pulsing and warping. “Instead, it recorded a flash of X-rays just a few pixels across, coming from the apparently empty space in the galactic core.”

“Oo! What was it?” Proteus, after extracting himself from the huddle of his fellow moons, asked in curiosity.

“A black hole, obviously! Haven’t you been paying attention?” Larissa insisted with a smug grin. Proteus returned a smug grin of his own.

“Nope! Wrong! Earth said the Earthlings can’t detect the black hole directly!” Proteus proudly proclaimed his deduction, and Neptune was caught between wanting to praise his observation and warn him off antagonising Larissa. “So what was it?”

“I’m not sure, Proteus, but I’m sure the show will tell you, if you pay as much attention as you clearly already have been.” Neptune settled for a statement that hopefully conveyed his pride as well as his wish to see them settle down. As fun as the little ones could be, their arguments tended to be far louder than Neptune wanted to hear, especially in such a small room.

“Something had got very hot for a very short period of time.” The screen cut to rubble, with a text at the bottom reading ‘26,000 light years away’. “It’s thought that the flash seen by Chandra may have been an asteroid tens of kilometres across. Ripped apart and burning up in a fireball 300 times brighter than the Sun.”

“Geez, I hope it was an asteroid, and not a conscious celestial.” Quaoar’s expression was twisted into nausea at the thought. 

“Yeah, talk about a painful end.” Eris muttered her agreement, grimacing at the screen. 

“The culprit?” A bright light assaulted Neptune’s eyes as a massive warped sphere of darkness covered the screen. The centre was pitch black, but a ring and halo of light spun around the edges. “Sagittarius A*.”

“I-it c-can do t-t-that?” Io stammered out, turning a pale yellow as he gulped in fear. As his planet placed a consoling hand on the volcanic moon’s back, the rest of Jupiter’s moons shuffled closer to him and each other, seeking security from the horrifying image on screen.

Neptune forced his eyes to adapt to the confusing mess of light and dark, squinting into it just to see better. Rather than the fear he had expected, given the reactions from the rest of the room, he instead found his eyes widening in awe. It was beautiful, in an alien, cold way. Like seeing a perfectly clear asteroid of ice pass by his vision, stunning but unfeeling. It wasn’t the same awe he felt when he’d first watched his moons wake up, or when he’d gazed upon the Sun for the first time. It was the awe he’d always had for the Kuiper Belt, despite its cold and dark, and his amazement at the things he could find and learn just from observing it.

“Horrifying, isn't it?” Caelus nudged his side, startling Neptune out of his daze. As he blinked slowly at his friend, he couldn't stop the first words in his mind from slipping out.

“No. Not at all.” 

The quizzical, worried look his friend shot his way further slapped Neptune back to reality. Oh yeah, that’s not an outside thought. Silly Neptune.

“The asteroid’s destruction was our galaxy’s black hole signalling its presence to the world.” A strange high-pitched whining was accompanying the images of the black hole, igniting an involuntary buzzing in Neptune’s core.

“So, they didn’t detect it directly, but because a random asteroid was vaporized they realised it was there?” Triton summarised, his sunglasses sitting lower on his face as he gazed at the black hole. Neptune wanted to ask him how it made him feel, but he was wary that such a question would not be received well.

“They were certainly lucky to have caught such an event!” Makemake grinned widely, adjusting his glasses to see better. “I can’t imagine the odds were in their favour for seeing such a rare thing right in front of their special telescope!”

“Yay, lucky us. We have a black hole at the centre of our home galaxy.” Pluto’s monotone reply elicited a smile from his moon.

“Well, at least we’re not orbiting a centre star. It’s nice and far away.” Charon assured in an amused voice.

“20 years ago, we didn’t know for sure that there is a black hole at the centre of our galaxy, but by measuring bursts of radiation and observing in detail the orbits of stars close to the galactic centre, we now know that Sagittarius A* definitely exists and we’ve been able to measure its mass.” Brian was back on the screen, talking to the camera.

“Wow, all that in 20 years!” Neptune wished he could find stuff out that fast. Half the time, if felt like he was chasing old knowledge he’d misplaced, rather than gaining new stuff. “Wait, how long is a year?”

“Um, one of my orbits.” Earth replied in a careful tone, giving him that look again, the signal that he’d said something stupid again.

“Oh, of course! I remember now! So, it took them 20 goes around the Sun?” Neptune asked rhetorically, but Earth nodded anyway so maybe he got the tone wrong. “Well, I can’t wait to see what they find out in another 20 orbits! Or even one of my orbits!”

“It is around four million times the mass of our Sun, which makes it a supermassive black hole, one of the strangest and most powerful objects in the Universe.” Brian explained. “And we’ve begun to suspect that Sagittarius A* isn’t just some strange thing that sits tens of thousands of light years from Earth at the centre of the galaxy.”

“They come in ‘super-massive’ size?” Ganymede looked almost as nauseous as Io at this point. “I can’t even comprehend a celestial with that much mass!”

“They are unnatural monsters.” The Sun hissed from his seat at the front, stream curling from his chin to swoop into his hair. “Abominations of destruction and death.”

“Why do you say that? Have you met one?” Mercury carefully kept his voice light and curious, not a tone of doubt that may ignite the star’s rage against him.

“N-no…not exactly. But, what else can they be? Every young star is told to avoid them, lest we be ripped to shreds. They kill without mercy.” The Sun reiterated, his voice wavering slightly to betray his fear. Neptune was oddly glad that the star’s words were not based on any solid evidence. It left more room for his own speculation about what such a celestial would be like. I think it would be nice to meet one, even if it was the end of my life. It’s at least an interesting way to go out.

“It has played a crucial role in the evolution of the Milky Way and the whole story began with the death of one massive star.” The screen cut to a lone blue star, ominous music picking up in the background.

“A star?” The sudden uncertainty in the Sun’s voice gave the room pause. Jupiter was casting cautious looks at the star, while the rest of the planets exchanged confused glances. Neptune even joined in, despite his confusion lying with the idea of a star becoming a black hole, and not the fact that the Sun seemed unaware of this fact.

As they were moved closer to the blue star, Neptune vaguely recalled seeing similar ones before, back when this had first started. First Ones.

‘13.6 billion years ago’ appeared over the violent blue star. “Soon after the dawn of time, the cosmos was home to colossal stars, hundreds of times more massive than the Sun. Stars that burnt blue with intense heat.”

“Are they trying to suggest that those stars became black holes?” Mars frowned at the screen. 

“I mean, it would make sense. Black holes probably need a lot of mass, and those stars have it!” Mercury added with a similar frown directed at the Sun. 

“Yeah, but they aren’t 4 billion times more massive than the Sun.” Venus countered in a sneer. “Something else must have happened after, even if they did become black holes.”

“But the brightest stars are the shortest lived.” The camera zoomed into the light of the star, watching its solar flares rise from the surface. “One lived a particularly fast and furious life, burning through its nuclear fuel in just a few million years.”

“I still can’t believe a star could have such a short lifespan.” Saturn bemoaned, “A few million years is the blink of an eye, even to planets and moons!”

Lifespans had always perplexed Neptune. He knew that the stars had limited ones, but what of the rest of them? The only way any other kind of celestial had ever died in front of him had been from a collision. But, with space being so vast and empty, that could not be the end of all of them. He didn't want to imagine what fate awaited all his moons and friends. Would their minds wither away completely in the darkness after the Sun was extinguished? Or would they be forced to remain aware as they drifted further and further from any light, watching every star fade and die in the distance. Maybe meeting a black hole would be the best fate. No, stop, Neptune. Bad thought.

“And with nothing left in the tank, gravity took over.” The bright light was quickly shrinking, condensing into nothing at all. “The star collapsed, ever smaller, ever denser, until it seemingly disappeared.”

As the room watched the huge star shrink into nothingness, Neptune found his eyes drawn to the Sun. The bright celestial was frozen in his seat, hands clenched into the bean bag at either side of his legs, steam gathering in the ceiling again. His eyes were fixed onto the screen with an expression Neptune couldn’t place, but it reminded him of Triton when he’d begged for those terrible answers he knew already. 

“That is some powerful gravity.” Makemake muttered in awe, only to receive a silencing nudge from Eris before he could continue to complement the death of a star.

“The remnants of the star, now smaller than an atom, lost from the Universe.” Brian’s voice spoke over a dark screen. “All that’s left is a ghost. A black hole.”

“Smaller than an ATOM?” Caelus balked at the idea, almost dropping his sketchpad in shock. “H-how? What happened to physics?”

“It is physics!” Neptune happily replied, excited to see Caelus show an interest in this. “If an amount of mass is condensed into a small enough size, it becomes a black hole! I even found an equation to find the value! I think Guillermo called it a Schwarzschild Radius? What a silly name!”

“Mate, I understood none of that, and I don’t want to understand it.” The pale ice giant awkwardly frowned at Neptune’s words, tossing an apologetic glance at Planet X over his shoulder.

Caelus’ words diminished Neptune’s enthusiasm, but he held onto his smile and instead turned to his moons. They were watching the screen with bright eyes, so happy and safe. He let the feeling wash into his mind and fill the space. It’s OK, I know he doesn’t like maths, I shouldn’t have brought it up so loudly.

“The genesis of Sagittarius A* wasn’t some bizarre one-off event.” The camera found itself in a snow-covered land. “It’s possible that almost all early stars became black holes when they died. Black holes are simply what happens when gravity goes unchecked, compacting matter so densely it tears a hole in the Universe.”

This at least lined up with Neptune’s own old equations. He supposed he should feel proud, or at least happy, that his own maths had been validated by the Earthlings’ own. But, if his best friend, his cousin, didn’t want to hear about it, what was there to feel about it at all? It might as well have not happened at all, just something his mind fabricated and would soon disintegrate. He must have been thinking too hard, because Triton’s hand against his own almost physically startled him. His oldest didn’t speak, but the contact was enough of a message for Neptune.

“So, all the First Ones may have become black holes?” Jupiter voiced aloud, casting a worried glance at the still-steaming Sun. The star removed one hand from the bean bag, clenching and unclenching his fist repeatedly.

“This is SACRILEGE! To suggest such a thing…it’s BEYOND BLASPHEMOUS!” The star raged, standing up to pace before the screen. “WHO EVER IS KEEPING US HERE, I DEMAND YOU RELEASE US! I WILL HEAR NO MORE OF THIS!”

The silence stretched oddly long, every celestial passing anxious, nervous glances between each other, waiting for something to happen. The only indication that any thing had heard their star’s words was the extended pause on the screen. The Sun remained standing, his steam now dripping down onto him just to hiss away again, his glare fixed firmly on the screen.

“Sol.” Jupiter’s carefully calm voice broke the sustained silence, the largest planet also standing to meet his star. “Please, we are sure to be freed if we finish this documentary, don’t jeopardize that for long-dead stars.”

Neptune half expected the Sun to incinerate Jupiter on the spot… Not how I would have phrased that, personally. Instead, the star seemed to deflate as he faced the oldest planet, his eyes smothered by sorrow. 

“B-but, i-it can’t be true.” The star spoke in a low voice, strained. Jupiter frowned in confusion, regarding his star with a detached pity.

“Why not? You say your knowledge of black holes is limited, maybe the other stars were wrong as well? Were any of them so old as to have met a First One?”

“N-no…but…i-if they are not monsters, why do they exist?” The star asked the impossible question to Jupiter, eyes hoping for an answer the planet could not give. “T-they don’t make s-sense! Why do they destroy everything, even light!”

Neptune felt like he was missing something from this question everyone else seemed so stuck on. Did black holes need a reason to exist? The maths suggested they did exist and that was as far as Neptune needed to go in accepting their existence. Did any of them exist for a reason? It never seemed like they did, what with the endless void of space in all directions and only each other for company. Even the Earth, with his little beings, did not necessarily have a reason to exist. They just did, and that was wonderful enough.

“I don’t know those answers, Sun, but maybe the Earthlings will find them, in time?” Jupiter tried to placate the star, but did not approach him further. The Sun scowled at the floor, brow hardened and furious. 

“They won’t.” The star stated hollowly, slowly stepping back towards his seat, Jupiter quickly following suit with a relieved glance at Saturn. “I doubt even a black hole itself would know.”

On that joyful note, the screen decided to finally unpause, the mysterious celestial finally deciding they’d heard enough from the Sun.

“In the vicinity of a black hole, space and time behave in very counterintuitive ways.” Brian was walking through the snow towards the camera. “And in fact, this river provides a beautiful and surprisingly accurate analogy.”

“In what way is a river even slightly similar to a black hole?” Dione questioned sceptically, her icy eyes watching Brian as he walked. 

“It’s…cold? I suppose it also doesn't emit much radiation either?” Hyperion offered hesitantly, only to be shoved by Mimas.

“Don’t be dense. He said space and time were involved, so your ideas are irrelevant!”

“Do you have a better idea?” Hyperion asked sarcastically, grinning when Mimas stayed silent. “Hah, see!”

“Hyperion, Mimas, please don’t fight.” Saturn’s tired voice stopped the moons in their tracks, two fists already raised. They quickly dropped them and turned back to the screen, but not before Mimas snuck one last shove in.

“You see, close to a black hole, you can think of space itself as flowing towards the black hole.” Brian tried to explain. “Now, here, the flow is not too fast, and so you could imagine I could jump into that river, I can swim faster than the river of space, and so I can escape into the galaxy.”

“It would actually be hilarious if he jumped in.” Venus grinned in amusement at the thought. Earth scowled in his direction angrily.

“He’d freeze, Venus! Those Earthlings aren’t good at surviving in the cold.”

“Skills issue. They should ‘adapt’ for it, like your Life is supposed to.” Venus’ grin only grew as the living planet’s frown deepened. 

“That’s not how that works!” 

Considering this was the most the Earth had spoken to his fellow rockies for the last few hours, Neptune could understand the logic behind Venus deliberately riling him up. What he couldn’t understand was the intention behind it. If they want him to be friends with them again, making him mad and pissing him off seem counterproductive. But, I’m clearly not a friendship expert.

“But as you get closer to the black hole, the river of space flows faster and faster and faster.” 

“Why?” Proteus asked, his confused frown spreading to the other moons. Neptune was happy to finally have someone who might actually listen to his answer ask such a question.

“It’s bend-”

“Well, it’s all about mass’ effect on the very structure of our Universe, young Proteus.” Planet X grinned, interrupting Neptune and leaving the ice giant caught off guard with a clenching core. “Anything with mass can warp space and time, because these two things are linked into each other very tightly.”

“But, why does mass have that effect?” Triton jumped in, his question similarly catching Planet X off guard. Proteus grinned excitedly at seeing his older brother join in, but X regarded the major moon warily. Neptune felt his core warm with amusement and astonishment. Triton’s either way better at maths than I thought, or he’s actually been listening to my tangents about this! To be fair, I’ve brought it up so many times, he probably memorized it against his will.

“W-well, that’s a little harder to explain. And I can’t imagine a moon like you would be interested in the answer.” X deflected, smirking subtly at Triton, who returned it with a hard stare. Neptune usually felt he could trust Triton not to start fights, but the look in his eyes was making that seem like a risky bet right now. 

Proteus was thankfully oblivious to the tension, merely grinning with excitement as his big brother settled down beside him, deliberately shielding him from X’s gaze. As Neptune tucked the moons back in, his gaze strayed to X’s. The dark ice giant was watching his little moon far too closely, raising the caution in Neptune’s core. He fought down the urge to shoot a scowl of his own at the planet. No, that would be mean. And I don’t want to be mean. But if he hurts any of my moons…

“A collapsed star is so small and yet so massive that close to it, the gravitational forces become overwhelming.” The screen was filled by a flowing river, swirling and crashing over small rocks. It continued down the river as ominous music rose in the background, until it reached a waterfall. “There is no limit to the speed at which the river of space can flow.”

“I still don’t understand how something can be small and large at the same time.” Ariel confessed to her fellow Uranuian moons (or is it Caeluian moons now?). “It just doesn’t make sense!”

“It’s certainly hard to wrap your mind around.” Miranda agreed with a huff. “Where is all that mass going? What form is it even in, to be able to fit within the space of an atom?”

“I guess some rule of physics would have to break? Maybe density becomes infinite, and the particles are forced together regardless?” Puck piped up, his brow furrowed in thought. “But then, if black holes are breaking physics, can we even say anything for certain about them? For all we know, everything just gets spat back out in another reality or dimension!”

“Oh no, we are not bringing alternate realities into this again, Puck!” Ariel protested loudly, earning a sheepish grin from the smaller moon.

“Oh, I’m getting a core-ache.” Oberon bemoaned, pressing his face into his hands.

“There’s a place where the river becomes a waterfall, where no matter how fast I swim, I could never escape upstream, and that’s what happens in the vicinity of a black hole.” Brian was standing above the waterfall. “The river of space flows at and then faster than the speed of light. Light itself can’t move fast enough to escape.”

“So…it’s like an invisible sinkhole?” Luna tried to grasp some understanding of the Earthling’s words. “Once you’re in it, you can’t escape.”

“I guess? But what happens after that? Do you just get crushed by gravity and added to the mass of the black hole?” Titan questioned with a pained grimace, the very thought of having to work this out becoming physically painful. 

“I imagine getting ripped to atoms would be the first thing.” Luna replied in a dismissive tone. “After that, I can’t say I’d be able to care. Being eaten by a black hole seems like a pretty permanent end.”

“Well, that might break physics as well, depending on how that energy from your atoms is stored.” Makemake pushed into the conversation with an excited grin. “Information can’t be destroyed, so if a black hole is destroying anything that falls into it so thoroughly that its information is lost, physics is broken.”

At the sight of the uncomprehending expressions sent his way, Makemake laughed nervously. “But, that might not be what is happening! We really don’t know enough about them to say!”

“And that’s what Sagittarius A* is. It’s a waterfall in the fabric of the Universe.”

“Delightful.” Planet X muttered to the right of Caelus, his deep voice dripping with sarcasm.

“How am I even supposed to draw this? Do I just scribble a massive patch of nothing?” Caelus pushed his sketchpad forward, allowing Neptune to catch a glimpse of it. So far, the page only held a small asteroid being ripped to pieces, alongside a rough sketch of the river.

“From the moment the black hole formed, the seed of Sagittarius A* had a heart of pure darkness.” The light of the galaxy was being warped and smudged by the edges of the black hole. However, the middle was completely dark. “The interior forever hidden from view. Shielded from the rest of the Universe by a boundary in space. The event horizon. The ultimate point of no return.”

“How can you argue such a being could be anything other than a monster?” The Sun hissed in disbelief. “The Earthling said it himself, a heart of darkness!” 

“Welll, we can’t really call it that based only on the Earthling’s words.” Neptune couldn’t help his thoughts spilling out to counter the star’s boring ones. “I mean, what is a monster? Something that destroys? Does it require intent? If not, can we call you a monster because you slowly strip our atmospheres away and will one day kill a few of us?”

At a sharp nudge from both Caelus and Triton, Neptune realised he probably shouldn't have said that. At least, he shouldn't have said that last bit. Oh dear, the star was really staring at him now. Um…I suppose I’m glad we aren't in our physical forms, I have no desire to be a puddle right now.

“HOW DARE YOU! I AM YOUR STAR!” The Sun shouted loud enough to drown out the wind in Neptune’s ears, denying him any escape from the noise. “I AM NOTHING LIKE A BLACK HOLE!”

“Aren’t you?” Neptune could almost feel the desperate looks from his cousin and moon, pleading for him to shut up. But, Neptune wasn’t scared, not really. The Sun could not hurt him here, and Neptune had no reason to think he would, even if he could. And if he was wrong and the star destroyed him, then at least he’d have made a point, even if in a rather unnecessary way. 

“I-I-” The star’s voice stuttered before he could shout again, his eyes dimming with confusion and hurt. His gaze darted almost anxiously to his gas giants, where Jupiter was watching with a careful eye. “Of course I’m not like a black hole, what are you even saying?”

Neptune could think of a few ways they resembled each other, but he didn’t want to dump everything on the star like it was an attack. He’d only brought it up to suggest that a celestial's worth maybe shouldn’t be determined by arbitrary things like whether or not they destroy things. Just by a stars’ nature, they were doomed to hurt others; planets could fall into them, their solarwinds could barren them, and at the end of their lives they either absorbed the planets or cast them away to wander empty space. And despite this, stars aren’t considered evil. So why should a black hole be marked as such? But how can I say all this without making him angrier? 

“Please excuse my fellow ice giant.” Planet X’s deep voice spoke up before Neptune could elaborate on his previous words, the dark ice giant stepping forward to face the Sun. “As I’m sure we’re all aware, he is quite mad, and his words should not be taken seriously. I apologize on his behalf, my star.”

Now, Neptune wasn’t typically one to care what anyone thought of him, mad or crazy or just a bit ‘special’. But hearing X weaponize this to silence a point he wanted to voice and watching the room of his fellow celestials exchange relieved or agreeing glances crushed his core into a tighter knot. Even Uranus-wait, no, Caelus nodded to Planet X’s words, sighing in relief as the star seemed to consider his words. Pain lapped from his core, striking against his atmosphere and super-heating the winds further, drowning out his thoughts. 

“Neptune? Is this true?” The Sun surprised him with the question, bringing his mind back to the present. He needed to answer, to correct this, to make his point known despite X’s twisting of the situation. But, his mind wasn’t cooperating, words spinning past so fast he felt almost nauseous.

“N-no? I-I meant to say…” His mind blanked again, ripping away the rest of the words he’d managed to scoop from the mess. “I meant to… I don’t know?”

The Sun’s pitying expression stung harder than a blow from his solar flares, forcing Neptune’s head down in uncharacteristic embarrassment. His wind continued to rage, and Neptune let it wash his thoughts away, glad enough for the chance to forget this.

“As we approach the event horizon, we get our first glimpse of the true weirdness of black holes.” The waterfall was back, the water frothed to white by the fall. “Einstein taught us that space and time are not what they seem. They are merged together into a kind of fabric, the fabric of the Universe. It’s called space time.”

“Wow, what a creative name.” Venus muttered sarcastically, “I wonder how long it took Ensign to come up with that?”

“First of all, it’s EINSTEIN, for your information.” The Earth bit back, emphasizing the name loudly. “Secondly, that is a perfect name. It gets the point across and nobody is confused by it.”

“I’m confused by it.” Saturn reluctantly spoke up. “What does he mean by fabric?”

“Oh, fabric is just something the human Earthlings make to cover themselves up. Look, Brian is even wearing some, thankfully.” Earth pointed out with a wave of his hand. “They basically want you to visualise space time as a flat plane that can be bent or stretched.”

“And Einstein also taught us that the presence of massive objects -stars and planets and galaxies- curved and distorts the fabric of the Universe.” Brian was sitting at the foot of the falls, snow falling softly around him. “And that’s what we feel as the force of gravity.”

“Hm, that kinda makes sense, I think?” Pluto tilted his head at the screen with narrowed eyes. “So, the black holes have so much mass that they make really big distortions? And that’s what forces things towards them?”

“I’m still stuck on the fabric bit.” Haumea sighed out, his shoulders drooping. “This episode is so much harder to follow than the last few.”

“I could use a diagram or summary notes at this point.” Eris suggested, rubbing her forehead with the back of one hand.

“But that distortion is not only in space, it’s also in time.” Brian indicated with his hands as he explained. “As you go closer and closer to a massive object, the rate that time passes slows down. So if I look towards a black hole, I see time passing slower and slower and slower until, on the event horizon, time stops.”

“Uh, does that happen with us as well?” Mercury asked uncertainty, “I mean, maybe not me, but do the larger gas giants also slow time?” 

“Anything with mass has this effect, so you definitely do.” Jupiter assured the smallest planet.

“Yeah! Even on my surface, the Earthlings can measure this time-slowing.” Earth jumped in excitedly, his moon watching him with a tired expression. “Just putting one clock on a mountain and another at sea-level can show a difference in how fast time passes.”

“Wait, so is time actually a thing? Like, something that can be impacted by gravity and space and all that?” Europa asked, her curious eyes finding her planet’s own. Jupiter froze and contemplated the words before offering her an apologetic shrug.

“I’ll have to look into that, Europa. That is a fascinating question, though.”

Neptune wanted to speak up. He had theories about this, he knew he did, somewhere in his mind. About time, and how the warping of space time by the mass merely forced everything around a massive object to take a longer, curved route, seemingly slowing everything down, even light. That what appeared to be the slowing of time was merely due to stretching of this ‘fabric’ as the Earthlings called it. However, any attempt to open his mouth was strangled by the winds quickly whipping his words away, tossing them back into his core. He didn’t have the energy to keep dragging them back up, not right now at least.

The waterfall slowed to a crawl and the snowflakes hung in the air, before quickly returning to normal speed. The screen morphed into the black hole once again. “Sagittarius A* was born a waterfall in the fabric of the Universe, where space flows faster than light and time grinds to a halt.”

“So, if black holes are conscious celestials, do they even experience time passing?” Titan’s question gave Neptune pause. What would it be like?

“If we all cause a similar distortion, do we experience time differently?” Dione countered pointedly. “I don’t think so, so I suspect black holes wouldn’t either.”

“That’s only if we actually do all experience time passing at the same rate.” Iapetus added in a doubtful tone. “We would need to test that, I suppose.”

“I’m not running around the system handing everyone a clock to hold, thank you very much.” Luna huffed, valiantly ignoring his planet laughing beside him.

“But our black hole was still just a baby, dwarfed by the stars around it.” The form of the black hole passed by a massive blue star. “It was nothing like the monster it would become.”

“...aww?” Saturn’s quiet comment was thankfully ignored by the Sun, much to the ringed planet’s relief. Neptune suddenly found himself trying to suppress a laugh at the image of their star’s face if Saturn had been louder. A baby black hole does sound adorable! 

“Sagittarius A* today is four million times the mass of the Sun.” Brian explained to the camera. “There has never been a star that massive. So it must have formed by the collapse of something much smaller and then it must have grown over the lifetime of the Milky Way by eating stuff.”

“Eating?” Uranus questioned the living planet. “Isn’t that something your Earthlings do?”

“Yeah, but not the way black holes do. That would get…really messy.” The Earth shivered at the thought before refocusing on the point. “It’s a bit less dramatic, and a lot less violent.”

“Uh, don’t they have to kill each other first?” Luna asked his planet quizzically, a disbelieving frown on his face.

“Not… all the time.” Earth settled on, awkwardly avoiding the glances from the rest of the room.

“Unfortunately, there has been a lot of stuff around for it to eat.” Brian spoke to the screen. “The young black hole’s inexorable gravitational pull meant there was no escape for anything that strayed too close.” 

“See, indiscriminate destruction.” The Sun started up again. “There’s no telling how many celestials were killed by it.”

“You know, Neptune had a point earlier.” Hearing Planet X’s voice again stung for some reason Neptune couldn’t pinpoint. “If you consider that the actions of a monster, what of the early rocky planets’ deaths? Many of them were drawn into your atmosphere, regardless of Jupiter.”

“T-that was an accident! I couldn’t prevent it, they went past the Roche limit!” The Sun protested again, though his rage was more subdued, almost nervous. “I can’t turn off my gravity!”

“Exactly. And I suspect a black hole is equally as incapable of switching off the draw it has on other celestial bodies.” Planet X articulated clearly, stirring the ugly feeling in Neptune’s core again till it splashed and boiled. Stop it! Why is this feeling here? What ‘point’ did I have earlier? Why am I being so mean to X, he’s not done anything!

‘13 billion years ago’ appeared over another blue star, its form being warped towards the black hole. “Sagittarius A* began to grow, pulling on nearby stars, before ripping them to shreds and feasting on the hot plasma.” The blue star was being torn and absorbed into the hole in space time. “The black hole gaining more mass and more gravitational power.”

The room recoiled at the morbid, visceral images of a star being slowly drained by the black hole. Small noises of dismay passed through the gathered celestials, and Neptune found himself with an arm-full of moons seeking reassurance or shelter from the sight. Keeping them close to him at least seemed to lessen the mess of emotions running in his core. This kinda ruined whatever point Planet X was trying to make earlier, from the looks of it. The Sun isn’t going to take that argument seriously now.

“But we don’t think there were enough stars nearby for the black hole to grow supermassive on a diet of stars alone. Instead, it developed a taste for more massive prey.”

“More massive than stars? But, aren’t the black holes the only thing bigger than stars?” Proteus, who was still sitting beside Triton outside of Neptune’s hug, spoke up with his question. “Is it going to EAT a black hole?”

“I suspect that is what they are hinting towards.” Jupiter agreed solemnly, his hands folded carefully on his lap as his fingers threaded together absentmindedly. “Though, I am surprised they would suggest such a thing. It seems supremely outlandish.”

“Well, that Hawking guy at the start did say they’re ‘stranger than fiction’.” Neptune didn’t recognise the voice as his own at first, the low volume catching him off guard. It at least garnered a positive reaction from his moons, who smiled at him and hugged harder. Oh, I guess I haven’t spoken much recently…why was that?

Two black holes were circling around each other, warping the area around them into a smudge. “When another black hole passed close to Sagittarius A*, they became locked in a gravitational embrace, spiralling towards each other, approaching half the speed of light.”

“It’s kind of beautiful, in an ominous sort of way.” Callisto mused at the sight of the two spinning masses of blackness. It was truly a mesmerizing view, one he wished he could witness in his physical form. Though, I imagine that would be ill-advised.

“I-it’s l-like a d-dance!” Io agreed, peeking out from behind his fellow moons to gaze at the screen. “I-I didn’t k-know b-black h-holes could b-be pretty!”

“Well, that proves there’s hope for you yet, Callsito, if even black holes are pretty now.” Europa teased with a smirk. Callisto rolled her eyes to the ceiling before replying in a monotone voice.

“And yet still no hope for you, how sad.”

The black holes began to warp each other, twisting closer and closer. “Before colliding.” The screen was washed in bright light, before fading to show a single, massive black hole. 

“Ouch.” Mars hissed as the bright light blinded the room. Neptune closed his eyes a bit too late and was now stuck blinking rapidly to clear his vision. Luckily, it seemed his little moons had been able to avoid a similar issue. Triton hadn’t even turned his gaze away, protected as he was by the sunglasses. Maybe I should get some for all the moons, and myself.

“Sagittarius A* cannibalised its cousin, creating ripples in the fabric of the Universe itself.” A pulse passed through the darkness. “More meals were to follow. Black holes, stars, gas clouds; whatever ventured too deep into its lair.”

“Hey, they were cousins too!” Neptune nudged Uranus excitedly, grinning at him with the hope he’d smile back. Instead, the pale ice giant winced at his words and glanced in embarrassment at X, his posture hunching slightly.

“Mate, don’t say stuff like that so loud.” Uranus mumbled quietly, drawing a confused frown from Neptune. Seeing his expression, Uranus elaborated softly. “It’s weird, that black hole ate the other one, I really don’t think it applies to us.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean it like that!” Neptune wiped the frown from his face. “I just heard ‘cousin’ and thought, ‘hey I have one of those!’ An awesome one!”

“Heh, thanks, mate.” Uranus chuckled awkwardly, eyes darting again to X, who was watching the two ice giants now. Neptune didn’t understand what that look they exchanged meant, but it unsettled his core.

“How did our galaxy even form if it was eating everything around it?” Titan questioned, his voice breaking Neptune’s focus on the ice giants. The Saturnian moon was sitting beside Luna, watching from the floor. I wonder if that odd celestial will give us more bean bags, if we asked nicely?

“I’m not sure, but there must be some limit to its reach, or maybe something slowed it down?.” Dione mused, tossing a glance at Titan. “I wonder if this one is still eating stars, just slower?”

“I-I h-hope n-not!” Io complained, shivering at the thought. “I-I d-do n–not w-wanna be e-eaten b-by a b-black h-hole!”

“I really don’t think we’re close enough to worry about that. The Sun’ll burn out long before we’d even get there.” Enceladus dismissed with a wave of his hand towards the star in question.

“And as our black hole’s power and influence grew, its surroundings were changing too.” The camera zoomed out from the black hole to show the Milky Way. “Around the galactic core, hundreds of billions of stars were in orbit, slowly spinning around their common centre of mass, evolving into the familiar spiralling disc, the majestic Milky Way, with Sagittarius A* at its core.”

“Sooo, did the black hole create our galaxy, then? Technically?” Pluto voiced aloud, igniting expressions around the room ranging from thoughtful to disturbed.

“...I suppose so.” Jupiter acknowledged with a bemused glance at the Sun. “If we consider ourselves ‘creations’ of the Sun, and moons as ‘creations’ of planets? It is hard to picture, I must admit.”

“Great, so our home galaxy was made by a massive, cannibalistic monster.” Ganymede huffed, “That’s just the kind of good news I was looking for.”

“Sagittarius A* became what we now call a supermassive black hole, many tens or even hundreds of thousands of times more massive than any star in the Universe.” Brian was walking on a rocky area, snow scattered in patches. “And Sagittarius A* is not unique. We now think that virtually every large galaxy has a supermassive black hole at its heart.”

“So, the hierarchy goes; black holes, stars, planets, dwarf planets, moons, and then everything else?” Mercury listed, using one hand to visualise. On his left side, Venus scoffed.

“Hierarchy? We don’t have a hierarchy.” Saturn sounded upset, and when Neptune turned to look, the ringed giant was twisting his hands together. 

“Easy for a planet to say, but the rest of us are well aware of it.” Enceladus muttered bitterly. “I mean, even you planets should see it, the way you bow and scrape for the Sun.”

“I-I…” Saturn didn’t seem able to find a response to that. At his side, Jupiter was tense, carefully eyeing the star with a wary expression. Kinda proving his point there, Jupiter.

Neptune wasn’t stupid. He knew he wasn’t, even if sometimes it felt like that’s how he was perceived. He saw the divide between planet and star, and planet and moon. Even at the beginning, the Sun had been the sole voice of authority he couldn’t ignore, even in his distant orbit. And when moons started to wake up, he’d watch the same dynamic take place. Of course, it was rarely so blatant, but it was there. And it was prevalent enough that Neptune almost thought it was some law of the Universe, some unescapable state. But, when his own moons had finally awoken, he’d felt no power over them, nothing beyond simple gravity. There was no desire to order them around or dismiss them, nor to hurt them or use them. So, that had put him back at square one, trying to work out why the hierarchy even existed at all. 

Triton had spoken of a moon revolution, and maybe that further demonstrated just how little power planets held over moons. But still, damage had been done. The moons were increasingly showing just how unfairly or carelessly they’d been treated. Even Neptune’s own moon, his oldest moon, had thought that Neptune trapped him, captured him and kept him as some kind of prize. As wrong as that assumption had been, the fact Triton hadn’t thought it would be something the Sun would punish Neptune for was disturbing. The idea that planets could just trap random celestials for fun, and the only authority above them would say nothing to prevent it. 

He must have gotten lost in his head again, because the room had quieted down and the screen unpaused itself. From a few quick glances around the room, it seemed that no progress had been made on either side, moons still frustrated and angry, while their planets fretted or denied. 

“Chandra has looked beyond the Milky Way and observed countless supermassive black holes lurking at the hearts of the myriad galaxies that litter the cosmos.” The observatory was back on the screen, floating through space. “These monsters aren’t obscure quirks of nature. They are fundamental features of it.”

“I-I just can’t wrap my mind around this.” Mars muttered in disbelief. “Black holes make galaxies? How do the Earthlings even think of this stuff, let alone test it?”

“Lots of maths, I think.” Mercury suggested with a shrug. “I guess it does make sense though, given how massive they are compared to even stars.”

“It does not make sense at all.” Venus snarked, a frustrated breath leaving his nose. “I still can’t understand how all that mass just, rips a hole in that space fabric? Why does that even happen? How can that be natural?”

“Well, it must be natural, otherwise it wouldn’t exist.” Neptune helpfully joined in, giving his best smile to the grumpy planet. “Unless aliens made them? Or is the simulation just glitching?”

“What are you even going on about, mate?” Uranus shook his head, a similar frustration echoing in his voice. Neptune just offered him a smile as well, hoping that would cheer him up a bit. I always feel better when someone smiles at me!

“And far from being bit players, we’re starting to realize that black holes have the power and reach to sculpt the galaxies around them.” A map of galaxies was spread across the screen of black. 

“It’s messing with the galaxy as well?” Earth asked in a confused note, fidgeting where he sat. “How? Aren’t they just big waterfalls, like Brian said?”

“I’m not sure we can reduce black holes down into ‘just waterfalls’, Earth.” Luna countered. “We barely knew they existed 20 years ago, who knows what the Earthlings could've found out.”

‘8 billion years ago’ faded over the image of a messy galaxy. “The centre of our young galaxy was rich in gas and dust. More offerings to feast on. This was a gluttonous period that marks a new era for the Milky Way’s supermassive black hole. When the invisible monster became sculptor of the galaxy.” The form of the black hole was surrounded by a sparking energy, wrapping and twisting into a beam cast from it. The screen was rendered white with light as the bean crossed the camera.

“It can make beams of light now? What is even going on anymore?” Uranus’s voice dripped with disbelief and incredulity. Neptune was feeling similarly perplexed as to what the Earthlings could be hinting at. Massive light beam wasn’t something I calculated before…I think?

“I don’t know! But it looks exciting!” Neptune said joyfully, endlessly curious to see what the cause was. “It’s like that character of yours, the planet with that ability to shoot lasers! What was their name-”

“Shhh!” Uranus’ low but forceful interruption surprised Neptune, who had not anticipated a hand across his mouth. Uranus looked oddly tense, angry even; but that wouldn’t line up with his memories of the happiness he found when he tried to pinpoint those cute little characters in his mind. “Mate, I told you to never bring that stuff up! It’s silly!”

“But silly is fun! And you really liked them before, I remember that much…at least, I think that’s what I’m remembering?” Neptune felt even more uncertain as his cousin’s face twisted into something he could only describe as mortified. Huh, that’s new?

“Just stop talking, Neptune. You’re embarrassing me!” Uranus hissed, forcing Neptune to pull back from him in confusion. As the pale ice giant turned away, he quickly shot a nervous glance at X. The planet was watching them again, eyes missing nothing. 

Once the brightness faded, the screen displayed a misty forest, with Brian walking across the crackly ground. “Creation and destruction often go hand-in-hand in the Universe and black holes are no exceptions.”

“They create?” Haumea frowned at the screen.

“Have you not been paying attention? It literally told us they make galaxies.” Eris shot him an incredulous stare. 

“No- I mean, yes, I have been paying attention!” Haumea rushed to correct. “But, like, that kind of creation is just gravity, isn't it? Not really the most involved kind of creation. I’m wondering if they do any other kinds?”

“Laser beams seem to be their current method, though I can’t imagine how that ‘creates’ anything.” Triton drawled from his spot next to Proteus, looking over at his friends. Neptune had been so proud of Triton for finding new friends, even if that meant he had to leave sometimes. Being the sole major moon of one of the most remote planets definitely restricted how many other celestials his moon could actually make friends with, but this new dwarf planet club and moon club seemed to be helping. And not just Triton, all his moons seemed so much happier after those meetings, rushing back to tell him everything they’d done. I’m glad they get an escape. My orbit does get tiring at times.

“Sagittarius A* is certainly not only an agent of destruction, because the material that falls inwards towards the black hole doesn’t all vanish across the event horizon.” Brian explained as he walked through the misty forest. “A lot of it goes into orbit around the black hole.”

“That can’t be a fun orbit.” Rhea muttered sympathetically. “Being that close to a barrier even light can’t escape!”

“They must be going so fast!” Phobos’ voice held an edge of awe to its excitement, “I wonder how it feels?”

“Well, considering time would be slowed down for them, it might just feel the same as a normal orbit?” Mimas pointed out. “Except, we don’t even know if we’re affected by space time warping.”

“That would require us to actually do that silly experiment.” Luna muttered, though his tone was far less dismissive. “...maybe we should, just to check.” 

“And that region is tremendously violent. There are magnetic fields that swirl around and become twisted and distorted, and they can throw material out along the magnetic poles of the black hole, making jets that sweep through the galaxy.”

“So, all that material is going so fast, it’s creating a massive magnetosphere?” Mercury tried to summarize. “And it can just…shoot the charge out? If we spun a planet fast enough, could they do the same?”

“Very mad scientist of you, Pipsqueak. I like it.” Venus laughed, earning a scowl from the smallest planet.

“Didn’t we literally see a star corpse doing the same thing a few episodes ago?” Mars joined in, and Neptune tried to recall anything about the neuron star with the flashing radiation. 

“Yeah, but that’s a star. I want to know if a planet can do it.” Surprising the other rocky planet, the Earth also joined in. Seeing the stares thrown his way, the living planet frowned in mock offence. “What? Can’t a planet be curious? Mercury’s the one that suggested it!”

“It’s only recently that we’ve grasped the true scale of Sagittarius A*’s eruptions.” A rocket launch once again began to take place on the screen.

“Look, Uranus! Another one! Add it to the tally!” Neptune exclaimed in excitement, hoping it would cheer his friend up to see another rocket launch. He always reacted to the previous ones, even if he sounded a little moody at times. That’s just how Uranus is!

“Mate, it’s Caelus now! I already told you that!” The sharp rebuttal confused Neptune momentarily, unsure of what his cousin was referring to. Caelus? What’s a Caelus?

His blank expression must have lasted a few seconds too long, because Uranus looked far angrier all of a sudden. Neptune tried to sift through his memories, but he could barely pull ones from a few minutes ago, let alone however long ago this was told to him. Oh, was this something I really wasn't supposed to forget? Maybe Triton knows?

Before he could even try asking his moon, Uranus was in his face, glaring hard at him. “My new name! It was less than an hour ago! How have you already forgotten it?”

“I’m sorry, you know my memory can be a bit wild!” Neptune tried to joke. The name felt weird to picture next to his friend, like a wonky puzzle piece he couldn’t jam into place. Maybe making him laugh will fix this? “Caelus is a bit silly sounding, isn’t it? I much prefer Uranus!”

“Ugh! You dimwit!” Caelus, it seemed, was not in a laughing mood. “Why do I even try with you? Anything I say, you forget instantly! Anything I suggest, you argue or just ignore me! I bet you’ve already completely forgotten about my offer!”

“Offer?” This time, it was Larissa who spoke up. Neptune had completely forgotten his little moons were able to hear all of this. Oddly, the question seemed to throw more anger at Neptune.

“You haven’t even talked to them about it?” 

“About what?” Neptune was really starting to feel out of the loop now. Even Triton was giving him a weird look. Think, think!

“Bloody hell, mate! It’s like talking to an asteroid!” Caelus’ words further confused the blue ice giant. But, asteroids are fun to talk to! Why does he say that like a bad thing?

“Come now, Caelus, we can’t be too mad at him. He can’t help it.” Planet X’s deep voice flowed into the conversation like magma, stinging at Neptune’s core. “Some planets are just a bit…duh.”

“Hey!” Proteus surprised even Triton as he jumped in front of Planet X. “That’s mean! You said you wanted to help my planet!”

“Oh, of course I do, young Proteus.” Planet X smiled thinly at Neptune’s moon, churning his core anew. “And I’m sure a nice new orbit will help him immensely. But, right now, we need planets and moons we can rely on.”

“B-but…” Proteus considered the planet’s words, his brow furrowed with thought and his eyes swimming. Neptune wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug him, but he was feeling a bit stuck at the moment, like any movement would get him shouted at again. 

“Mate, I get what you’re saying and all, but don’t we need every planet we can get?” Caelus protested, his gaze turned firmly away from Neptune. “Even Neptune.”

“We need reliable planets, especially so early in our plan.” X insisted, turning a smug grin to Neptune. “And I’m sure when the time comes, we can recruit Neptune as well. I doubt he’ll remember any of this.”

As his grip tightened around his own hand almost painfully, Neptune fought down the urge to scowl, trying not to give X any reaction. As he stared, lost in the moment and trying desperately to commit it to memory, he realised the two planets had turned away. Both were back to facing the screen, leaving Neptune frozen and confused. A small nudge at his side drew his eye after a moment, or maybe it was longer than that? Neptune wasn’t sure, he wasn’t sure of a lot at the moment. 

“Neptune?” Triton was trying to make eye-contact with him, offering a rare smile when Neptune obliged. “Let’s move. We don’t need to stay here.”

Neptune raised his head. When did I lower it? His moons, even Proteus, were huddled around him still, looking between him and Triton with painful confusion. His oldest moon was indicting to the dwarf planets, where a few of them were already waving back at their friend. 

“Please can we move? I wanna meet Triton's club!” Galatea voiced, pulling lightly on Neptune’s leg. Casting his gaze across the rest of the moons, he saw relieved, excited agreement spread through them. Well, if my moons think it’ll be fun, I suppose it’s better than staying here?

“Okay.” His voice came out wrong, oddly quiet and soft, but none of his moons commented on it. They just bounded around him in excitement as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. Triton swiftly led the way, while Neptune brought up the rear, using the opportunity to count his moons, ensuring that all were accounted for. He caught Proteus casting a few glances back to X, but he never made any move to leave. At least he’ll be away from X for a bit, now. Maybe my core has a point about him, he didn’t seem very nice.

Chapter Text

“Hey, guys! What brings all of you over here?” Pluto greeted the huddle of moons, looking up to meet Neptune’s eyes with a questioning head tilt. Neptune wasn’t sure what his expression was doing right that second, and was far too confused to try and fix it; but watching Pluto’s eyes narrow in concern only heightened his unsettled feeling. 

“Just getting a change of scenery.” Triton answered instead, sharing an odd look with Pluto as he began to speak more quietly to his friend. Neptune was just glad he didn’t need to find a way to explain what had happened. I barely understand what happened myself…but I will remember it! I’ll at least try!

“Well, you’re all welcome to join us!” Charon grinned at the little ones as they ran up to her in greeting. “This corner is for everyone! We have plenty of space!”

The little moons surged forward to clamber up the bean bag, arguing for the limited space. A few of the dwarf planets were kind enough to adjust their seat to accommodate them, while the others just tolerated being climbed over. One in particular began to giggle uncontrollably as Neso tried to settle next to them. Luckily, Neso seemed to find this funny and not slightly creepy.

As his moons found new spots on and around the dwarf planet bean bag, Neptune was left standing awkwardly beside them. He definitely wouldn’t fit on the bean bag, and unfortunately there were no others nearby. Floor it is, I suppose. It can’t be that bad, that rocky planet has been sitting on the floor for almost two hours by now.

His form ached mildly as he settled down, folding his legs beneath him into a twisted cross, and he tried to focus on the screen again. His concentration was messy, turning back to pick at the already fuzzy memories of what happened with the ice giants, and Neptune shook his head in uncharacteristic frustration. It wasn’t often he wished for a better memory, but seeing the smug grin X had given him ignited a painful frustration in him. I’m not some thoughtless creature he can convince to his ends…whatever those are.

“Neptune?” A quiet whisper drew Neptune’s wandering concentration back to the present. Glancing down, he saw little Proteus had pushed up against him to speak close to his ear, and a small smile plastered itself onto Neptune’s face. 

“Hi, Proteus. Everything OK?” He asked softly, sensing that he’d come to him for a private word and not something to be overheard by the whole group. His moon fiddled anxiously with his hands, his gaze falling now that he had his planet’s attention.

“I-I just wanted to say sorry, for X and all that.” His moon quietly mumbled, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. Proteus lifted his head to continue more firmly. “I-I don’t know why he said that, he’s usually really nice! But I’ll make sure he’s not mean to you again!”

“Thank you, Proteus, but you don’t need to worry about that.” Neptune wasn’t sure what his moon saw in X, but clearly he was attached to him. If his little moon believed that the planet could change, then Neptune desperately hoped he was right. He’s so trusting, X would make a grave mistake if he took advantage of that. “I’m just glad you’ve made a friend!”

“Thanks, Neptune!” Proteus grinned at last, pressing himself against his planet as he settled down onto the ground next to Neptune. The blue ice giant gently picked the little moon up and deposited him onto his lap instead. Much more comfortable.

‘NASA Fermi Space Telescope’ appeared over the launch of the rocket. An Earthling voice claimed it was equipped with a gamma-ray telescope that was going to look for ‘unseen physics in the stars of the galaxies.’ 

“How many bloody space telescopes do they need?” Uranu-no, it was Caelus now, remember- muttered to himself. It was odd, not hearing his friend’s voice right beside him, and instead half the room lay between them.

“A lot. I think there’s at least 40+ floating around still.” Luna commented in reply, rolling his eyes. “And that’s just the active ones, tons more are deactivated and just clogging up the orbit.”

“Just over a decade ago, a completely unexpected discovery was made, likened to finding a brand-new continent here on Earth.” The rocket broke through the clouds and soared into space. “The Fermi Space Telescope was built to detect gamma-rays, the most energetic radiation in the Universe.” 

“Do they often find new continents?” Titan asked curiously. “It sounds like a pretty rare thing to happen.”

“It wasn’t that rare a while ago, because they couldn’t really see my whole surface like they can now.” Earth explained to the orange-green moon. “Though, ‘find’ is probably not the word for it, as there were usually other human Earthlings living there already.”

“Oh! It must have been exciting for them to find more Earthlings like them to be friends with!” Rhea added from her seat beside Titan. Earth and Luna shared a reluctant grimace before the living planet answered.

“Um, yeah, something like that…”

“As Fermi orbited the Earth, it constructed a map of the sky and saw, emerging from the plane of the Milky Way, two colossal bubbles of material, each 25,000 light years across.” The massive structures were hazy, but blatant against the dark background. 

“Wooh! What are they?” Deimos gasped, gazing at the vast clouds rising from the galaxy. 

“Well, if they were detected by a gamma-ray telescope, they must be something that emits radiation.” Makemake pondered, pressing a hand to his chin. “I imagine that ‘laser’ from earlier is involved as well.”

“These bubbles are superheated gas.” Brian was walking in the cold, rocky area still. “If our eyes were sensitive to the wavelengths of light emitted by those bubbles, they would span half the sky as seen from here on Earth. 

“Wait, why aren’t our eyes able to see it?” Neptune questioned, surprised that he had not considered this before. 

“The human Earthlings can’t see it because they had no need to evolve such a trait.” Jupiter began, frowning halfway through as he considered the question. “As for us…I’m not sure why we would be restricted to their limited vision wavelengths? It is certainly a mystery.”

“Great, so not only are we stuck in humanoid forms because of them, but even our eyes are as bad as theirs.” Europa complained with a huff. 

“And they point back to the centre of the galaxy. It looks like their origin is Sagittarius A*.” Brian was sitting on a rock, talking excitedly to the camera. “Think about that.”

“So it was the laser!” Ariel cheered, “I bet that massive laser heated up all that gas!”

“How is that creation, though?” Miranda questioned. “A massive amount of hot gas isn’t exactly interesting.” 

“Um, maybe don’t say that where the Sun can hear you, Miranda.” Oberon whispered to her, casting a nervous look at their resident ‘massive amount of hot gas’.

“Sagittarius A* is big but not big on a galactic scale. It would fit comfortably inside the orbit of Mercury in our Solar System.” 

“Yeah, no thanks.” Mercury grimaced at the idea. “I don’t want to imagine how massive that is next to me, thank you very much. I don’t care if it’s the smallest supermassive black hole in the Universe, I will always see it as too damn big.”

“True. Anything bigger than the Sun is far too large for me to comprehend.” Mars muttered his agreement, frowning at the screen. “Still, it’s mad to think that something with so much mass wouldn’t even reach Venus’ orbit, let alone mine.”

“Though our black hole is only a fraction of the size of the galaxy around it, it had become sculptor of the Milky Way.” The screen changed from rocky landscapes to a black hole charging with energy again, forming a now familiar beam. “Every few million years, the dense right of material circling our black hole was accelerated by twisting magnetic fields into fiery jets of superheated matter.”

“Oh, so it can only do the laser thing every once in a while?” Saturn summarised, a relieved expression crossing his face. “That’s good to know. I was worried for a second.”

“Dude, every few million years is still pretty often, at least by my standards.” Mars turned to Saturn with an exasperated expression. “Too often for a local laser.”

“It’s still better than a constant laser, though. You wouldn’t want that.” Mercury joined in, pondering the acceptable frequency of black hole lasers. I don’t even feel like the mad one anymore…what are they even going on about?

“Jets so powerful they stripped the atmospheres from any planets in their path.” A rocky world was being lit by a huge, bright light. More were seen, their atmospheres melting away under the beam. “And radiation rendered every Earth-like world within a thousand light-years uninhabitable.”

“...ouch?” The Earth broke the sudden silence hesitantly, trying for a joke. Judging by the deadpan looks, it wasn’t going well. Maybe I should make a joke too, to help?

“...” Just as Neptune was seriously considering it, he caught a glimpse of Caelus glancing his way. The sight choked any words before they could rise and the blue giant resided himself to staying silent. He turned away from his friend quickly, not wanting to be read like a book. He didn’t know what Caelus would see in his eyes, and that freaked him out far more than he’d thought it would. Neptune didn’t even know what he felt himself. Thoughts were always hard to grab but emotions were usually pretty easy. Now, however, it was the emotions that flicked and faded as he reached for them, only for them to reappear on the other side of his mind, even more powerful. Chasing them around was getting tiring, so Neptune let it go, letting the winds whip them into pieces he can try reassembling later.

“But such was the scale of Sagittarius A*’s outbursts, that far, far out in the galaxy, destruction turned to creation.” The galaxy as a whole was spinning on the screen, the massive beam rising from the centre. 

“Um, I’m not seeing the connection at all.” Ganymede frowned doubtfully. “How does a massive laser that heats up some gas billions of kilometres away cause creation?”

“M-maybe the g-gas is m-making new s-stars?” Io stammered his idea. “L-like those g-galaxy c-collisions from b-before!” 

“Hm, I don’t think the Earthling would be burying the lead like this if that was the case.” Callisto muttered lowly, scanning the screen critically.

“He’s burying what now?”

“If you’re looking for reasons why Life not only began here on Earth but was able to prosper for the almost four billion years it took for it to evolve into the complex living world that we see today, then it might seem a bit of a stretch to point to a supermassive black hole at the centre of our galaxy and say that’s one of the reasons why.” Brian was now sitting in a green, mossy forest, surrounded by thick plant life and rocks. 

“Yeah Brian, that is a bit of a stretch. What the Stars are you talking about?” Venus questioned the screen, his voice dripping with disbelief. 

The room began casting curious looks at the living planet, waiting for an explanation of some kind. The Earth’s expression was equally as perplexed, his own gaze turning to the Sun.

“I-I don’t know anything either!” The star protested. “I didn’t even know the black hole was doing that, let alone how it impacts one of my planets!”

“Okay, so either Brian has gone completely mad, or these Earthlings know something we don’t.” Pluto spoke up with a thoughtful tone. 

“What else is new?” Eris muttered beside him sarcastically. 

“But we’re now beginning to suspect that those great outpourings of energy from Sagittarius A* played a crucial role in making this region of the galaxy one in which Life can flourish. Because the hot gas ejected by Sagittarius A* had a calming effect on the galaxy.” The camera was watching a stream ripple past.

“Calming effect? I can’t see why getting hit by hot laser gas would calm anything down.” Triton muttered, sitting beside Neptune on the floor. His oldest had positioned himself halfway between Neptune and the bean bag now crowded by his little moons, watching both groups with occasional glances. I wish he would relax a bit…but I suppose that’s a bit much to ask after we just voluntarily removed ourselves from our assigned seat.

“Maybe it makes stars sleepy?” Charon suggested, her voice doubtful even as she said it. 

“Like drugs?” Quaoar asked, receiving a litany of confused looks. “What?”

“What are you talking about, dude?” Pluto questioned incredulously.

"D-drug?" The dark dwarf planet giggled out, only to be gently shushed by Charon.

"Don't listen to them, Ceres. Quaoar is saying silly things again, that's all."

“Now, you might think that a hot gas cloud would produce more stars, but, in fact, the opposite is true, because…” He explained that because the gas was hot, it had more energy to escape gravity, making it harder for massive amounts of gas to collapse into a star. “...So Sagittarius A* reduced the number of stars that formed in this region of the galaxy. And that’s a good thing.”

“A-ah, so m-my i-idea was w-wrong.” Io pouted, turning a quick grin to Callisto. “I-I g-guess you w-were right a-about the b-burying!”

“So the gas is star birth-control?” Earth’s odd words flew right over Neptune’s head and he was glad to see similar confusion reflected in his fellow celestials. 

“Earth, I’m not even gonna ask.” The Sun sighed with an exaggerated expression of suffering. “Though, I am curious to know why the Earthlings consider less stars to be a good thing?”

“I mean, we already know that being in a multi star system makes Life hard to imagine, so maybe they’re referring to that?” Jupiter offered with a considering frown, “Though, it would be a bit repetitive if they just re-explained that.”

“Imagine if there was some giant star that had formed close by that exploded into a supernova explosion.” Brian emphasized to the camera. “That would not be a good thing if you’re an amoeba and you have designs one day on evolving into Einstein.”

“Isn’t that Einstein guy just one Earthling? Why would an amoeba have them as a goal?” Mercury questioned in confusion.

“Maybe they’re a very special kind of Earthling? I mean, it sounds like they did a lot of science stuff, and that amoeba wanted to be a scientist?” Mars suggested uncertainty.

“Stop being dumb, guys.” Venus interrupted with a dismissive voice. “Clearly, this Ensign guy is the pinnacle of all Life, and that’s why the Earthling said that.”

The Earth, watching, just rolled his eyes with a laugh before turning to the Sun instead.

“Wait, nearby stars going supernova can affect us?” Earth’s voice wavered slightly, a disturbed expression crossing his face. 

“Um, well, yes. If a big star was that close, its radiation would certainly vaporise your atmosphere.” The Sun explained reluctantly, before adding in a more reassuring tone upon seeing the living world’s worried expression. “But, we don’t need to worry about it! The closest star to us is only a little guy, he won’t ever go supernova. And Betelgeuse would have to be very specifically oriented to hit us with their radiation.”

“Nice to know, I guess?” The living planet didn’t look terribly reassured, but the star didn’t seem to have anything else to offer. “It really is lucky that our black hole prevented too many stars in this area, then.”

“I suppose…” The star considered the words carefully, his gaze wandering back to the screen with a thoughtful, conflicted expression.

“So, Sagittarius A* turned what is potentially a violent region of our galaxy into a peaceful one.” Brian smiled at the idea. “The warm gases pushed out by Sagittarius A* slowed the rate of star formation.” 

Neptune was heartened to see that black holes were not all bad news. It felt strange, or at least short-sighted, to label a whole celestial type as evil merely for existing, but clearly the others needed to see examples of the opposite to be convinced. Sure, it was a pretty detached sort of help, but the black hole did help them. And thanks to it, the area was calm and everyone got to keep their atmospheres! I would look very silly without an atmosphere!

“It feels strange to thank a black hole for anything, but if the Earthlings are right, we should be quite grateful.” Pluto commented to the dwarf planet group. “If more stars were nearby, we definitely would've been the first ones sling-shot away into the cosmos when they got too close.”

“That is true!” Makemake considered, smiling at his friend excitedly. “Oh, these Earthlings are truly amazing at unpacking the wonders of this galaxy! I’ll miss it once we’re back in orbit!”

It would certainly be jarring to return to orbit again, after another long stretch of time away from it. Returning that first time had been hard enough, but at least he’d had that important conversation with Triton and no real weight left on his gravity. This time, he would be returning to an orbit between Caelus and Planet X, which sounded like a bad idea at the moment. Maybe I should’ve stayed over there, just so I’d get used to it quicker? But, no, then my moons would’ve wanted to stay too, and they don’t need to be around that. Anyway, it's fine here, even if I don't really know these dwarf planets very well. They do seem friendly!

“And, around one small yellow star in a quiet region at the unfashionable end of the outer spiral arms of the galaxy,” The screen fell upon a shrouded rocky planet, clouds touching the mountainous surface. Softly, rain could be heard falling. “Four billion years of stability made all the difference.” The music swelled as a small life form was highlighted in murky waters, small and round.

“The ‘unfashionable’ bit was unnecessary.” Saturn hummed, “I think our area is perfectly lovely! I mean, look what it created!”

“You have a point, Saturn.” The Sun mused, his eyes still trained on the screen as the clouds swept over the rocky hills. “And as much as I dislike being called ‘small’, I must agree with the Earthling and admit that our living world would not be nearly as prosperous had our black hole not done what it did.”

Surprised mutters skittered across the room as planets, moons, and dwarf planets turned to each other. The Sun still held a reluctant air about him, but it was enough to give Neptune some hope that his star would at least consider seeing black holes as more than voids of destruction. Their vast, mysterious existence was too amazing to simply write off as something so broad as evil. And the Sun seemed far more determined than most to see only the bad in black holes; which rang as a bit hypocritical to Neptune, but he wasn't about to call the star out for it. I get the sense that would not go well.

Brian appeared back on the screen, climbing up some rocks above the forest he’d been in to stand at the top and look out over the living planet’s surface. “Now, of course, there are many things that are necessary for Life to exist on a planet.” 

“And we apparently have to keep hearing about it.” Venus rolled his eyes towards the ceiling with a huff of boredom. 

“Well, I remember you being pretty interested in that stuff a while ago.” Mercury smirked at the cloudy planet, who froze in his seat. “Oh, wait, that wasn’t because you were actually interested, was it? That was because-”

“Shut it, Pipsqueak, before I snap your tiny legs and throw you into the Sun!” Venus hissed furiously as he interrupted the smallest planet. Surprisingly, Mercury didn’t react to the threat with fear. Instead, he merely shrugged and turned back to the screen.

“Wow, I can’t imagine why she didn’t pick you.”

“The list is unimaginably vast, but I think it is interesting that on that list there is the presence of this strange object, a black hole, Sagittarius A*, tens of thousands of light-years away.” Brian had sat down on the rock, the rolling hills in the background. “The centre of our galaxy.”

“So, on top of everything else Life needs to not only start, but stay around long enough to evolve cool stuff; a black hole that creates lasers of hot gas is also needed.” Titan’s dismay was leaking into his voice. “Um, how rare is Life supposed to be again? Because it honestly sounds like a 1/1,000,000 chance at this point.”

“The Earthlings don’t really have a good enough grasp on all the variables involved yet, but it’s actually looking like the likelihood of Life in the Universe is increasing.” Earth assured the moon. “‘Cause so many smaller stars are being born as the Universe ages, there’s a higher chance of living planets being able to survive around them.”

“Yeah, but now they have to add supermassive black holes to the equation.” Luna considered doubtfully. “If they ever manage to make a calculation that takes everything into account, I’ll be thoroughly impressed.” 

“Having cleared out much of the gas, dust, and stars that once lay close by, there was little left to feast on.” The black hole was back, flashing with energy. “Our black hole fell silent. The enormous bubbles spotted by Fermi, echoes of a glorious past.” 

“Oh, is it not making lasers anymore?” Neptune frowned, oddly disappointed by the idea that he’d missed his chance to see such a thing. I was hardly going to see it anyway. The Sun would throw a fit if any of his planets decided to go wander the void to visit a black hole.

“Does that mean it doesn't eat anyone anymore?” Larissa asked curiously. 

“Nah, it definitely still eats things. It ate that asteroid at the beginning, remember?” Galatea reminded her fellow moon. Neptune let his gaze linger on his satellites, quickly counting them just to be sure. Thankfully, Proteus had not snuck off again. Instead, he was sitting with an odd sullenness to him, head resting on his arms over the edge of Neptune’s lap. Watching his eyes, Neptune could pinpoint where his moon’s mind was. Planet X…I wish I knew what that planet said to my moon.

“Today, Sagittarius A* is a sleeping giant, a brooding beast, operating on a slow simmer.” The black hole glowed huge across the screen. “Sagittarius A*’s journey from violent destroyer to sculptor of the galaxy to the sleeping giant that we see today has been pieced together over the last 20 years by observational data from telescopes such as Chandra and Fermi.”

“Just 20 years, and they found all of that…” Planet X’s deep voice mused with an approving tone. “Very impressive, I must say. For such small things.”

“Yes, the Earthlings are truly amazing at such things.” Jupiter agreed with a smile, glancing back at X hopefully. “Maybe I can lend you some books I’ve read from them? They are fantastic writers as well!”

Planet X didn’t seem to know what to make of this offer, his face twitching slightly before settling on an expression of neutral interest. “I’m sure you’ll have to remind me.”

“But there’s a very big difference indeed between knowing how a black hole interacts with its environment, how it sculpts a galaxy, and what it actually is at a deep level.” Brian was in a dark cave, water dripping from the roof. “What is it really like inside?”

“Very dense? Probably pretty dark? I thought we went over this already?” Venus sneered the question at the screen.

“That doesn’t tell us what actually happens to the molecules that enter the event horizon.” Mars countered, turning a disapproving look to Venus. “What happens to all that mass? Is it just added to the total, and if it is, what happens next?”

“Does something have to happen next?” Mercury sounded confused as he spoke. “Maybe everything ends after it enters the black hole?”

“That would definitely be breaking something in physics, I fear.” Saturn worried his hands on his lap as he watched the screen.

“Black holes challenge the most basic principle about the predictability of the Universe and the certainty of history.” The Hawking voice was back, replacing Brian. “Nothing can get out of a black hole, or so it was thought.”

“Stuff is getting out?” Oberon sat up straighter, his curious eyes refocusing on the screen. “How?”

“That is the question, I suppose.” Titania muttered ideally at his side, fiddling with a loose thread from their bean bag. Her gaze wasn’t wandering back to the screen, however, it was wandering over to Neptune and his moons. Specifically, she seemed to be trying to communicate with Triton. Turning his head to watch, Neptune saw his oldest was mouthing something back.

“Proteus, do you know why Titania and Triton are talking?” He asked quietly, not wanting to disturb them but still painfully curious. Proteus shifted his gaze to study the two briefly before returning with a simple reply.

“Moon club stuff! Don’t worry about it, Neptune!” Proteus smiled reassuringly at his planet, and Neptune did want to trust him…but he was still far too curious. They’ll tell me eventually…maybe?

‘A few million years in the future’ faded over the image of a barren, dark, rocky planet’s surface. Brian’s voice was back. “It’s by looking into the future that we’re beginning to explore the deep mystery of black holes.”

“I do wonder what will happen to the black holes, you know, in the future.” Neptune pondered out loud, hoping maybe this time he’d be able to get a positive response from this new group of celestials. Except, that sounded like a silly thing to want, given the kind of things he usually says. Maybe I’ll just get the same responses, just from new people? Weighing that against staying silent, it still won. “They can’t just endlessly grow, that would break physics…as far as I know. And I don't know much, so could that actually be what happens? Or maybe they shrink?”

“It’s certainly a fascinating topic to speculate on!” Makemake, the pink-ish dwarf planet that now found himself squashed between Galatea and Sao, replied with an upbeat tone. “Given that the Earthling mentioned something escaping from a black hole, I predict they have found some way that black holes may shrink! But, then again, I have been wrong before!”

“I think you might be right, actually.” Neptune smiled back, surprised to have received a new theory to consider in response to his own. “A whole Universe of endless black holes would be a bit silly, I suppose.”

“Not silly at all! All theories are on the table till we can disprove them, so yours could be right in the end!” Makemake insisted to the ice giant. Neptune wasn’t sure what to make of this.

“But we can’t really prove any of them, can we?” Neptune questioned, wondering what conditions or equations he’d have to run to work something like that out.

“Well, I’m sure the Earthlings have given it a go. Maths can prove a lot of things, surprisingly.” 

“Yeah, it can!” Neptune grinned widely in an odd rush of excitement. 

“Dozens of stars orbit around Sagittarius A*.” A star flew past the screen, joining others as they seemed to spin around nothing. “Some passing just a few billion miles from the event horizon. A hair’s breadth on galactic scales.”

“N-not a n-nice o-orbit. N-not at a-all!” Io shivered at the idea of being so close to an invisible void. 

“Do you reckon they know how close they are to it?” Europa asked her fellow moons. “I mean, they can’t really see it, can they?”

“They might be able to see the debris surrounding it?” Kore spoke up, leaning down from Jupiter’s bean bag to speak to her major moon. “Especially if it’s super hot!”

“OK, so they can only vaguely see this massive hole in space, and they have to orbit it forever, knowing they could be eaten by it at any time?” Ganymede summarized with a disturbed expression. “Nope, I’d move. I don’t care what physics says, I would not stay in that orbit!” 

“What, you’d defy the laws of our Universe out of pure fear?” Callisto teased. “And I thought you were supposed to be the largest moon in the system? What a shame.”

“Cut it out, Callisto. You’d do the same!” But the dark moon only smirked in reply, furrowing Ganymede’s brow further.

“These flybys could have fatal consequences.” One star filled the screen, a massive blue star called S2, and as they moved, a small planet was revealed beside it. “Some of these stars will likely have planets in orbit.”

“...oh, no.” The Sun’s quiet mutter under his breath was drowned out by the excited exclamations of Mars’ moons.

“WOOH! That’s a BIG star!” Phobos grinned as the blue star floated past the screen. 

“Those planets are so lucky, getting a BLUE star!” Deimos added, jumping on his planet’s bean bag. 

“Wait, aren’t blue stars dangerous for some reason?” Phobos frowned in thought, trying to recall when he’d heard that.

“Maybe, but the coolness factor beats whatever the downside is!” Deimos insisted. Mars sighed a long suffering sigh, rolling his eyes at the moons’ antics.

“The downside is getting melted by radiation, guys.” The red planet corrected, but his moons weren’t listening, judging by the excited muttering Neptune could still hear. 

“Planets that may stray too close to the beast. A moth to a flame.” The rocky world began to approach the black hole. “Pulled from its parent star towards the abyss.”

“I-I can’t imagine how that poor star feels, watching its planet disappear....” Saturn sympathised, pulling a hand up to cover his mouth in dismay. “And not being able to do anything to stop it.”

“I doubt the planet is feeling much better about it, Saturn.” Earth returned, also watching the scene with trepidation. 

The gazes of the room were firmly trained on the small rocky world as it approached the black hole, hands coming up to shield the eyes of younger moons. At the front, the Sun was holding very still, unnaturally so. Faint wisps of steam rose from him intermittently. Jupiter had gotten a hold of Saturn’s hand, gently grasping it as his friend struggled to watch the events unfold. 

Neptune’s own thoughts were trying very hard to stay positive. He really didn’t want to try imagining how either of them felt, it would kind of ruin the calm he’d been carefully balancing on since he left Caelus’ side. If his friend was here, maybe he would’ve loosened the iron grip, just a bit, because he knew just talking to Uranus would instantly pull his mood out of whatever pit he fell into. No, it’s Caelus now! He told you, remember! You have to remember this!

In his distraction, he realised he’d failed to cover any of his little moons’ eyes. Proteus, the only moon in range at the moment, pushed his hand down firmly but gently as he tried to correct his oversight. Triton seemed to have gotten S/2002 N 5 and S/2021 N 1 covered, but the rest were perfectly able to witness this poor planet get eaten by a black hole. Neptune felt like he was making a mistake, but also a bit cautiously proud . I suppose they’ll have to see this stuff at some point, especially with how many of these we’ve watched already. I can’t protect them forever, as much as I want to.

“If the planet survives its journey inwards, and we could stand on its surface and look out into the Universe beyond, we would see space and time becoming increasingly distorted.” Stars warped and span above the rocky world, moving so rapidly that soon the sky was bright white. 

“Um, kind of a trippy view.” Quaoar hummed in dismay, eyeing the swirling lights warily. 

“Not what I expected a celestial to see before death, I’ll admit.” Pluto grimaced at the blinding light, trying to see past it at the rocky surface below.

“Would they really see the stars move like that?” Larissa questioned, her wide eyes trained on the screen. “It’s so pretty!”

“I…I have no idea.” Triton admitted, reluctantly voicing his own limited grasp of the situation. “Ask Makemake? Or Neptune?”

“Don’t throw this on me, my friend.” Makemake joked, an awkward smile lighting his face as Larissa turned her gaze to him. “That question is far beyond my understanding of black holes, unfortunately.”

“Oh.” Larissa’s disappointed sigh lingered for only a second before she swung her curious gaze to her last victim. Neptune quickly took to scrambling through his memories for anything he could offer the questioning moon. He'd often found that his moons tolerated a far longer wait-time for his words than most, but he didn't want to risk it right now. 

“Um…I suppose if you got close enough to the black hole, space and time would become so warped and messed up that space becomes time? I don’t know how to explain it.” Neptune drew deeper, trying to find the words that would help her understand. “You’d be going so fast that everything ahead of you is the past, and everything behind is the future.”

“Oh! So all the stars would move around like that!” Larissa grinned, and Neptune reluctantly kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t completely sure what would happen, but if his moon liked this outcome he wasn’t going to spoil it. It’s not like we’ll get the chance to actually check, I suppose. Might as well pick our favourite idea.

“But eventually, tidal gravitational forces become too strong.” The planet was slowly ripped apart, drawn out into dust fragments that fell into the black hole. “Inexorably, the singularity awaits. The end of time, where all paths terminate.”

Following Brian’s ominous words and the sudden darkening of the screen, the room seemed reluctant to speak. Watching a planet, even a hypothetical one from a distant system, get torn to shreds and drawn into the void of the black hole was disturbing at best and outright nauseating at worst. Barely more than sprinkles of rock remained of the original celestial, every drop eaten by the unfathomable hole in the Universe.

“...they call it spaghettification, if anyone is interested?” The living planet’s quiet nugget of information returned a litany of incredulous expressions. Earth grinned sheepishly, shoulders rising at the sudden stares.

“That…is an unbelievably silly name.” Surprisingly, it was the Sun who spoke the words, turning a tired but fond look at the green-blue world. Indulging the chatty planet, he asked, “Why do they call it that, then?”

“Where to start? You guys don’t know what spaghetti is, do you?” At the sea of blank faces, the living word nodded to himself. “Well, Earthlings make this stuff called spaghetti and it gets drawn out into-” 

Neptune let the Earth’s words fade out of focus. He wanted to know more about this spaghetti stuff, he always enjoyed learning new things, but his mind already felt too full to pile more information on top. He needed to be careful not to accidentally drop the memories he really, really needed to keep. Gently coaxing the fragments into place, he ran through it one more time, just to be extra sure. OK, it started when I made a mistake. I said something wrong…was it the name? Or forgetting the plan? And earlier, he was already annoyed, why was that? Did I do that too? Was it something I said? If I apologize, will that fix things? …maybe not. I might have to do that ‘plan’. But…I don’t even know what that was? Ugh, why is everything already slipping away!

‘Trillions of years in the future’ appeared under the image of the galaxy. “Over trillions of years, all the stars around Sagittarius A* will gradually fade and die.” The sky around a collection of rocky worlds was dark, barely a red dwarf in sight. “On more and more alien worlds, the dawn will fail to come.”

“Lovely reminder, Brian, thanks.” Caelus’ eyes flashed with a brief fear, watching the stars fade and leave dark, cold planets alone in the void. 

“I-hope we-sleep. After. Awake-all that-time will-drive planets-mad.” The quiet, broken voice of one of the dwarf planets caught Neptune’s ear. 

His first thought was to hope his little moons didn’t hear that; they didn’t need to ponder such things. But, his second thought was to disagree, surprising even himself. He was well aware that no planet in this room would agree with him, but he didn’t want to simply fade away into a deep sleep with the Sun’s light. He barely felt it at the best of times, losing it would have more of an effect on his gravity than warmth or light. The dark was already his reality, roaming it for eternity hardly sounded different from now. Sure, he'd want an end, at some point, but not so soon. And, by remaining awake and aware, he might discover more things. See new sights, meet new rogue planets, or even a black hole. Missing that felt scarier than waiting for it.

“But our supermassive monster will go on, its secrets sealed away inside. Seemingly forever.” The black hole warped and spun, wider than the screen. “We predict that one day black holes will be all that remains in the Universe. The final Dark Age.”

“So, the Universe will be an empty darkness full of rogue planets, moons, star corpses, and black holes?” Mercury muttered disquietly, shivering at the thought. “You know what, I’m kind of glad I’m missing that, honestly.”

“I mean, from the sounds of it, they predict that most of the other stuff is getting eaten by the black holes anyway.” Mars pointed out to his fellow rocky planet. “So, we’ll probably end up dead anyway, either by the Sun or a black hole.”

“I’m not sure which sounds worse!” Luna grimaced from his seat next to Earth. “I wish the Earthlings weren’t so unsure about how far the Sun’s red giant form will stretch.”

“Ah, that just means it’ll be a surprise.” The Earth hummed passively, shooting his moon a joking grin. “Flip a coin. Heads, death by Sun. Tails, death by black hole.”

“What the Stars is a coin…and why does it have a tail?”

The camera slowly turned around some strange Earthling stones, stacked into intricate but dilapidated patterns. “If nothing can ever escape from black holes, if Sagittarius A* really is an eternal prison, then this is the end of the story of the Universe. Darkness littered with holes in space time.”

“Pretty lousy end.” Ganymede muttered lowly, his eyes falling over the strange structures behind Brian. 

“Y-yeah! I-I don’t w-wanna i-imagine n-nothing but b-black h-holes for t-the rest o-of t-time!” Io stammered, his hands waving anxiously in front of him. “O-oh…I-I’m gonna h-have s-so m-many n-nightmares a-after t-this!”

Ignoring the volcanic moon’s complaints, Ganymede turned to the resident Earthling experts with a question. “What kind of building is he standing by? And why doesn't it have a roof?”

“Oh, it’s supposed to have a roof, it just doesn't anymore.” Earth laughed, pointing to the building on screen. “It looks like an old church or abbey to me, so it’s fallen into disrepair now that it’s at least 1300+ years old. I don’t think any human is living in it anymore.” 

“The Earthling buildings start falling apart that quickly?” Dione questioned with a dismayed frown. “That doesn’t sound very long at all.”

“Ah, most buildings fall apart way faster than that.” The Earth corrected, waving one hand dismissively. “That’s probably one of the better preserved ones from its time.”

“But we don’t think this is the end of the story.” Brian was walking beside the ruins, following the camera. “We now believe that even black holes die. And their deaths come at the hands of what might seem an inconsequential detail discovered almost five decades ago.” 

It was almost a relief to hear that even black holes would eventually fade. As much as he was not racing towards it with any enthusiasm, being able to stop existing should be something a celestial will at least eventually reach. Being forced to exist for an eternity would not be a fair fate for the hypothetical consciousness within the black hole, especially given how cut off they are from the rest of the galaxy. But then, maybe black holes are more immune to space-madness? And would not actually mind an eternal life? Well, I guess we won’t know until we talk to one!

“Wait, I thought they only found black holes two decades ago?” Titan turned to the living planet in confusion. “And now they realise they'd worked out their deaths three decades before?”

“They predicted black holes back then too, they just hadn’t actually found proof of one in the real world.” Earth pointed out with a proud grin. “They used maths! They probably used maths to find the cause of death as well!”

“In 1975, Stephen Hawking published a remarkable paper in which he showed that black holes are not completely black.” Brian now stood within the ruins, sunlight streaming through the wide windows. “They glow faintly. They have a temperature.”

“A temperature? That means radiation!” Makemake grinned, and to Neptune’s surprise, turned to him excitedly. “It appears that the Earthlings have found a way to shrink black holes! If they can lose mass, even if only a tiny amount, then they can eventually fade entirely!”

“Yes!” Neptune felt almost infected by Makemake’s enthusiasm for this. It felt so odd to be the one listening to another ramble about maths, instead of being the rambler. It doesn’t feel as bad as I thought it would, given how Uranus used to react- wait, no, Caelus, Neptune! Stop messing up.

“That does beg the question of how the mass is even being lost.” Makemake continued, his hand resting on his chin as he considered the problem. 

“If not even light can escape, how can any mass be leaving? It would need to be something that never crosses the event horizon.” Neptune voiced aloud, trying to scour his mind for anything that might fit. Something that could reduce the mass of the black hole, but never fall in…? 

“And here’s his beautiful equation for the temperature of a black hole.” Brian began writing out a series of letters and equation symbols. “And you can see that there’s something deep going on because this has got all of physics in it.” 

Neptune squinted at the screen, trying to read the equation as Brian wrote it. Oh, to get a hold of that paper! Or, I could try and write it down? No…that would mean asking Caelus for paper, and I don’t want to keep annoying him with maths. 

“Beautiful is not the word usually used for an equation.” Venus grimaced at the screen as Brian continued to add more and more letters to the sheet. “If half the equation is letters, I’m not interested.”

“Are you just admitting you can’t do basic maths?” Mercury teased, darting back quickly when the cloudy planet swung at him. 

“Does that look like basic maths to you?”

“With this thing here, h-bar, it’s Planck’s constant and that’s to do with quantum mechanics, a subatomic world.” He pointed out two of the letters in the numerator. “C is the speed of light.”

“Um, I think I understood that last bit?” Ariel tilted her head at the screen in bemusement. “I know what the speed of light is…but why is it a c?”

“You know what the speed of light is?” Miranda repeated doubtfully. “What is it then?”

“Isn’t it just how fast light goes?” Ariel’s confusion only grew when Miranda’s expression fell into a grin of amusement. “What? Do you want the number? Uh…a bazillion mph, that’s my answer!”

“Close enough.” Miranda laughed, nudging Umbriel who was scribbling something on one of Caelus’ stray papers. The silent moon handed it insistently to Ariel, who read it with a growing annoyance.

“OK, I was a little off, 670,616,629 mph is a bit different from a bazillion.” Ariel admitted reluctantly, then glared at Umbriel. “But the swearing was unnecessary, and you didn’t have to mention my hair.” 

“I’m still stuck on that first bit. What does he mean by a ‘subatomic world’?” Oberon piped up, looking up at Titania and Caelus. Both celestials appeared highly reluctant to weigh in on the subject. 

“Um, maybe try asking N-” Caelus cut himself off, and Neptune felt his form freeze at the quick look thrown his way. Oberon was still waiting, but didn’t receive a new answer, so the icy moon just settled down again with a sigh.

“G is the strength of gravity.” He moved to the denominator, pointing to the letters as he spoke. “This kB here is Boltzmann’s constant, that’s to do with temperature and thermodynamics. And this M here is the mass of the black hole.”

“Why have they filled this equation with letters? I thought letters were for words?” Charon frowned at the mess of letters and symbols on the screen. 

“The letters are place-holders, I think.” Neptune replied, trying to commit the equation to memory. “They just tell you what number needs to go where, depending on what you’re using the equation on. I usually just make up silly symbols, but the Earthlings really seem to love using letters instead!”

“Oh! Have you written equations before?” Makemake turned to Neptune with a curious expression, studying the ice giant more closely. The sudden interest caught Neptune off guard and spread embarrassment around his core.

“Um, a few, yeah. But nothing as lovely as that one!” He pointed to the screen, hoping to get back to staring at it. But instead, Triton turned to Makemake as well, waving half-heartedly behind him at his planet.  

“Yeah, he’s got like a book's worth.” Triton mentioned off-handily, surprising Neptune further when he added, “They’re scattered around on asteroids in our orbit, so you’ll have to help us round them up some time. You guys can nerd out about them, and I can take the kids to Moon club.”

“Well, that sounds like a fun idea to me!” Makemake actually sounded interested, which was weird, because only Neptune ever found those equations fun. He hadn't even been aware that Triton knew about them. Neptune didn’t know what to make of this, so he just passively nodded and turned back to the screen, trying not to implode with excitement.

“It’s even got circles because it’s got a Pi in it.” He pointed again at the sheet. 

“What?” The Sun asked bluntly. “Sometimes I think your Earthlings are actually half-understandable, then they say stuff like that and I’m back to square one.”

“I thought pies were a food?” Luna questioned. “Are they circles? Is it some kind of joke?”

The Earth was struggling not to laugh, his shoulders drawn up to suppress an amused giggle. His moon and star returned thoroughly unamused glares. “Guys, it’s Pi, not pie!”

“I think Earth’s gone insane.” Enceladus muttered. “It was bound to happen, I suppose.”

“No, I’m- I’m not insane, it’s just two different spellings! This would make sense if we had subtitles on!” The Earth exclaimed in mild frustration as he tried to explain without more laughter. “P-I is the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter, so humans use it to work out the size of circles. P-I-E is a food that also happens to be in the shape of a circle.”

“Well, that’s just unnecessarily complicated.” The Sun huffed.

“Hawking’s conclusion proved to be irrefutable, and the implications are huge.” Brian continued to explain. “If something has a temperature, then it radiates. That’s why if you put your hand near something that’s hot, you can feel it.”

“Wow, mind blowing observation there, Brian.” Venus rolled his eyes. “Next he’ll tell us if we stick our hand in the Sun, it will hurt.”

“You will not be sticking your hands anywhere near me! Or in me!” The star protested in offence.

“What kind of radiation is it, though?” Neptune couldn’t help but ask, hoping that Brian would explain or at least give some kind of hint. It has to be something testable, if the Earthlings think it’s irrefutable. But, what kind of mass can be lost over an inescapable barrier? Or am I thinking of this in the wrong way? Mass and energy are connected, I know that. So maybe I should be thinking of this as an energy exchange problem?

“And so over timescales that are billions and billions and billions and billions of times longer than the current age of the Universe, Sagittarius A* will eventually evaporate away.” 

“Will the big ones take longer to go away?” Proteus asked, his eyes trained on the image of a black hole on the screen. 

“I’d imagine so. If the radiation is coming from the event horizon, as Neptune suggested, then simple Surface Area to Volume ratios would imply that smaller ones erode quicker?” Makemake suggested thoughtfully.

“Maybe! Or the lower gravity of a black hole with less mass might allow this radiation to escape quicker? It would really depend on the mechanism that's allowing the radiation to actually escape.” Neptune joined in, enjoying this opportunity to theorize on such things. “We’d have to find a way to measure this temperature the Earthlings think it’s emitting, and see if small ones are hotter than the big ones! I expect that would be the case!”

“Well, that is certainly a goal, I suppose.” Pluto looked bemused, casting his gaze between Makemake and Neptune. “I think introducing you two is going to give me even more of a core-ache than usual.”

The tone didn’t sound mean. He didn’t even sound annoyed. Pluto was actually smiling, pretty happily as far as Neptune could tell. But…he doesn’t like maths, and now his friend is caught up talking to me about maths…wouldn’t that annoy him? 

Then again, he’s not even upset that his friend is making new friends, so maybe he’s just a better celestial than me in general. That sounded more likely, given how kindly Pluto had allowed them to intrude on their space. The dwarf planet had always been so kind. I wish my core would stop getting so worked up about X, Caelus deserves another friend, especially one that can talk to him about stuff he actually likes, doesn't forget everything he says, and isn’t jealous for no real reason. 

But is it for no real reason? Neptune really wasn’t sure anymore. He knew the look in X’s eyes as they’d left, but other than that he couldn’t find any solid memory to point to and say ‘this guy is mean’. But, his core never failed to boil whenever he saw or heard the planet speak. Why do I feel this way? Am I forgetting something again? 

“Very gradually, the Hawking radiation will erode Sagittarius A*.” The black hole was on screen, a strange red mist rising from it slowly. “Smaller and smaller. Until many trillions and trillions of years into the future, in a final burst of light, our black hole will die. And then there will be darkness. For all eternity.”

“At least it gets to light up for a bit, even if only at the end.” Saturn consoled himself, a soft, sad smile gracing his face as they watched the void turn into one final brightness for the Universe to witness.

“Even at the end, it is still a star.” Jupiter’s deep voice seemed to settle on the room heavily, subduing any mutterings. The Sun’s eyes widened at the words, his mouth opening to protest, before he froze, considering the words as the room was lit by the black hole’s death.

“Then, I-I’m glad it got to shine, one last time.” The star’s words were quiet and careful, his posture stiff and face a mask of calm. “No star deserves to die in darkness, even less so one of the First Ones.”

“Now, you may say, quite legitimately, ‘well, why do we care? Why does it matter if black holes evaporate away some time in the far, far future of the Universe? There’ll be nobody around to see it.’” Brian quoted, before continuing with his response. He was sitting on the floor of the ruins, a dark tunnel of arches stretching behind him. “But the discovery that black holes evaporate raises what I think is the most profound question in the history of physics, certainly over the last hundred years, and that’s no exaggeration.”

“I think black holes themselves seem like a pretty profound question all by themselves, regardless of evaporation.” Titan commented, his face drawn in confusion. “I’ll be honest, he lost me a while ago with all this physics stuff.”

“I don’t think he ever had me at all. I’ve been thoroughly confused this entire time.” Tethys admitted, an embarrassed expression crossing his face. “How long has this been going on for? I want to understand things again soon, please.”

“See, what happens if I set fire to this piece of paper?” Brian grabbed the paper he’d written the lovely equation on, and held a small stick with fire on the end to it. “With Stephen Hawking’s equation written on it, I cause it to evaporate away.”

Neptune thought he might cry. Watching that fascinating equation be eaten away by the fire, while his own memory was still struggling to reform it in his mind, and having no way to preserve it otherwise. I should've just asked for that paper! Awkwardness has never stopped me before, why did it now? 

His face must have given something of his thoughts away, because Proteus waved a hand into his field of view quite insistently. Neptune glanced down, wiping any remaining frustration away in favour of a smile. “Hi, Proteus!”

“Hi!” The moon giggled, then continued, “Don’t worry, we can just ask Earth’s moon for the equation later! Luna is really helpful like that!”

“Oh. Really?” Neptune hadn’t even considered going to the source. Obviously, the Earth would have access to the equation, the ones who wrote it were literally crawling all over him. “That would be great! If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Yeah! I’ll ask him about it at the next meeting!” Proteus promised, grinning up at his planet. Neptune could only wonder what he’d done to deserve such amazingly thoughtful moons. 

“Do I destroy everything?” Brian asked, holding the now on fire paper away from his body. “Do I remove every piece of information, including the equation, from the Universe when it burns away?”

“Um, it certainly looks like you do.” Mars eyed the burning paper warily. “I definitely can’t read that mess anymore, that’s for sure.”

“I think he’s talking about the history of the particles themselves, not the paper.” Mercury suggested thoughtfully. “Like, one of those laws of physics everyone keeps saying black holes break.”

“Well, the answer is no.” Brian faced the camera, dropping the ruins of the paper to the stone floor. “If I could collect every ash, every molecule of gas that burns off into the atmosphere, then in principle I could reconstruct the piece of paper and everything it contains. Every piece of information on this piece of paper, including Stephen Hawking’s equation.”

“Yeah, but is that practical? Can that even be done, reasonably?” Europa questioned doubtfully. “What insane technology would you need to do such a thing?”

“While I agree it is a bit beyond them, I believe his point is that nothing was really lost, just converted into a new form, and could theoretically be turned back.” Jupiter offered to his moon, his voice light with curiosity. “It is a wonderful law of this Universe, that nothing is ever truly gone.”

While he’d never considered it from that angle, Neptune had to appreciate the sentiment, his mind immediately finding some level of comfort in it. Thinking of every loss as merely a new form for the energy to take held a kind of magical appeal, as if the Universe was as simple as matter changing forms. And even on a larger scale, he’d felt the effects of loss renewing itself into new life, orbiting around him even now. 

“But can that be true for black holes?” Brian questioned the camera. “The ultimate gravitational prisons? These objects in the sky from which even light itself can’t escape? When they evaporate away, do they return the information about everything that ever fell in, back to the Universe?”

“I suppose that depends on what the radiation actually is?” Makemake frowned in thoughtful consideration. “I’ve been running it over in my head, and I can’t think of anything that might allow mass to leave the black hole.”

“It must be something really odd then, if you can’t think of anything.” Haumea hummed, his confused expression now almost permanently sunk into his face. “Maybe the Earthlings found new physics that you don’t know yet?”

New physics or…weird physics. His old scribbles on the strange idea he’d stumbled on centuries ago resurfaced in his mind. When he’d been investigating the behaviour of particles at the smallest scales, and the odd way they seemed to be both wave and particle at once. He’d made a few equations for it, but his favourite thing had been working out all the parts of an atom, and how they interacted with each other. One theory in particular was being highlighted in his memory, about the behaviour of energy in an osculating vacuum. And the odd nature of photons within that environment. Could that be the cause? It would be very small, almost impossible to detect...which fits, I suppose.

“What about pair-particles?” Neptune voiced hesitantly, wondering if this was a stupid idea to suggest. He’d only briefly looked into the phenomena, more fascinated by the idea of photons even being able to interact with the nucleus of an atom. The random, spontaneous appearances of these particles that almost immediately annihilated each other had only held his attention for half an orbit and he hadn't fully pinned them down. But, they did, theoretically, fit the problem. “They can cancel each other out, usually. If they got separated…maybe that could shrink a black hole?”

When the quiet rang for a little too long, Neptune risked a glance up. Oh, did I say something weird again? What are those expressions? I haven’t seen that one before. 

“Neptune, I’m afraid you might have to catch me up a bit there, my friend.” Makemake apologised with a laugh, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing! Where did you come across it?” 

“Oh, um, I was just trying to remember if Haumea was right and we were looking for weird-I mean new physics. And I recalled my old theories about photons and electrons and waves and particles and…well, it’s a bit messy.” He tried to dismiss, hoping maybe he could pretend he was just being mad old Neptune and not actually have to reconstruct his entire thought process right this second. As he began the familiar rush to get his thoughts in order fast enough, he quickly realised this was going to take a bit longer. He hadn't thought about this topic in a long time, and while maths and physics usually resurfaced pretty easily, he still need to sort through it and construct a half-coherent explanation. This wasn't helped by the oddly intense anxiety his core had decided to radiate all of a sudden.

"S-sorry, t-this might -I need a m-moment to t-think." He manged to stammer out, frustration already mixing up the wind in his mind further, threatening to scrape away his words entirely. Now is really not the time!

"That's alright, dude. We can wait!" Pluto's reply surprised the ice giant, who must have given the poor dwarf planet a funny look, because he calmly added, "It sounded interesting, even if I probably won't understand it as much as you and Makemake, so take your time. We don't have a time limit."

"Yeah, and if we did, Makemake would break it too often for us to care." Eris teased, nudging the pink-ish dwarf planet who was still waiting patently for Neptune to explain. 

"Oh..." Neptune was starting to get tired of being caught off-guard. This last hour had been nothing but confusion and weirdness. This reaction was weird too, but it didn't feel like more weight was being added to his core, or like his super-sonic winds were picking up. Instead, it felt like a relief, as if his mind had been wrapped in tight ropes that were abruptly found loose, rendering him confused and stumbling. He half-expected an interruption regardless, especially as his silence was definitely reaching 'very odd' levels. But, instead, the group was still quietly waiting. OK, I can do this!

“A-anyway, I-I found that sometimes these things called pair-particles are made when a vacuum’s energy fluctuates." He glanced up as he spoke, trying to determine if he was making sense. Most of them looked a little lost already, but Makemake offered a nod at his pause, listening attentively. The words were coming much easier now that he'd got going. "The pair is a particle-antiparticle, and they would eliminate each other in a void because energy can’t be made from nothing, so I was thinking maybe if these are being produced near the event horizon, the strong gravity could actually pull them apart fast enough to prevent them eliminating each other instantly, and one could actually escape and leave the other one to fall into the black hole. And then, because the energy for the escaping particle still needs to come from somewhere, the black hole is left with a 'debt' of energy that nullifies some of it's own energy and the free particle leaves as radiation while the black hole loses energy, and therefore mass?”  

“That might be one of the more confusing things you're ever said to me, but it sounded...plausible? I'm not smart enough for this.” Triton muttered, his face scrunched up in deep perplexity. Similar confusion was spreading through the rest of the room, nobody seemed to have followed his explanation well enough to grasp what he was trying to say. Ah, what did I expect? This is why they call me mad, and they’re right.

Just as he was about to try and apologise again, to try and get everyone to ignore and hopefully forget he’d said anything, Makemake spoke up. His expression wasn’t much different from the others, but his eyes held a vast, focused curiosity not found in the rest of the room’s. 

“Neptune, I really think we need to find those equations of yours, once we’re back in orbit!” The pink-ish dwarf planet grinned, jumping forward with an excited air, holding out one hand to the ice giant. “I would love to hear more of this theory! And how you even thought of such a thing!”

Neptune hesitated before taking the offered hand, not sure why the dwarf planet even wanted him to do that. But, after only a second of thought, he shook it. I mean, if he really wants to hear more, I would love to show him! It might be a bit of a nightmare to collect them all, given how long my orbit is…but it could be a fun quest! And a good distraction from other things.

“Black holes ain’t as black as they are painted.” Stephen Hawking was speaking again, as the burnt paper seemed to unfurl and unburn. “They are not the eternal prisons they were once thought. Things can get out of a black hole, both to the outside and possibly to another Universe.”

“Another Universe?” Puck, one of Caelus’ moons, piped up excitedly. “Hah, I was right! Alternate Universes exist!” 

Titania gave a long-suffering sigh, leaning back in her seat. “Fine. You win.”

“Yay! In your face, Ariel!” Puck laughed at Ariel’s returning scowl, sticking his tongue out childishly. 

“Just because one Earthling said so, doesn’t make it true!” 

“Yeah, but this is the super-smart one, the one that amoeba wanted to be!” Puck replied confidently, a smug grin on his face.

“OK, that’s not how that works, like, at all.” Earth interrupted, “Venus was joking earlier…I hope?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Was Venus’ dismissive reply, not even turning away from the screen. The Earth just sighed.

“So, if you feel you are in a black hole, don’t give up.” Hawking’s voice continued over images of ruins and dark rocky areas. “There’s a way out.”

“Okay, random inspirational comment.” Mars muttered, “If it takes some quirk of physics or billions and billions of years to get out of a black hole, isn’t that the same as basically being trapped forever anyway? This ‘way out’ is looking a little sketchy to me.”

“He was just trying to be optimistic, Mars. No need to dismantle his entire sentence.” The Earth’s casual tone was betrayed by the nervous expression that flickered across his face after speaking, seemingly realising who he’d spoken to. 

Mars, for his part, wasn’t a lot calmer. Awkwardly, the two rocky planets stared at each other, accidently attracting the attention of most of the room. Neptune still didn’t know why the two previously close planets had been avoiding each other, but the drama was interesting to observe from a distance. Better than worrying about my own friendship, then one I definitely ruined and might not even be able to fix.

With a glance to his right, he caught Caelus’ eye. The pale ice giant quickly swung his gaze back to the rockies, but Neptune let his own linger. His friend looked stressed, oddly so, and his hands seemed to have furrowed even more wrinkles into his sketchpad than usual. On his far side, Planet X was also watching the rockies, but rather than out of curiosity or amusement, his face was blank, stony and unreadable. 

The mysterious celestial controlling all of this must have gotten bored of the staring contest, because the screen quickly unpaused itself, startling the room back into focus.

“If information somehow escapes from Sagittarius A* as it evaporates away, the implication is profound.” Brian was back, speaking over a swirling black hole. “Black holes aren’t tombs. They’re gateways.”

“Kind of a long and painful gateway.” Caelus noted, his hands shaking subtlety as he sketched something out. “Not one I’d want to take, personally.”

“I doubt he meant it as a suggested form of transportation, Caelus.” Planet X mused, his gaze floating over the room meticulously. 

“Wouldn’t that be cool, though? Being able to go wherever you want in time and space?” Caelus’ words only received a dismissive shrug from the distracted planet, who was now focusing on the Galilean moons for some reason Neptune couldn’t fathom.   

“We now believe that anything that falls into Sagittarius A* will live on.” The planet was back, being drawn out into pieces at the edge of the black hole. “Not as a physical object, but as information. Escaping from the heart of darkness. Encoded into the Hawking radiation in the far future.”

Hawking radiation. At least it had a name, one he could hopefully ask Terra about later, or request some books on the subject. He was endlessly curious to find out what the Earthlings had discovered about the phenomenon. And if his own theory was even slightly close. 

“I’m sure that’s not super comforting to the planet, or its star.” Mercury pointed out, frowning at the screen. “Don’t worry about being ripped to pieces and spaghettified, you’ll become lovely radiation in a trillion years time!”

“I think we have to remember that the Earthlings don’t know we are sentient.” Jupiter advised in a calm voice. “To them, the idea is merely poetic, while in our reality such a thing is cold comfort at best.”

“Maybe we should send a little note down, asking them to stop being so insensitive?” Venus laughed at his own idea, grinning to himself. “They probably just send even more spaceships to Mars to try and talk to him!”

“Please, no.”

“The memory of all those worlds that fell into Sagittarius A* over the entire history of the Milky Way galaxy is somehow written in the ashes of the Universe in the far future.” Brian was walking on a sandy beach, waves crashing nearby. “But the real treasure lies in the explanation of how the information gets out from those eternal prisons.”

“Are they going to explain this Hawking radiation?” Makemake leaned forward in anticipation, and Neptune found himself doing the same. 

“I have a sinking feeling we’re not going to understand a word he says.” Eris muttered with a tired note of dismay. 

“Yep! So, not too different from the previous hour, then?” Pluto joked back, shaking his head at the screen. “I’m going to need a break from maths entirely after this.”

“Now, what I’m going to tell you is going to sound absolutely bizarre. It’s going to sound like science fiction, but here goes.” Brian began to explain. “When the black hole has evaporated away, about half of it has gone, the interior becomes, in some sense, the same place as the distant Hawking radiation that was emitted aeons ago that’s out there in the far reaches of the Universe.”

“...what?” 

Neptune wasn’t completely sure who spoke, and given how confused he felt it could very well have been him. The Earthling’s words had to run through his head a few more times before he even got the basic flow of the sentence to actually make sense. And after that, he set about trying to follow Brian’s logic. I… am struggling to see why that would happen. I suppose, if I’m on the right track about the particle-antiparticle pair being separated, that might play a part? Maybe the Earthlings have gone space-mad?

“It seems that space-time wormholes open up between the interior of the black hole and those distant parts of the Universe, and it’s that that allows us to read the information inside.” Brian laughed to himself. 

“Yah lost me, Brian. I have zero clue what that was supposed to mean.” Earth tilted his head at the screen, eyes studying the Earthling carefully. “Why in the Universe would that open a wormhole? And how would that even work if the radiation is scattered all over the place?”

“I think your Earthlings are broken. This one is, at least.” Dione sniffed disdainfully, eyeing the Earthling warily. “Nothing he’s said for the last few minutes has made any sense.”

“Well, I’ve thought that before, and they were usually right in the end!” Earth countered with an optimistic grin. “We’ve just got to give them time!”

“Now, that is supposed to sound weird, and I should say that nobody really agrees on the physical picture of what’s happening.”

“Then why tell us at all? All that achieved was giving me a core-ache.” Caelus grumbled, rubbing his head irritably. “I need the next episode to refrain from mentioning maths at all.”

“But they think wormholes are real! Isn’t that so cool?” Ariel exclaimed, wiggling from her place squished between Titania and Umbriel. 

“Maybe if I even slightly understood how they got to that conclusion, I’d be a bit more impressed.” Planet X added in reply, the genuine confusion in his eyes surprising Neptune. “As it stands, I can’t say I’m terribly excited by the idea.”

"I suppose it is a little cool." Caelus' hesitant words were directed at his enthusiastic moon, who grinned widely at him in return. Neptune caught X's gaze lingering momentarily on the pale ice giant after he'd spoke.

“But what everybody agrees on is this -the black holes are telling us that our intuitive picture of reality of space and time is wrong.” Brian lifted his hands in emphasis, cupping two areas of air. “The idea that this place is close to this place and that time ticks along is wrong. There is a deeper picture of reality in which space and time do not exist.”

“Ow, my mind is imploding!” Deimos complained, pressing his head into the bean bag he was laying on. At his side, Phobos rolled his eyes.

“Quit being dramatic! If you don’t listen to him, it doesn’t hurt as much!” 

“Duh! But, unlike you, I actually want to be smart!”

“Really? You don’t act like it!” This only resulted in Phobos abruptly finding himself shoved off the bean bag and onto the floor.

“Guys, please stop fighting.” Mars tiredly asked, picking his wayward moon up and depositing him back on the bean bag. “Between Brian and you two, I don’t know who is causing more of my core-aches at the moment.”

The camera panned out from the beach, but as it rose, the sky was replaced by an upside down image of the forest filled with ruins from before. “Our attempts to answer a seemingly simple question about the fate of objects that fall into black holes has led us to a profound and quite unsettling conclusion.” More mirrored landscapes passed by, the various angles giving Neptune a core-ache.

“Ugh, this is going to make me sick.” Ganymede moaned, forced to turn his head away from the screen by the movements. “Tell me when it stops doing that.”

“You get motion sickness?” Titan queried in confusion, “Isn’t that a little antithetical to being a celestial body?”

“No, I get ‘whatever the screen is doing’ sickness.” Ganymede snapped back, still keeping his face carefully turned from the images. “You can’t tell me that it’s not making you even a bit nauseous?”

“I mean, it’s kind of hard to understand what is going on, but not to the point of feeling anything physical.”

“Lucky you.”

“Space and time, concepts so foundational to how we experience the world, are not fundamental properties of nature.” More trippy images followed as Brian kept talking. “They emerge from a deeper reality in which neither exists.”

“This Earthling is mad, I can think of no other explanation.” The Sun concluded in a firm tone, his expression twisted in incomprehension.

“I’m afraid I cannot follow Brian’s explanation of this. He has thoroughly lost me.” Jupiter admitted reluctantly.

“I would love to see why the Earthlings are theorizing about this!” Neptune spoke up. “I mean, time was already a bit iffy, but space as well? Do you reckon they’d lend me a book on it?”

“I’m sure I can find one, dude. Might take me a minute to actually work out what topic this would even be under, though!” Earth offered with a bemused smile. “Can’t say I want to know more, personally. This much is already frying my mind.”

“The thing about black holes is that nobody really understands them.” Brian was thankfully back on screen, no flying landscapes in sight. The camera was a bit fuzzy though. “So don’t worry if you don’t understand what I’m talking about because I don’t understand what I’m talking about, and nobody else does either.”

“Oh good, because I definitely understood none of that.” Mercury sighed in relief. 

“That's not a surprise.” Venus smirked as the smallest planet shot a glare at him. 

The mirrored landscapes were back, and so was the core-ache. “We’re still a long way from fully comprehending the secrets of black holes, but we are beginning to lift the veil.”

“It has certainly been a wild ride, getting to see everything the Earthlings have found out about them!” Saturn conceded with a small smile. “And I can’t wait to see what they find out in the future!”

“I’ll try to keep you updated!” The Earth grinned back excitedly. 

“I would also appreciate being kept up-to-date.” The Sun surprised the living planet by asking, his face valiantly trying not to break the calm expression he’d formed over it. “Clearly, the Earthlings know more than I had expected about our most mysterious celestials.”

“Sure, Sun, I can keep you posted!”

“Far from being a mere cosmic aberration, Sagittarius A* is part of our history and of our future. Our black hole not only made us who we are today, it’s our teacher, slowly revealing the deepest mysteries of the Universe.” The supermassive black hole was hanging on the screen, inky and dark. “Secrets sealed away for so long inside a place beyond forever.”

Neptune took the opportunity to take in the full beauty of the black hole as it spun on the screen. The warping lines of light twisting and bending around the unfathomable void seemed to draw him in, forcing him to look deeper into the endless vacuum. It was still hard to picture what such a celestial would be like. Would they be aggressive? Kind? Bored? The questions he longed to ask them were endless, but reality forced him to face that such an opportunity was highly unlikely. But I can still imagine what it would be like…and that’ll just have to be enough.

“U-um, as n-nice as he’s trying to make it sound, I-I don’t think I’ll be any less scared of b-black h-holes any time soon!” Haumea stammered out, his fingers twisting a loose string tight around his skin. 

“Well, that means they’ll make wonderful antagonist inspiration for our next campaign!” Makemake grinned in excitement. Neptune had heard snippets of these games, recounted to his little moons every time Triton returned from their meetings. It seemed a rather involved, but unique way to pass the time. It certainly intrigued him more than the card games of the rocky worlds.

“No! P-please, no!” Haumea complained to the pink-ish dwarf planet, snapping the stray string as he threw his arms up. 

“The moral of the story is this.” Brian was on an outcropping of rock, surrounded by sea. “Understanding the book of nature is hard, and so the more of nature we observe, the more chance we have of finishing the book.”

“Scrapbooking the Universe.” Caelus’ comment sounded so similar to his usual sarcastic remarks to Neptune, that the ice giant was momentarily convinced Caelus was speaking to him. But, no, he was still half a room away from the pale ice giant and not even within range to hear Planet X’s reply. Whatever it was, Caelus responded with an awkward laugh as he clutched his sketchpad tightly. 

“If you keep staring at him, you’re going to miss the rest of the doc.” Pluto’s voice startled Neptune out of his trance, forcing the ice giant to turn and consider the dwarf planet. “Don’t worry about all that right now, I’m sure we can talk to Caelus and resolve everything after this is over.”

“But…I need to apologize. I keep forgetting his name, and everyone else is remembering it so easily.” Neptune confessed, casting another nervous glance at his distant friend. “And I forgot something else…I think? He was excited about something and I didn’t keep a hold of it.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be willing to hear you out, maybe after everything has calmed down and we’re back in orbit?” Pluto offered, his eyes watching Neptune’s carefully. “I’m sure you guys can work it out, you’ve been friends for as long as I’ve known you!”

“...yeah.” Neptune spoke in an uncertain voice, before hardening his resolve. Pluto’s right! If I’m honest and apologize, Caelus will see that. And I can work on memorizing his new name in the meantime! “OK! I’ll apologise when we’re back in orbit! And try to remember what I forgot.”

"That's good! I think he'll want to apologise to you as well, I hope." Pluto added, casting a brief glance at the other ice giants. "I didn't hear much, but from what Triton said, Caelus owes you one as well. You don't deserve to be treated like that, Neptune."

Neptune could only stare in confusion at the dwarf planet, turning his words around in his head for some better understanding to reveal itself. Had Caelus done something? Not as far as Neptune could remember, but that wasn't very far at the best of times. But if Triton mentioned it, then something must have happened...but what? Or, maybe the issue wasn't something Caelus had done, but what he hadn't done? All the vague snippets and emotions he could dredge from that moment were fuzzing together, but he distinctly remembered Caelus' silence in the face of X's last words. I suppose that's what Triton is angry about...but does it really need an apology? It would be so much less complicated if I just...forgot about it. Then Caelus won't need to worry about it, and we can go back to being friends, and I won't need to find out if he'd ever actually apologise for that...

It felt wrong to doubt his friend, weird and antithetical to his image of him held in his mind, but everything recently had felt weird. Uranus wasn't Uranus anymore. Neptune was finding himself having more fun with the dwarf planets than his own cousin. The idea of even talking to Caelus was pushing a weight onto his core, and Neptune didn't even know if he was Caelus' best friend anymore. Maybe I was Uranus' best friend, but not Caelus'? Maybe I never was to being with? Oh, what am I going to do?

“Now, the strangest objects in nature by far are black holes, and so I suppose it’s not surprising that by peering over the horizon and into the darkness, we have caught a glimpse of something deeply hidden -the underlying structure of reality itself.”

“C-creepy.” Io shivered, turning a baleful eye to Callisto. “H-how much l-longer is t-this? I-I’m s-so t-tired of b-being s-scared!”

“It can’t be that much longer, considering the way Brian is talking.” Europa replied instead, pointing vaguely at the screen. “He’s summarizing and all that, so he’ll shut up soon I expect.”

“Wish we could expect the same from you.” Callisto’s monotone snark ignited a harsh glare for Europa.

“Do you have nothing better to say, Callisto? All you’ve been adding to this is rude comments.”

“Hey, I’m just as stuck here as the rest of us, I’m just trying to entertain myself, not add to the amazing, ground-breaking discussions you’re all involved in.” Callisto returned mildly, her face as passive as ever.

“So if we want to understand the meaning of it all, we can’t restrict ourselves to the intellectually safe confines of our planet.” Brian spoke to the camera with a smile. “We have to look out there to the Universe beyond.” A soft song began to sing about being misunderstood as the black hole hung one last time on the screen before going black.

“I-I can’t say I don’t still hold doubts about black holes, and I certainly will not be trying to meet one,” The Sun admitted slowly as the music drew to a close and the screen darkened. “However, it seems my fellow stars and I did not know very much about them at all. And I can’t ignore the evidence the Earthlings have put forward.” 

“I think it’s a complicated thing to think about.” Saturn frowned to himself as he hesitantly spoke up. “This massive ‘hole in the Universe’ that seems equally as responsible for creation as well as destruction. Not to mention the confusion around how it even works!”

“Yes. And maybe we’ll never know the reality of these celestials, if they are conscious at all.” Jupiter added in a solemn voice. “But, I think we can at least respect them, as vital components in the Universe, and even in our galaxy.”

“That is as far as I will go, with the distinct hope I never need to encounter one in my lifetime all the same.” The Sun ended, his tone resolved but far less vitriolic than before. Neptune sensed this was not a good time to push the issue, and it was hardly his place to try and force the star to change on this point. Just because he was not repulsed by the idea of meeting a black hole did not mean others had to feel the same. I’ll probably also get a new bunch of reasons for others to think I’m crazy. And I might be. 

As the room dispersed into chatter, Neptune’s eye caught onto movement at his side. Triton had come forward to stand in front of Proteus, a stern expression on his face.

“I hope you’re not planning on sneaking off again.” Triton’s words drew an indignant frown out of the little moon, but he did not move to pass him. Instead, he faced Triton with a confident stance.

“No! I was just…” The little moon faltered, frustration flickering on his face. “...trying to see what he was doing! He didn’t tell me the next steps of his plan, so I wanted to see what it was!”

“Plan?” Pluto interrupted, eavesdropping on the moons’ conversation. “What plan?”

“His plan to fix everything in the Solar System!” Proteus claimed excitedly. “He’s going to make everyone happy, and fix all the bad stuff that the other moons are always complaining about!”

“Fix the Solar System?” Triton mused, sharing a concerned look with Pluto over Proteus’ head. 

“What exactly is he going to fix?” Charon joined in, softly speaking to the moon. Proteus lit up at the question. 

“Oh! Lots of things! Like, the bad orbits, and the Sun being a bully, and even Neptune’s memory!” Neptune didn’t remember that being mentioned to him. He supposed that must have been part of Caelus’ ‘plan’ that he’d failed to recall earlier. But, that would require an orbit change…and that didn’t go so well last time.

“Proteus, how exactly does he think he’ll make these changes? You said he had a plan?” Pluto was keeping his voice carefully level, but the underlying tension growing in his form was giving him away. 

“Well…he didn’t tell me exactly what the plan was, but I know he’s trying to do it before we leave here!” Proteus admitted, explaining animatedly despite the expressions on the celestials surrounding him. “I think it involves the Sun? And all the others he’s got to join!” 

“Others?” Neptune asked, concern rising in his core. Clearly, this was what Caelus had wanted him to join in with, and drag his moons along too. But, why does he need so many others, if he’s just talking to the Sun? And why can’t it wait until we’re in orbit again?

“Ganymede and Europa joined! They’re so cool, so when X wanted to speak to them, I decided to follow!” Proteus exclaimed, before adding in a lighter tone. “And that icy moon, Enceladus. I don’t know much about him, but he seems okay.”

“And it seems he’s already recruited Caelus.” Pluto concluded, frowning more deeply now. “This is reminding me of the Moon Revolution, and I don’t like it.”

“I agree. And trying to re-arrange the orbits didn’t last long when the Sun tried it.” Triton muttered, casting a look over his shoulder at the rest of the room. “We need to tell someone else about this. Maybe one of the gas giants?”

“Would that help? The gas giants won’t be able to do much if we don’t even know what X is planning.” Charon asked, gazing over at the area they were currently sitting. “The most it would do is give them a vague warning.”

“They are closer to the Sun, they can pass it on to him without the risk him doubting their word.” Triton countered. Proteus’ head shot up to look at him in surprise.

“But he’s trying to help? If we have new orbits, then everyone can be happy! And no one will complain at Moon club anymore!”

“Proteus, it’s not that simple.” Triton dismissed, trying to calmly explain to the little moon. “Moving the orbits around might make things worse. Other planets and moons might get hurt.”

“But-but what about the ones already hurting?” Proteus asked, a painfully confused expression twisting his face. “Why does Neptune have to stay in a bad orbit, just cause that’s how it’s always been? And Planet X wasn’t even given his old orbit back after he got kicked out! Why doesn’t that matter?”

“I-it does matter, but…we can’t ignore the fact that so many others will suffer instead.” Pluto struggled to articulate, receiving a doubtful look from the little moon. “I-I don’t like it anymore than you do, Proteus, but it’s just the way things are…physics can’t be reasoned with.”

“Why not?” At this, the little moon swung around to face all the others present, frustration clear in his eyes. “It’s not fair! It's not right!”

Watching his little moon grow increasingly upset, Neptune scrambled for something he could say to help calm him down, or at least reduce his worries about this. But, there wasn't much he could offer to counter those words. His orbit was dark, and cold, and lonely enough to break something Neptune was still struggling to comprehend, let alone 'fix'. And maybe that wasn't fair, but his sweet moon did not need to feel so obligated to change this, and he certainly didn't need to put himself at risk of the Sun's wrath for such a thing. I don't know what to say...but I need to say something anyway.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Neptune spoke up, gazing down at his distressed moon. “It’s okay to be upset about it, but the Solar System needs my orbit to say where it is so no one gets hurt.”

“B-But, you are getting hurt! You got hurt!” The moon cried, his frustration boiling into tears and Neptune was painfully reminded that his poor moon had been awake far longer than usual. “Don’t you want it to stop?”

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.” Neptune tried to reassure his moon, holding out his arms slowly to offer a hug. Proteus reached for it even as he continued to protest. 

“Y-you shouldn’t have to be!” Proteus' sob was muffled by the hug, but Neptune heard it all the same. Whether or not he deserved to be in the position he was in wasn’t something Neptune had considered much before. The idea of any being ‘deserving’ of a certain orbit sat hard enough in his core, let alone the idea that his’ was some type of punishment. It wasn’t anything so deliberate or malicious, just a quirk of fate and physics. An unfortunate dice-roll of the Universe. It is what it is. And if it keeps others safe, I can accept it.

“I'm sorry.” Neptune repeated as he tightened the hug, feeling his little moon curl into his chest and cling back just as tightly. There wasn't anything else he could offer the distressed moon, no magic words to communicate his apathy in anyway that wouldn't further upset him. I suppose that truly proves my madness, if I can't even understand my own moon's outrage.

For a blissful moment, he was able to focus on nothing but the precious celestial in his hold, safe from all the complicated stuff and conversations he knew were to come. Proteus was slowly calming, his hold growing weaker as he relaxed against his planet. A few grabbing hands against his arms made him aware that some of his other moons were trying to join the hug. He gladly let them in, curling protectively around them all as they settled into his hold. At the edge of his hearing, he could make out the voices of his oldest speaking with Pluto and his moon, likely trying to decide their next move. Neptune hoped it didn’t involve him. Right now, all he wanted to do was keep his moons protected and happy, and ideally away from X. 

But, Proteus was far too kind hearted to forget this issue, and soon he’d find his way back to that dark ice giant. Neptune was under no illusion that he'd convinced his dear moon to drop this. If he asked, Proteus would likely stay, but Neptune had never been very good at requesting anything from his moons. Using the little moon’s love as a tie to hold him at his side was not the answer. Instead, he would have to watch his moon carefully, from afar, and hope his core was wrong about Planet X. And maybe it is, because his moon definitely saw something he did not. I hope you’re right, Proteus. But all the same, I will watch your back.

Chapter Text

“I just -I don’t know how to fix this!” Mars’ frustration was prickling at Saturn’s already strained calm. The little red planet had decided to complain to Jupiter, which meant Saturn had to hear it as well. He should probably just move, rather than stewing on it, but he didn’t really have anywhere to go. No one was particularly interested in talking to him, and Saturn was reluctant to insert himself into anyone else's business. Why does everyone else seem so busy during these breaks? Even my moons scatter as soon as I look away!

“Mars, you know he’s been struggling with a lack of answers recently. Maybe offering some truth, or at least honesty, would help?” Jupiter’s calm voice advised, only sounding a bit uncertain to Saturn’s ears, and certainly sounding reassuring to the rocky planet. 

“But I can’t! I don’t know any of the answers he’s looking for! And, if I tell him about that previous ‘incident’ he’ll just get upset again!” Mars bemoaned, leaning back against Jupiter’s leg. It was sweet to see that, despite the uncertain air the last documentary had infected the rockies with, Mars had quickly reinstated his closeness with Jupiter. Saturn knew one of his dear friend's worst fears surrounding that secret had been losing the connections he had with the rockies. Always a protector.

“I don’t mean to butt in, but, maybe that’s the problem?” Saturn spoke up, meeting Mars’ gaze with a kind voice. “You’re not telling him things because you think it’ll upset him. But, he seems upset anyway, because he knows you’re hiding things. Maybe you just need to tell him anyway, even if he’ll be upset by it?”

“B-but -you know what happened last time! We can’t risk that, can we?” Mars panicked, turning back to Jupiter. “If I tell him about it, it might set him off again!”

“The circumstances are quite different this time, Mars.” Jupiter countered in his deep voice, drawing Saturn’s eyes to him as well. “He did not know of Theia then, and he does now. Additionally, the last time it happened we were caught off guard. We will know what to watch out for this time.”

“Will we? ‘Cause from the sounds of it, he’s already getting stupid ideas again!” Mars argued back, frowning in frustration. “Luna was saying stuff, about going to talk to exo-planets or something? And they reacted really oddly when I brought the ‘incident’ up by accident, so who knows what they actually know!” 

“Did the Earth say he had any plans? Not just his moon?” Saturn probed, trying to understand what had even happened with the rockies. He was embarrassed to admit he’d been a bit distracted when it was happening, and entirely confused when half his moons had suddenly taken to sitting around a fuming Earth. 

“I-I guess not…he was still just asking about why he’s always wanted Life.” Mars admitted with a miserable sigh. “I wish he would let it go. Nothing can answer his questions. They’re gone! They can't tell him! No one can!”

“Mars, while I agree his search for such an answer will likely be fruitless, we can’t demand he stop wondering about it.” Jupiter offered to the despondent planet, resting a light hand onto his back. “We knew it was going to be an issue after that last documentary revealed her existence. All we can do now is be there for him.”

“I can’t even do that at the moment!” Mars threw his arms up in exasperation, dislodging Jupiter’s hand. “He barely talks to me without getting all tense. It took two episodes for him to even speak to me directly! A-and I don’t want to keep pushing it after I screwed it up last time.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around! This is Earth, after all. Once he’s cooled down a bit I’m sure he’ll be ready to hear you out!” Saturn tried to inject positivity into his words, hoping the red planet wouldn’t lose hope entirely. I hate watching the little ones fight. Makes me so nervous!

“I-I hope so.” Mars relented slightly, offering a small smile to the two gas giants. “Thanks, guys. Sorry for dumping all the rocky planet drama on you.”

“It’s more than alright, Mars.” Jupiter smiled back softly. “You know we’re always happy to help all of you, anytime.”

Mars cast one last look beyond Saturn, to where he knew Earth was still sitting against the wall, before tearing his gaze back to the gas giants. “I-I’m going to talk to Venus and Mercury. See if they can help.”

“That sounds like a plan!” Saturn nodded to the red planet as he turned and began making his way back to the rocky planet bean bags. Watching him go, Saturn was surprised to see that Mercury wasn’t with Venus. Quickly scanning, he located the smallest planet speaking quietly to Luna, who was standing a few paces from his planet. The expressions on their faces told Saturn it would be better if he didn’t get involved. The rockies are more Jupiter’s area of expertise.

“Jupiter? Saturn?” An unfamiliar voice surprised the ringed giant, who glanced around to see two small celestials had approached them. One of them was definitely a moon, but Saturn couldn’t even place his planet, let alone his name. And the one beside him was even smaller, maybe a moon too?

“Hello?” Saturn greeted, wary of the fact he had no names for these two. He probably should, given the fact they’d definitely been stuck in this room together quite a while now, but his mind only drew a blank when he searched it. “What can we do for you?”

The larger one seemed uncertain, casting a quick glance back to the end of the room. It was hard to follow the gaze behind sunglasses, but Saturn thought it had been directed at X’s area. The smaller one, seeing the hesitancy in her companion, stepped forward confidently to face them.

“We have information! And we think you need to be aware of it!” Her voice was still relatively quiet compared to the background noise of the room, but she certainly caught Saturn’s attention with her words.

“What kind of information?” Jupiter questioned, peering down at the little celestial. “And why isn’t Pluto with you? You two are usually inseparable?”

Saturn could've kicked himself. Of course, he should’ve recognised her as Pluto’s moon from the start! Now, if only he could remember her name…

“Pluto’s busy.” The second, larger moon stepped forward now, bluntly answering Jupiter’s questions. “And the information is about Planet X. Pro -one of Neptune’s other moons said some concerning things to us, after talking to X.”

“Oh? What sort of things?” Saturn nervously asked, cold wrapping around his core at the thought of the ice giant. He’d made a, probably poorly thought out, effort to avoid the returning planet over the last few orbits. He knew it was silly, childish even, to dance around the issue like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to face the planet he’d helped exile. And, even now, he remained unpunished. While Jupiter took all the blame…

“It sounds like he’s planning something. Something to do with the Sun and orbit changes.” The, probably Neptunian, moon continued sternly. “He’s been making promises to moons and planets, on the condition that they help him ‘confront’ the Sun.”

“Confront? In what manner?” Jupiter sounded worried, which was making Saturn even more nervous. 

“We’re not sure.” The larger moon looked almost embarrassed to admit this, before continuing in a more confident tone. “But we know it’s likely to happen before we leave this place. We know he already has Caelus and a few moons on his side, and he tried to convince Neptune as well.”

“Really? I did wonder why Neptune moved so abruptly.” Saturn mused, remembering the burst of low chatter behind him before the blue ice giant had suddenly been in a completely different location. The larger moon shook his head, however.

“That was only a part of the issue. He was trying to use Neptune’s memory issues to convince him to join, and his meddling was messing with Caelus and Neptune.” The moon clarified, his eyes darting back to his planet momentarily as he spoke. Saturn looked too, surprised to see the usually relaxed ice giant was clutching a few of his moons tightly, his expression oddly blank.

“Who else is involved?” Jupiter’s sterner voice was creeping in, sensing a problem that needed fixing. 

“We only know that Ganymede, Europa, and Enceladus are likely with him.” The Neptunian moon confirmed. “We don’t know if they’re actually fully aware of the plan either. X seems to be hiding the details.”

“Thank you for letting us know, Triton, Charon.” Jupiter nodded to the two moons, who returned the gesture evenly, while Saturn scrambled to try and commit those names to their faces in his memory. “I’ll keep an eye on this. You should head back to your planets.”

“We’ll keep a watch out from our end too!” Charon added before dashing off after Triton, heading back to the far corner of the room. Saturn watched them go, trying to ignore the ever-expanding hole of dread in his core. 

“Oh, Jupiter, what are we going to do?” He bemoaned, glancing at his friend’s worried expression. “I can’t believe that Enceladus agreed to this willingly! He’s such a sweet moon, why would he get involved in something like this?”

“I would like to think the same of Ganymede and Europa, but as Triton said, we do not know what X has told them. They could very well believe this is a just cause, and so I am reluctant to directly inform Sol. We could get them in undeserved trouble.” Jupiter reasoned. Saturn frowned.

“What is the cause, anyway? He mentioned orbit changes, but that applies to so few…and I’ve never heard Enceladus speak ill of his orbit.” Saturn pondered sadly, confused and hurt. I’ve been trying so hard, and apparently my moons are still miserable enough to join another planet entirely.

“I know Ganymede and Europa have been pushing for more responsibilities recently, and that moon club seems to be a source of pride for them. It is possible that X has promised some form of status change? Ganymede is large enough to be a planet, and maybe X has offered him as much?” Jupiter didn’t sound terribly sure of this.

“I just don’t understand how he plans to do anything?” Saturn muttered tiredly. “Even if this was some attempt to rearrange the orbits, the Sun is hardly going to agree, no matter how many celestials he throws at him.”

“I don’t know either, my friend.” Jupiter sighed, letting himself sink a bit further into the bean bag. “I want to believe this is some big misunderstanding. X was making progress, I was sure of it. But…clearly something else is going on that I don’t see.”

“I guess we can only keep an eye out, then?” Saturn asked, disheartened by Jupiter’s lack of answers. His dear friend always seemed to have an answer for everything, or at least a reassuring word. Saturn felt adrift without it.

“Yes, my friend, I’m afraid so.” 

The two gas giants passed the rest of the break in comfortable silence, each occupied within their own minds, but glad of the company. It was so similar to the feeling of being back in orbit, constantly aware of each other's gravity nearby and reassured by its strength. They didn’t need words to spend time together, not after nearly 5 billion years.

Saturn was only roused from his light doze by the return of the moons. The younger ones quickly reclaimed their spots on him and his bean bag, while his older moons headed back to their crowd near the Earth. As the living planet lifted his head to greet them, Saturn scanned the crowd for Enceladus. The icy moon was engaged in a deep conversation with Hyperion, his arms waving in emphasis. It would not ordinarily have concerned Saturn, but after hearing Triton’s warning, his mind began to fill in the blanks with horrible scenarios. What if he still hates me? What if Planet X wants to take his revenge on me and my own moon agrees to help? Is it too late? Did I forget something again? Would it be weird if I asked?

“Saturn?” A little voice spooked him back to the present, Janus was poking at his hand to get his attention. Squashing down the cheerful joy at recognising the moon’s name instantly, Saturn offered him a smile.

“Yes, Janus?” The little moon grinned back at him, and that was all the reward Saturn could ever need. How did I go so long without this? 

“The show is starting again! You need to watch!” The little moon insisted, pointing up at the brightening screen. Indeed, the rest of the room was now settled again and ready to begin the, hopefully, final episode.

A small space telescope swooped past the screen. Text appeared on the screen as an unfamiliar Earthling voice spoke. “The Cosmos is all that is, or ever was, or ever will be. We know that we are approaching the grandest of mysteries - Carl Sagan.”

“Oh? This is different?” Charon, who was now back with her planet on the dwarf planet bean bag, piped up.

“Well, if this really is the last episode, it would make sense for it to be a bit different?” Pluto suggested in an uncertain tone. 

“Yeah, but that would mean, other than the first and last ones, the exo-planet one was the only one with a unique intro.” The odd, ringed dwarf planet countered with a frown. “It just seems odd.”

“I think you’ve all been spending far too much energy on this.” The pale white dwarf planet snarked, waving a hand vaguely at the screen. “Let’s just get this over with. That opening already sounded far too ominous.”

“Our Universe is an enigma.” Brian was back, speaking over stars whizzing past the screen. “An endless, inexhaustible paradox. It’s largely a dark, cold, and lifeless ocean.”

“This whole documentary is giving me mixed feelings about the Universe.” Titan mused, turning a soft frown to the screen. “One minute, it sounds so full of interesting stuff, and the next it’s the scariest place they can imagine.”

“I suppose that is why it interigues them so much.” Iapetus offered in a considering tone. “Both fascinating and terrifying.”

“Well, I’m glad it didn’t stop them from investigating it.” Rhea smiled. “This documentary has been so mind-blowing so far!”

Saturn was relieved to see that his moons were engaging with this situation so well. He’d been worried that trying to get all his moons, including the new ones, to focus on the documentary would be an endless test of patience. But instead, his older moons had stepped up noticeably to help keep the peace, even going so far as to encourage the little ones to sleep as the hours dragged on. And now, even the youngest of his moons were either drifting back to sleep or happily watching the screen. I don’t know what I’d do without my major moons.

“But within this ocean, there are islands blazing with light.” Shots of a few previous space telescopes passed by, slowly revealing the Milky Way. “Galaxies. Trillions of them. Each one home to hundreds of billions of stars.”

“Yeah, and according to you, they’re all either going to collide with each other or run away faster than light itself!” Mars complained, tossing his head at the screen. “Doesn’t exactly diminish the massive amount of nothing in between.”

“But it does offer sanctuary from it.” Jupiter rumbled at Saturn’s side, his voice soothing to the ringed planet’s ears. “Even if it won’t last forever, it is still wonderful to witness.” 

“I guess. Still feels a bit pointless.”

“And around many of these stars, there are planets.” The camera panned down over one of the alien planets from before, orbiting around a red giant. “Alien worlds. Each incomprehensibly strange.”

“Oh, it’s those tidally-locked planets from before!” Luna pointed out, muttering under his breath. “Still feels weird to imagine something as big as a planet being tidally-locked.”

“Well, me and Ganymede are basically planet-sized, and we’re tidally-locked.” Titan added with a glance at the other moon. “So not too hard to imagine.”

“Yeah, but being tidally-locked to a planet vs a star is probably a very different experience.” Luna countered, “Your planet isn’t going to be sending solar flares right at you constantly, baking one side permanently.”

“There are trillions of planets in our Universe.” Stars of the galaxy swirled over the screen as the camera was pulled backwards through the Milky Way, shifting to the Solar System. “And one of them nurtured beings capable of contemplating this cosmic drama. Miraculously improbable. Brief candles flickering against the eternal night.”

“Ah, good old Earthlings, the only intelligent beings to ever exist, of course!” The sarcasm in Venus’ voice was thick and obvious, his eyes turning away from the screen as the camera whooshed over Earth’s atmosphere of clouds. 

“That was kind of a morbid way to phrase that, though.” Mercury ignored the cloudy planet, and was instead focused on the words. “Makes them sound in danger of going out.”

“Well, relatively, they kinda are?” Earth reluctantly brought up, trying to keep his voice light despite the topic. “They have, at most, 1.75 billion years left until I’m out of the Sun’s habitable zone, so unless they get moving to Mars, they’re on a time limit.”

“Yeah, but these specific Earthlings have only been around for 300,000 years at most. So, to them, 1.75 billion is plenty of time.” Luna countered, adding to his planet’s statement. “If they last long enough to hit that limit, I'm sure they’ll have worked something out.”

“Yeah, but it’s whether or not they’ll even reach that limit that worries me.” Earth sighed. “They seem determined to bring it closer instead.”

“As darkness begins to fall, if you know that all those points of light that appear one by one in the darkening sky are distant Suns, then it’s impossible not to be overwhelmed at the sheer scale and majesty of it all.” Brian spoke with awe.

“‘Suns’? They better not have started giving my name to other stars. It’s mine.” The Sun insisted with a mild tone of insult. “They can’t be slapping it on every star they come across.”

“I think he only said it like that to highlight that there are so many other stars like you out there, with planets and all.” Saturn tried, only to realise his mistake as the star turned his gaze slowly to him. “Not exactly like you, of course! None could truly match your majesty!”

While the star seemed to consider this a good enough save, Saturn couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed that he’d even felt the need to do that. Sure, the Sun could be absolutely terrifying, but it always felt unnerving how quickly Saturn rushed to smooth any conflict or perceived insult. He wasn’t even sure why he did it so much; it was a well-worn path his anxiety had sanded into his mind at this point, and trying to subvert it felt petrifying. Jupiter makes it look so easy…heck, every other celestial makes it look easy, as if back-talking the Sun isn’t setting off every alarm in their minds.

“The Universe is infinite in all directions and terrifying in all directions.” A dark, rocky lake was vaguely visible on the screen. 

“Wait, what is this episode even going to be about? Did I miss the title screen?” Caelus piped up from the ice giant section. 

“It hasn’t told us yet.” Planet X informed the pale ice giant, eyeing the screen critically. “Though, since this may be the last one, I expect they will be tackling something big.”

“Bigger than black holes?” Caelus questioned incredulously, pushing his notepad against his lap as he stared at the screen in confusion. “What could be bigger than that?”

The room exchanged unsure glances, and Saturn found himself looking to Jupiter and the Sun for some insight or idea. But, neither looked terribly sure of an answer themselves. A topic bigger than black holes…

“But if you can overcome your fear, then questions arise. And surely the most profound question of all is, how did all this come to be here?” 

The Earthling’s words felt like a flash of lightning in his atmosphere. Questioning the source of all things in this Universe could only mean one thing.

“Is this about the Big Bang?” Saturn ventured, pretty sure of his answer but wary all the same. There had been plenty of times where he was sure of something in his mind, only to find out he was horribly mistaken and shamefully foolish to have not seen it. Like, mis-remembering a few names, mis-remembering a few facts, or entirely forgetting the death of one of his moons. Saturn quickly pushed the invading tide of all-encompassing panic down, as far down as it would go, until he could breathe properly again.

Brian was finally visible, walking up a pebble path away from the lake. “That’s a question that’s defined much of human history, but it’s only in the last century or so that we’ve had the intellectual and technological tools to interrogate nature directly, in search of an answer.”

“They’ve been investigating the beginning of the Universe?” The pink-ish dwarf planet's excited voice travelled from the back of the room, as the little celestial leaned forward with anticipation. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what they found!”

“And how they found it!” Neptune joined in, looking far more aware than Saturn had spotted before. The blue ice giant was still sitting beside the dwarf planet’s bean bag, but he was much closer than before, with seemingly half his moons crowded onto his lap.

“And we’ve found that it looks for all the world like there was a first moment in time, a beginning to the Universe, 13.8 billion years ago - The Big Bang.” A sharp explosion filled a dark void.

“Wow! That’s definitely a big bang!” Phobos exclaimed with surprise as the room was lit by the explosion. 

“Yeah! The Big Bang!” Deimos joined in with matching enthusiasm, jumping slightly on their planet’s seat. For his part, Mars looked far too tired to even attempt to control his moons for the 100th time, and was instead just passively watching them. He only moved to intervene when Phobos almost fell off the edge, swiftly grabbing and depositing the moon back into place with practiced ease.

“For all the world, but not quite. Because we’ve begun to suspect that there’s more to it.” Brian was walking towards the camera as he explained, the land around him rocky and tufted with greenery. “And we’ve embarked on a heroic quest to search for and to explore the time before the dawn.”

“Oh? But…I thought the Big Bang was the origin of the Universe?” Mercury swung his confused look at the Sun. The star was frowning at the screen, not in the usual anger or outrage, but in honest perplexity. 

“I-I have no idea. The Big Bang is all I was ever told! And not much beyond that.” The Sun admitted, brows furrowing together in deep thought, trying to drag old memories up. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what the Big Bang was even supposed to entail, exactly.”

The room was back to being confused again, and Saturn was right there with them. As he searched his own memories, he realised the star was right. They’d been told that the Big Bang happened, and that all matter came into existence at that moment, but Saturn had never interrogated the tale for details. Well, I suppose, as always, we’ll just have to see what the Earthlings have found out now.

‘Before the Dawn, The Big Bang’ appeared over a pitch black screen before continuing into the intro with some Earthling radio chatter as the image of a space telescope floating above Earth passed by. The chatter began to mix with the music (Neptune by Foals) as images of supernovae, exo-planets, and a black hole sped across the screen. It rose into the title screen, ‘Universe’ before fading into the dark background.

“Well, there it is. Hopefully, the last title screen.” Mars announced belatedly, waving a tired hand at the screen. Saturn wasn’t sure if this one had felt longer or shorter than the last documentary, but he did know that he would need a nap after this was over as well. And Mars seemed like he’d be joining him in this activity. 

“I might actually miss that music. It sounds epic!” Ariel wiggled in her spot between two of Caelus’ other moons, fidgeting with energy. Well, clearly not everyone is going to need a nap.

“For all the people back on Earth, the crew of Apollo 8 has a message that we would like to send to you.” The radio chatter continued, a spacecraft floating on the screen. “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth, and the Earth was without form, and void. And darkness was upon the face of the deep.”

“Um, what?” The Sun questioned, caught off guard by the strange Earthling words. “What are they talking about now?”

“Oh! I think I remember this.” Earth jumped in, peering at the screen, trying to find anything particularly recognisable. “They sent a spacecraft to orbit Luna around Christmas time, so they decided to read stuff from one of their holy books.”

“Wait, I can’t believe I forgot about that!” Luna joined in. “Wasn’t it the first time the Earthlings managed to orbit around me themselves?”

“Yep! They went around about 10 times!” Earth confirmed, pride shining in his eyes.

“Why did they read out stuff from a book? And what even is a ‘holy book’?” Titan asked curiously, watching flashes of Luna’s surface pass by on the screen.

“It’s basically a book that a group of humans think is the word of an ultimate creator, usually a god of some kind.” Earth tried to explain. “That bit they read out is part of their creation story, so it kind of fits with them getting out of my orbit and into Luna’s for the first time.”

“Is that why it seems to be suggesting you existed before the Sun? And also a ‘heaven’?” Dione questioned in bemusement, and Saturn had to admit a similar confusion. It did seem an odd order to arrange things in, considering Earth was ‘technically’ the youngest planet, not the first. I suppose it depends on how you define the start-point for a lifetime? And even then, I can’t really remember which order Proto and Theia formed in comparison to the other rockies…

“They didn’t know as much about how we all formed back then, so they came up with stuff that made sense to them. The ‘heaven’ is just a place they believed their dead loved ones would go.”

“And, as always, they decided you were the first, most important thing.” Venus rolled his eyes disdainfully, earning a glare from Earth. “Classic Earthlings.”

“What exactly were they supposed to think? That one of those tiny dots in the sky was actually the first planet? Or that the nice warm sunlight they had was actually coming from a massive nuclear furnace?” Earth’s hyperbolic rant was grating at Saturn’s worn patience, driving his undercurrent of anxiety higher in his core. I’m so tired of this. I just want to go back to my nice, quiet orbit where I don’t have to think, or worry, or do anything.

“And God said, ‘Let there be light’. And there was light.” The darkness was interrupted by light breaking past a window. The camera focused, revealing the blue marble of Earth half-lit in the void. “And God saw the light, that it was good.”

“An earthrise!” Luna grinned at his planet, who smiled back widely. 

“Yep! They got very excited about seeing that!”

“Oh! I get it! It’s like a sunrise or moonrise!” Tethys caught on a little late, but received affirming nods all the same. “Wow! I wonder if they’d see a saturn-rise from my surface, or maybe an Iapetus-rise, or a Titan-rise?”

“I’m sure that would just be called a moonrise, regardless of which one it was.” Iapetus shook his head in mild amusement at the other moon.

“Yeah, but my ideas sound way cooler!”

“Since we first became conscious of ourselves, we’ve looked to the heavens, to those mysterious lights.” Brian’s voice was back as more images of the spacecraft’s crew and pictures of the Earth from the orbit of Luna. “Searching for answers, what is the Universe? How did it come to be? And what is our place in the cosmos?”

“Awfully big questions for such small beings.” One of the dwarf planets, one with a dark surface, mumbled as they watched. Saturn tried to recall a name, but as always he was drawing a blank. Once I finish memorizing all my moons, I definitely need to start doing the same for the rest of the Solar System. I’m sure, after 274 moons, a few dwarf planets will be easy!

“Important ones, though.” Pluto, and that was one Saturn was pretty confident of, added. 

“Certainly! I can’t wait to see what these questions have led them to find out!” The over-excited, talkative, pink-ish dwarf planet concurred, turning back to the screen in anticipation.

“If it’s anything like the last one, I’m not going to understand a word of it.” The high-voiced, ringed dwarf planet complained with a defeated sigh, but the small smile on his face gave away any true disquiet with the situation.

“We sometimes doubt the creation stories that our ancestors told.” Clouds of nebulae flashed with new stars. “But those ancient myths conceal a profound truth. The clues to the origins of everything can be found out there.”

“In the big void of nothingness?” Mars forward in confusion. “What can they find out there that would answer any of this? The Big Bang was billions of years ago.”

“Yeah, but they have time-travelling telescopes!” Neptune reminded the red planet happily, “They can use it to look back and try to see it!”

“Ah, no offence, dude, but that sounds ridiculous.”

“In light, which ripples to us, from beyond the stars.” A huge explosion of light filled the screen. “If we’re going to dare to know about the origin of the Universe, then we have to have some evidence, and the connection we have with the deep past is light.”

“I stand corrected.” Mars conceded with a grin back at the blue ice giant. Neptune looked almost as surprised as Mars to have been on the right track, but only smiled more brightly at the screen as it continued. 

Just as Saturn began to turn back to the screen as well, his eye caught on Caelus. The pale ice giant wasn’t looking much like himself, in Saturn’s estimate, all subdued and tense, eyes swirling in thought. Whatever had been going on with the ice giants must be causing at least some of the distress, but Saturn had not been keeping track of it. He knew, as the planet who should arguably be the most involved with the ice giants, that he was doing a pretty poor job of improving things in the last few orbits. Sure, him and Jupiter had tried to reach out more, but if Saturn was being truly honest, that was all Jupiter’s doing. Saturn had tried, a few times, to convince himself to actually put some effort into this; but every attempt ended with him still in his orbit, paralyzed by something he couldn’t even name. Shameful. I…I should be better than this! 

It felt like a sharp barrier, blocking him from engaging or even focusing on it, as if just touching it with his mind would sting. Whatever mess the ice giants were wrapped in was starting to look just as terrifying to approach as Planet X, and a mix of the two merely created a monster problem Saturn couldn’t bear to face. So, instead, he did what he always did. Turn away, push it from his mind, and try to pretend it wasn’t going on. The strategy hadn’t exactly worked out well so far, but the 100th time was the charm? 

“You see, light travels very slowly on the Universal scale, only 186,000 miles a second.” Brian was overlooking a high, barren area, clouds rolling in the distance. “It takes light eight minutes to journey from the Sun to the Earth. It takes four years for the light to journey from the next-nearest star.”

“So, quite a while for the Earthlings?” Titania queried, her gaze tracing the area Brian was standing in. “That area is very…empty, but also striking? It’s hard to describe.”

“It’s moorland, probably on top of some hills as well.” Earth grinned back at the moon. “It might look empty, but I promise it is full of living creatures. They’re just very good at hiding.” 

“Oh! Are they ‘camouflaged’? I heard Caelus mention that word once.” Oberon followed up. “Is that how they hide?”

“A bit, but some species also dig holes to hide in, or steal other animals' holes. And a lot of the predators out there will be flighted, so they can hide in the sky.” Earth quickly rambled out, unable to resist an opportunity to talk about his Earthlings, as always.

“And that means we see that star as it was four years in the past. So the further out into the Universe we look, the further back in time we look.” Brian pointed out into the hills and sky. “And because we can look way out into the distant Universe, we can look back towards the beginning of time.”

“And if they go back far enough, they’ll see the Big Bang?” Europa sounded doubtful, and Saturn couldn’t blame her, it certainly sounded very simple but the Earthling technology very rarely was.

“I feel like that would have limitations.” Callisto murmured beside her, casting an unreadable expression back at Jupiter. “I thought stars took a while to start forming? They weren’t around immediately after the Big Bang, were they?”

“I reckon you may be right, Callisto. I suppose we must see how they got around that problem, if at all?” Jupiter affirmed, and Saturn didn’t need to turn to know his friend was smiling at his moon. He speaks to them so casually, so kindly, so easily. And all I can do is forget them. The rotting lump glued to his core pressed just an inch harder, forcing Saturn to swing his mind away from the pit it almost fell into. 

“In the quest to find the origin of the Universe, we need a time machine.” Radio chatter sounded over some Earthlings in a spacecraft. “A telescope so powerful, that can peer out so far into the Universe that it can capture the most ancient light.” Text revealed this was Hubble. “And carry us back towards the dawn of time.” 

“Wooh! Hubble’s back again! Best telescope, I’m telling you!” Earth cheered, and the living planet’s enthusiasm brought a contagious smile to Saturn’s lips. He may not quite understand his attachment to the thing, but it was sweet to watch all the same.

“The time-traveling telescope!” Proteus spoke up from his seat on his planet’s lap, grinning up at Neptune. “Like you said!”

“The Hubble Space Telescope has taken us on an odyssey through the Universe.” The telescope spun in orbit past the camera. Stars and black holes faded onto the screen. “Revealing its gods and monsters.”

“What’s an ‘odyssey’?” Mercury tilted his head at the screen, “And why is it taking them on one?”

“An odyssey is just another word for a journey, usually one filled with hardships or weird stuff.” Earth began to explain animatedly. “It’s from an old Greek story, about a guy that got taken on a really, really unnecessarily long and complicated journey by a bunch of gods and monsters.”

“Ah, so this is going to be long and unnecessarily complicated too, then?” Venus sighed out, rolling his eyes at the living world. “Why can’t they just say that? Instead of expecting me to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of their silly stories.”

“Knowing about the Odyssey is hardly encyclopaedic knowledge. It’s been around for 2,700 years.”

“And yet, I still don’t care.”

“Our Universe is a place of beauty, and terror.” Nebula and bursts of light appeared as he spoke. “Hubble has shown us the visions of sublime creation, and images of awesome destruction. Illuminating our journey backwards in time, towards the dawn.”

“So, it was less that they got caught up with gods and monsters, and more that they just got distracted by the pretty lights.” Luna sighed with an almost fond smile.

“To be fair, this is definitely enough to completely distract me.” Mimas commented, eyes wide and transfixed by the light show on screen.

“Well, let's just hope the Earthlings didn’t get so completely distracted that they forgot to investigate the Big Bang.” Enceladus muttered impatiently. Saturn tried not to tense up at his voice, his mind still struggling to work out why his dear moon would even entertain X’s plan. Maybe Jupiter is right, and he’s been lied to or misled? Or maybe I did something wrong again?

“The Orion Nebula, a stellar nursery.” The bright, colourful nebula covered the screen and lit the room. “Clouds of gas nurturing the newborn stars in the Milky Way. An image brought to us by light that left the nebula 1,300 years ago.”

“So colourful!” Little Aegir whispered in awe, his head resting against Saturn’s knee as he watched the screen. 

Saturn had to fight the urge to scoop the little one up and hug the cuteness out of him. He’d been distraught to find out that many of his moons worried about being picked up by him, and had even gone out of their way to avoid it, afraid of his size and impulsive movements. Titan had carefully and kindly explained it to him, and Saturn had been beyond horrified to realize just how disconnected he’d become from his moons. He’d stopped picking them up entirely, and that had seemingly fixed at least one problem. But now, even when the little ones wanted a hug, the ringed giant struggled to say yes, far too afraid of overstepping again. Always too much or too little. I can never get it just right!

“The Pillars of Creation.” The vast nebula rose from the darkness. “Towering, delicate structures, light years tall. 7,000 years ago.”

“Is that a star factory as well?” One of Neptune’s little moons asked, peeking past her fellow satellites to get a better look at the screen.

“Yep! Full of gases, and therefore full of stars!” The blue ice giant confirmed, his posture relaxed and calm. That wouldn’t have ordinarily stuck Saturn as odd, the ice giant was probably the most relaxed planet in the Solar System, but it stood out now. The strange air that had been permeating around all the ice giants during this documentary seemed to have at least released Neptune from its grasp. Good, one less thing to worry about, I suppose.  

“The Andromeda Galaxy.” The camera spun into the blurry, distant galaxy. “A glittering island of a trillion suns, 2.5 million years ago.”

“Oh yeah, the one that’s going to hit us.” Caelus mumbled, scribbling absentmindedly onto his notepad. “Can’t wait.”

“Well, it’s certainly going to take far longer than 2.5 million years for it to actually reach us.” Planet X mused with a small hint of amusement. “You’ll be waiting quite a while.”

“Let’s hope it’ll be worth it, then.”

“A cosmic rose.” A strangely arranged spiral galaxy colliding with another filled the screen. “Galaxies colliding in a celestial dance. 300 million years ago.”

“I’m sure these are impressive timescales for the Earthlings, but I think I’ve had naps longer than these.” The dark, almost reddish dwarf planet commented with a humoured expression.

“The poor things barely last 80 years, of course these are massive lengths of time for them!” Charon insisted with a saddened expression. “I can’t imagine how annoyed they must be, not being able to stick around a little longer.”

“Annoyed enough to make, like, multiple religions out of it.” Earth laughed, though Saturn didn’t pick up on what the joke was supposed to be. Going by the perplexed looks shared around him, no one else did either. Maybe Luna, but all the grey moon did was elbow his planet.

“But Hubble’s voyage has taken us even further out into the uncharted ocean of space.” The telescope zoomed into a vast range of galaxies. “Ever deeper into the darkness. Glimpsing countless ancient and faraway galaxies.”

“Ominous ticking noise.” Mars muttered, casting a disturbed expression at the screen. “Very unnecessary.”

“Well, it brings a nice air of anticipation, does it not?” The Sun mused in reply, though his expression was only slightly less disquieted by the noise.

“Nice might not be the word.” Mercury quietly added after the Sun’s words.

“Wild and primitive shoals of stars. Lighting the way to the primordial past.” The strange ticking continued as the numbers under the galaxies were getting bigger, until they reached GN-z11 at 13.4 billion years ago. “Until Hubble approached the farthest shore. A galaxy near the dawn of time.”

“A-ah g-geez, that i-is p-pretty far b-back.” Io stammered out as the numbers rose. When they finally stopped, the little yellow celestial gasped in awe. “T-that’s b-basically the s-start of t-the U-universe!”

“That’s the point. They went back as far as they could, at least as far back as stars existed.” Europa’s snappish reply did not diminish Io’s wide-eyed expression, however.

“This is a galaxy called GN-z11, and it is one of the most distant galaxies we’ve ever seen.” Brian was sitting beside a lake surrounded by moors. “This is light from some of the first stars in the Universe. It began its journey only 400 million years after the Big Bang. And it’s taken 13.4 billion years to reach us.”

“So, it doesn't look like that anymore? That’s just what it looked like at the start?” Ariel asked aloud, her voice carrying from Caelus’ seat. 

“I suspect so.” Titania nodded to her fellow moon.

“Good, ‘cause it looks messy!” 

“I wonder what it would be like now?” Oberon added on, curious eyes sparkling in thought. “If it settled into a nice spiral like ours?”

“Well, we’ll have to wait quite a bit longer for that light to reach us, if the Earthlings can even find it again.” Miranda pointed out doubtfully.

“When you think about that. This light journeyed through the Universe, and after nine billion years of its journey, the Earth formed.” Brian explained to the camera with a smile. “And then, during the whole history of our planet it completed the last third of its journey, and entered our telescopes.”

“Ugh, trying to picture that distance is hurting my core!” Earth complained from his spot beside the wall. Saturn was half-tempted to offer the rocky planet a spot on his own bean bag, but he didn’t want to overstep. He wasn’t nearly as close to the rocky planets as he probably should be. He’d mostly just watched Jupiter interacting with the rockies, especially after Theia. The desire to get close to them had always been there, but numbed, detached in a way that felt safer. And it wasn't like he didn’t like the little guys…he just couldn’t risk anything like that happening again. 

“It is certainly daunting to realise this light has been journeying since before our system was formed, or even our galaxy.” Jupiter mused in his deep voice, considering the screen thoughtfully. 

“And going at the speed of light the entire time…I cannot imagine such a vast stretch of space.” Saturn agreed, trying to loosen the buzzing twist in his core as he listened to Brian speak.

“So this is an image from the edge of time.” The blurry red galaxy re-appeared on the screen. 

“It’s kinda ugly?” Deimos tilted his head in confusion, as if a new angle would reveal a better image.

“That’s the best they could get?” Mars also questioned, perplexed by the odd smudge.

“We are talking about light that has been traveling since near the dawn of time, it has certainly had time to scatter and lose parts of itself.” The Sun tried to correct, before adding in a lighter tone. “Or, their telescope just sucks.”

“Hey!”

“GN-z11 was one of the very first galaxies, formed at a time when the Universe itself was taking shape.” The scattered galaxy filled the screen. “Shortly after the Big Bang. GN-z11 was a strange galaxy by today’s standards. 25 times smaller than the Milky Way. But filled with enormous, violent stars.”

“Dude, imagine a whole galaxy full of massive stars!” Pluto turned to his fellow dwarf planets in amazement. “That would be wild to see!”

“And probably absolutely terrifying.” The pale dwarf planet’s monotone voice suggested none of the fear her words did. Instead, she looked positively bored of the whole thing.

“I’m sure it would be quite a bit of both.” The talkative, pink-ish one added, adjusting his glasses towards the screen. “Oh, to speak with those stars!”

“I doubt they’d want to talk to you. They’d struggle to see you!” The dark, reddish one grinned as he teased his friend, who only responded with an eye roll.

“Lurking alongside these volatile giants, there were other things.” As a massive blue star passed by, it revealed a small, dark planet. “Delicate objects struggling in the maelstrom. Some of the first planets in the Universe.”

“Aww!” Saturn couldn’t help it. It was completely involuntary. Why would he ever choose to coo at every small, tiny, baby celestial this documentary brought up? Of course he wouldn’t! So, this was clearly some affliction, messing with his ‘cool’ reputation as the second oldest planet. Totally that…nothing else!

“Damn, imagine being a planet around one of those guys! Some of the first stars in the whole Universe!” Mercury sounded intrigued by the idea, while Venus just scowled at him, as always. I wish those two would stop fighting…I wish all the rockies would stop fighting, it’s stressing Jupiter out.

“Yeah, great fun! Until it blows up in record time and barbeques you.” Venus pointed out. “Doesn’t exactly sound like an ideal situation to me.”

“Do you always have to be such a kill-joy?” Mercury asked with exasperation, his voice adopting a tired edge. “It’s gotta be getting dull by now?”

Venus had no reply beyond a deeper scowl, but Mercury clearly wasn’t expecting one, turning back to the screen without pause.

“These were strange, primordial worlds. And over the horizon of one of them, a sun rose.” The small planet’s rocky surface was lit by the massive blue star on its horizon. “Marking a new chapter in the history of the Universe.”

“Yep! Now stars have to deal with a bunch of whiny, arguing planets all the time.” The Sun exclaimed with a laugh, then huffed at the outraged and annoyed expressions shot his way. “Joking, joking. You guys are great fun! Most of the time.”

“The beginnings of a relationship between stars and planets that would, billions of years later, on a faraway world, lead to the origin of Life.” The camera panned to show Earth hanging in space, lit by the Sun as the music swelled. 

“Always comes back to Life with them, doesn’t it?” Caelus’ rhetorical question caught Saturn’s ear.

“It certainly seems to be a preoccupation of theirs.” X agreed mildly, his eyes turning onto the rocky world near Saturn’s moons. “Though, I can understand why. It is certainly a feat I had not expected to work as long as it has.”

“Ah ha aha!” The little dwarf planet, the one from the asteroid belt Saturn was pretty sure, began to giggle, pointing at the screen. “Entropy! All dark! Haha aha!”

“Ugh, can they shut that guy up?” Caelus complained, his words not quiet enough to hide from the hearing of others. Pluto’s moon, Charon, shot up in her seat.

“Can you shut up?” Charon’s surprisingly harsh response caught the whole room off guard for a breath, no celestial particularly sure how to react to that.

“Um…” Clearly, Caelus wasn’t sure how to respond either, his eyes turning to the moon warily. Charon didn’t give him time to find one.

“Leave Ceres alone! I won’t tolerate you being mean to more of my friends today!”

“Wha-who?” Caelus frowned in confusion at her words, but the little moon did not elaborate, just settled back down beside the giggling dwarf planet and her own planet.

“Now, we don’t know when or where the first dawn broke in the Universe.” Brian was back on screen, standing on the moorland. “But what we do know is that the first dawn was not the first moment. The stars and planets had to come from somewhere.”

“That ‘cosmic web’, wasn’t it?” Europa tried to think back to the earlier moments of the documentary. Saturn was already having a hard time recalling anything that far back with any real clarity; it had felt like information overload this whole time, with very little room to reflect or take in any of the new knowledge. Though, that might just be me. Jupiter has certainly been soaking everything up like a black hole.

“Yes, but finding out how such a structure came to be is likely their aim at the moment. That would certainly help them understand the Big Bang.” Jupiter spoke calmly to his moon, still with a soft smile on his face, no hint of anxiety in his form. I don’t know how he does it! If Enceladus tried to talk to me now, I’d probably panic and say something so completely stupid that my whole moon group would turn on me! And they’d probably be right to!

“So the first dawn was preceded by a long, dark night.” Brian explained as the camera rose up one of the mountains, the sky darkening as it did. “Astronomers call this era the cosmic Dark Ages.”

“Real creative name.” He must have jinxed it. Enceladus’ voice emanated from the huddle of his major moons, turning Saturn’s core icy. Stop overreacting! He hasn’t even spoken directly to you!

“What do you want them to call it? The Big Nothing? Oops, No Stars Yet Time? Long Dark?” Dione countered with her usual mocking tone, smiling as a few of the other moons laughed at her joke names. Oh good, they can just talk amongst themselves, and I don’t need to talk to him at all! Just like every other time there was a problem involving my moons…OK, maybe not my best idea, then. I should say something...

“L-long Dark sounds kind of cool! Doesn’t it?” Saturn valiantly fought the urge to cringe away as his moons turned as one to face him as he spoke. Their expressions could’ve been anything from anger to amusement, but he wouldn’t have known. No, his gaze was fixed on Enceladus, who’s quizzical gaze seemed to grow deeper as the staring got weird. Turn away now, Saturn, this is definitely getting creepy now.

Turns out, quickly flicking your head back to the front does not often come across as casual, normal behaviour either, and it hurts. As Saturn tried to subtly rub his pulled muscle, he heard rapid muttering from his moons. A shy glance revealed that Enceladus was now sporting an anxious, tense expression, still looking at the ringed giant. OK, I screwed that up a little bit…

“If we continued to journey back in time, we’d see shadows fall across the Universe.” The camera panned slowly through an ever-darkening space. “The galaxies would disappear. The first primitive stars would be extinguished one by one. And darkness truly would be upon the face of the deep.”

“This is ominous…” Earth’s voice rose from the darkness that had subsequently fell across the room, obscuring the view of every celestial. “Brian, we get the point, you can turn the lights back on, please.”

The lights did not oblige. Instead, the low whispering of every celestial around him seemed to only get louder, turning Saturn’s core upside down with a sudden wave of fear. Get it together!

“How are they going to see the beginning, then? If it’s all dark?” The not-so quiet whisper from one of Neptune’s little moons broke the mild panic Saturn had been slowly freezing into. The innocent, curious question in the face of the darkness of the room helped the ringed giant get a better hold of his own fear. 

“I’m not sure.” Neptune admitted calmly, before adding in an excited voice. “But, I’m sure the Earthlings have found something fascinating to help them, despite the lack of stars!”

“Here, in the impenetrable gloom of the cosmic Dark Ages, our quest to understand the origins of the Universe would seem to end.” The screen remained pitch black as Brian spoke. “So how can we peer into the cosmic Dark Ages to explore the origin of the Universe?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want to know too!” Ganymede demanded loudly, huffing in frustration. “Can this Earthling stop dancing around the point? I just want answers!”

“Half the benefit of answers is the path towards it.” Jupiter offered to his moon, eyeing the screen. “We may learn more from how they did it, then what they actually found. I certainly cannot fathom what method was used.”

“Whatever.” Ganymede was trying to sound as dismissive as usual, but Saturn caught his gaze fixing itself onto the screen once again in curious concentration.

“Well, perhaps counterintuitively, the light from the stars can still guide us, because that starlight has been travelling across the Universe for millions or even billions of years to reach us, and information about the way the Universe has changed and evolved becomes imprinted in that starlight.”

“I don’t get it?” Mars frowned deeply, his voice heavy with confusion. “What is he even alluding to? What else does the starlight tell them?”

“Um, I’m not sure? It can probably tell them the size, strength, and location of a star, but I’m not sure how that would be useful?” The Sun joined in with speculation of his own. “I’m not aware of anything else it could be.”

A shot of Luna quickly turned to show a sunrise, Brian speaking over it. “The stars have illuminated our voyage through time. But their light can’t guide us directly across the Dark Ages. Instead, their light can be used to build maps of the Universe, in space and time. That allow us to navigate towards the moment of creation.” 

“Still too vague, Brian.” Venus sneered impatiently, voice rising in frustration. “We want actual answers, not random hints!”

“I don’t think they’re random hints at all!” The pink-ish dwarf planet piped up from the back. “He said ‘space and time’ so I imagine it will be their location that is being used, as the Sun said!” 

“O-oh…yeah I suppose that makes sense.” The star sounded surprised at that conformation, frowning at the screen. “Not sure how that would help them, though.”

“If they can work out when and where a star is, they can find out if there are any trends in movement over time!” Neptune joined in with the dwarf planet, speaking up loudly and excitedly. “If the Universe is expanding, it should have an origin point, right?”

“I-I guess?”

“And the most valuable light of all comes from very particular stars in the spectacular swansong of their lives.” The camera was inside some kind of Earthling building, looking at, presumably, a telescope. 

“Swan song? What’s a swan? And why is it singing?” Ariel questioned intently, turning her curious eyes onto the Earth and Luna.

“A swan is just a type of Earthling. A big, usually white bird. The humans love them because they are so pretty and loyal to their mates.” The Earth informed the room as a whole, who also did not know what a swan was. Saturn was quite glad someone had asked, or he’d have had to sit with the mystery forever. They sound very sweet! I’d love to see some!

“And singing is just something a few types of Earthling like to do, usually to attract mates. Most swans don’t actually sing, though.” Earth continued after a breath, “A swansong refers to an old belief the humans had, that a swan would sing a beautiful song right at the end of its life. It’s usually used to say ‘this is someone's last effort or show before the end’.”

“Kind of depressing, then.” Miranda deadpanned, “So they’re looking at some kind of dying star?”

“Possibly. The saying would suggest so.”

“Stars exist in a permanent state of conflict because the force of gravity is relentless. Left to its own devices, it will crush anything and everything, without limit.” Brian spoke as he moved around the building. “But fortunately, other forces come into play.”

“I guess we saw how important that is in the last episode.” Titan mused. “Endless gravity seemed to really mess stuff up.”

“I’m definitely glad that stars don’t immediately collapse into black holes.” Rhea shivered. “Imagine how many there would be! It would be chaos!”

“Well, physics saves us from that, as far as I can tell?” Tethys didn’t sound totally sure, but his gaze was happily trained on the screen, clearly waiting for more information.

“As the star collapses, its core heats up and turns into a giant nuclear fusion reactor…” Brian explained the basics of hydrogen being converted into helium and releasing energy. “...which holds the star up. But stars like our Sun burn hundreds of millions of tonnes of hydrogen into helium every second. And although they are big, they’re not infinite in size.”

“Great, we are talking about a dying star, then.” Caelus complained with a put-off frown, half prepared to turn his eyes away. Saturn knew the pale ice giant could be squeamish at times, but this pre-emptive caution seemed out of character. Maybe he’s just tired of seeing this stuff? I sure am.

“Stars, just like human beings, have a lifetime.” Brian walked towards the camera slowly. “They are subject to the relentless march of time.”

“Lovely reminder, Brian.” Mercury muttered, a sarcastic edge to his voice. “His ominously dark location isn’t helping.”

“I wish they would stop comparing me to their infinitesimally smaller lifespans.” The Sun added with a scoff. “I will outlive all of them and their entire kind, regardless of my lifespan.”

“I think it’s kind of cute! They’re trying to find ways in which you guys are the same.” Saturn brought up, impressed by the Earthlings’ insistence on drawing this comparison. While the Sun may disagree, Saturn thought it helped stars seem more…relatable, in a sense. Less like great deities of creation, and more like celestials with concerns and issues he could understand. I mean, what being doesn’t worry about their end?   

“Now, for stars like our Sun, the collapse continues until it produces a new and exotic type of star, known as a white dwarf.” The screen changed to show a small, pale star flickering slightly. “White dwarfs are strange beasts. The fading remains of stars. Super-dense, planetary-size cores, usually composed entirely of carbon and oxygen.”

“...So, is that where all the elements you make at the end of your lifetime will go?” Earth questioned into the tense silence, as the room processed the sight of this future. 

“Yes.” The Sun answered sharply, which didn’t exactly help the atmosphere of the group. Seeing this, the star shook himself and tried again in a calmer voice. “Yes, that is where most of it will go. Some of it may be lost in a small planetary nova, but most will stay in the white dwarf.”

“Are they conscious?” Surprising more than just Saturn, Planet X spoke up. The star turned a thoughtful eye to the ceiling as he answered.

“I-I don’t believe so…but I have never met one.” The Sun’s words were burning with uncertainty, steam already threatening to touch the top of the room. “I wouldn’t expect so, it would be a bit odd…but, I don’t know.” 

“Stars that were once a million times the size of our planet, crushed to the size of the Earth.” The pale star moved past the screen slowly. “Subjecting the carbon to extreme pressures. And making white dwarfs, in effect, stellar diamonds.”

“That’s a nice way to put it.” Saturn couldn’t help but admire the bright, small star on screen, still glowing despite death.

“Wait, you’ll be as small as Earth?” Caelus exclaimed in surprise, seemingly forgetting who he was addressing this too, before abruptly adding, “Not to say that’s a bad thing, of course!”

“Yeah! Why would that be a bad thing?” The Earth jumped in with a confused furrow in his brow. The Sun paused in his nod to Caelus, turning to watch the Earth with an amused smile. “I’m the biggest rocky planet!”

“Only by, like, a few metres.” Luna corrected from beside the living planet. Said planet quickly turned an offended glance at his moon.

“It’s definitely more than that! At least 400 metres!” 

“That’s ‘a few’.” Venus butted in with a stern expression. “Shut up for five seconds!”

“Hey!”

“These diamond stars are critically balanced, able to resist the relentless inward pull of gravity, but only just. And that can make them ticking time bombs.”

“You’re going to turn into a BOMB?” Phobos’ excited exclamation of this fact did not transfer to the rest of the room, leaving the little moon with only a silent reception. “It’s cool though?”

“Maybe, if you don’t live right next to the bomb in question.” Mars rolled his eyes, nudging the moon back down into the seat. “And if the bomb in question isn’t currently listening.”

“Well, I’m not terribly likely to actually do that.” The Sun corrected, much to the relief of the watching celestials. Saturn had been half-ready to pack up and leave after hearing that. “It would require a pretty significant disruption, one I’m not sure any of you could actually cause.”

“That is good to hear.” Jupiter nodded, his words further calming the room.

“In 2018, Hubble was in orbit.” The screen showed a view of Hubble floating above Earth’s green-blue surface. “The telescope focused on a galaxy far, far away.” 70 million light years away appeared over a spiral galaxy. “Hunting for a distant white dwarf that we knew was coming to the end of its extraordinary life.”

“H-hubble a-again? T-that t-telescope is d-doing e-everything at t-this p-point.” Io stammered out in amazement, watching the space telescope float by. “I-I can s-see w-why you l-like it!”

“Isn’t it great! I love all the pretty pictures it sends back!” Luna agreed happily, grinning at the screen. “The science is pretty cool too, I guess.”

“You ‘guess’? The science is half the fun!” Earth nudged his moon in the side to emphasize his point, to which Luna retaliated by moving just enough to unstable the planet as he leaned to the side. Watching the living planet try to sit himself back up without catching the room’s attention almost drew a laugh from Saturn.

“For millions of years, the white dwarf had remained hidden.” The small star was on the screen, tiny compared to the massive red star it orbited. “Locked in orbit around a much bigger star. A red giant.” 

“I haven’t really considered what happens to binary star systems when they start to die.” Jupiter mused, a thoughtful, solemn expression crossing his face. “I can’t imagine it would be nice to be orbited by the corpse of your lifetime friend.”

“Or enemy. Maybe they hated each other?” Ganymede proposed. “Still kinda morbid, either way.”

“I cannot imagine two long-lived stars still hating each other after an eternity together.” Jupiter disagreed, “Even if they did not necessarily call each other friends, I would think they would still grieve the loss.”

Saturn couldn’t picture it either, to be forever orbited by the remains of another celestial. Can’t you? You already do, you just forgot! Like it didn’t even matter! The ringed giant quickly shook his head, hoping to wipe that train of thought from his mind entirely. No, no, no.

A soft hand fell onto his own, and Saturn opened one eye to peek at Jupiter’s worried expression. Seeing that he had the ringed giant’s attention, he offered his usual kind smile, and Saturn was helpless to resist grasping the hand on his own in reply. He probably just thinks I’m upset about the dead stars…how messed up would he think I was if I said I’d almost forgotten about her again? He definitely wouldn’t smile like that at me any more.

“As they circle each other, the white dwarf’s gravity drew in gas and plasma from the red giant.” A wreath of red gas was ringing the smaller star, fed to it from the larger. “The mass of the white dwarf increased, until it approached a critical limit. Known as the Chandrasekhar mass.”

“Ah, so that’s what you meant.” Neptune noted with an interested, wide-eyed gaze. “About how turning you into a bomb would need a lot of disruption? I guess the only way it could happen is if another star turned up.”

“Yes, and I’m quite happy to remain unlikely to explode, thank you.” The Sun nodded to the ice giant, thankfully ignoring the insensitive wording. I don’t know how Neptune does it! So unbothered by the Sun’s potential wrath. I guess he just forgets?

“And surpassed it.” The white dwarf flickered erratically, light continuing to grow as more gas entered it. “Triggering a colossal thermonuclear reaction.” The camera zoomed out just as the white dwarf suddenly exploded violently, the force of it pushing the red giant backwards. The resulting nova scattered around the red giant, obscuring it almost entirely. “The white dwarf detonated. In a gigantic explosion, called a supernova.”

“Wooh!” The exclamation could have come from anywhere, or everywhere, Saturn wasn’t totally sure. The supernova lit the room noticeably, illuminating the faces of his moons as they watched from beside him. 

“That is quite a bomb.” Planet X hummed, watching the nova spread across the screen. “I would not have expected such an end for a small star.”

“What usually happens to white dwarfs, then? If this is a special case.” Europa asked with a curious tone, looking towards the Sun and her planet.

“Well, as we saw at the start, like red dwarfs, most white dwarfs just slowly cool, and become black dwarfs.” The Sun summarised quickly, adding in a forced-light tone, “Though, the Universe hasn’t actually been around long enough for a white dwarf to cool down, so who knows?”

“That, millions of light years away, was detected by Hubble.” Flashes were detected from the explosion by the space telescope. “That white dwarf star or, to be more precise, the supernova that it became, has a name. It’s called SN 2018 GV, and even though it is 70 million light years away, it is so bright that we could make a movie on it.”

“That’s hardly a name.” Enceladus muttered, then questioned with a confused frown, “What does he mean, ‘we could make a movie on it’?”

“He’s probably referring to the fact that 3,000 lumens is usually needed to light a video recording…though I’m not sure how he would go about using the light for such a purpose?” Earth replied in an uncertain voice, pressing a hand to his chin. “It’s certainly an odd way to get that point across.”

“Maybe it makes more sense for Earthlings?” Luna offered, looking equally bemused. 

“I mean, imagine that -this is a star the size of a planet, ending its life with a flash of light that’s as bright as five billion Suns.” Brian emphasized as he spoke over the light Hubble detected. 

“It’s definitely a bright end, I suppose.” Pluto commented in a cautious voice, his moon clinging to his side with a dismayed expression. “Still a bit morbid.”

“Well, blowing up a corpse is usually considered a bit crass.” Dione’s addition to the conversion tried once again to force a laugh out of Saturn, but he beat it down by placing a hand over his mouth and trying to turn away from the screen. 

“Are you OK, my friend?” Unfortunately, Jupiter seemed to take this as a sign of distress. Trying to wave off the large planet, Saturn forced himself to fix his expression in rapid time. As he met Jupiter’s gaze, he was instantly sobered by the deep worry he saw there, etched across an unseen mountain of stress his dear friend had been piling onto himself. 

“I’m alright, my friend! Just a bit caught off guard, is all.” Saturn assured him, reaching to take his hand again and squeeze it gently. “Are you doing OK? You seem stressed.”

“It is nothing serious, you don’t need to worry.” Jupiter hypocritically brushed off, and Saturn gave him a doubtful look until he reconsidered. “I-I merely find myself quite conflicted by this…plan of X’s. We must protect the Sun, of course, but…”

“But?” Saturn prompted in a quiet voice, studying Jupiter's eyes carefully. What is he trying to say?

“If he has managed to gather so many others, there must be some issues we need to address. We can’t ignore them, or we’ll risk this happening again and again.” Jupiter tried to explain. “I-I'm thinking…if we let this play out, we can stand as referees and jump in if anything escalates? Rather than trying to squash this immediately.”

“Y-you can’t be serious?” Saturn didn’t know what to say, taken aback by the uncharacteristic suggestion from Jupiter. “Just sit back and watch? We don’t know anything about what X is actually planning! This could blow up in our faces!”

“We won’t be sitting, we’ll be there, just…not before they get a chance to speak. I’ve been trying to find out about the issues going on under the surface in this system for orbits now, and this might be the only time to hear them honestly.” Jupiter implored, conflicted eyes meeting Saturn’s own.

“I’m sorry, my friend, I can’t understand this.” Saturn softly admitted, reluctant to disagree with his dearest friend. “I-I won’t stop them if it’s peaceful, but if I see any hint of harm, I’m not going to wait around for their explanation.”

“Of course, my friend.” Jupiter held both his hands now, gently rubbing them with his thumbs. “I won’t ask you to copy me, and I promise to help if it comes to violence, as much as I hope it will not.”

Saturn could only nod, his emotions flung adrift by this conversation. His earlier hope that he and Jupiter would be able to fix this before the Sun ever found out was shrivelling before his eyes, and instead a blossom of trepidation was opening. Now, he would be stuck waiting for X’s move, trying to mitigate any damage that planet might cause. How am I supposed to ask Enceladus about this, if Jupiter won’t help? I-I can’t talk to him by myself! I’ll say the wrong thing!   

“Now, although supernovas like these only shine for a few days, they cast a profound light out across the Universe.” Brian explained. “We’ve given a name to the sort of supernova Hubble saw. They’re called type 1A supernovae. And they’re common enough to allow us to map the evolution of the Universe.”

“They’ve been classifying different types of supernovae?” The Sun asked, curiously turning to the Earth. “Why?”

“I think they mostly do it to differentiate between supernovae with hydrogen in the explosion, vs ones without.” Earth tried to recall, frowning in thought. “Type 1 are the non-hydrogen ones, I’m pretty sure. And the A likely just means it was caused by a white dwarf, I imagine.”

“Interesting.” The Sun mused on the Earth’s words for a beat, before requesting. “I’d like to know more about the types of nova they have found, once we are free of this mess.”

“Of course, Sun!” The Earth grinned.

Saturn tried to keep focused on the screen, and not risk suspicious glances at Enceladus or Planet X or Jupiter, or anyone. He found himself wishing that he’d not been told any of this, that he’d just been left uninformed and unaware, blissfully disconnected from the horrible and confusing stuff this system always seemed to be full of. But, no, he was definitely involved now. As much as he was tempted to pretend ignorance, he couldn’t just leave this to play out without at least trying to help. Even if he couldn’t count on Jupiter’s help, or the support of his moons. I can’t keep being a useless, passive coward. I am the second largest and oldest planet, I have a duty to uphold!