A Royal Christmas in Space

Book 2: Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - well i worry about my present situation,
                          my bookie says my odds are next to none,
                          but i'd worry if my chances were improving,
                          i got ulcers from the worrying I've done

The Oligarchia emerged from the transtellar worm-hole in a burst of greeny-yellow sparkles and glided into the pale orange atmosphere of a distant planet. It hovered in the sky over Ropfopeeoliop, Bopthopiomiop's capital city, the seat of the Galactic Council of Ruling Families.

Pluckie rested her forehead against the space yacht's window and looked down on the city landscape below. Normally she would have been fascinated by the sturdy domes and shiny obelisks rising out of the fetid swamp, but at that moment she was too consumed with heartache to notice the impressive, alien engineering.

Less than an hour ago, her future brother-in-law had yelled terrible things at her. Duke had said she was manipulative and cruel and that no one liked her pie. How was that possible? If no one liked her Christmas Cream Pie then it wouldn't have won the Moon Camp talent show all those years ago.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the good, wholesome, recycled air of the Oligarchia.

The issue with Duke could not be ignored, but at that moment she had to focus on winning approval from a council of judgmental aliens. She dug down deep into her heart to find the strength she needed. It took the form of a red-hot ball of energy, pulsating with kindness. She let it grow, metaphorically expanding through her body, until she was ready to face the day in front of her.

Pluckie opened her eyes and stood up straight. She would win over the Ruling Families and by the end of the day she would be married to the man she loved. It was Christmas Day, after all, and nothing bad ever happened on Christmas.

"Are you ready?"

Drak walked down the corridor toward her. He was a vision of princely beauty. The light glinted off his black and chrome armor. His dress cape, with its gold embroidery and ermine collar, billowed out behind him. He stopped at her side and held out his elbow.

She took his arm, resting her hand on top of his. With her other hand, she touched the gemstone on her mother's necklace. "I'm ready."

They would disembark from the Oligarchia in a regal parade. For that reason, everyone crowded into the passenger gangplank elevator. They rode down in silence, Pluckie and Drak holding hands the whole way.

When the doors opened they all emerged onto the soggy, mossy ground. Prince Drak was first with Pluckie at his side, followed by Nova and Bubby, then Patrick Smythe. Next came H.C. Darcy, whom everyone assumed was Duke Revin. He peered longingly over his shoulder at the emotionless face of Vori Gadalov.

Behind the stoic bodyguard marched Gasha Kovacevic, Yan and Diego Browne, Cookbot, Kiko Chiru, and in the very back the real Count Duke. No one recognized him because he wore sunglasses and a floppy hat.

He raised up on his tiptoes and tired to see over the procession. "I gotta get to the front," he said, his voice low enough so only Kiko could hear him. "I gotta get to Drak and recite a poem."

Kiko studied the back of the man she mistook for the Count. "That bodyguard will stop us as soon as I make a move."

She was right, Duke knew it. Gadalov hadn't hesitated when he thought there was a Ralfie assassin onboard. He'd never let anyone get past him to the Royal Family. That didn't mean the situation was hopeless. Duke would wait for an opportunity to present itself. It was Christmas Day, after all. Opportunities always presented themselves on Christmas.