Fiction:Great Cyrannus War/Year Two/A Memorable Visit

Deep in the outer reaches of the Cyrannus Galaxy, a star cruiser sailed smoothly and without interruption into the deep blackness of space. The blackness was only interrupted by the occasional white dot, a star system that on its own could be harboring an entire civilization within its gravitational influence. On the side of the sleek, silver hull bore the words Mar'leti. In the language of its creators and current inhabitants, this unusual word meant "Messenger".

Its origin? Jora.

An old Jovar lie down on one of the cruiser's many comfortable cots, looking out into that deep black mass that engulfed everything it seemed to touch. To the old creature, space was indeed quite a beautiful thing to admire and ponder on. That being said, he had been a part of a great, albeit ancient spacefaring fleet. In his personal starship, he and the rest of the fleet had journeyed through the stars and beyond, having fought countless hostiles and discovered countless more friendly nations. In his lifetime, he had seen many star systems, a number that was quite impossible to fathom easily. And looking out of the port window brought those distant memories back.

But no longer did that grand fleet he once belonged to exist. His old nation no longer flew its banner of justice and authority. And his old ship was probably a heap of scrap metal at this point. To be fair, there was no telling what it was now.

At first glance, the old Jovar was nothing more than that. An old civilian. A tourist. Not that the URC would mind that much at all.

But anyone that was even partially involved in intergalactic politics and affairs could easily recognize this particularly well-known Jovar. He was the figurehead of the race, along with his late brother. Heck, his name was Jovar.

Jovar III.

Jovar wasn't all that used to being the passenger of a starship. Yet here he was, sitting in the residential department (first class, of course) of a star cruiser (which, for all he knew, could very well have been part of the Jovar Fleet when he was still serving). If anyone had recognized him, he was sure that they would have made him the honorary captain for the trip. It was only Jovar custom to do something like that. It was a sign of respect. But not one soul had recognized him. There were a few close calls, but he quickly shrugged off the "absurd idea". And everyone went on with their daily lives.

He didn't mind. In fact, he was sort of glad that no one noticed.

Having lived the life of royalty for some 230-plus years was quite stressful. So for the aged Admiral, living in the shadows in the guise of your typical elderly citizen was a welcome commodity, to be fully honest. To say the least, the royal life was hectic. And even after the terrible disaster of a civil war that had split his great nation in two had come and gone, and the title of "Chancellor" became that of "President", it had been exactly the same. The name change meant nothing. It was exactly the same.

In eight years, he had come to fully grasp and understand how difficult it was to lead an entire nation. But at least now he knew what his brother had to deal with for even longer, forty-five years.

Sometimes, though, he did wish that he could go back to those old days of power, glory and fame. It was a natural human instinct (something the Jovar acquired from their creators) for him to want that. Despite the stress and dangers involved, he did find it to be quite fun. Somewhat regrettably, he missed it.

But there was nothing wrong with feeling that way. And he knew it.

Even now as he stared off into the distant white dots, he pondered on what might be out there. It was only normal of him. Space was his interest. And it had been since his childhood.

But for the first time in more than two centuries, he found himself slowly dozing off. Sucumbing to the endless beauty of the stars.

And for once, he let the sleep overtake him.

Just this once.