Back on Earth, the atmosphere had changed. News of my coronation in Rikapud sent shockwaves through the population. Some feared I'd turned traitor. Others called it the greatest act of leadership in human history.
But none of that mattered right now.
Because I had to see my family.
I walked into the high-security holding cell where my father had spent the last decade. He looked older, his frame still strong but dulled by confinement. My mother was there, too. She had fought endlessly for his release, standing beside me even when it hurt.
When he saw me, he didn't stand. He didn't smile. He just looked.
"I heard," he said. "So… you're a king now?"
"No," I replied. "Just someone who made a choice."
There was a pause. Then:
"I'm sorry."
The words hit harder than any blast I'd taken in battle.
"For what?" I asked.
"For everything," he said. "For the lies. The decisions I made. I thought I was protecting you. The world. But I became someone I didn't recognize."
I nodded slowly. "I hated you for a long time. But now… I understand. You didn't know how else to protect what you loved. I've felt that now. In ways you never could have prepared me for."
He leaned forward, his eyes steady. "So why now? Why release me?"
"Because I needed to know where you stood. If I had failed against the Rikapud king, would you have sided with me? Or with power?"
"I would have sided with you," he said without hesitation. "Always. I just… didn't know how to show it."
I reached into my coat and handed him a communicator. "Then help us. There's a whole civilization out there that needs rebuilding. And I could use someone who knows how to plan for the worst."
He smiled faintly. "You've changed."
"We all have."
My mother stepped closer. Her voice was soft, but strong. "I always believed in you. And I always believed your father would come back to us. You've proven us both right."
"I'm not done yet," I said. "But I think we're finally starting the right fight."
Now, the collaboration had begun.
Joint teams of human and Rikapud scientists worked tirelessly, building propulsion systems that could cross galaxies, terraforming modules for alien atmospheres, and nano-architectures capable of growing cities from dust. We were drafting the first interspecies constitution—a living document written by minds from two worlds.
Nkhensani stood beside me as we looked at the stars. My mother was there too, for the first time in a long while, smiling with pride.
"One day," Nkhensani said, "kids from both our worlds will grow up thinking this was normal. Like we were always allies."
"I hope so," I said. "Because we're not just looking for a new planet."
She turned to me. "What are we looking for then?"
"A new way to live."
And as the twin moons rose over the Rikapud skyline, I finally let myself breathe.
Peace wasn't easy.
But for the first time—it felt possible.