Maxima stood in front of the tall and slim, gold trimmed mirror. Constantly she rotated from the front a view of her body to the side, rubbing her stomach. Prince Drake was on his way to returning to his home land. He was set to return when the baby was born, to provide as the new born's fatherly figure.
Her chamber door slammed open and was closed tightly behind the person who had entered. Cwane was his usual stern but lenient self. His yellow robes still dragging behind him.
"Your highness," he greeted to the nude queen.
"Greetings Cwane. I would appreciate it if you were to knock next time," she said not caring about covering herself from Cwane's eyes.
"I am sorry my queen," he apologized. "Already looking for signs of a child are we," he asked changing his tone.
"Yes, Cwane. As a matter of fact I am," she said turning her nose up at him.
"The changes aren't noticeable right away your highness," he said laughing.
"I know," she sighed taking one last look at her slim figure in the mirror, then tossing her silk robe over her body.
"How was the Mok'Bara with prince Drake," he questioned, hands draped behind his back.
"I wish not to go into detail, however it was a disgusting display of male masculinity. I was only there to be fertilized but the Prince did other things to me during the process," she said with utter disgust.
"Ah, yes," Cwane said nodding his head, "foreplay."
"Play what," she questioned as if she had not herd him correctly.
"Foreplay," he repeated, "everything done to each other that leads up to the fertilization."
"And have you ever done this foreplay," she asked curiously.
"Yes, it adds intimacy to Mok'Bara," he answered.
"But I was not to get... intimate with the young prince," she pointed out, "yet we were. Does this means he loves me?"
"It is not certain as to the prince's feelings towards you," he consoled, "you must understand that, where he comes from, love making as it is commonly known is an expression of intimacy or a way to express certain feelings toward one another."
"So what you are saying then," she said taking a seat on an over stuffed chair with Cwane following, " is that the prince is accustomed to...love making...and knows not the Mok'Bara way?"
"Correct."
This was of puzzlement to Maxima. The entire ideal of love making was intriguing and soon stuck her as a great way to experience pleasure. But the priest hood of Weblow would never allow such an activity to occur unless it were for procreation purposes only. However there was an organization known as ROW, which practiced such things as intimate love making and the new thing: homosexuality. They were the outcast group of Weblow.

"Then the prince knows only one way of his sex and that was it," she finished, obviously closing the topic of discussion.
"Correct again my queen," Cwane said nodding his head slightly.
"However, I do not believe my Mok'Bara experiences was the reason for your visit," she said sipping from a cup sitting on a table in front of the chair.
"Yes, I'm afraid the rebels," he paused and corrected himself, "ROW... is upping their battle against the ways of Weblow. Their influence is spreading rapidly throughout the land. They will be then end of our civilization as we know it."
This civilization could not come down, Maxima and her ancestors had worked to hard to build the country into what it was today.
"Construct holding cells for ROW. We will build it beneath the ground of our country. Bring all of the rebel leaders to me, they will bow before their queen and then be executed. We let this group go unattended for too long. It is time to put out the sparks which have caused a fire," she instructed sternly. She slipped into the role of queen so well and so naturally. Cwane respected that in her.
"Your highness," he said with a perplexed grin, "that---that will take years."
"Then let it take years," she yelled, "inform Mackenzie Chancellor of defense of the project which he will be taking on. I am giving him five years to bring everything together. Then, while the rebels sleep silently in their camps we will strike! And all the leaders will be brought before me."
"Aye, ma'am," he said obediently. He rose from his chair and bowed. He turned on his heel and exited more ferociously than usual.
"ROW," Maxima whispered to herself as her chamber door slammed closed.
ROW is where she could find out about all of her questions on ‘love making' and that thing called homosexuality. She would go there, to one of their camps and learn everything she wanted to know. For talking about them with intellects was simply tabu. Plus she wanted a taste of what she was about to have killed off.
In a rush of urgency and excitement she dressed herself in her old battle uniform and threw a black coverall over her body, lifting the hood completely over her head. Stealthily she scaled the palace wall and headed for the closest ROW camp sight.

***


"So, you want to join ROW," the man dressed in orange asked Sarah. She stood inside the ‘application' tent. It was rather bare. A cot in one corner, a desk in the direct middle, and a dresser next to the cot., and a rifle by the head of the cot.
"Yes," she said calmly.
"Alright," he said drawing a piece of paper from the desk, "just sign here saying you aren't some kind of spy and that if you are we get to kill you. The usual."
"I agree to your terms," she said unamused by his joke. She signed the paper with a quill pen and gathered her belongings.
"By the way, I like your blond hair, and that blood stain," the man said pointing to both. Sarah looked at the places where Kanto's blood had spilled on her.
"Battle wound," she lied. Hoping it would impress him. It appeared to work.
"The other guys I hope," he said as she exited the tent and into the camp sight.
The ROW camp sight was set up like a small city, except where the buildings would be, tents took the place. Grey tents were lined up on either side, with the entrances facing the walk way between the row of tents. Making it look like a sort of old western town.
There was a tent for everything: bars, restaraunts, town hall, ammunition, armory, homes, etc. This was to be her new home...one where she wasn't wanted for a crime. A crime she wasn't even why she commited.

***


"Well! I do not care what she says! The queen is completely and utterly mad," a man cloaked in armor yelled at Cwane.
"Please calm your self, Mackenzie," Cwane said agitated. He knew Mackenzie was hot tempered. It's what won him the spot for Chancellor of defense.
"Ha! Calm my self you say," he yelled, waving his arms wildly about, "How can I calm myself when she wants a full prison built just to house some mesally rebels. It's a waist of man power. My men could be protecting the peace, but instead she wishes them to stand guard at some prison!"
"Please, your men still get to use force," he reminded him, "they will also be raiding the villages."
"Please! That is not worthy of my men or my attention! And you," Mackenzie said angrily and pointing to a man who was siting quietly in a chair, "Mock! You do not object to this preposterous idea? Your men will be wasting their strength and the country's resources to build an outrageous and nonsensical prison."
Mock Chancellor of Structure development, was silent through out the entire debate, "Mackenzie, I do believe you are over reacting. Do not think of it as a housing for just ROW's but other criminals also. This way, with your wonderful way of keeping the peace we will keep Weblow safe," he said lightly. "We will be housing other criminals there won't we Cwane," he asked hopefully.
"But of course, gentlemen," he said convincingly, ‘"Now, Mock, as I had stated before, you have five years to design and construct a monstrous under ground prison facility. And you Mackenzie, prepare you men for a war, for I feel a civil war is on it's bloody way."
"You better hope you are wrong," Mackenzie threatened, "for there is no worse deed then mass murder of you own people."
"It isn't murder," Cwane tried to say, "it's war!"