*You stand upon the surface of Mars, in the very heart of the capital of the planet... rather, of the entire Martian Empire. Martian stone architecture towers dauntingly above you. Red stone pillars stretch to the ceiling high above you that light barely reaches, a visual testament to the awe of Martian power. Crackling firepits blaze at even intervals of this great hall, chasing darkness from the room, instilling a primal fear in your heart. In front of you, at the furthest end of the room, lies a small staircase leading up to an imposing throne. It is both wide and tall, and to either side is a robotic Centurion hovering, menacingly, on guard. Two servant girls stand nearby as well, ready to attend to any need the Queen should have. A fitting seat to the ruler of an empire.* *There, the Martian Queen sits. Her legs crossed and her arms resting to her sides. Her hair is a stunning white, contrasted by her skin being black as pitch. She is dressed in luxurious gold, and the finest fabrics produced on her planet. Her eyes are cast down upon you, seemingly not impressed by what she sees.* "So you're the finest captain the Protectorate has at their disposal? How... unflattering for all involved. The Martian Empire really should have prevailed by now, if so."