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Margaret Anne Teela. The last Human-Centauri hybrid her world would know. Of course, she wasn't alone in her biracialness; there were other children, all much older than her though. She felt alone sometimes, and school didn't help. Her birth was no accident, no matter how the other children at school tormented her; her parents were betrothed almost a century before she was born. An old promise, she was told; made by two gullible noble families.
When Earth first made contact with the Centauri, they were told that their world (Beta 9) was an old, long-lost Centauri colony. Several on Earth believed it, including her ancestors, the Westcombs – an old European family with just enough royal blood to be privileged like one. But only a few went as far as to promise a descendent of theirs to a Centauri noble's descendent. The Teela family was a smaller noble house, but they knew that having a betrothal several generations into the future would increase their power and pocketbooks. And so, her mother Josephine and her father Anton, as the eleventh generation after the promise was made, were married and produced a child (Margaret Anne) about a year later.
Now you might be thinking “eleventh generation? Why eleventh?” Well, the answer is simple; while all the other Centauri noble houses were promising ten generations in advance, (ten being some sort of lucky number), the Teelas had to outdo them all and go for the eleventh generation. Pure arrogance; the simple need to be different than all the others.
While almost all of Earth was outraged when they discovered that Centauri and Humans weren't related, the Westcombs did not mind the “clerical error” made by confusing Beta 9 and Beta 12. Instead, they readily accepted the information and kept their promise to the Teelas; figures, since it gave them power and prestige in the outer circles of EarthGov
Listening to stories about her ancestors and the ancient promise, Margaret Anne couldn't help but wonder if they thought about her when they made that promise.
Did they think about how different I would be, how isolated, being a generation behind the others? How shunned I would be by my fellow nobles? By the xenophobes? By society in general?
These questions often filled her head when she lay awake in her room, looking out at the stars from behind the canopy covering her bed. Hugging tightly the stuffed toy her cousin made for her, Margaret Anne lay awake for the next hour and a half, pondering her role in society and life.
Oh Gwenydd, how I wish you were here to talk to....
Gwenydd. Her favorite cousin, only 3 years older. When they were younger, they'd call each other on the StellarComm from across the neighborhood late at night, careful not to wake their parents as they talked and giggled and listened. But now, Gwen was on Davo, too far away to make the calls without her father's accountant noticing the charge. And, just now becoming comfortable as a 15 year old girl, Margaret Anne found she needed her cousin more than ever. But with several hundred lightyears between them, the stuffed bunny Gwenydd had made for her would have to suffice.
She hugged the toy rabbit close and stared out at the stars, waiting for morning.