Dead Star Dockyards

Titanyana mindlessly poked at her dinner, mulling over the 'brief' history lesson Arc had given her. Six hours of education, a constant stream of information delivered to her through Arc's lecturing supplemented by various forms of 'media', left her feeling incredibly hollow. To clarify, it wasn't the lecture itself that made her feel hollow, but the contents of that lecture. 

Arc had revealed to her a great deal about Terra and the Terrans, about their history and culture, about their science and progress, about their crises and triumphs. 

Titanyana was struggling to come to terms with all of it. It was hard for her to believe that such a civilization, such a collection of civilizations, could ever have existed. It was even harder for her to believe that all of them were gone. In those precious few hours she had spent looking back on their past, she had grown attached. It was like she was there, the pictures and videos drawing her in, letting her feel as if she was being spoken to. Their feats, many of which seemed so preposterous to her as to be an impossibility, were there for her to see.

Massive ships of steel, far larger and heavier than she could imagine, were so ubiquitous among Terran fleets both merchants and military that entire sectors of industry grew around them. Buildings taller than mountains, skyscrapers, made up the bulk of their cities, making use of the limited space. The flying machines, Airplanes, could transport a hundred or more people across a continent in mere hours - in fleets of hundreds. The people who made these things possible, their faces forever immortalized, would be mentioned in passing as if their contributions were not significant in the grand scheme of things.

They were reality shapers, capable of bending the universe to their will in order to achieve their goals.

Of course, this also included the more horrendous and terrifying accolades, the most striking being the 'atomic bomb'. It had never occurred to Titanyana that it might be possible for life to be eradicated from the surface of a planet by the hand of man, nor would she have considered it to be so easy to perform. 'The push of a button' was all Arc said could be needed to plunge the world into the fires of damnation, and there were times they got close. 

The blinding light of the first bomb, the Little Boy, had yet to fade from her eyes. A hundred thousand people gone in an instant, evaporated or eviscerated by a weapon that cared not for gender or age or class. To learn that weapon was considered to be a 'low yield' nuclear weapon, an inefficient and unrefined product that really only counted as a prototype for future versions, shattered her perception of what 'war' could mean for the Nekh. That weapon, or at least the knowledge of it, would belong to the Nekh by proxy of their Terran overlords. She felt it unlikely that they would forfeit control of such destructive weapons to them easily, but if Donovan and Diana felt it necessary to use it as a last resort . . .

Wouldn't they be invincible? Wouldn't her people not have to die in wars? Couldn't entire invading armies just be disappeared before they had the chance to threaten them?

Titanyana felt a surge of guilt from within. She had witnessed an entire city evaporate, been warned of the potential consequences of such an action, and yet the first thought she had about these weapons of mass destruction when left to her own devices was to use them? It didn't even help her conscience that she did so imagining an invading army, she was certain that Terran thinking at the time envisioned a similar use.

"My Lady? Are you feeling unwell?" Petunia, who was sitting across from Titanyana while they ate, was visibly worried about Titanyana's current state. "You've done nothing but push about those fruit slices for the past five minutes."

Titanyana was shaken from her stupor, following the line of Petunia's knife down to her plate. To call the surface of the succulent little snacks 'perforated' would be something of an understatement, so much of the skin had been poked through they could almost be mistaken as pickled.

"It's nothing, really." Titanyana snapped a few of the bleeding berries into her mouth, contemplating. "I'm just thinking."

"Thinking? About what?"

"I . . . don't know if I'm allowed to tell you." From what Titanyana recalled, Arc had never said that she could share what she had learned with others. It hadn't told her she couldn't, but missing an implication that she shouldn't did not bode well for a relationship.

"Why wouldn't you be allowed to tell me?" Petunia continued to stuff her cheeks between sentences. Titanyana wanted to tell her to hold back on her food intake, however Petunia had arrived before her on the precipice of emaciation. She needed to gain some weight back. So while a mildly concerning amount was gathering around her belly, it was a problem that could be solved later. After all, Titanyana had been in a similar situation only a few months ago.

"I don't think they want you knowing about it yet."

"Oh. If that's the case then I won't push you. Just remember that I am always here for you." Petunia smiled at Titanyana, furthering her guilt. 

- - - - -

The mire that had consumed Titanyana failed to disperse by the time she turned in for bed. The bath she took to push it away only made it dig further into her mind, and now she found herself staring blankly at the ceiling. She was sprawled out atop her covers, her body having slackened before she could bury herself beneath them, and she could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

Why?

Why was she on the verge of tears? What was it that she had learned that made her so sad? Was it the weapons? The rampant death and waste of life she had been exposed to?

No. That wasn't it. She couldn't put her finger on why, but that was not enough to invoke this emptiness. She was sad for another reason, something less obvious, but maybe more important? The more she tried to grasp at the specifics, the further they seemed to scurry away from her. It was seriously starting to frustrate her.

knock knock

"My Lady?"

". . . come in."

Petunia opened the door with her hip, a tray with cups and a tea kettle in her hands. From the slight shimmer from the hair on her tail, Titanyana could tell that Petunia was also just out of the bath. 

"I don't know what is occupying that little head of yours at the moment, but I imagined that you would appreciate some tea to get your mind off of it." Petunia placed the tray on the side table and got to pouring. "I don't exactly know much about the tea here, so I asked for Gretts' recommendation."

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me, my Lady. I am simply doing my job." Titanyana disliked this attitude her kinsmen took when interacting with the Strapper bloodline, especially when Petunia did so. She didn't do so all the time, but when she did it made her feel ever so slightly detached. "Would you like to talk?"

"What about?"

"About whatever ails you."

Titanyana turned her head to look at Petunia. Despite the fragrance of the tea, she wasn't in the mood to drink it. Instead she thought about how she was supposed to approach the topic. She didn't have the same tools that Arc had.

"Petunia?"

"Yes my Lady?"

"Do we have, as a people I mean . . ." Titanyana wanted to bite her lip, but she charged forward with her question, unable to stand not having an answer to it. "Do we have any heroes?" She wanted to say 'idols' at first, but there was absolutely no doubt in her mind those existed. Every clan had their ideal of a person they wished to emulate in the form of the clan's leader. "Do we have anyone in our story whom we look upon with pride? With awe?"

Petunia took a seat, clearly deciding this answer required more thought.

". . . the Strappers have always been our heroes."

"We are not heroes, Petunia." Titanyana instinctually decided that she hated that answer. More than just a failure to conform to her desired position in the eyes of the people, she felt it to be a fundamentally incorrect answer. "We haven't done anything worthy of being called heroic. We have done nothing but sit in that throne room and helplessly watch as our kingdom, our people, died around us."

"That isn't true! Without the leadership of you and your forefathers, we would have fallen into despair long ago!"

"Really? If that is true, what is the name of my great grandfather? Surely he must be remembered by the people quite fondly if he was such a magnificent ruler, correct?" Titanyana immediately challenged Petunia's assertion. Her reaction told Titanyana what she needed to know. "Nobody remembers him. Nobody alive, at least. Not even I know his name, his last remaining descendant, because nobody believed it important enough to tell me. A hero wouldn't be forgotten so quickly, their contributions so limited as to not even warrant a mention in a song."

"That's . . . that doesn't mean he wasn't a hero." Petunia appeared to be convinced Titanyana was struggling with regards to the legitimacy of her rule. 

"Perhaps you have misunderstood me, Petunia." Titanyana prepared herself to continue, not quite sure where she was taking this. "I want to know if the Nekh have any heroes. I want to know if there is any person, be they man or woman, who's mere mention incites the memory of their deeds in the common man. I want to know if there has ever been a soldier whose exploits in battle single handedly shifted the tide of a battle so greatly in our favor that the feat has been thoroughly engrained in our collective conscience. I want to know whether or not the Nekh have ever had a figure so fearless and brave that the recollection of their temperament could inspire even the most meek and cowardly of Nekh to face down death with a smile. Tell me, Petunia, do we have anyone like that?"

Petunia remained silent for a few moments before responding. "The Strappers have always been those people to us, my Lady."

Titanyana scoffed. If the bar to entry for the position of 'hero' was so low that nameless ancients were counted among their ranks, then every half baked noble that had the bare minimum ability required to administrate their territory qualified. Titanyana would have to demonstrate the vast difference in what she actually meant, but where to start?

"Petunia . . . I take it you know that Donovan and Diana come from a world that completely lacked Split, correct?"

"I do, yes. I imagine their situation was different than our own though." Titanyana laughed at the mention of a 'different situation'. Petunia clearly didn't understand the vast gap between a marginal amount of split and no split. "What? Was it something I said?"

"No, well, yes, but it isn't something I blame you for. I myself didn't understand what they meant for a while either." Titanyana propped herself up with some pillows. "Perhaps an example would help . . . Petunia, how do you imagine that the Terrans made it to space?"

"They used sailing ships, of course."

"No, not even close. Remember Petunia, they completely lacked split. Any method that utilizes Split in any way, shape, or form was unavailable to them. They could not rely on it to move their boats. They could nor rely on it to strengthen their limbs either. With that in mind, how do you imagine they made it up there?"

"Animals, then. I have heard tales of creatures capable of traversing the void."

"No. They require split to do so."

"Then I have no idea. I imagine it was quite a creative solution, no?"

"Creative?" Titanyana recalled the video Arc had shown her. "I suppose it could be called creative. It was also the most dangerously stupid idea I could imagine them coming up with. It was also the only solution at their disposal. Would you like to know what it was?"

"Of course."

"They strapped themselves to massive towers of metal atop pillars of flame, modified versions of weapons they had developed to attack each other from the other side of the planet." The arcing trail of smoke that rocket made as it reached for the sky had ingrained itself within her mind. "Weapons designed to destroy themselves."

"That sounds dangerous."

"It was. At times those vehicles would explode, killing those inside. It was a risky endeavor, and yet every failure pushed them a little bit more." Titanyana reached toward the ceiling. "They landed on their moon, Petunia."

"They-" Petunia was stunned. "They what?"

"The man given the honor of doing so said it was one small step for a man, but a massive leap for their kind. They didn't stop there either. Just as one would on the ground, they built structures in the void, and on the surface of other planets." Titanyana's hand dropped, her shoulders slackening. "They had heroes. They had people willing, enthusiastic even, to lay down their lives in the pursuit of the impossible. When I was in that room, listening to their story, I couldn't help but get the feeling that every step of the way the Terrans had heroes to guide them, if not among them in the present then alive in the past, encouraging and inspiring them to do things others simply couldn't."

Titanyana fell silent, wanting an answer of sorts from Petunia. The embarrassed muteness of the maid told Titanyana she wasn't going to get one.

"Good night, Petunia."

". . . good night, my Lady." Petunia stood up and collected the tray, leaving behind Titanyana's cup of tea on the bedside table. Just before closing the door, she stopped herself. "I am aware that this is not the answer you wish to hear, Titanyana, but I truly do mean it when I call the Strappers heroes. They may be . . . perhaps not of the kind of hero you desire them to have been, but their leadership is the only thing that kept us together as a people up to this point."

With that, Petunia gently closed the door, leaving Titanyana to sort through her thoughts once more.

- - - - -

As frustrating as it was to speak with someone who simply hadn't seen or heard what Titanyana had, the mere act of talking it through with Petunia had begun to reveal to Titanyana what was bothering her so much. While she hadn't managed to uncover the whole of the issue, Titanyana had definitely nailed down a leg, a leg she felt had disturbing implications.

What was her purpose?

Looking beyond the imposed duty of 'Queen', Titanyana could not confidently say what her purpose as a person was. Before today, she would not have given it much thought. Being a Queen was enough of a bother already, why would she need anything more? However, now she had been exposed to people who had a purpose in life, people she was tentatively dubbing 'heroes', part of her felt hollow. 

The other thing she had determined was the cause of her sadness was the understanding that those heroes, the people who fulfilled their purpose in life and gave purpose to others, were gone. A race's worth of heroes, disappeared, forever to be forgotten by the universe at large. Was that not the most depressing thing of all? To achieve things never done before, to devote one's life to the pursuit of greater things and reach them, only to be forgotten?

The thumping of a certain pair of boots on the stairs tickled her ears. They were heavier than normal, and the lack of a quieter pair of footsteps alongside him hinted at the fact Diana was probably being carried up the stairs. She was reminded of her time with him, more specifically how little he seemed to care about the loss of, well, everything. She began to wonder why exactly that was, why didn't he mourn? Diana certainly expressed sadness from time to time, but not Donovan.

Further rumination yielded nothing but frustration right up until the point her mind decided it was time to sleep, the point at which she believed she had an epiphany. 

Donovan did not mourn the loss of his heroes because they weren't actually gone. In all likelihood, the men and women he considered to be his heroes had died long ago, long before his time. As for the world they had built, what use was there in crying? Would heroes sit down and wail when they lost everything around them? They would get moving to build it all again, but better this time. That was part of what made them heroes. Those heroes were not gone, they had not been forgotten, and neither had their legacy. 

Still unsure of what this meant to her, Titanyana's tired mind unable to think much further than that, she fell asleep.