Dead Star Dockyards

Ugly  .  .  .  Hideous  .  .  .  Abominable

Countless adjectives of a similar bend filtered through Donovan's mind as he stared at the hunk of mediocre quality steel before him. Within him lay the equivalent of hundreds of years of innovation in the field of ship design, and yet his first original creation represented the violation of that experience's core tenets. In Donovan's opinion, his expert opinion, the Pegasus was an awful design.

This attitude of his towards the Pegasus stemmed from the generalist nature of the ship. This, by itself, was an unforgiveable sin. Sure, making a ship capable of many things might be desirable, but making one capable of everything was another matter entirely. On a basic level, the frustration stemmed from the reality that systems took up space and energy, meaning a bigger ship.

To be more complex, Donovan hated that nothing about the Pegasus could be optimized. Optimization, by definition, required that the subject have a task to be optimized to, compromising with other capabilities in the process. If your task was 'do everything', then you could only make it 'do everything'. If you wanted to make a vessel with tons of storage space you would usually cut back on the space allocated to the living quarters, and vice versa. If you wanted a ship to be fast and maneuverable, it needed to dedicate a greater portion of its mass and volume to acceleration. If you wanted a ship to have a lot of firepower and high survivability, it needed to be bigger. 

How did you make a ship with lots of living room, lots of cargo space, lots of firepower, relatively high survivability, and an acceptable range of acceleration and turning values? You made it large. 

What if you wanted to add more capabilities to it, such as the capacity to haul, land, and perform detailed scans of both a spatial and planetary environment? That's right, you made it even bigger. 

How about giving it the capacity to operate in atmosphere and land on the ground? Some of those fragile components needed to be reinforced against ambient gravity while at rest, which meant orienting some of the equipment a certain direction, increasing the space they take up and introducing a definite 'down' to the craft. More space.

Donovan thought he could accept this obscene inefficiency when he looked at the plans. After all, he and Arc had done everything in their power to optimize the design to accomplish the most important tasks. However, seeing it in person was different. It was the physical manifestation of everything wrong with his situation.

They lacked the manpower to operate multiple ships, which meant they needed to spend their precious resources in inefficient ways in order to move forward. They lacked a strong party they could trust unconditionally, so they had to ensure they could be self-sufficient. They lacked experience in interstellar travel, so they needed to install backup after backup after safeguard in order avoid a catastrophic failure.

Truly, the Pegasus was just as ugly as their predicament.

"It's marvelous." Unfortunately, he looked to be the only one who thought that way, probably because he was the only one who knew what was possible. "Finally, we actually get to go places!"

Diana's enthusiasm was not shared by Donovan in the slightest. Sure, he recognized the options that having the Pegasus opened up to them, namely the fact it would allow them to go just about anywhere in this galaxy, but his mind was focused on something a little bit more abstract.

Was he really necessary? He wasn't thinking about this in terms of his role. Without a man the whole plan to keep the Terran race alive would fail before it started. Donovan was thinking more about the necessity of him, the person, Donovan. Up to this point, what meaningful feat had he achieved that could not realistically have been done by anyone else?

With regards to the Pegasus, his input seemed relatively minimal. Arc handled the 'optimization', if it could be called that, while their situation more than his strategy dictated the Pegasus' necessary components and capabilities. In a manner of speaking, he was redundant. Affirming what Arc could probably handle already was not his idea of necessity, something that had begun to burn a hole in him.

How about at the academy? While it was certainly true that this place was a gold mine for Diana, she had already secured something of an alliance with an Imperial Prince after all, the same could not be said of Donovan. Nobody here looked to be faster than a bullet, which meant that they could probably still be taken out by one. In other words, the academy wasn't so much providing him a place to learn as it was a distraction from what might be more important matters.

At the same time, he didn't exactly have any 'important matters' to attend to. Sure, time tables were helpful, but they could only be extended out for so long until the number of variables and possibilities that needed to be taken into account - even those still unknown - rendered them largely useless.

Donovan's situation did not allow him to be proactive, a reality that had hit him like a truck in the wake of the squad tournament. He lacked the necessary autonomy, resources, and strength to do things himself. The universe wasn't subject to the same deceit that people were, he couldn't trick it into getting closer so he could hit it with a sword. Without resources and manpower-

"Donny." Diana kissed him on the cheek. "Calm down."

Donovan opened his eyes, reciprocating with a peck on her forehead. He knew that getting mad about it wasn't helping anybody.

"How long until we can leave?" Diana worked her way into his arms, back to chest.

"Two days." Donovan squeezed her a little bit. "I need two days to check everything and make sure I'm rested."

"Wonderful. That's just enough time for me to say goodbye to everyone." Diana shook herself into a more comfortable position. "Its also enough time to plan out what movies to watch with Titanyana. I'm thinking Star Wars and the Lord of the Rings are a good start."

"Movies? Why?"

"I think Titanyana would benefit from some exposure to the best of our cinema, and the others don't really need to understand the words to be entertained by them."

"Hm." Donovan thought it sounded a bit interesting, but he wouldn't be able to join them. He was not going to leave the cockpit for the maiden voyage. 

"Of course, I will only be showing her the prequel and original trilogies for Star Wars, and maybe the Hobbit movies, but I am not touching the disgraces to storytelling that happened the 2010's and 2020's. I will never forgive the megacorporations for that!" Diana shook her fist in the air.

"They're already gone, Diana." She had a few 'grievances' with people and groups from history in relation to film, music, or other such artistic mediums. They rose up somewhat randomly, but Donovan didn't mind. 

"They may be gone, but the proof of their actions live on!"

"Alright. I'll leave you to your crusade. I've got to go see 'Chestnut' and the Great Csillacra."

Diana turned her head up. "Why?"

"I have to get Mercedes for one, but there's also something the Great Csillacra wanted to talk to me about. I think it had something to do with where Sol is going to be placed."

"The sun?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you want to put it?"

"Secret. Is there somewhere you want to put it?"

"I don't care. Obviously I want it close to our new home in case I want to get sentimental, but otherwise I don't want much to do with it. It's not like there's anything of use there." She took one of his hands and nuzzled a cheek against it. "I'm sure you don't think so though."

Donovan nearly chastised her lack of imagination, but held off.

"You know, every boy dreams of having a secret base. I'll be the first to have one in space."

"So you'll be making it a black ops site?"

"Its a secret base."

"A final fortress for us and our children?"

"I'm not telling."

"Is it, perhaps, a little love den for us to go when we are tired?"

"If you keep pestering me about it, you won't be invited."

"How mean!" 

- - - - -

"Hello baby dawg." Donovan indulged Mercedes' playful approach with the baby voice one might expect. "How has my doggy been? Have you been a good girl? Yes!"

Mercedes's tail thumped repeatedly on the grass as she presented her sides for belly rubs. A lot of hair was coming off of her as Donovan committed to the rubs, she was shedding again. Donovan made a silent note in his mind, the air filters on the Pegasus needed to be checked regularly, not that Arc would ever forget. 

"Can I have kisses? Kisses?" Donovan rubbed his face in Mercedes' neck, riling her up into a little bit of play wrestling. A dog would never win in a contest of grappling, but it didn't stop one from having fun doing so. 

"Ok, sit!" Mercedes stopped when Donovan disengaged before scrambling to a seated position. "Down." She obeyed. "Roll." A few more strands of hair mixed into the grass. "Paw."

"Having fun?" The Arboreal Maiden sat down next to Donovan as Mercedes extended a paw, tongue happily lolling to the side. 

"Yeah. Thanks for keeping her in line."

"It was my pleasure." Mercedes, recognizing her little test to be over, flopped into Donovan's lap. "She was a welcome distraction for both myself and the Skwiven."

"Can we wait a bit before we get to business?"

"Of course." The Arboreal Maiden allows a vine from the floor to wrap around her wrist. "It appears that the Great Csillacra wishes to speak to you in private, was there something it wished to give you?"

"Sort of." Donovan recalled the cover story they had come up with. "Do you remember how the Great Csillacra collected dust of rarer elements for us to use?"

"Vaguely."

"Do you remember how one of our acquaintances gifted me a dagger of an element not on our periodic table?"

"I do. Seahrdrin, correct?"

"Yes. The Great Csillacra offered to collect minute amounts of other such substances for Arc to analyze when he has the time. Some of them might be radioactive or harmful in other ways, so it offered to construct a container for it."

"And that warrants a private conversation?"

"Then maybe there's something more it wants to talk about? I can't exactly read minds, you know." Mercedes grumbled a little, dissatisfied with Donovan's attention being elsewhere. "Maybe it just wants to talk with someone else, a new conversation partner."

"Whatever, I suppose it isn't that important. Have you made up your mind as to where Sol is going to be placed? If you are going to have a conversation with the Great Csillacra anyways, you might as well tell it yourself."

Donovan felt relief that the Arboreal Maiden left the issue there. He was not nearly as adept at the sort of conversational subterfuge concealing his true intentions would require.

"Are there any restrictions on where I can place it?"

"It needs to be within a reasonable distance from the Great Csillacra, and it should be a decent distance from the nearest star. Aside from that, there shouldn't be any issues."

"No restrictions?"

"Aside from those I mentioned, no."

"Absolutely no restrictions?"

"There are no restrictions aside from those." The Arboreal Maiden made known her coming irritation, but still humored Donovan. 

"And this range, is it spherical?"

". . . how do you mean?"

"I noticed that all of the star maps display them as if they lie along a plane." Donovan ruffled Mercedes' ears.

"They aren't perfectly flat, but they do roughly lie along a plane."

"Am I restricted to that plane?" Donovan could hear the Arboreal Maiden's grip around her staff tighten. "I want to hide it in a place people won't be looking."

"And you plan to do so in the place that will make it the most conspicuous?"

"A dead star? Conspicuous? Tell me, what about it would stand out? The light?" Donovan knew that there was some level of astrological position keeping in this universe. Such a practice was undoubtedly as important for sailors of the stars as it was for Donovan's ancestors restrained to the sea, a nigh unchanging array of points and vectors that could tell you where you were. All it would take was one observant navigator noticing a star out of place to reveal Sol's location. Of course, they would have to actually see it.

"Even if there is no light to see it, I am certain that someone will find its signature eventually."

"How long until that happens?"

"Well, they would have to develop-"

"So long after I have had the opportunity to expand my borders beyond what a rudimentary device's range would be?"

". . . I suppose you are right." The Arboreal Maiden sighed. "I wonder what you'll be doing with it. Perhaps a dark fortress watching over the galaxy with an imperious gaze?"

"You're smart enough to know that above and below aren't real."

"Oh? So your impenetrable fortress will be below everyone then?"

"If your map's z-axis is the same as mine, then sure." Donovan pushed Mercedes off of his lap, pulling her to lay along his leg instead. "And I don't think it'll be a fortress. Space is large enough to hide one of those anywhere, including the dark void of interstellar space."

"Will you use it for resources?"

"I'd rather just collect from systems I have a workforce in. Jumping between systems to get to the consumers and operators adds an additional step that doesn't seem necessary to me from a logistical standpoint. Those same resources should exist in the asteroid belts of other stars."

"So you will abandon your home?"

"Home? Home died with the rest of humanity." Donovan turned to the Arboreal Maiden. She was frowning, the look in her eyes suggesting it was genuine. "Diana brought up the possibility of a black operations site, which isn't a bad idea all things considered, but it doesn't feel appropriate."

"So you'll leave it as is? A memorial to the home you lost?"

". . . no. To Diana and I, Arc has become that memorial. The knowledge and culture of our people lie within him." Donovan scratched Mercedes' chin. "I want to turn Sol into Arc and I's laboratory, a black site where we can interrogate the universe, punching and ripping knowledge out of it."

"That is a rather inelegant description."

"Despite what you may have been led to believe, the scientific method is not an elegant process. Perhaps the only field which has found solutions in the elegant and efficient manner you think of is in the realm of mathematics, a field of 'science' that is perfect by design. The real world does not conform to such perfection."