Dead Star Dockyards

"I love you, Grandpa."

There were tears streaking down the young lady's cheeks. While she was not at the point of crying her heart out, nor would she ever be, she realized that this was likely going to be the single hardest moment in her life to overcome.

"Why does it have to be like this? Why is this happening?"

She was clinging so tightly to the elder that most would be concerned about fracturing ribs. In response to her force, the old man gently pulled her head of golden hair closer to his chest and began slowly rocking to and fro.

He didn't have an answer for her. He didn't have an answer for anybody. He, the man who knew the most about the impending catastrophe didn't even know why it was happening. The Captain had used relatively simple words and terms such as 'breach', 'perimeter', 'wave', and 'broken', but this talk of Split was far beyond his level of comprehension.

He was a Psychologist, not some sort of Physicist, and yet he had forced himself to tell this lie for ten straight years to the child who lived with him. His granddaughter couldn't stay with him for this period of time for fear of exposing the secret, even though she too was vital in the plan's execution.

Oh, his little Diana, how much he wanted to say her golden hair reminded him of his wife's or his daughter's, but their's was jet black and had a natural curl to it. Diana's hair had some natural waviness, and she was fond of letting it grow extremely long. He knew that there was little to no similarities between their blood in the category of hair.

In fact, if it weren't for the fact that Draco was intensely involved with his daughter, even before her parents had met, he would have been fully convinced that there was no relation between them at all.

"Come now darling, you know I've only got a few years left to live at most. Do you really want to watch me suffer all the way?"

It was a little white lie. He didn't know when his death was coming, but his doctor told him he had at least another decade before even mental decay started kicking in.

"I didn't want to watch you suffer, I just wanted to be there when it was time to say goodbye."

Her sniffles had mostly cleared up at this point. Diana had been aware of this eventuality since pretty much day one. She had been chosen as the ideal candidate once the defense council was made well and truly aware of the hopelessness of their situation.

She had had ample time to steel herself mentally and emotionally, but she was just too empathetic for her own good, friends and teachers often referred to her as the the biggest softy of her generation.

It was those same qualities that added to her being viewed as the ideal candidate.

It was truly a shame that the combined intellectual and industrial might of the inner ring could only scrounge up enough material to barely safeguard two people, and one of those people would have to be locked in stasis.

"I know, but allowing that would mean that you would die as well. I will not permit you to doom the future for momentary comfort. If you have any regrets, requests, or questions, now is the time to tell them to me. You won't have another chance."

He forcefully changed the subject, any further deliberation on that matter would only cause her resolve to waver.

"My only regret is that I couldn't spend more time with you."

"Do you hold a grudge against Donovan for that? Do you hold a grudge against me?"

"No. I only hold a grudge against myself for not being trustworthy enough to not spill the secret. It's my own fault I wasn't able to be with you."

"Then do you have any questions? Material requests? I understand you have had a long time to prepare yourself, but if you've remembered anything you need me to do there is still time to get it."

She was still melancholic, but had stopped crying.

"I've already weaned myself off of sweets and pawned off most of my jewelry and clothes, so I couldn't possibly ask for any of those. I can't exactly ask for a puppy either. Hmmmm. Could I ask for as many cultural and historical records as possible?"

"You already know that information is being compiled. Think of something better. I want to give you one last gift."

"Why do you need to make it so hard?"

"So that you will focus on something that will make you happy."

"Bleh." She stuck her tongue out, completely used to his tendencies to trick her into feeling better. It helped her morale, sure, but it made her feel like she lost agency. Maybe, just maybe, she could get him back this one last time.

"In that case, could you use your Jedi mind trick science to make Donovan love me? I don't want to be stuck with someone who refuses to give me affection for the rest of my life."

"Oh? What's this? My little moon goddess has a crush on a mere mortal? I never would have guessed!"

Her ploy ended up being used against her. Foolishly, she had assumed that her grandfather would be reluctant to give away the hand of his grand daughter. Diana had forgotten that 'Doctor Helmsguard' had both absolute confidence in Donovan and was prepared for them to be together (in more ways than one) since she was ten.

She had little doubt he had manipulated her in subtle ways to at least not find him repulsive.

He had probably been doing something along those lines while he was living with Donovan, implanting the idea in his head that his precious grandbaby's personality and figure were both the peak of attractiveness, though he had insisted many times pornographic materials were not used.

Her cheeks went pink at his sarcasm, and she squeezed his arm out of frustration. She could never win an argument or teasing contest against him, something that her counterpart and future partner apparently could if their few dinnertime exchanges were to be believed.

"Alright then, my precious little baby, I will grant you the man of your dreams. But only if you sleep in your crystal casket. Don't you know your prince charming needs to wake you with a true love's kiss?"

He slowly peeled her off of him, laying her down in the stasis chamber.

"I'll miss you." She had given up on resisting, the sooner she could be put in stasis, the less she would have to suffer in his presence.

Draco could only offer a weak smile in turn, fully closing and sealing the lid. A sharp pop indicating that the machine was now working, his pride and joy little more than a statue frozen in time.

- - - - -

"Report: Stasification of operator code 0-1, Diana Helmsguard, has been completed with no apparent irregularities."

"Thank you ARCS, you can recess the stasis chamber now."

He had a little bit of free time until Donovan would be due to arrive. Maybe he could get some tea from a vendor on station.

"Objection: I once again insist that the 'S' be dropped from my name Doctor."

"Sorry ARC." He put an emphasis on the name this time. "I hope you'll forgive me."

He strolled the few feet to the exit, ARC activating the elevator to take him down without receiving a request for it. He once again marveled at its agency and ability to make inferences.

Reaching a stop, he stepped off the elevator and made his way towards the door, loathing the length of the carrier and how the walk would strain his arthritic joints.

"Now . . . I wonder if I can do anything about her request for a puppy . . ."

- - - - -

"I'll miss you."

They were the last three words she had spoken to her beloved grandfather. She had thought about what they would be for a very long time.

Sometimes, she thought that an expression of her grief would be a good choice, other times believing that reassuring her grandfather she would be okay was a better idea.

She landed on those words because they were simple, and because anything else she could possibly say to her grandfather, he already knew.

It was the only think she could think of that would bring comfort to her only family member, an affirmation that even in the absence of his presence, he would be somewhere in her mind and heart.

A click informed her that stasification was imminent, but not even half a second passed before the second click denoting that her destasification was complete registered in her ears.

It was strange this feeling, jumping forward in time. In the blink of an eye, months had passed with no change at all to her body.

That wasn't entirely true, there was a little bit of pulsation in parts of her body where time dilation had been the slightest fraction different than the parts around it, resulting in a miniscule differential in blood pressure and tissue tension.

Nauseating for about a minute, but not really much in comparison to the strangeness of ignoring time. In fact, if she hadn't been expressly told this information by the field mechanics that instructed her on this device's usage, she would have assumed the nausea was borne of the dim light and cramped interior. A sort of claustrophobia or instinctual fear of being buried.

The lid opened by itself, revealing an exterior devoid of one of the most important figures in her life. What it lacked in visual hospitality it made up for with smell, a sweet but not overpowering aroma with some undertones of what she thought might be bleach.

A cleaning solution then.

"Welcome back operator code 0-1, Diana Helmsguard. A precursory scan of your body indicates nothing extreme has occurred. Does anything feel out of place?"

"No, I'm fine ARC. Thank you for asking." While not necessarily a surprise, ARC's linguistic progress was shocking. To her, it hadn't even been an hour since it last spoke. "What's with the detergent?"

"I decided that before I woke you, I would clean the cabin of the detritus left behind by Donovan. While he is not apparently in a life threatening condition, stomach acid, blood, and urine were among the liquids on the floor. Fearing that it might invoke some unaccounted for reaction after destasification, I took the liberty of cleaning both the floor and air in a manner that would not be considered repulsive to your eyes and nose."

"Thank you for that, then. By the way, where is he?"

"I am not privy to his specific location, however the Captain should be aware. According to the external sensors, the Captain has already returned and taken up a position in the vicinity of the Noah. Before exiting however, there are a number of tasks that I believe would be of great benefit for you to complete."

"The post stasis stretching, I know."

"While those are on the list, there are a further few that I would like you to perform so as to assist in your efforts to build rapport with those aboard the Oberlux. If possible, I would also like to give you a run-down on the situation up to this point as well as a warning towards Donovan's current condition."

She was already out of the box, reaching towards the ceiling before bending, arms outstretched, to grab her toes. She wouldn't say she was the peak of athleticism, but she was proud of her flexibility. The tightness she felt from such a simple stretch was more than she would normally, a side effect of the stasis and an important reason these stretches were done.

"What is it that I should do?"

"I would first recommend changing your clothes into something that would be considered 'civilian'. Judging by the reactions of the people outside to Donovan's attire, they do not seem to think that the flight suits are particularly appealing. Admittedly, Don was not exactly in the most presentable of states, but the general expressions of the Oberlux's crew seemed to be oriented more towards displeasure and confusion."

"If that is the case then I will oblige. First impressions are important towards building a lasting relationship. What is the atmospheric temperature onboard the Oberlux?"

"It appears to be slightly below average room temperature."

"What do the females seem to be wearing, if there are any around."

"If the female called the Healer is anything to go by, then some form of longer dress of oriental descent. I didn't get a visual on any undergarments, but the material it was made of appeared to be a little thick, perhaps to keep warm, but the possibility of it being a sanitation measure is present. There was one other individual that appeared androgynous, but the presence of a similar dress leads me to lean more towards it also being female."

"What portions of skin were they showing?"

"The heels, hands, forearms, and face were exposed, though in the case of forearms I am once again unsure if this was due to a need for an operating area to be clear of obstruction."

"So then I should wear a long sleeved shirt, my sweatpants, and shoes without heels. Probably a more subdued color."

"My apologies Diana, but I think brighter colors would be a better choice given the scheme of their apparel."

Diana nodded her head in recognition. Finished with her stretching, she pulled out one of the many boxes underneath the hole the stasis chamber was in. Opening it revealed it to be full of women's clothing. Diana's clothing.

"Under normal circumstances, I would agree with your assessment. However our current circumstance forbids such happy colors, and likely will for some time."

"My apologies for not having a grasp on the art of fashion, but what exactly precludes you from wearing a color that will invoke a more positive response?"

"It has nothing to do with fashion, ARC, but with expectations. As it stands, Don and I are the last two humans that evolved on Earth, the rest recently killed in a massive catastrophe beyond our ability to control. I think they would be more sympathetic to someone who shows sorrow and grieving than joy."

Despite having had less contact and conversation with ARC than Donovan, Diana was still more than comfortable speaking to it as she would a business acquaintance or fellow student.

In a similar way, she was also just about as familiar with the space as Donovan was, only really lacking any sort of understanding of the cockpit. She could fly the ship if required, a condition enforced by the people in charge of the program quite strictly, but never in her life would Diana consider herself a pilot. She had terrible spatial awareness, paired with an awful reaction time and a tendency to get distracted by the slightest flashing light.

Indeed her ability to fly the ship was poor, but if she was ever in a situation where that was necessary then her skill was still technically passable. This 'passing' grade given only because it would actually take a great effort on her part to damage the Noah.

She had no issue living and operating in the cabin though. In fact, for the past year she had been living in a room that was almost exactly the same. A few minor design changes to the interior had been made over the design iterations, but her opinion was always asked for when they did.

This room went so far as to include having a ladder to get out, so her surprise when ARC revealed that an elevator had been included in the final design was a pleasant surprise to her, evidently some of the technicians had been able to make space for the hoists.

Bidding ARC a temporary farewell, she stepped onto the thin panel. Her clothes weren't flashy, extremely simple designs with a limit on the colors. Then again all of her clothes were like this. The Noah lacked the proper facilities to take care of the more fancy and delicate materials that had been popular for some time.

She ended up donning a matching set of apparel. Her top was a thicker long sleeved shirt made of a cloth that looked fairly rough visually, but had a soft and smooth interior. The sweatpants she wore appeared smoother, creating a slight textural contrast in spite of their similar thicknesses and material make up. They both had a color that rivaled the darkness of the space around the Oberlux, making use of a seaming thread the same shade as her golden hair that further the comparison to a starry sky.

Her shoes were far simpler, but retained the theme. Dark black imitation leather with golden seams and laces.

Despite its simplicity, it was her favorite outfit. Not only was it comfortable, she thought it perfectly complimented her eyes, hair, and paler complexion.

It also didn't exude the sex appeal so prevalent in the modern trends, the relatively loose fit and thick fabric of the clothing working well to hide the specifics of her figure. She didn't like it when others looked at her with lust. If it had been colder, she had an overcoat and scarf available that could be used to further hide this aspect of her.

Truly, this was her absolute most favorite set of clothing. She went so far as to bring three sets of it with her.

Reaching the bottom of the elevator, tablet in her left hand and a bag with some spare clothing for Donovan in her right, she stepped off before taking a look around. This was her first true exposure to extraterrestrial culture, and she wanted to savor it.

The first thing she noticed was the fact that this was not the inside of a hangar, but the surface of a massive structure. The second thing that drew her interest where the dazzling rays of light that shot all around outside of the ship's appendages.

It saddened her, but with these two sights she knew that the life she once knew was well and truly gone.

She pulled her eyes from the distance to the objects a little closer, the great big extrusions that extended from what she considered the main body of the ship. Much like the maple and oak trees she loved to gaze at in the fall, they appeared to be branches without leaves.

In fact everything appeared to be related to trees, everything to do with the structure seemed to be made of wood! Uncut wood!

"The Oberlux is a carved branch of the Great Csillacra." The voice originated from behind her. "Every time I gaze upon it's subtle curves and graceful grain I am filled with a feeling of awe."

"Captain! It has been quite some time since we last talked."

"Indeed lady Diana, it has been far too long since I had the pleasure of conversing with you."

Turning to face her old acquaintance she was only meeting for the first time, she was met with a strange, but not unexpected, sight.

"I once again apologize for my incompetence and inability to save your people."

He was very clearly speaking English, yet his mouth did not seem to be moving in a way to form the words she was hearing.

"We forgave you long ago. Please, raise your head. How has your English progressed?"

The Captain slowly shook his head. "I am afraid that method of communication has proven exceedingly difficult for me to progress in. I must ask you to make use of simpler terminology."

A weak frown replaced Diana's smile borne of courtesy. "That will make it hard to talk."

"Indeed, the interpretation of any instructions or requests you may have will have to be done through either myself or the Scholar. Fortunately, it should not take long for us to be able to converse naturally."

A crease in Diana's brow formed. "Should I take that to mean that our method of communication is considered unnatural?"

Her slightly hostile question was meant with an confused look from the Captain. Clearly he had not meant any harm.

"A difference in understanding then." She brushed off the topic before it could evolve into a problem. "Where is Donovan?"

"I was recently in the ward helping to remove his clothing. Follow me."

The Captain helping in a medical procedure was weird to her, but Diana justified this oddity by inferring that meant that it was quicker for him to do it himself than tell someone else how to do it.

Allowing her host to walk in front of her, she turned back to look at the Noah, one of the few remaining artefacts that confirmed their people once existed, and marveled at just how dark it was. Their current environment was not lacking in light by any means, yet it almost seemed darker than the sky she remembered from the window of the shuttle.

Scratch that, it was darker than that pitch black canvas sparkling with the light of distant stars. She might not have been able to see them, but there were stars in that darkness that threatened to engulf everything, giving it a brightness she simply could not make out.

Her Grandfather had made it abundantly clear that none would reflect from the Noah's surface.

Eventually she turned back to the halted Captain and descended a flight of stairs leading into the Oberlux's bowels.

Luxurious was the best descriptor for the interior Diana was met with. She was confident that there might be a better grouping of syllables to perfectly encapsulate the furnishing's of the halls, but for the moment it escaped her. It wasn't gaudy, nor did it evoke feel over the top. Regal, but there were definite elements of flare that interrupted the noble feel, pieces of art that felt almost childlike in their coloring and contents.

This level of wealth was not a surprise, of course. Being a big part in the communication and relay effort, she had heard the Oberlux's appearance described both inside and out. While it was true that it was a ship primarily focused around combat, specifically subduing stars (a concept until just very recently she viewed as being metaphorical), it also served an extremely important diplomatic role.

This ship would be the first contact with extraterrestrial intelligence for the worlds it came across, and a show of wealth and power was an excellent way to give a good first impression.

Still, this level of material extravagance was far beyond what she could have dreamed of ever having.

For one, the abundance of wood. She understood that the Oberlux was made of a branch of a colossal tree, or at the very least something similar, so wood being a primary theme was not at all surprising. The issue was that on modern day Earth having wood furnishings was a sign of extreme wealth or connections.

Trees just took too long to grow, and there weren't enough of them to make a dresser for everyone.

The carpets were also made of some very vibrant, likely natural, fiber. They covered the wooden floors, which seemed like a waste to her, but their deep red hue and pale green trim complimented the color of the wood's grain.

What stood out the most was the shear quantity of extremely high quality artistic goods. Every few steps there was another display, to the point it felt like she was perusing one of the art museums of old. Paintings of landscapes that, to her, seemed quite fantastical. Sculptures of people and creatures that seemed to have lives of their own. Outfits of clothing and jewelry that perfectly complimented one another placed on display atop intricately designed mannequins in graceful positions.

This all just went on and on, to the point that it made her a little sick.

"Is the display not to your liking? I can have the features that are not to your fancy changed or removed from view. I understand that other cultures may have a different aesthetic appreciation than my own." The Captain was trying to accommodate her.

"No, it's fine. I have just never seen so much wealth in one hall. It just made me realize how out of place I am."

"Are you not one of he wealthier citizens of your people? Surely you must have visited some sort of gathering of culture at some point, yes?"

"I am afraid not." She shook her head and closed her eyes, trying not to remember the pitiful few number of times she was permitted to visit cultural caches. "Our society reached a point where we could not value the physical as much as you clearly do."

"So your culture is ascetic? Or are you referring to sensations and pleasures which cannot be touched or seen?"

"Neither really. I am not sure you will understand this problem, but what we had was limited. We could not afford wealth."

"You could not afford to be rich? Was this a problem spurned from the absence of Split?"

"Perhaps. I will be unable to tell you until I learn more about this 'Split' myself."

"Quite right. But in order to do that you must first meet with the Great Csillacra." The Captain stopped and held open a door for her. Evidently, they had arrived at their destination. "Have you yet felt the effects of Split decay?"

"I do not think so, but I will have to take a medicine for it still. I haven't yet forgotten your warnings."

"For that I thank you, it will make things much easier. Healer! I have brought the other one. How fare the patients?"

A woman returned his summons with a curse, one which Diana could not attach a word to, but one she recognized as an exclamation of discontent. "I have managed to stop the effects of Split decay in both of them, but there is poison in the boy's blood. I am unable to get it out without worsening his situation."

The source of the voice came stomping around the corner. She was agitated, but likely because she was tired rather than anything of substance.

"It is strange though. The extent to which the two have experienced the decomposition are drastically different. And you, young lady, you don't look like you have suffered from it at all!" She hustled up to her and pulled a small black bean from a pouch around her waist. "Eat this. It is bitter, and the aftertaste is simply horrendous, but it will grant you immunity for a period of time. Trust me, you would rather deal with a bitter bean than your body falling apart."

Obediently, and without a spoken word, Diana placed the legume in her mouth and chewed down on it. It was bitter, true, but no more so than a cup of black coffee or a bar of unsweetened chocolate. Unpleasant, sure, but not unbearably so.

If she had a bit of honey with her she felt that this might actually make quite the treat, though she did have some concerns about the aftertaste.

"Good, good. It is so nice to have a patient that listens when I give them instructions. I am the Healer." The woman with some stains from fluids of questionable origins gave a small bow. "I would like your opinion on their conditions. I know more than you about their condition in regards to the decay, but I have no idea what this poison is or how to get it out. Captain, I will need you to translate."

"That is why I am here."

"Good. Come this way." She dragged Diana by the arm to the pair of beds where Donovan, and a dog were laying down. "First question, do you know what that animal is?"

"That is a dog." The Captain was relaying Diana's words to the Healer. "They are our companion animals. They are not delicate, but be careful not to pull its legs around too much."

"Can you take care of it?" This was the Captain speaking independent of Diana

"I should be able to."

"Then I leave it to you. Now for the boy." She moved over to the bed that Donovan lay on. He was almost nude, the bare minimum of an armband, choker, and underwear remained attached to his body.

His body looked absolutely horrendous. Webs of black and purple sprawled all across his body, with portions of his skin seeming to peel off and letting out a small amount of blood and lymph. His breathing, weak, sounded wet. There were likely fluid buildup in his lungs.

The worst was a black splotch to the left of his face, just in front of his ear. It was swelling, evidence that he had hit his head fairly hard against something.

In spite of how dead he looked, he was undoubtedly alive.

In fact, if it weren't for the gravity of the situation and the rather grotesque state Donovan was in, Diana would be tempted to ogle her involuntary boyfriend-someday-husband's body.

That left the question of the poison the Healer claimed was circulating his body. Diana wasn't stupid. She also knew that Donovan wasn't stupid. It was impossible for ARC to be stupid. So how did 'poison' get into his system and when did it happen?

"If you don't mind my asking, when did you notice that there was a poison in his body?"

She waited for the Captain to relay her question.

"Immediately after he came out of the vessel. I looked at his blood and noticed there was something unnatural and not a result of split decay. Did he poison himself to try and fight it?"

So he wasn't poisoned after exiting the ship. "Is this poison in the dog?"

Another relay period.

"No, only him."

Then it wasn't something in the ship's internal environment. An injection? She pulled out her tablet and typed a question to ARC.

'What did you inject into Donovan's bloodstream, and how should I get it out?'

The response was immediate, and quite detailed. It was an injection log a few hours long with timestamps and records of what was injected. The methods of extraction were listed alongside each compound, but none of them had equipment that were on hand. A note at the bottom stated that it would take time for them to get out of his system naturally, around 50 hours at minimum according to a metabolic projection.

'Is there any way that these could have combined in a way that results in something toxic or poisonous? The doctor down here is showing concern about a potential poison.'

Another immediate response.

The substances themselves are toxic to the human body, the majority of them either dull pain receptors or stimulate motor function. There were some coagulants as well, but not many. In bulk they may prove life-threatening, but I was careful to not approach that amount.

'Isn't mixing stimulants and depressants dangerous?'

If not done carefully, yes. I hope you understand that there was no other choice in this matter, if I had not done so then it is exceedingly likely that Donovan would not have been able to fly to the Oberlux. Would you like an abbreviated list of injuries and potential medical concerns?

'Yes.'

A 'short' list appeared on the screen. Completely broken bones, a few further hairline fractures, a concussion, internal bleeding in more than a few areas, sparse unrelated bruising and inflammation were just the less complicated words she felt like reading. Apparently ARC thought this counted as an 'abbreviated' list, something that betrayed the real extent of the damage that had been dealt to him.

"It looks like he will be fine. He just needs rest. The poisons in his blood are medicines we made to kill pain and keep us awake."

She couldn't exactly use complex medical terminology.

"You can kill pain?"

"Kind of. Think of it like something to help numb the body. You can't feel pain if you can't feel anything."

The Healer stared in awe for a moment. "What would drive you to such lengths to deprive yourself of such a vital sense? Even if it was only temporary?"

"When someone is in pain, they find it hard to focus. He is very heavily injured, so I believe he did this to himself so that he would be more likely to survive. How long will it take for him to wake up?"

The Healer drooped her head a bit. "I've not a clue. He should make a recovery at some point, but I do not know how fast your kind heals. I am not comfortable making an estimate."

This put Diana in a tough spot. She could try to communicate and organize with the people onboard the ship, but communication was proving to be problematic. Any plans she made would also have to go through Donovan, who was not conscious at the moment. These early days and first impressions would be pivotal to how they were treated, and more importantly protected.

She and the people who were in charge of her training were not so naïve as to think that she would be able to make friends who could be trusted unconditionally. There was a large fear that they would be taken advantage of, so they needed to gain some degree of independence.

But they had no clue what the political and economic situation was, or even what level of technology they had!

The alternative was to wait with Donovan and nurse him back to health so that they could get a handle on the situation together, two minds were better than one.

"I will ask for someone to get a chair for you. Rest here with him. I realize you are likely very stressed at the moment, and that you will need time to get your thoughts in order. I will call the Scholar here. If you have any requests, feel free to ask him." With this, the Captain left Diana to her own devices.