Dead Star Dockyards

The deck proved to be a vast expanse, far larger than Don could hope to completely explore in his weakened state, but it looked to be mostly featureless. He could console himself with the fact he likely wasn't missing much.

"I thought there would be something more exciting out here."

It really was barren. Without the pretty lights outside the canopy, it hosted a bland color palette. There weren't even the stars to gaze up at.

"At least Mercedes seems happy." Diana tried looking on the bright side, not that there was a dark side to this moon. This was a hellishly silver lined paradise.

Here they were perfectly safe from danger, and perfectly bored. Conversations can entertain, but they can only last for so long without topics to talk about. They had run out of all but the embarrassing, touchy, and otherwise diplomatically verboten subjects almost the instant they left the Noah.

They were fairly certain that no one besides the Captain and Scholar could understand them, but who was to say that a crew member they weren't aware of would remember the sounds and repeat it to those who could? It wasn't out of the question.

"Sooooo, do you like dogs?" Don was at least trying.

"Very much so. I always wanted to have a golden retriever puppy that I could train as I pleased, but I don't think that's much of an option any more."

"You won't be helping me with Mercedes?"

"I will, but I think we'll need to emphasize some more 'diplomatic' tendencies rather than reinforcing silly commands like 'spin' and 'play dead'. I don't want to imagine a scenario where she ruins some heirloom fabric or furniture because we focused on a silly little trick."

Don had never considered those as options. "Why would you do something like that in the first place?"

"Teach dogs how to do tricks? Because its fun. We get a laugh at them doing a silly little dance and they get enthusiasm and treats. Plus, its super duper cute." She really loved dogs. "What were your plans for her?"

"What was in the training booklet mostly. I also thought about teaching her how to attack, but I have no idea how to even start with that."

"You want to make her into an attack dog?"

"More like a defense dog. Like, say, if uh, uuuuuh, like if I got into a fight in the cafeteria of a carrier! I flew alone, so having another man in the fight so to speak would be a big help."

Diana felt shocked. Was that really something that happened in the navy? "Don, you know that their bites can kill people if they get a hold of the neck right?"

"Cant they now." A surge of blood to Don's head. "I wasn't aware of that."

"Did-didn't you ever get a look at her teeth? Doesn't she gnaw at or nibble you sometimes?"

"A little when its time for food, but it never broke skin."

"Of course not! That was play biting, if she ever decided to bite down for real you might lose a finger!"

Don snuck a look at the panting puppy. On closer inspection, her teeth looked a little pointy...

"Let's put aside her combat training for now Don, hopefully forever, and focus her attention more towards not being a menace. She absolutely has to be trained to know when to go to the bathroom, do you have any commands for that?"

"Not at the moment."

"Then we'll focus on that first." The gravity of where they were very suddenly dawned on Diana when she looked at Mercedes' posture. "Oh god."

"What is it?"

"She's peeing on the deck..."

- - - - - 

Diana was in bow so deep her forehead was practically on the floor.

"I am so so so so so sorry!"

In front of her was a bemused Captain accompanied by an intrigued Scholar, as well as a crew member equipped with what looked to be a mop and bucket. Those were utensils that did not come standard with rest of the Noah.

"Its fine Diana, this isn't much of an issue compared to some of the other objects that find their way onto the deck. Isn't that right deckhand?" The Captain directed this last part to the man with the mop.

"I consider myself blessed it only required a few sweeps with a mop. The last time a rock hit the deck I was polishing the spot for hours."

"Don't take it too harshly, we understand that it is in an animal's instinct to release themselves when most opportune. Do you think this is the only time an incident like this has occurred?" The Captain tried to make it sound like they had expected a situation like this to manifest itself, which was true, but he wanted to do it in a way that would minimize stress.

"That doesn't make it excusable! We should have made sure she properly relieved herself aboard the Noah." Diana was adamant in apologizing, perhaps going too far with it. Donovan was off to the side keeping the furball restrained and not making a fuss.

"Diana, I feel you should know that there is no carpet on the deck because this is the place where something like this is supposed to happen." The Scholar chimed in with his more reasoned approach. "When new civilizations are contacted, a show of some of their more exotic fauna is often stored on the deck. We expect them to defecate and even bleed on the platform. I would go so far as to say that it is the deck's purpose to act as an earthen region in the absence of an actual landscape."

"Then we should have asked permission!"

"DIANA!" Donovan shouted at her. "They said it was fine."

"Yes bu-"

"Did they reprimand you?"

"No..."

"Then I don't see the issue. I'm more of a soldier than a bureaucrat, but I imagine they get sick of constant and incessant apologies just as much as I do. Calm down." Don had taken note of Diana's tense demeanor in the short time he had been with her, and it seemed to be making her extra jittery when they did something wrong.

"... Thank you." She took a deep breath, turning to face their stunned hosts. "We apologize for the mess. We will try not to make the same mistake in the future." She made a slight curtsy.

"Once again, we have no issue with it." The Captain was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Should you happen to be free, would you care to join me in the meal hall? I would like to discuss some matters with the both of you"

- - - - -

Don was instantly enamored with the food on board the Oberlux. Looks aside, it actually tasted like something! It was taking everything in his power to savor it and not just scarf it down due to his hunger.

Don was also certain that would draw Diana's ire.

"What is it you wanted to talk about?" Diana wasn't feeling hungry, the embarrassment from earlier had quashed her appetite.

"The Scholar and a few of my more senior crew were discussing what could be done to assist you in the few weeks we will have with you, and we would like to know what it is you feel you need to know how to do."

"What are our options? I take it this isn't anything scholarly?"

"It isn't." The Scholar put down his fork. "We were thinking more along the lines of hobbies and what would otherwise be considered common knowledge. There are some activities nobles are expected to know how to do or actively take part in."

"Nobles?"

"The nobility, those of 'high birth' or those who rose to power in their nation or amongst their race."

"But we aren't nobility?" Don was confused. Were they still in the feudal era of governance?

"You may not consider yourself amongst this 'nobillidy', but you should refer to yourself as such going forward. Social class means more than everything to those belonging to the higher classes." The Captain explained the situation to them. "Don't worry about being considered a liar either, you are legally considered nobles now. As the last of your kind you are also the de facto rulers of your kind, King and Queen respectively."

"Really? Even without a Kingdom?"

"If you are referencing a domain in which you exercise authority, then yes. Even in the absence of subjects to govern you will be considered royalty. I can guarantee that the Great Csillacra will recognize you as such."

"And because we are to be royalty, we need to know how to act like royalty." Diana was quick on the uptake. "In that case, we have no idea what we should be focusing our attention on. We no longer have such conventions."

"Is there nothing you happen to take an interest in?"

"We would prefer if we got what we needed to know first." Diana took charge in these matters.

"I second that. I wouldn't have a fucking clue where to start." Donovan followed suit, his vulgar use of language earning him a pinch from Diana.

The Captain gave a quick nod of recognition. "In that case, let's start with table etiquette. Eat as you would normally and I will correct anything that seems especially egregious. To start with Donovan, keep your back upright while eating and cut your food into smaller pieces."

Don swallowed. "Why?"

"Appearances mostly, though eating your food in smaller pieces is generally seen as a sign of sophistication. It will help with the perception of you taking your time to enjoy a refined meal."

"That's stupid." He forked another chunk of meat into his mouth.

"Just do it Don. The last thing we want is a reputation as barbarians."

"Phyne." There was still food in his mouth.

"Don't speak when there is food in your mouth. Intent may come across perfectly fine, but it is still seen as rude." The Captain wasn't even eating anymore, just watching them and primarily correcting Donovan's form.

This would continue for some time, Donovan of course being the subject of scrutiny, though Diana had a few faults as well. Conversation more or less halted until they finished their food.

"What should we do with our utensils when we finish?"

"Place them parallel to each other facing forwards on the center of your plate. You can safely assume that someone will come to remove it for you. Don't try to give the plate to them. Seeing as we don't have that kind of staff, we will take them to the kitchen to be cleaned."

"So many rules..." Donovan could handle regulations in the navy, many being for the purpose of preventing unnecessary damage, work, or loss of life, but these little rules didn't seem to have a purpose beyond the aesthetic.

"You are going to have to get used to it, and the sooner the better. Going forward, I would like you to eat in the presence of someone who can correct your table manners Don." Diana was a tad shocked at just how sloppy Don was at the dining hall. She understood he had probably been forced to eat quickly in the past, but this was something else. "Would that be something you could arrange Captain?"

"Certainly. If we are finished with dinner then I believe we should get started with training you. Diana, you will accompany the Scholar. Donovan, come with me. We will meet again at dinner."

- - - - - - - - - -

"So what are we going to do?" Don and the Captain were walking down one of the many curved hallways that made up the interior of the ship.

"We are going to get something. I have a question for you."

"Go ahead."

"How much experience do you have with person to person combat?"

That was out of the blue. "Enough to keep me alive, but not much."

"That is as good as I could have hoped, I suppose. What weapon did you find yourself most proficient with?"

"Weapon? Beyond the few rifles and pistols I learned to shoot, I only know hand to hand."

"Are those ranged weapons?"

"Yes?" Donovan was lost in the line of questioning. "Should they not be?"

"As someone who has seen a bit of combat, I can not express distaste for them. Range is a very useful tool in a fight. Unfortunately most of those high class people's we spoke of before consider attacking from range to be 'cowardly' and 'disgraceful'. Similarly, they view the act of fighting without a weapon to be uncivilized. They see being prepared to fight without a weapon as a sign that one admits they are not good with their weapon as they allow themselves to lose it, and just as generally not very refined."

"What are you getting at Cap?"

"You will need to be able to demonstrate a base level of proficiency with at least some form of weapon. This isn't just something you will need to do to cater to high society mind you, but a necessity for success in the academy-"

"But I don't know how to use a melee weapon, much less own one!"

"-which is why I intend to teach you." The Captain finished his sentence amid Don's interjection. "While I am unable to claim to be a master of war, I am at the very least halfway decent with most basic weapons. Furthermore, I consider practice with them to be a hobby, so I have quite a few of some variety. Today I plan to help you find the type of weapon you are most compatible with, as well as help you learn the basic movements and teach you how not to kill yourself with it."