Dead Star Dockyards

Sol remained silent for a moment, contemplating the name she had been given. She knew the meaning behind it, the synergism of minds revealed such trivialities as memories and the vague amalgamation of information called 'knowledge', but in reading and attempting to understand them she took note of an exceptional oddity in his conscious, something she knew was not the norm.

I find your naming sense odd.

His mind was full of schisms and barriers that shouldn't be there, portions of his being sectioned off from others. If her mother was to be believed, and there was no reason for her mother to lie, the presence of one or two schisms was to be expected. The lives of humans were varied and complex, interactions with others being shaped just as much by their image in the eyes of others as their own ambitions and desires, so some degree of separation between their private and public personalities was to be expected. Further still, some people sat at a crossroads as to what (or who) they were supposed to be, or even possessed a schism in persona, to the point these manifested in their interactions with others.

This was not what Donovan suffered from, and Sol fully believed him to be suffering.

"Do you not like it?"

It was an observation I felt you should be informed of, nothing more.

Sol could not tell which of these fractured personalities was the 'real' Donovan, if he was even attached to one in the first place. Even during their limited interactions she noticed an odd tendency in how he interacted with these segments. Most would stick to a single personality in an interaction with others, perhaps switching to another one in response to a change in situation or relationship, but not Donovan.

To an entity like Sol, best described as an 'observer', his mental behavior was fascinating. These fractured segments of his person were, upon further observation, closer to the purest and most distilled form of a type of person. He tapped into these personalities as needed, drawing upon the most efficient method of acting for a given situation in order to complete a task or navigate a situation. It was an incredibly task oriented and efficient method of getting things done, however it was also quite problematic. These personalities were great on their own, the 'perfect' form of a person required to perform a given task, but they were not 'Donovan'.

In fact, Sol could not find a personality in that mess which could be called 'Donovan', nothing indicative of what might be his true self. Worse still, she could not find anything suggesting the formation of a self. He possessed none of the markers associated with a completely developed person, no ambition, no passion, no preferences, no vices, no hobbies, no conceptions of what he should be, only a slew of regrets about past failings and a list of positive and negative associations.

The current 'Donovan' was defined by a mission - the continuation of the Terran race - and had likely been defined by similar missions prior to this one. His actions served the end goal of this mission, doing exactly what the personalities he developed judged necessary. There was no consideration towards himself beyond what was necessary to ensure his proper function, and no consideration towards his relationships with others beyond what would make the completion of his objectives more assured and open up avenues of approach for later problems. Even his relationship with Diana, which was the most important and special 'thing' he had, contained within it a great deal of behavioral optimization, though it wasn't entirely the task focused approach she saw with everything else in his life.

This in mind, his relationship was unique for Donovan. It wasn't yet clear to Sol why this was the case, but Diana was the only subject in his psyche not completely subject to the broader segmented framework he operated in. With her, he didn't need to uphold some standard of perfection, at least not all the time.

Are you tired?

She asked this seeking to understand him better, learning how he viewed himself. Even if she could read his mind, it was only memories and knowledge - static information. Sol did not possess the capacity to read anything dynamic, such as thoughts and the process through which they formed. Perhaps a bit of probing would reveal a solution to the puzzle before her.

"I'm not allowed to be."

A preposterous statement.

"But it answered your question."

Sol felt uncomfortable with that response. By the barest of technicalities it answered her question, but it only did so through an implication which felt very threatening to her, that he could read her just as she could read him. If she was to lean further into it, she almost felt Donovan was slightly better at it than she was. Regardless, her question was answered, and she had gathered information pertaining to his thought process at the same time.

Just as she expected, Donovan was beholden to the 'mission' he was assigned, and had responded in a manner fitting of someone 'perfect' for the job. He did not lie, but he did not directly admit that he was, in fact, tired. Months of working near one's limit would be enough to wear anyone down, more so when one considered how far into the future this level of effort would have to be maintained. And yet in spite of this, Donovan was not 'allowed' to be tired. He was the primary decisionmaker in their planning process and the rock upon which Diana found some degree of stability, not to mention the prospective leader of a budding nation. To be seen as tired could be devastating for Diana's physical and mental state and have consequences on his reputation in the capacity of leader.

He was tired, running himself ragged to get just a little bit more done, but he could not admit as much to anybody, not even in private.

There was something else hidden there, but Sol didn't know what. In all honesty, it could only pick up on a hint of dissatisfaction with himself. She did not know what this dissatisfaction referred to specifically, it could be his performance or lack of knowledge more generally, however Sol wanted to believe it was something different, something a bit more . . . consequential.

Donovan's success was her mother's dream, though neither of them had determined if Donovan would want to be the kind of success she dreamed about. Both would be perfectly content with his happiness even if he didn't turn out the way her mother wanted him to. That didn't mean she would sit on the sidelines, Sol would do her utmost to keep him on track towards this goal at her mother's request, but some degree of leniency and a benchmark for concluding him to have failed in this endeavor would be necessary.

The absence of what makes one 'human' would be part of that benchmark, so if Donovan did not possess the mind necessary to be considered one then he would fail on principle.

He lacked substantive motivation, his only clearly defined motive being the expectation of what he should be doing. He lacked any personal ambition, all of his 'goals' were simply means to an end, one not of his own design. He also lacked hobbies and vices, little things he did in his off time to entertain himself.

There were memories about such things as reading books or using simulators, however all of those were attempts at improving the characteristics necessary to complete a mission. Nothing pertaining solely to his own entertainment and joy surfaced whenever she scanned these memories . . . besides nighttime activities with Diana. Sol did not necessarily subscribe to human standards of shame and decency, however she knew Donovan did (following those standards was part of this 'perfect' persona) which made the idea she had somewhat risky.

There was something inside of Donovan that Sol could not see. She did not know what it was, but she needed to figure it out. There was a chance it was related to what she wanted of Donovan, and she would need to nurture and protect it. Unfortunately she only knew of one subject that roused this something, and this subject would not be visiting Sol any time soon either. If she wanted an answer in a timely manner, she would need to put the limited trust he had in her at risk.

. . . ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novᴇlfire.net

Setting aside her concerns regarding a personal relationship with him on the grounds that such a relationship was secondary, she focused on creating a 'body' for herself in this mindscape, one modeled after Diana. She was careful to avoid making it a perfect recreation, introducing minor flaws in places Donovan would not be able to immediately nail down such as her clothes and hair, and settled on an 'older' version of Diana, the image she had before Sol's mother performed that operation on her. The effective change was minimal, blue eyes instead of light gray and a lack of marks beneath her eyes, but it should be enough to make it clear this body was not the real Diana.

"You can speak freely with me." Sol apparated her body on the ground next to Donovan such that they could speak face to face when their head were turned. "Nobody else will know, they cannot even communicate with me."

The turn of his head was slow, and brought with it an impending sense of doom for Sol. Nothing physical changed about Donovan's disposition or demeanor, but she could detect a rush of activity in his mind. None of this activity was positive, his mind instead querying the combat oriented personalities, a clear indication this body of hers was in clear and present danger.

The moment he made eye contact with her, he was up and moving. In spite of his extreme fatigue he somehow managed to move at a speed much greater than she would have expected, summoning strength she did not believe to be possible. He did not strike her, the reasons for which not entirely clear, instead opting to slam a knee into her stomach as he whirled into position before crushing her trachea with his hands. It was a strangulation measure, depriving the opponent of oxygen in an expedited fashion by forcing them to exhale then making it impossible to draw more air in. The only problem was the lack of effectiveness in an environment where breathing was not necessary.

She had drawn his unconscious being into a mental realm, and this was not her body. No damage would come of this, so she did not offer resistance. The pain, while uncomfortable, was not entirely unwelcome either. It served as a reminder of the sinfulness of her actions.

"-"

Her attempt at speech failed. Sol had forgotten that while breathing was not necessary here, 'speaking' still required the use of her mouth and throat, both of which were heavily restrained. If she wished to communicate she would need to project it with her mind. Staring into Donovan's eyes, she decided against such a course of action.

Sol did not want to rock the boat more than she already had, and trying to communicate with him during this fit would likely sour his mood further. It would be better to wait out this rage of his until he figured out what was happening. He would have to realize at some point that this body was not real and that choking her out would not do anything, and in that time she would be able to observe and think.

This violence was not expected of him. It was not associated with his mission, nor was it reasonable for him to choke his beloved like this. It was a nigh instinctual reaction, one Sol suspected to be spurred by what she was looking for - the real Donovan.

- - - - -

Donovan did not know why he was doing this.

Well, he knew he was choking out this affront to his sensibilities on account of how it disturbed him, but he didn't know why it disturbed him. He was aware this puppet was not Diana. He was aware it had no bearing on Diana's status or relationship with him. He was even aware that doing this was likely to harm his relationship with Sol. However he didn't know why he acted so rapidly or why he continued to choke Sol out despite his judgement informing him of the pointlessness of his actions.

But as he stared into the slowly blinking eyes of an unnaturally detached Diana, he felt a renewed strength in his otherwise numb palms, hatred consuming him all the while. He did not hate Sol. He did not hated Diana. He did not even hate the flawed body in which Sol had decided to create for herself. Yet he hated whatever it was beneath him, and he didn't know why.

It was like a switch had been flipped inside of him, a switch activating a visceral desire to destroy, and he could do nothing about it. No amount of logic or reasoning was softening his grip.

"Why?"

The word left his lips before the thought behind it fully formed. He had intended for there to be more to the question, to ask her why she took that form, but it did not follow.

"Why?"

Nor did his intended formulation appear the next time he asked.

"Why?"

Or the next.

"Why?"

Or the next . . .

- - - - -

Sol looked back up into Donovan's eyes with sympathetic indifference as he chanted a question she could not answer, not because she could not understand the question or how to answer it, but because the question was not directed at her. It wasn't directed at Diana either. Despite that, Sol thought she figured at least part of this outburst out. What she was seeing, what she was experiencing, was the 'real' Donovan she was looking for, though she could not find any trace of him in his memories.

This was because this Donovan, the 'real' Donovan, did not exist in those memories. This wasn't because he had somehow hidden or forgotten those memories, but because memories involving him had never been formed to begin with. She didn't know why, but Donovan had decided to hide himself long before he had lived long enough to fully form this personality, or maybe this assumption was incorrect on it's face.

Maybe it wasn't Donovan who had decided to hide himself, but someone else. Someone who occupied a great many of Donovan's older memories, someone who specialized in the manipulation of the mind.

She supposed it was fairly obvious once the pieces of the puzzle were on the table before her, but Draco Helmsguard had clearly done something to make Donovan 'perfect' for the mission at hand - something he very blatantly admitted in a letter Donovan later found. The result of this was the suppression of the real Donovan, an attempt to kill it, and yet . . . it didn't feel like Draco had followed through with that attempt. Perhaps it was because of his moral compass, or because he simply ran out of time, but he left behind a shadow in the personality he programmed and Donovan was suffering for it.

A wet sensation on her cheeks brought her attention back to the person atop her, tears gently flowing from wide open eyes down an expressionless face, and realized why he had responded to this form with such violence.

He could not hurt the actual Diana, the one person he loved and felt some degree of connection with, but she represented the culmination of promises made to him that could never be fulfilled. This form in particular, the one closest in time to when he understood the life he had been promised would never come about, was deeply connected with this betrayal. Some part of him probably felt that maybe, just maybe, his torment would end if he killed this Diana, his real self dying alongside it.

All Sol could do was put her hands on his face and wipe the tears away.