The difference between a closed drydock and an open spacedock was massive.
The former offered a completely closed environment. Shipbuilding crews gained access to a lot of conveniences. The entire point of building a ship in an enclosed space was to exert as much control as possible.
A drydock also offered plenty of privacy, which was important for building or assembling strategically-important vessels.
The Ovenbird’s internal drydock was incredibly valuable to the Larkinson Clan. Being able to service starships at the start was already valuable enough, but that was not the extent of her capabilities. As long as she received some comprehensive upgrades to her drydock facilities, the Larkinson Clan gained the ability to build its own starships!
Unfortunately, the latter was only convenient when the Ovenbird was used to build a sub-capital ship. If the Larkinsons wanted to build a much larger capital ship, then the Larkinson Clan had no choice but to park the Ovenbird in a fixed position for many months until she completed her job.
This was not very practical! Ves wasn’t sure if his expeditionary fleet would stay for an extended amount of time in any star system, but he wasn’t really a fan of that. At this moment, Ves and many Larkinsons were already sick and tired of staying any further in the Cinach System.
Still, this was just a possible upgrade option. Vivian had already detailed how difficult it was to transform the Ovenbird to this extent. Ves and the Larkinson Clan did not need to consider this aspect in the short term.
Ves calmed himself down. He patted Bygul’s head before dismissing the electronic cat.
“Let’s return to the starting point. How much does it cost to procure the Diligent Ovenbird?”
The chief ship designer paused for a moment. “The starting configuration of the Diligent Ovenbird is relatively affordable as far as ships like these are concerned. We will probably have to spend at least 1.7 trillion hex credits to procure this fleet repair ship. There is not much point to implementing upgrades straight away as they are not readily available in this part of space. Wait until we reach the Red Ocean. The tech level there is significantly better due to all of the pioneers arriving from the more developed parts of human space.”
“It’s not going to be cheap.”
“That’s true.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised that we would have to invest over 10 trillion hex credits in order to turn the Ovenbird into a vessel that is capable of building a capital ship!”
That was an excessively high sum, yet Ves knew that this was only the most basic condition!
There was no reason for Ves to consider something so extravagant in the early stages of his expedition. For now, Ves wanted to assemble his core of capital ships as soon as possible so that he filled the rest of his quota. He did not want to waste any of his ship slots.
Ves and Vivian discussed some other aspects about the Diligent Ovenbird. There were many distinct quirks and nuances to this ship concept.
For example, the Diligent Ovenbird may not be capable of withstanding a lot of hits, but as long as she was buttoned down, her ability to resist damage was almost as good as a typical combat carrier. It was only when Ves compared her to other capital ships that her defensive capabilities looked inadequate.
“If we have the Gorgoneion, we can place the Ovenbird behind the wall. That will ensure that our most essential vessel will not sustain crippling damage during a battle.” The shipwright noted.
“That works, but the Ovenbird will not be the only non-combat capital ship that we will add to our fleet. In a couple of years, I hope to obtain seven capital ships in total. We can’t hide all of them behind the Gorgoneion unless the enemy is stupid enough to attack from one direction.”
The Gorgoneion was only effective if the enemy attacked from the front. If the attackers were smart enough to split up their offensive elements and order them to circle around, then it would become very difficult for the expeditionary fleet to block attacks coming from opposite directions.
Vivian did not look discouraged. “We’ll just have to rely on other vessels to cover this shortcoming. We’ll have plenty of combat carriers to form additional barriers. We can even acquire an additional fleet carrier or employ other capital ships with solid defenses.”
She was right. While a single defense-orient fleet carrier was able to provide a lot of defensive help, a single ship was still a single ship. The Larkinson Clan needed to form a balanced and diverse roster of starships in order to cover as many aspects as possible.
After they completed their discussion, Ves was ready to leave.
“I’m very satisfied with your work this far.” Ves complimented her. “I don’t regret hiring you. While your ship design concepts have certain shortcomings, they are all viable and practical.”
Vivian beamed. “I have been developing these ideas for years. I have many more ship concepts in my head, but our clan doesn’t require them at the moment. I couldn’t have progressed the Gorgoneion and the Diligent Ovenbird concepts so quickly without the help of my team, though. The staff I’ve put together will play a vital role in fleshing out the ship designs.”
Ship design teams did not suffer from the same constraints as mech design teams.
Scientists, researchers and engineers from other disciplines were only able to play a marginal role in the development of a mech design. The real work had to be done by those who excelled at this work, which was other mech designers.
The process of designing a mech was also very different. The smaller size and limited amount of parts that made up a mech made it much easier for smaller teams to design them in a reasonable amount of time.
In contrast, ship designs were so huge and complex that not even Vivian dared to design one from the ground up by relying on her own capabilities.
Starships possessed so many more parts and systems that she had to rely on a lot of knowledgeable specialists to flesh out specific portions of a starship.
Fortunately, the process of ship design did not evolve any esoteric powers. To humanity, a starship was simply a very big puzzle that people could easily put together as long as they knew how the puzzle pieces worked.
Ves briefly wondered whether it was possible to design a ship in a similar fashion to designing a mech.
Perhaps only Star Designers were capable of doing so. That was too far away to Ves, though strictly speaking he was already capable of imparting spirituality to the other products he made.
There had to be more to Star Designers than Ves could currently guess. They weren’t considered as one of the most impressive figures in human civilization if this was the extent of their capabilities!
Once Ves bid goodbye to the Naval Design Department, he strolled through the expansive hallways of the Spirit of Bentheim.
He wasn’t in a hurry to return to the main design lab.
As he walked from deck to deck, he walked past many crew members who were preoccupied with their own tasks. Preparing the Spirit of Bentheim for her long journey to the Red Ocean was not something that could be done in a couple of days.
Ves made his way to the 12th deck, which was largely configured as a city within a ship. As he stepped onto the streets, he briefly looked up his head. The ceiling wasn’t visible anymore. Instead, it simulated the appearance of an open sky.
Supposedly, the sky the 12th deck simulated was supposed to be a very accurate replica of the sky above Dorum, the former capital city of Bentheim.
At night, the sky even provided an augmented view of the stars and constellations from the once-prosperous planet.
Bentheim at night never displayed so many stars. There was way too much light pollution to make the dimmer stars visible.
It was daytime right now. Larkinsons had already begun to set up the shops, restaurants and other services. The city deck was already starting to come alive. In fact, the people around him were already starting to call the city ‘Dorum’!
Ves wasn’t sure whether that was the best choice. Dorum was a lot busier, denser and more congested that this false version. He would have chosen to call it Ansel instead, but it didn’t really matter to him. If his clansmen insisted on naming this deck after the capital city of Bentheim, then that was their choice.
As Ves strolled through the avenues, receiving plenty of greetings and odd stares from the Larkinsons around him, he briefly paused as he stopped before the campus of a school that had just ended its classes.
“Hihihihi!”
“I’m free now!”
“Mommy. I want to go home!”
Hundreds of pre-teens poured out of the gates of the school. They either met their parents, walked ‘home’ by themselves or hung out with their friends.
Each of them were Larkinsons. Each of them were connected to the Larkinson Network.
Ves knew that his recruiters did not deliberately recruit them into the clan. The kids came after the recruiters reeled in their parents.
Despite this, Ves considered each and every juvenile Larkinson to be an asset. As the patriarch of the clan, he had to think about the long-term development of his clan.
Many of his thoughts stretched across decades or generations. Some of them wouldn’t even come to fruition until at least a century later!
No matter what, he made sure that he did not neglect the offspring of his clansmen. As the future backbone and heroes of his clan, Ves wanted to make sure they were taken care of. The Larkinsons not only had to raise the younger generations, but also shape their perspectives so that they grew up into loyal clansmen who embodied the culture and traditions of the clan!
“What are you doing here, Ves?”
He turned around to see Venerable Jannzi of all people coming around the corner of a nearby street! As she approached, her vigilant and protective force of will swept over Ves, his bodyguards and everyone else in the vicinity.
“I’m just touring my own ship. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No. I’m just afraid you are harboring nefarious thoughts towards those cute kids. You aren’t thinking about turning them into your soldiers, are you?”
Ves huffed. “So what if I do? Our clan cannot exist if we don’t replace the soldiers who are protecting us in the present. We need mech pilots, infantry soldiers, starship crew members, mech technicians and more in order to ensure our clan remains strong in the future.”
Though Jannzi disliked his attitude, he couldn’t argue with her words.
The two awkwardly walked past the school and stiffly spoke with each other.
“We may have our disagreements, but we both want our clan to succeed. I’m trying my best to elevate our strength and prepare us for the challenges we will face in the Red Ocean. Why must you oppose my initiatives so much?”
Venerable Jannzi scowled. “I’m not opposed to your goal, but I don’t agree with your methods. You are pushing our clansmen way too hard. The Nyxian Gap Campaign is already an indication of how far you are willing to go in order to gain power. You’re far too greedy and selfish to be a responsible patriarch. Any other Larkinson would do a better job in your position.”
“I doubt that.” Ves smirked. “You’ll probably want me back if Vincent Ricklin or Gloriana ever manages to succeed my position.”
“Don’t joke around. You know what I mean. You may have founded the clan and set it up for success, but your extreme agenda is simply too reckless. I don’t know why the Larkinson Assembly tolerates you after all of the Larkinsons you have driven to their deaths.”
Her criticism started to grate on Ves. “Well, it’s a good thing that you have no say in the matter. No matter what you think, the rest of the clan thinks better of me. They are realists who fully recognize that we cannot afford to be weak in order to maintain our independence.”
“They’re wrong!”
“Just because they have different opinions doesn’t necessarily mean they are wrong. Look, I’m not your enemy, Jannzi. We can still work together. As you have just stated earlier, both of us want to achieve the same goal. Can you just put down your grievances and be more cooperative? I’m sure Qilanxo doesn’t want to see us at odds.”
That made her angry! “Do not bring her into this conversation!”
