Donovan was greeted with the usual sensations as he snapped awake - a soft mattress, comfortable sheets, and a warm body in his embrace that smelled divine. Of course, alongside this warm body came a face full of her hair, but Donovan could overlook the minor inconvenience. The feeling her presence gave him was just that powerful.
It was such a shame that he always had to get up, way before she had to at that. He didn't have to be an empath to understand that Diana also wanted to wake up alongside him, but he had work to do, and she needed a proper amount of sleep if she was going to remain healthy. Donovan was acutely aware of the fact that while he might be important to their plans, overseeing the growth of their industry and managing their military, everything would be for nothing if something happened to her.
Diana was able to bear children, an ability Donovan didn't have. Donovan was of the mind that she didn't really need to be able to do anything else, just existing was enough of a contribution for her, even if her health needed to be preserved. As a result of this, Donovan had steeled himself to take on as much of the burden as possible while Diana maintained a lifestyle that would guarantee nothing would harm her. He had been pleased to find that the academy had a more relaxed environment, hopefully she would not become as stressed as a result.
Ultimately, despite his utility, Donovan felt himself to be disposable. Arc had already collected a few semen samples, so it was entirely possible for Diana to 'complete' the primary objective without him now. That didn't mean he was okay with dying though, he would much rather live, but he was willing to trade his life for Diana's if it came down to it. Hopefully he would be able to take whatever threatened her along with him.
". . . tournament today, huh?"
Donovan had woken up at his 'usual' time, half an hour before the alarm to start prepping for training would go off. He enjoyed just laying here alongside his lover, his wife to be, thinking about the future. Not a 'how to proceed about rebuilding' future, but their romantic future. He didn't have much exposure to the whole romance genre, and he didn't recall his parents (foster) to ever express any genuine love for each other, so he was completely inexperienced. He instead focused on how to make her happy, not as a part of their mission but as a person.
". . . a date sounds nice."
His fantasies were simple, but that was all he really desired, simplicity. Far too much of his life had been dominated by the complicated, despite how simple it seemed, and the future only promised more complications. Politics would be problematic for him, the extent of his goals when thinking about the diplomatic fallout mostly having to do with battle damage and risks to the security of the state, but things were going to change with the reintroduction of foreign parties who might actually be both willing to negotiate and cared about the outcome.
". . . will she like flowers? Would I even be able to find flowers?"
Ah, there was an economy to worry about too, wasn't there? Interplanetary trade was a thing back home, but it was limited, and therefore not impacted nearly as much by the bidecadal war. Considering the scale they were going to be working at in comparison to others and the fact that interstellar trade already existed, going to war too often might have some adverse effects on their export market.
". . . I should ask Kilm and Manama about this."
With that in mind he should probably make sure that the transports used to escort the Nekh off their planet could be easily repurposed to carry goods. Maybe some form of modular room that is easily detached from the hull? No, it might be better to not even have rooms at all. If the goal is to transport as many people as possible then it might be a better idea to not even have rooms, just rows of seats that could be reclined a bit for better sleep. It might get dirty, and there might be complaints, but it might be the difference needed to save that many more people. It would make the long periods of acceleration more bearable as well.
"Those two seem like they have the whole romance thing covered."
There was also the issue of their control over the Nekh. Admittedly this was Diana's field, but Donovan felt the need to come up with ideas. Donovan felt there to be a good chance that there would not be any resistance to their rulership, they were facilitating the survival of their race, but how long that would continue was a different matter entirely. Violent oppression was off the table, it just didn't work for extended periods of time, so they had to be a bit more clever.
". . . maybe Titanyana can tell me what Diana wants, they seem to have gotten close."
Titanyana was a tool they had at their disposal, as much as he didn't like calling her a tool. Perhaps asset would be a better way to describe her? Regardless, she was a powerful piece in the domestic control game. He didn't know much about monarchies or how the Nekh governed their nation, but having Titanyana, one of their own, act as the ambassador through which they accepted reform would be an excellent way to do it.
Donovan rubbed Diana's stomach with his hand, marveling at the smoothness of her skin.
He wondered what she had thought up. Propaganda was always an option at their disposal, but they would have to learn how to read before it really showed its true potential. Reading, of course, was another headache entirely. If they wanted their new subjects to work the way Donovan and Diana needed to, then they needed to be able to read, write and speak English. Two people simply could not teach everyone how to do everything, and communication with Arc, someone who absolutely could manage that task, was facilitated through the use of English.
"I love you. . ."
At the moment, there were only five people who spoke English, Donovan, Diana, the Arboreal Maiden, the Scholar, and the Captain (to an extent), Arc being excluded on account of its inability to communicate with split, and therefore being incredibly unlikely to make progress when teaching. There were another six 'in training', Sanna, Wall, Len, Titanyana, Rize, and the Librarian, but whether or not they would actually come to any degree of competence during Donovan and Diana's stay here was debatable.
". . . so much."
Assuming that they got each and every one of the six people learning to a level where they could teach others, they would only have eleven English speakers, four of which would likely be able to speak at a 'native' level. Of these eleven people, Donovan could only reasonably see five of them being available teach the Nekh, Donovan, Diana, Titanyana, Rize, and the Scholar. The other three individuals under Terran tutelage, Len, Wall, and Sanna, were nobles in their own right and would no doubt have to return to their territories to take care of their business, while the Arboreal Maiden, the Librarian, and the Captain were all but tied to their duties in the Sanctum.
Don took a deep breath, savoring the smell of Diana's hair.
The worst part, in Donovan's opinion at least, was the fact that Rize and the Scholar couldn't even be guaranteed sources of tutelage. Hell, he couldn't even guarantee he would be available to teach anyone, Diana too for that matter. There was just too much to do, and unfortunately the training of a military that could be used to defend their new planet took precedence over teaching that military how to read.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
As he exhaled, he hugged Diana ever so slightly more tightly. . .
So much to do, and nothing with which to do it, that was the problem Don found himself running into at every junction. He needed a ship, but did not yet have a shipyard with which to build one. He needed an army, but had no people with which to train one. He needed people that could read, but had no professors who could teach them. He needed a plan, a solid plan, but he still didn't have the information which he needed to make one actionable.
. . . but held himself from doing anything that might wake her.
Donovan did not consider himself to be religious, especially not after the information revealed to them about divinity by the Arboreal Maiden, but he found himself praying that everything would resolve itself in time. Surely these issues would daisy-chain themselves away. He might not have a ship now, but once Arc finished the Pegasus they could start pumping out cheap but workable transports. Those transports might supply him with people who could fight and protect the rest from threats, and people who might prove useful in teaching the rest. Once they were safe, once their immediate concerns and threats were addressed, maybe they could finally, finally, go about returning the Terran race to splendor.
He loved Diana, perhaps a bit too much, perhaps for the wrong reasons. Reasons that, maybe, weren't good for a normal relationship, but their relationship wasn't that normal, was it?
Unfortunately, he had a feeling that there was some ominous Sword of Damocles hanging off in the distance above his head, completely out of his sight. No matter how he anticipated good things in their future, they were practically set up for success already so long as they waited, there was always one little detail that brought him right back around to questioning everything, the mission. It wasn't their mission to repopulate, but the mission hinted at by the Arboreal Maiden.
"I hope you love me too. . ."
Despite her calmness when mentioning it to him, there was this air of a hurried panic that he couldn't quite pin down, like there was something waiting out there, something even she couldn't stop. There were little details that supported that theory of his. Why did he need to be a god? Wasn't she already a god? If she couldn't do it, why could he? Was it more the case that she needed another's assistance? But if that was the case, wouldn't anyone else do? Could their technology, one of the only real advantages they had here, be of assistance? But if that was true why didn't she mention anything about it? Surely that was an important detail.
". . . I hope you love me as much as I love you."
The last of the big issues on Donovan's mind faded away, his attention now being drawn to the events of the day. The tournament. It promised to be a handful and a headache, but hopefully he would get something out of it. Experience would be useful, even if it was the experience of death. Admittedly that was something he was still apprehensive about, but it wasn't supposed to really be death, just cutting it close.
The bigger issue for him is that he really wouldn't have a way to gauge the performance of his subordinates. He could trust Titanyana to do well, and he didn't think she would lie to him about her placement, but he couldn't say the same for the others. Len would probably be honest with him, he just seemed like that sort of kid, but he couldn't be too certain about the others. Despite their claims to honor and uphold their contract, could he trust them to be honest with him?
No, that wasn't any way to run his squad. It might not be reliable, but a commander who couldn't trust his subordinates would inevitably train subordinates who couldn't trust their commander. He would take their reports at face value, maybe probing to get some more details about where they could improve, but he wouldn't be outright suspicious about their claims unless they seemed to be incredibly suspicious outcomes. If he found out one of them had lied to him at a later date, he would deal with the consequences then. Conditioning was proving to be a punishing experience for them all, and it would in all likelihood prove to be that way in the future.
A buzzing from from the bedside table told him that time was up. He had set the alarm to be a little later today, a whole hour in fact, but an hour and a half with her felt just as short as only thirty minutes. Slowly, carefully, gently, he began to slide his arm out from underneath her. There wasn't much he could do about twisting her shirt around, but he could make it so that he didn't disturb her.
". . . hrrmmm." A faint moan escaped Diana's lips, and slowly she rolled over to face him.
Donovan had not yet completely evacuated his forearm yet, so they were back to being body to body, this time chest to chest. As she shimmied closer into him, her eyes slowly opened. She was groggy, tired, but she was awake. Donovan cursed himself for waking her up, even though the feeling her cuddling gave him made him very happy.
". . . already?"
It was a quiet complaint, barely any force or conviction behind it and not even fully voiced, but Donovan's willingness to leave her suffered a big hit.
"I've got to get ready for the tournament Babe."
A pet name. Not his first time using one, but it still felt a little uncomfortable. It felt . . . disrespectful, somehow, even though she seemed to really enjoy it.
". . . kisses."
"What?"
". . . gimme kisses."
Sleepy but forceful, Diana tried to pull Donovan even tighter to her body. Her body, still unmotivated this early in the morning, couldn't do what she asked of it. Instead she had to crane her neck forward a bit and place her lips on Donovan's own.
Donovan, still somewhat shocked by the almost childlike outburst, didn't know how to respond until the energy began to drain from Diana's embrace. He wasn't yet used to intimacy, but figured that now would be a good time to respond with a move of his own. Taking the hint from Diana, he pulled her tightly into a hug and reciprocated her kiss. This proved to be the right move, as Diana quietly moaned her approval.
From there Donovan slowly rolled them so that he would be on top of her, both as a way to better leave her without disturbing her further, and to give her the pressure she seemed to want. Of course he wouldn't let his entire body rest on her, that would just be uncomfortable, but he pressed down on her enough to please her.
Eventually, satisfied with their exchange and understanding that he really needed to get going, Donovan slowly let go of her and began to rise. It was an action that brought protest from Diana, both in the form of her holding onto his hug and an agitated groan, but she eventually let him go.
Free to move, Donovan made sure that Diana remained sufficiently covered by the sheets before going about dressing up for the day. He would have to change at the arena, but for now he had to make himself at least somewhat presentable. Once satisfied with how he looked in the little light he had available, he returned to the bed to find Diana had rolled over into the depression he had made where he slept. There was little doubt she was basking in the body warmth he had left behind. Leaning over her from the side of the bed, he planted one last kiss on her cheek, receiving a pleased noise in return.
"I love you, Diana."
". . . wuv you too."
It was quiet, but she also wanted to make her affection known verbally.
"I'm off to the tournament to get my ass kicked, can you make us some friends during class?"
". . . promise."
Donovan smiled at his sleeping princess. She probably wasn't even moderately coherent yet. Consciously making the effort to not disturb her further, Donovan left the bedside and walked towards the door.
". . . knock em flat. . ." A last little bit of encouragement as he opened the door, barely reaching his ears, but it was all he needed to get him through the day.
"Just for you." With that, Donovan walked out the door and quietly closed it.
"Good morning Lord Strauss."
"Good morning Cherry. I see you are up early today."
"Hm? I'm normally up this early. Have I finally beaten you!"
"I'm afraid not, Cherry. I only chose to lay with Diana the extra hour today."
"Oh." Cherry looked genuinely saddened by this. "Well, good luck with the tournament thing today. Are you going to eat breakfast?"
"Thank you Cherry, and yes I will be dining shortly. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could I bother you to treat Diana to something a little more luxurious today? I worry that she will stress out over my wellbeing, so I would like for her to have something to take her mind off of it, even if only for this morning."
"Surest thing sir! I'll be sure to relay to the cooks and break out my finest tea!" Despite her enthusiasm, Cherry had the tact to keep her voice down.
"Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be going."
Donovan straightened out his apparel now that he could actually see properly, and made his way to the dining room. He had a long day ahead of him, and he needed to make sure he was properly fed.