Julius's sleep had been deep, heavy, dreamless. For six hours, his body and mind had finally completely disconnected from the nightmare of his new reality.
Hunger woke him. An animal hunger that twisted his guts. He got up, stretching his muscular body which barely protested. His old tattered clothes lay on the floor. In their place, on a stand, was a uniform. Steel gray, sober but well-cut, with simple epaulettes and sturdy boots beside it. The command uniform promised by Data.
He put it on. It fit him perfectly. For the first time, he looked like what he was supposed to be: a commander.
He left his quarters and stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping.
The cavern... was no longer a cavern.
The space had tripled in volume. The rocky ceiling had been breached, letting in the wan daylight through a thick plastisteel dome supported by steel girders. Additional levels had been dug and built into the walls, connected by metal staircases and bridges. Standard Terran buildings – additional Barracks, a imposing Factory, a Starport under assembly – lined up with geometric precision.
And the noise! It was the organized sound of a hive in full swing. The roar of generators, the hiss of welders, the rumble of conveyor belts, and, above all, the concentrated hum of hundreds of people.
Engineers in suits supervised the installation of missile turrets on the interior ramparts. Teams of Marines, recognizable by their armor, trained on an improvised firing range. Civilians hurried through the nascent streets, heading to their posts.
"Whoa..." breathed Julius, unable to formulate a more complex thought.
In six hours. Six hours.
His gaze was drawn to a familiar form near the Command Center, now flanked by an additional control tower. Data, still in his bright red Starfleet uniform, was discussing with a Terran engineer. The android pointed a finger towards a holographic schematic, made a remark, and the engineer nodded with a mix of respect and awe before running off.
Data turned and his golden eyes settled on Julius.
"Commander. I hope your rest cycle was restorative. Your new uniform appears adequate."
"Data... What is... How did you do all this in so little time?"
"Optimization was necessary, Commander. I reassigned 87% of available SCVs to structural expansion and defense. I also streamlined the production chain, reducing Factory construction time by 22.3%. The civilian population has been organized into specialized teams to maximize efficiency."
He gestured to the immense space.
"The dome excavation was a priority to avoid long-term ventilation issues. We have reached a critical level of production and expansion. However, this rapid growth generates a new problem."
"Which one?" asked Julius, following Data who set off at a brisk pace towards what looked like a mobile cafeteria.
"The lack of a clear command structure, Commander. Currently, all decisions, even minor ones, escalate to you or myself. This model is not scalable. A formal chain of command, with defined ranks and responsibilities, is required for optimal efficiency."
They entered the cafeteria, a large hall filled with tables where Terrans of all professions ate and talked. A murmur of respect ran through the room at Julius's entrance. He felt uncomfortable again.
Data, however, seemed completely impervious to the attention. He took a tray and handed it to Julius.
"I recommend synthetic protein stew No. 4. Its nutritional value is optimal."
Julius, too hungry to argue, nodded and served himself. As he ate voraciously, Data continued, standing beside the table as if in a briefing.
"I propose the following hierarchical structure, inspired by Terran and Starfleet military models, but adapted to our context:
- Supreme Commander: Julius Braveheart.Absolute authority.
- Executive Officer / Principal Advisor: Myself.Operational management and strategic counsel.
- "Captain" Rank:For Marine company commanders, chief pilots, or lead engineers. They will have authority over their respective domains.
- "Lieutenant" Rank:For squad leaders, foremen of specialized teams.
- "Sergeant" Rank:For leaders of small teams or veterans.
- Specialists & Civilians:With designated team leaders."
Data displayed a list of names on his integrated PADD.
"Based on performance observed over the last 5.8 hours, I recommend the following promotions for the 'Captain' positions..."
Julius listened, eating his stew while looking out the large cafeteria window. He saw the "city" spreading, organized, efficient. Data was right. They were no longer a handful of survivors. They were a faction in the making. And a faction needed a framework.
He swallowed his last mouthful.
"Approved, Data. Do it. Promote them. And post the new hierarchical structure for all to see."
"Immediately, Commander."
Julius stood up, feeling full and... in control. He was no longer just a lucky survivor with a system. He was the leader of a nascent community. And with Data handling the details, he could finally focus on the essentials: strategy, expansion, and long-term survival in this merciless universe.
The creation of ranks wasn't just a formality. It was the birth of a nation.