Chapter 3: An Unbelievable Database! 

I just want to go home… If this is really Star Wars, those terrifying Star Destroyers will crush us… Ventus clutches his forehead, sitting in silence for a long moment. The thrill of seeing the Kushan mothership from Homeworld come to life has completely evaporated. 

“Alright, Qiiji, my chief of staff, can you give me a rundown of our defensive forces?” Ventus pulls himself together, deciding to at least put up a fight. 

Qiiji snaps into action, answering confidently, “We have five Arrow-class scout ships and five Blade-class light fighters.” 

Ventus keeps a polite smile plastered on his face, staring at Qiiji. An awkward silence stretches on for over ten seconds before he speaks again, still smiling. “Go on, I’m waiting.” 

“That’s it.” 

Pfft! Ventus nearly spits blood. “You’re telling me a mothership carrying 650,000 people is protected by five scout ships and five fighters?!” 

Qiiji lowers his head quickly. “I’m sorry, Administrator. The navigation logs are completely gone, so I have no idea what happened during our journey. The reality is, these small ships are all we have to protect us.” 

“Mainframe, pull up the specs. Let’s see what kind of holy relics these scout ships and fighters are. They’ve got to at least match a Gundam in performance, right?” Ventus slumps back into his chair. 

A holographic projection flickers to life, displaying a clunky, ugly triangular ship. Mainframe’s voice chimes in: [This is the Arrow-class scout ship. Length: 9.5 meters. No hyperspace capability or atmospheric combat functionality. Maximum acceleration: 100G. Equipped with two low-grade electromagnetic cannons, mounted on the left side of the hull to make room for the afterburner chamber. Ammunition capacity is limited.] 

The projection switches to a slightly bulkier ship, rectangular with a cockpit jutting out on the right and two six-barreled electromagnetic cannons in the center. Mainframe continues: [This is the Blade-class light fighter. Length: 11.3 meters. No hyperspace capability or atmospheric combat functionality. Maximum acceleration: 85G. Equipped with two six-barreled electromagnetic cannons.] 

Ventus collapses face-first onto the floor… ORZ. 

“Administrator, are you okay?” Qiiji hurries over but hesitates to help him up. 

Ventus takes a moment to recover, standing with a dry cough. “So, aside from these two pieces of junk, we’re basically defenseless, right? Mainframe, explain! You set out to colonize with this?” 

[The database contains no records of how this mothership embarked on its colonization mission. However, it is confirmed that our resources are extremely limited. The mothership was originally equipped with a dock module capable of constructing cruisers, but to accommodate the 5 billion frozen embryos, the massive embryo bank took up most of the space. Until a separate space dock is built, we can only produce fighters and transport ships.] 

“What happens if enemies attack?!” Ventus shouts. 

[Preliminary scans indicate no other habitable planets within 50 light-years of this system. This colony is safe for now.] 

“Don’t worry, Administrator!” Qiiji says, his voice tinged with pride. “Our database contains an incredibly comprehensive archive of ship designs! Have you forgotten? It was you who granted us this supreme honor, allowing us to board this unparalleled mothership!” 

“Mainframe, what’s in our database?” Ventus turns to ask. 

[The database contains data on numerous other ships, including motherships over a kilometer long. However, data alone isn’t enough to build them. The research department must convert this data into production capabilities, which requires significant time and resources.] 

Ventus’s curiosity piques. “Show me the ships!” 

A flood of data and entries fills the screen, overwhelming his vision. The list includes not only spacecraft but also technologies spanning civilian, societal, and cultural fields. 

This makes him pause. Homeworld didn’t have this many ships. Even combining all the Homeworld games, there’d be maybe 100 designs at most. So where did this galaxy’s worth of projects come from? 

Then, familiar silhouettes flash across the screen… 

Wait a second… Raven-class battleship? Minotaur-class battlecruiser? Cole-class battlecruiser? Orion-class assault carrier? Infinity-class supermothership? As the familiar names and designs appear, Ventus’s jaw drops, nearly hitting the floor. 

“What’s going on? This insane database… does it include every sci-fi space game ever made?” Ventus mutters. 

[To be precise, it contains data from games the author has played—amp;amp;%$#%$# system error*(^%$$, repair complete.] Mainframe emits a burst of static before continuing: [This data has always existed in the database. No further information is available.] 

“Hold on! That kilometer-long ship you mentioned… no way!” Ventus’s eyes widen as he searches the list. Sure enough, a breathtakingly ornate golden warship appears. “The… Spear of Adun? It’s really the Spear of Adun! The Protoss mothership from StarCraft!” 

[Correct. This ship is the Spear of Adun, with a length of 1 kilometer.] 

“Can we build the Spear of Adun? What do we need?” Ventus’s voice trembles with excitement. 

[Construction of the Spear of Adun is currently impossible. Even with sufficient workers and resources, the vast technological gap means we cannot produce even a single component. Construction can only begin after the research department fully analyzes and masters the Spear of Adun’s data.] 

Ventus gives a bitter laugh, quickly grasping the obvious. “Yeah, I get it. Protoss tech is a completely different beast from ours. Building something like that is a pipe dream.” 

“Administrator, what are the Protoss?” Qiiji asks. 

“Nothing. Filter out these unrealistic projects and show me what we can build,” Ventus says, waving a hand. 

[The mothership’s built-in production lines can only manufacture Arrow-class scout ships, Blade-class light fighters, and a small transport ship for shuttling cargo between the planet and the mothership. Building larger ships requires constructing a space dock. There are also some technologies close to our current capabilities that the research department could analyze quickly. Would you like a list?] 

“No need for now. We don’t have the space or resources to invest in research yet,” Ventus shakes his head, snapping back into focus. He turns to the clerical staff. “Have we inventoried the mothership’s supplies?” 

“Yes, sir. As the core computer stated, our supplies are well below critical levels. The agriculture department just reported that most of the crops in the hydroponic bays have withered,” a female clerk replies. “The best option is to start landing operations soon. We should be able to find food on the planet.” 

“Qiiji, arrange to produce five more Arrow-class scouts and 20 Blade-class fighters. Wake up 20 pilots to ensure the mothership’s basic security. Then send transport ships to scout Dawn Planet and identify a landing site. Also, wake up 50 marines and keep them on standby.” 

“Yes, sir!” Qiiji salutes sharply and dives into the task. 

“One more thing,” Ventus calls after him. “This is the starting point of our journey in this unfamiliar universe. From now on, we’ll call this habitable planet Dawn Planet! This will be our new home!” 

“Yes! Dawn Planet! Our new home!” Qiiji’s eyes shine with excitement as he salutes again. 

Everyone on the bridge rises to salute, then bursts into applause, sharing their enthusiasm with one another. 

But as the crew cheers, Ventus sighs, his face devoid of joy. He sits back down like a zombie. The earlier excitement has faded, replaced by a creeping melancholy. Amid the jubilant command center, he feels like an outsider, overwhelmed by crushing loneliness. 

If he had a choice, he’d rather be back in his warm, happy home, surrounded by family, cozy and peaceful—not bearing the weight of 600,000 lives or facing the prospect of a galaxy-spanning war. 

He hasn’t forgotten the dream or the Star Wars battlefield he saw. If this is truly the Star Wars universe, the wars here rage across the entire galaxy, with billions or trillions caught in the crossfire. What he has in his hands doesn’t amount to much. 

“Star Wars, huh…” Ventus mutters, forcing a smile as he watches Qiiji and the others cheer.