Chapter Text
The Space Station was unusually quiet, save for the faint hum of machinery and the occasional beep from Herta’s countless monitors. In her private lab surrounded by holographic data streams and half-finished puppets. Herta, her doll version sat cross-legged on a floating chair. Her brow furrowed in a way that would’ve alarmed her colleagues not because of some cosmic anomaly or a glitch in the Simulated Universe but because of a far more perplexing problem: what to get Caelus for his birthday.
Herta tapped her chin, her purple eyes narrowing at the holographic tablet in her hand.
“This is illogical,” she muttered. “Gift-giving is just an exchange of material goods to signify emotional attachment. Why is it so complicated?”
Caelus, the Trailblazer with a penchant for diving headfirst into chaos and collecting random trinkets from across the cosmos wasn’t the type to ask for much. He was content with exploring new worlds, cracking jokes with the Astral Express crew, diving through trashcans, and occasionally dragging Herta into his wild adventures. But his birthday was tomorrow and Herta for all her genius as a member of the Genius Society... Was stumped.
She swiped through a list she’d compiled, titled “Potential Gifts for Caelus.” The entries were… eclectic. She thought.
Item 1: A rare manuscript on pre-IPC economic systems. Rejected. Caelus would probably use it as a coaster. Boring.
Item 2: A custom-built mini Simulated Universe console. Too self-indulgent. She’d probably end up tinkering with it more than he would.
Item 3: A Living Pet Trash Can Prototype. Tempting, but Caelus would likely try to “adopt” it and turn it into a galactic mascot. Disaster waiting to happen.
Item 4: A starship. Overkill. Even Herta had limits.
She groaned, tossing the tablet onto a nearby console where it landed with a soft clunk.
“Why isn’t there an algorithm for this?” she muttered. “Input preferences, output perfect gift. Done.”
A soft knock interrupted her spiral. Asta peeked through the lab’s sliding door, her usual cheery demeanor tempered by curiosity. “Madam Herta? You’ve been in here for hours. Everything okay?”
Herta waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. Just… optimizing a personal project.”
Asta raised an eyebrow as she stepped inside.
“Does this ‘project’ have anything to do with Caelus’s birthday tomorrow? I saw you pacing earlier, and you only ever pace when you’re troubled with things.”
“Irrelevant. I’m conducting a… theoretical analysis of optimal gift selection.”
“You’re overthinking it, aren’t you? What does Caelus like?”
“Chaos,” Herta said, almost accusingly. “Exploring, collecting weird junk, bantering with me apparently.” She paused, then added, “He’s infuriatingly unpredictable.”
“That’s your answer, then!” Asta said brightly. “Get him something adventurous but meaningful. Something that shows you get him.”
“That’s… vague. I need data Asta. Parameters not platitudes.”
Asta sighed, then grinned. “Okay, genius. Try this: what’s a moment you two shared that made him happy? Build from there.”
Herta frowned, her mind sifting through memories like a database query. There was one moment, months ago during a mission on a dusty frontier planet. Caelus had found a small cracked compass. A relic from some long-dead explorer. He’d held it up grinning like an idiot and said, “This thing’s useless now, but imagine the stories it could tell!” Herta had rolled her eyes but his excitement over something so simple had stuck with her.
An idea sparked. Herta’s eyes lit up and she spun toward her console, fingers flying across the holographic keys. “Asta, you’re dismissed. I have work to do.”
Asta chuckled, already halfway out the door. “You’re welcome!”
———
The next evening Caelus found a small unassuming box on the table in the Space Station’s lounge. Herta stood nearby, her real body this time, arms crossed trying (and failing) to look nonchalant.
“Open it,” she said, her tone betraying a hint of nervousness.
Caelus raised an eyebrow but complied. Lifting the lid to reveal a sleek palm-sized device. It was a custom-built cosmic compass. Its surface etched with star charts and glowing faintly with holographic markers. Herta had designed it herself using her vast knowledge to create a tool that could map uncharted stellar routes, perfect for a Trailblazer who never stayed still. It wasn’t just a gadget; it was a nod to that cracked compass he’d found. A way to keep exploring with a piece of her genius by his side.
“Herta…” Caelus’s voice was soft, his eyes wide with wonder. “This is insane. How did you-?”
“Don’t get sappy,” she cut in, though her cheeks were faintly pink. “It’s just a navigation tool. Scientifically useful that’s all. I figured you’d… not get lost with it.”
Caelus laughed while spinning the compass in his hand before pulling her into a quick playful hug.
“This is awesome. You’re awesome!”
Herta huffed but she didn’t pull away. “Tch. Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”
But as Caelus grinned and the compass glowed between them. Herta allowed herself a small satisfied smirk. Maybe gift-giving wasn’t so illogical after all.