The third month brought the final, most complex stage of construction: Propulsion and Control. The Star of the Sea now possessed a skeletal frame of immense strength and a pulsing, sapphire heart, but it was still a prisoner of the canyon's currents. To Mark, a ship that could only drift was a failure. He needed a vessel that could hunt the wind, outrun the storm, and maneuver with the predatory grace of a Leonopteryx.
[ANALYZING MATERIAL: GHOST-SILK]
[DETECTING PIEZOELECTRIC PROPERTIES: ACTIVE]
[INITIATING FLIGHT CONTROL FIRMWARE UPDATE...]
Sänume returned to her loom, but she was no longer weaving the heavy, wind-resistant wool of the Tayrangi. Under Mark's direction, she began working with Ghost-Silk, a rare, translucent filament harvested from the deep-canyon spiders that lived in the magnetic flux zones. This material was naturally conductive, woven with piezoelectric fibers that reacted to the micro-electrical impulses of a Na'vi's nervous system.
Together, they designed three tiered, forward-leaning sails. In the daylight, they were a ghostly, translucent cyan; at night, they shimmered with the geometric "ghost-lines" of Mark's digital mind, projecting a HUD-like navigation map directly onto the fabric.
"These aren't sails in the way your father understands them, Sänume," Mark explained as they rigged the primary mast. He connected his Kuru to the helm, and the silk above them suddenly stiffened, turning from soft cloth to a rigid, drum-tight plate. "They are Neural-Reactive Membranes. Through the System, I can tell the silk to change its physical density. If a storm-shear hits us, the silk becomes porous, letting the lethal winds pass through the fabric like a ghost. If we need a burst of speed, the fibers tighten into a solid wall, capturing every ounce of kinetic energy."
While Sänume perfected the sails, Mark and Txon focused on the ship's "feet"—the Bio-Stabilizers. Beneath the hull, they encouraged the growth of four massive, twitching fins. Using the System to regulate the calcium and protein intake of the wood's living tissue, Mark molded these fins to mimic the pectoral musculature of a Great Leonopteryx.
[ACTUATING FIN-STRUCTURES: 0.04s RESPONSE TIME]
[OPTIMIZING AERODYNAMIC DRAG...]
[STABILIZER CALIBRATION: COMPLETE]
These fins were the ship's active steering. Through the link, Mark could feel the micro-currents of the air. If the ship tilted too far in a bank, the System would automatically twitch the stabilizers to compensate, providing a level of stability that no manual rudder could ever achieve.
The final touch was the Aura of Command. As the piezoelectric wood of the hull reached its final stage of growth, the constant friction of the canyon mist against the amber surface began to generate a massive static charge. Traditionally, this was a danger to airships, but Mark's System saw a resource to be harvested.
[ENERGY SURPLUS DETECTED: 15.4kV]
[DIRECTING CHARGE TO FORWARD SPUR]
[IONIZED SHIELD ACTIVE: DRAG REDUCED BY 30%]
He channeled this charge to the ship's forward spur, creating a shimmering blue field of ionized air—a "shimmer" that sliced through atmospheric resistance. On the final night of the third month, the mist finally broke, revealing a moonlit sky. The ship hummed with a vibrant, living energy that resonated in Mark's own chest.
Suddenly, the cyan light in Mark's vision flickered, and a final prompt appeared on the HUD, pulsing with a golden urgency.
[CONSTRUCTION COMPLETE]
[DESIGNATION: UNTITLED]
[SYSTEM REQUIRES UNIQUE IDENTIFIER TO FINALIZE NEURAL MAPPING...]
[PLEASE ENTER SHIP NAME:]
Mark stared at the prompt, his breath hitching. He wasn't the only one waiting. Sänume, Txon, and Kìreysì stepped closer, their faces illuminated by the ship's sapphire heart. They had bled for this wood; they had been exiled for this dream. Mark stood at the helm, his left arm now fully covered in the swirling tattoos of Land, Air, and Sea, the four stars on his shoulder blade gleaming in the dark.
"It is finished, isn't it?" Kìreysì asked, his voice a whisper of awe as he ran a hand over the polished amber railing. He looked at Mark, his eyes searching. "Mark, you have given it a heart. You have given it breath and skin. But it cannot fly without a name. It must be known by Eywa. What do you call it?"
"Tell us," Sänume added, her eyes reflecting the shimmering ghost-silk. "What is the name of our home?"
Mark looked up at the vast canopy of stars reflecting in the ship's iridescent hull. He felt the ship breathe beneath his feet, a living bridge between his human past and his Na'vi future. He reached out to the System's interface with his mind, the cyan glow of his eyes intensifying.
"Tanhì a Txampay," he replied firmly. "Star of the Sea."
As he spoke the words, the System's HUD flashed a final, triumphant gold.
[DESIGNATION ACCEPTED: TANHÌ A TXAMPAY]
[ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL: WEAPONIZED AERODYNAMICS ENGAGED]
[SKY-PATH CALCULATING...]
Kìreysì repeated the words slowly, a smile spreading across his face. "Star of the Sea."
"Because the sky is just another ocean," Mark said, his eyes glowing with a steady, fierce light. "And tonight, we finally learn how to sail it. The world thinks we are hiding in the shadows. Tomorrow, we show them that the shadows have grown wings. We show Rì'al that the sky doesn't belong to the past. It belongs to us."