The planet didn't exist yet, but Master Forger Terra Genesis could already see it in her mind—a perfect blue-green jewel orbiting at exactly 1.2 AU from its parent star.
"Beginning mass accumulation phase," she announced to her team of Planet Forgers, the engineers who built worlds from cosmic dust. Around her, the construction zone buzzed with activity as gravity tractors shepherded asteroids into position, and mass drivers fired streams of carefully selected materials into the growing gravitational well.
"Composition?" asked her deputy, Core Builder Magma Heart, his hands dancing through holographic displays showing elemental ratios.
"Earth-analog with modifications. Sixty percent silicates, twenty percent iron-nickel, fifteen percent volatiles, five percent rare elements including platinum group metals for future industrial use." Terra paused, considering. "And increase the phosphorus content by twelve percent. The commissioning civilization values biodiversity—phosphorus scarcity won't limit their evolution."
Planet forging had come a long way from the early days of terraforming existing worlds. Why modify what nature provided when you could build exactly what you needed? The Forgers had learned to create worlds from scratch, positioning them in perfect orbits, with ideal compositions for their intended purposes.
This particular commission came from the Shepherds of Sagittarius, a nomadic civilization whose home system had been destroyed by a gamma-ray burst. They'd traveled for millennia in generation ships, searching for a new home. Finding none suitable, they'd pooled their resources to commission a custom world.
"Cultural specifications are... interesting," noted Atmosphere Weaver, studying the client requirements. "They want seasonal variations matching their original world's 437-day year, three moons for their religious observations, and specific mineral distributions that match their archaeological sites' patterns."
"They want to rebuild their heritage," Terra understood. "Not just a planet, but a home. Make sure the continental distributions allow for it. We'll need to plan the tectonic plate boundaries carefully."
The first phase took fifty years. Trillions of tons of material, carefully selected and sorted, fell into the growing gravity well. The Forgers worked like cosmic sculptors, using gravitational fields to shape the accumulation. Too fast, and the planet would be a molten hell for eons. Too slow, and it would never develop the internal heat needed for a magnetic field.
Core Builder Magma Heart specialized in the deep architecture. He designed the iron-nickel core with convection cells that would generate a magnetosphere strong enough to protect life but not so strong as to interfere with their clients' technology. Above it, he layered the mantle with precisely calculated viscosity gradients that would drive plate tectonics at just the right pace.
"Core crystallization will begin in 1.2 billion years," he reported. "But I've added uranium deposits at strategic depths. The radioactive decay will maintain mantle convection for at least six billion years after that."
Meanwhile, Atmosphere Weaver began her delicate work. A planet's atmosphere couldn't just be dropped in place—it had to evolve naturally from outgassing, comet impacts, and chemical reactions. She programmed the sequence carefully: first the primary atmosphere of hydrogen and helium, which would be stripped away by stellar wind. Then volcanic outgassing would create the secondary atmosphere, rich in carbon dioxide and water vapor.
"I'm accelerating the process using catalytic asteroidal impacts," she explained. "Each impact is calculated to deliver specific volatiles while triggering volcanic activity in precise locations. The atmosphere will be breathable in three hundred years instead of three million."
But the true artistry came from Ocean Sculptor Tidal Dream. The Shepherds' specifications called for 68% ocean coverage with seventeen major seas separated by three continents. Each sea needed specific depth profiles to match their ancestral sailing traditions.
"Watch this," Tidal Dream said with pride as she initiated the water delivery phase. Comets, captured from the system's outer reaches and purified of harmful compounds, began their calculated death spirals. They hit the cooling planet in a choreographed sequence, each impact timed to deliver water to specific basins she had shaped in the crust.
The planet's three moons required equal attention. Luna Architect Orbital Dancer positioned each satellite to create complex tidal patterns that matched the Shepherds' historical records. The largest moon, positioned at 380,000 kilometers, would drive the primary tides. The two smaller moons, in resonant orbits, would create the subtle variations their culture associated with fortune and wisdom.
"The tidal pools will form here, here, and here," Orbital Dancer indicated on the map. "Just as they did on their original world. Their poets spoke of 'the triple dance of silver sisters.' They'll have it again."
As the planet took shape, unexpected beauty emerged. The interaction between the three moons created aurora patterns unlike anything in nature—sheets of light that danced across the sky in complex rhythms. The mineral distributions Terra had designed formed crystalline caves that sang in the wind. The continental positions created ocean currents that drew perfect spirals visible from orbit.
"We're not just engineers," Terra reminded her team as they watched sunrise on their creation for the first time. "We're giving a displaced people their dreams made real. Every choice we make echoes through geological time."
The Shepherds arrived as the final touches were being applied. Their generation ships, worn from millennia of travel, took up orbit around their new world. Terra would never forget the moment their representatives first set foot on the planet they'd named New Pasture.
Elder Shepherd Star Wanderer, ancient beyond measure, knelt and touched the soil with trembling hands. "It even smells right," she whispered. "Like home before the burning."
But not everything went smoothly. A faction among the Shepherds, led by Prophet Void Caller, believed that accepting an artificial world was betraying their journey. "We were meant to wander," he preached. "This perfect world is a cage built from our memories."
The conflict came to a head when Void Caller's followers attempted to destabilize the planet's orbit, planning to continue their eternal journey. Terra and her team had to make a choice—intervene to protect their creation or let the clients decide its fate.
"It's their world now," Terra decided, though it pained her to see her masterwork threatened. "We build, but we don't own."
The Shepherds held a referendum, the first democratic action on their new world. By a narrow margin, they chose to stay. But in wisdom, they also chose to honor the wanderers. A continent was set aside for those who wished to continue journeying, with launch facilities for those who heard the void's call.
Terra Genesis and her team departed, leaving behind a world that would grow and change beyond their design. Lakes would form where none were planned. Evolution would take unexpected turns. The Shepherds would make their own mark on the planet, creating a blend of the designed and the organic.
Years later, Terra received a message from New Pasture. It included images of children playing in tidal pools exactly where Orbital Dancer had predicted, of cities growing along the continental margins she'd shaped, of forests spreading in patterns guided by the mineral distributions Core Builder had designed.
But it also showed surprises. A volcano had emerged where none was planned, becoming sacred to their culture. An ocean current had shifted, creating a new weather pattern they'd named "Terra's Breath" in her honor. Life had found its own way, as it always did.
"Thank you," the message concluded, "for giving us not just a world, but a canvas. We paint our future on the foundation you provided."
Terra smiled, already deep in design work for her next project—a binary planet system for a species that existed in quantum superposition. Each world would be different, but the principle remained the same. Planet Forgers didn't just build worlds. They built possibilities, hopes made real in rock and water and sky.
The cosmos was vast and mostly empty, but wherever life needed a home, the Planet Forgers stood ready to kindle new worlds from the dust of dying stars. Each planet a unique expression of their art, each one a seed for futures unimaginable.