"I... can do what I want?"

Master merely blinked at me. I was so stupefied that I could barely come up with a response.

"...Unless you don't want to, of course. If you need my presence that much, th-"

"Of course I don't NEED your presence!" My protest was louder than I expected, catching the attention of a few nearby crew members. I involuntarily blushed at the sudden attention, as Master simply shrugged.

"Suit yourself. Please try to avoid disturbing the crew. Remember, 2200." He then simply turned away from me, and focused his attention on the rest of the bridge - clearly his signal that if I wished to leave, now would be the optimal time. I huffed and strode out, my heels leaving a faint click in my wake.

...

Some three-to-five minutes later, I was at a crossroads leading to the most notable areas in the upper ship, including the bridge I just came from. Yet it was only now, after I'd earned some freedom for myself, that an important thought crossed my mind.

I had no idea what to do with my free time.

For at least the past 24 hours of time I've spent in this far-flung future, I've always been in arm's reach of Master. And while he was a controlling and lecherous figure, he was also the only real grounding point I had; a shepherd, of sorts. So without him, I felt inadvertently lost.
As I pondered my pathetic predicament, crewmembers of the Sieglinde passed through the crossroads on their way to various destinations. Most looked like smartly-dressed officers, some had engineering visors on and were pushing boxes of supplies, and others were in full military regalia and were advancing through the halls in formation. I found my gaze get lost on their clean white-and-blue uniforms and black-brimmed caps. It made me wonder where they were all going.

...At that point, an idea finally came to mind; why not explore? I would, after all, be spending the next five years on this vast ship. And it was true that I had wanted to look around one of the cities of the future; the Sieglinde wasn't quite the same, but it was big enough to count. And there were surely interesting sights to be seen. My mind resolved, I headed down the right passageway in the cross-hallway, opening up a mental map of the ship with a spring in my step.

Interestingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly, given this future's obsession with the past), the ship's layout reminded me of a classical frigate... to an extent. The captain and most other high-level officers' rooms, as well as several meeting rooms, were bunched near the upper-back of the vessel, with the bridge being opposite it. Between them were mostly transit hallways, simple in nature to reduce travel time. On lower levels were the usual ship rooms, such as crew's bunks, storage rooms, mess halls and kitchens, medbay, ship docks, engine rooms... all very standard locations, with many of them likely not taking too kindly to unwanted visitors. Outside of them, though, there was also a library, an exercise gymnasium with a pool, multiple small break rooms... enough amenities so one could live here for quite some time. Which, given the nature of this journey, was likely a necessity.
Out of all of them, though, I was most curious about the mess hall. It would make a good, casual starting point for my tour.

It was only a short trip to the mess hall; activity was just beginning to pick up, as the first dinnertime approached for most of the ship's crew. Contrary to most of this society's adherence to 18th-century European aesthetic, the facilities of the Sieglinde (and probably most ships like it) looked reasonably modern. Or 21st century modern, at least. Damn future.
I noted that a few people were eating already; I moved a little closer to see what military meals of the 28th century looked like. It was suitably, disappointingly standard - what appeared to be beef, some bread, and fruit. The only unusual thing was that some of the diners were having a purple juice-like drink, which I'd hesitate to call grape juice given how it slightly glowed.

At that moment I realized many of the crew present were staring at me. I bashfully crept away, being suddenly conscious of my dress and not wanting to draw any more unwanted attention when the actual dinner rush started.

Ultimately, most of the stops on my tour ended up like this. The facilities were either delightfully dull, or the people ogling me made it awkward, or both. I was even held up by a pushy lieutenant near the docks, when he wanted to confirm I was allowed to be there. I wasn't sure what, but something was making this exploration more of a drag than I expected, and I couldn't decide whether it was the time limit or the sense of unfamiliarity. Or something else I couldn't quite place at the moment.

I treaded into the library with some hesitance. Thankfully, this place wasn't totally banal; the decorations and furniture actually made an effort to match the sci-fi European aesthetic of the city. But ultimately, outside of some screens simulating a view of outer space, it was just a library. I sighed, leaning next to one of these "windows". Nobody else was here except for me. I was alone... and perhaps, I always would be, in a way.
I idly checked the time - 2046. Georg's dinner was likely midway through right now. Chatting up with his officers about various generic military topics, no doubt.

There was an empty feeling in my mechanical stomach. When I'm with Master, I can't be myself. But when I was on my own, I was lost. Though it's not like my life... or what I could remember of it, was any better. Perhaps I was doomed to be left feeling incomplete forever.

With over an hour left until I had to return to Master's cabin, I figured I might as well brose the library's selection to see if anything caught my eye. A large amount of fancily-written books, primarily non-fiction in nature, all with their titles in German (which my mind auto-translated for me). They were primarily biographical works or historical accounts, but a few titles seemed familiar to me. Seems some books from my time survived, if the Empire of Humanity saw fit to save them. I briefly paused after seeing a printing of "Mein Kampf" on display, and pulled it out to read its back. Its description noted it as "an early failed attempt to bring modern politics to an ancient world". I shelved the book, and continued skimming.
Halfway through the second bookcase, my eyes were glazing over from all the sophisticated yet samey-sounding titles. I was about ready to give up and leave when my vision fell upon a random book, that seemed to hold no particular significance.

"Where the Gentle Dream Ends: The Rise and Decline of the Neu-Abrahamic Religions. By Diadrich Haager."

...Something about the title flashed a slight spark of recognition in my mind. Nothing certain, nothing concrete, just a feeling of deja vu. Like remembering that you remembered something previously. Slowly scanning every single word, no individual one seemed to jump out at me, not even the writer's name. But reading everything together... brought forth a slight tugging on my thoughts. Something was calling out to me, from the distant past of more than 700 years ago.

Hoping to perhaps pursue this single intangible thread bound to my past, I checked my online database to see if Ma- Georg had it in his collection. To my immense fortune, he did. I pulled it up in my mind, and started to read it as I headed back to Georg's room with roughly an hour to spare. Might as well read it where I won't get any stares. I idly wondered what he was doing right now.