Miette, Radiolaria, the ship’s captain and myself were gathered in the captain’s quarters in the wee hours of the morning. Radiolaria and myself were present via video, each of us occupying half of a flat-screen television plastered to one wall.

The captain, Ekaterina Savitskaya, was an olive-skinned muscular woman who stood over six feet tall and cut an imposing figure. Her black hair was buzzed short and spiked, and her brown eyes held a fierce and fiery energy. Despite having been awoken only a few minutes ago, she wore a perfectly pressed green dress uniform with red shoulder marks, shiny boots and more decorations pinned to her chest than I could count.

By contrast, Miette was dressed in an oversized pajama shirt which hung down just barely past her thighs. She had a bad case of bedhead, hadn’t even bothered to put on pants and kept yawning.

Ah, I can’t help but feel ashamed of my sloppy pilot. I thought dejectedly.

Radiolaria had just finished her report to the captain. Despite Miette’s reassurances that my access to the ship’s database wouldn’t be noticed, Radiolaria had observed access requests from a Gravity Frame’s computer while her pilot was in her bunk sleeping. Growing suspicious, she had surreptitiously accessed my combat voice recorders and quickly pieced the whole thing together.

Geh! She was inside my system without me even knowing! She’s frighteningly good at her job.

“Miette,” the captain asked in a cool voice as she floated in front of her subordinate. “Do you have anything to add?”

“Eh, not really.” Miette said in a disinterested tone. “Laria got all the details right.”

The captain frowned. “So, to recap. Your refurbished Gravity Frame took control from you mid-combat, enacted its own maneuvers, and revealed it had a newborn AI personality installed? An AI with delusions of being a disembodied human mind from an alternate timeline? And despite the nonsensical nature of her story, you gave free her access to the ship’s computer?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Miette responded, yawning.

“Then why,” the captain continued, her eyes narrowing, “did you not report ANY of this to your superiors?”

Miette shrugged. “Because Sveta asked me not to.”

“Because Sveta ASKED…” the captain gawped.

Miette just nodded.

The captain took a moment to gather herself, and then kicked off against the floor, floated over to Miette and placed her grimacing face mere inches away from her subordinate’s.

“I don’t need to remind you of our present situation. We only have FOUR operational Gravity Frames, less than one-third of our full strength, and repairs on the rest will take weeks. And now you tell me a completely unknown AI seized control of your unit, impaired your combat capability, and you aided it in potentially compromising ship’s systems?!”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Captain Savitskaya balled up one of her hands into a fist and smashed it into Miette’s cheek, sending her twisting and flying into a bulkhead. The captain floated backwards from the force of the punch, but quickly alighted on the floor. It took Miette a few moments to recover, eyes wide as she rubbed her now-bruised cheek. Her previous nonchalant attitude was entirely gone.

“Wha…”

Captain Savitskaya floated above her, hand on her hips. “You don’t respect me? Fine. You don’t like authority? Fine. I don’t even give two shits if you hate my guts with a burning rage and want to shove a rusty knife through my ribs. I’ve commanded a dozen hotshot pilots like you, all ego and bluster, and I’ll command a dozen more before I’m in my grave. We don’t have to like each other to work together. But, let me make this crystal clear. If you EVER hide anything from me again, or fail to follow one of my orders, or do ANYTHING that puts my ship and her crew in danger, I will summarily execute you myself. DO I MAKE MYSELF UNDERSTOOD?”

Still rubbing her cheek and looking like a deer caught in headlights, Miette responded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” She turned around, facing the screen where Radiolaria and myself were displayed. “2^nd Lieutenant Miette Levesque, for the crime of concealing vital information from a superior officer, and the crime of giving computer access to a non-military entity, I sentence you to thirty days in the ship’s brig. Your sentence is suspended until the ship exits its current emergency situation. Additionally, I’m assigning you to four weeks of latrine cleaning duty, and I’m also reducing your accumulated shore leave by three months.”

Wah! She threw the book at her! Captain Savitskaya is super harsh!

The captain looked over her shoulder at Miette. “The only reason I’m letting you off so lightly is because of your accomplished record of service with the USSE army. You’re a skilled pilot, and I hate to see talent go to waste. However, no matter how good you THINK your skills are, you are ultimately replaceable. Keep that in mind.”

“Understood, ma’am.” Miette said, casting her gaze to the floor. I detected just the slightest hint of sulkiness in her voice.

“As for YOU,” the captain said, turning those terrifying eyes my way, “you’re not formally a member of the Army, so I’m not quite sure WHAT to do with you. All signs point to you not understanding the seriousness of your actions, so I can’t exactly subject you to military justice. What I’d like to discuss instead is your future.”

I gulped.

*****

The captain sat on her bed, rubbing her temples. Miette floated off to one corner, not making a peep.

“My first instinct would be to remove your computer core from the Nighthawk Gravity Frame. I can’t leave one of our only operational units in the hands of an untrained rookie. However, switching out the cores would require an overhaul of at least a full week, and that’s time we don’t have right now.”

“We could simply take the Nighthawk off active duty until we can get it properly serviced at a spacedock.” Radiolaria suggested.

“Also not an option. Remember, only have four combat-ready Frames.” the captain sighed.

I balled my fists and gathered up my courage, doing my best to keep my voice from quivering in front of these two intimidating military women. “Uh…”

The captain glared.

“Ahaha… I wouldn’t mind fighting, too. If you’ll let me…”

“Really now?” she asked icily.

“I mean… please don’t misunderstand. I’m really, really, REALLY scared. I don’t WANT to fight against super creepy alien monsters! But it seems like the ship is in trouble, and you need me to fight, right? If I don’t, everyone on the ship, including me, could die!”

“That’s… true.” the captain said reluctantly.

“Captain, please!” Radiolaria protested. “You can’t seriously be considering this? She’s completely untrained! A total rookie! And she thinks she’s reincarnated from another timeline, which speaks volumes about her mental instability! We can’t place the safety of the ship in the hands of such an untrustworthy AI!”

“And our other option is what exactly?” the captain responded tartly. “Make do with only three Frames? That just makes a bad situation needlessly worse.”

“A poor soldier is worse than no soldier at all!” Radiolaria retorted.

“True. But Sveta won’t be doing the piloting, Miette will. RIGHT?” the captain said, glaring at me with an expression that made it clear that question had only one correct response.

“R-Right!!” I responded.

The captain turned to Miette. “In exchange, you must make absolutely sure no harm comes to the Nighthawk unit. UNDERSTOOD?” Once again her tone brooked no dissent.

“Yes ma’am!” Miette responded without hesitation.

“Good. Sveta, as of this moment, I am issuing you an emergency field commission as a military Artificial Intelligence in the United Soviet States of Earth Revolutionary Army.”

“R-Roger that, ma’am!” I said, awkwardly saluting and trying to seem professional.

“As for you, Radiolaria. Take Sveta and drill the basics into her. Neither of you AIs are to rest until Sveta has a firm grasp on military fundamentals. You may use any method necessary short of torture.”

TORTURE? Is it even possible to torture an AI?! What have I gotten myself into?!

Radiolaria looked like she wanted to protest, but a single glare from the captain shut her up. She then turned to look at me once more.

“Sveta. Earlier you said you were scared. That is a good thing. Fear is what keeps a soldier alive on the battlefield. Let your fear inform your actions, but do not let it control you. Treat it like an old friend.”

JUST WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

“That’s all for now. All three of you are dismissed.”

And with that, my very first utterly terrifying meeting with the ship’s captain was over.

*****

As soon at the video chat switched off, Radiolaria glared daggers at me. The two of us were in her personal virtual space, which was a spartan office constructed of concrete blocks, lit by florescent strips in the ceiling, and featuring only a single metal desk and several office chairs. Truly, it was a space as professional and extreme as she was. She was sitting behind her desk, arms folded over her chest, and I was sitting in front of it on one of the chairs. It felt like an interrogation.

There was a long, awkward silence. Radiolaria was the first to break it.

“First, let me clear up one thing. After the events of the last hour, you’re probably thinking ‘Ahh, she’s a total bitch! She absolutely hates me!’”

Geh! She hit the nail on the head!

“T-That’s not true…” I said slowly.

“Please, don’t try to spare my feelings. I have neither the need nor the desire to justify myself to you. Just know that every action I take, harsh as it may seem, serves the sole purpose of safeguarding this ship and the 237 souls aboard her. I am, by the way, including you in that count.”

“Ah…” I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Our survival now depends on you, your pilot and your peers. I expect you to take this training seriously and give it your total attention and effort. If you are truly ready to follow through on the resolve you showed the captain, you and I will get along just fine.”

Is she trying to be nice to me? In an incredibly obtuse way?

“L-Let’s get along, then!  Allow me to introduce myself properly!” I held out my hand. “I’m Sveta, the giant robot girl!!”

She clicked her tongue. “I will never understand where you find the energy to manifest such pep. Well, it’s unimportant.” She grasped my hand and shook it. “I am Radiolaria, Central Artificial Intelligence of the SGFC-81 Radiolaria. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Now, let’s begin by uploading the TO&E’s and combat manuals into your mainframe.” She manifested the virtual representation of several data files on her desk, which took the form of manila filing folders stuffed with documents. I grabbed them up eagerly and absorbed the data.

*****

One of the biggest conundrums facing AIs in this world was the difference between knowledge and wisdom. Knowledge was simply an accumulation of data, which could be pre-programmed, downloaded and uploaded with ease. My own programming was what enabled my automatic responses to my pilot, as well as my instinctual understanding of my own capabilities such as the ability to generate virtual spaces to better visualize and actualize data.

Wisdom, on the other hand, was the sum total of one’s life experience. It could not simply be pre-programmed, and was instead gained by engaging in action and observing consequences. It was a simple matter to fill my mainframe with knowledge, but wisdom was something I’d have to organically develop over time.

In other words, even with all manner of rules, regulations, field manuals and battle tactics crammed into my hard drive, I would still be relying on Miette and her nine years of combat experience to make up for my own neophyte shortcomings. Radiolaria, an AI with over ten years of uptime, emphasized this point to me again and again.

She was a strict teacher, but not a cruel one. Her methodology was precise, and it was only my own nature as a fellow AI that allowed me to keep up with her. If my old human self were going through this, I would have failed long ago. Perfect memory recall was truly a gift.

After we had covered the standard TO&E’s and combat manuals, Radiolaria said something surprising.

“It’s time to take a break.”

“A break? We’re machines, right? We don’t need to rest!”

She sighed, and her gaze grew wistful. “Not physically, no. But mentally, rest is important for continued peak functionality. Putting aside your UNIQUE backstory, we AIs were modeled on human minds and share many of the shortcomings of our creators, such as the accumulation of mental fatigue.”

Why is nobody willing to believe I reincarnated?! Is it really as crazy as it sounds?! I anguished.

“We will reconvene in three hours. Please use that time to relax. It may be prudent to reconnect with your pilot as well.”

“Ah yeah.” I replied. “I should apologize to her for causing so much trouble…”

Radiolaria nodded.

Just then, klaxons blared through the room and the lights took on a red tinge. Radiolaria quickly brought up several holographic displays and scanned them.

“An enemy ship has crossed the Absolute Lunar Defense Line. All units are to sortie immediately.”

She added, wryly, “It would seem there is no rest for the weary.”