While I was putting rookie AI Sveta through the wringer, another instance of me returned to Captain Savitskaya’s quarters, projected on the room's primary viewscreen. She would doubtless be expecting a report on our progress, among other things.

The captain was casually sipping a cup of coffee and eating a ration bar while watching the cockpit recordings from Sveta and Lieutenant Levesque’s first meeting. Despite being awoken after a mere two hours of sleep, she was still working hard with a determined focus. She was a woman dedicated to duty.

I felt a twinge of longing admiration bubble up in my chest, and I quickly suppressed that feeling. There was no room for foolish sentimentalism in a military environment. I straightened my glasses and saluted. The captain looked up from her charts and nodded.

“How’s she doing?” the captain asked.

“Very well. She’s taking the studying seriously. Her professionalism needs work, but her enthusiasm cannot be faulted.” I replied.

“Good. I’m glad I didn’t judge her incorrectly.” The captain smiled, gently.

Ah. Now this was an expression she only showed to me. Captain Savitskaya needed to project a harsh and confident demeanor in front of her subordinates, as exemplified by the dressing-down she had just given Lieutenant Levesque, so her face wore a scowl most often. She did smile, of course, but those were usually confident smiles, or proud smiles, or fake professional smiles reserved for admirals. Her kind, gentle smiles were a rare, private thing that only ever manifested in front of those close to her.

As the Central Artificial Intelligence of the ship and her personal confidant, I was closest to the captain as a soldier could ever be. That’s why I had the rare privilege of seeing those soft, happy expressions cross her face. Happy expressions were a rarity these days, so I burned each of hers into my database and cherished it.

One benefit of being an AI was my ability to multitask. I could hold dozens of conversations at once. I could run all the ship’s systems simultaneously, doing the work of twenty bridge officers. I could even go off on flighty emotional tangents without breaking my professional demeanor in front of the captain. It was a bad habit of mine, yet one I couldn’t seem to shake. I adjusted my glasses and continued speaking.

“Regarding the other matter, I have performed detailed scans of the Nighthawk’s computer core wherein Sveta currently resides. It is a piece of equipment I am entirely unfamiliar with, but I can confirm the core has sufficient processing power to host an AI.”

The captain’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Well, I suppose we knew that already. How, though? A completely unknown core?”

“It does not match any standard Gravity Frame computer core I am familiar with. The processing power is 10.27 exaflops, or roughly two-thirds of my own. The ability to place that much power in such a small core, and with such a low energy requirement, it beyond humanity’s current technology.”

The captain set down her coffee cup and began to rub her temples. “You just said something extremely troubling.”

“I am well aware. Captain, I believe this computer core’s unique technology is an excellent reason for removing the Nighthawk from combat duty immediately. This core should be taken to a spacedock facility for reverse engineering. It has the potential to revolutionize our computer technology and drive it forwards by decades!”

The captain dismissively waved her hand at me. “I already made my decision regarding that. You know,” she added while looking directly at me, “it was Sveta’s fear of exactly that outcome that lead her and Miette to hide her existence from us in the first place.”

I didn’t have a good response to that, especially not when her eyes were fixed on mine.

“I played the role of disciplinarian. I used the stick, so now it’s time for the carrot. We need to gain their trust. With that in mind, I want no more talk of dissecting Sveta for study. Understood?”

I nodded. “Yes, captain.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re just going to ignore the miracle in front of us, either. I want you to work with Sveta to study her computer core. Use ONLY non-invasive methods. If we include her in the process from the start, it will build trust. I’m certain she is just as curious to learn about herself as we are.”

“Of course, captain. I will begin immediately.”

Even if I didn’t agree with the captain’s decision, I still respected it. She was trying to balance our current situation, where we desperately needed the Nighthawk’s combat ability, with the long-term benefits of understanding this revolutionary technology. She was also being considerate of Sveta’s feelings. Captain Savitskaya was a wise and empathic leader.

The captain continued. “Still, it’s a remarkable thing. Technology decades more advanced than our own. Well, she does claim to be from an alternate timeline. Is it possible…?”

“I highly doubt it. Please remember the timeline she claims to originate from is supposed to be LESS advanced.”

“Ha, true. It’s quite the flight of fancy.” The captain folded her hands in front of her face and was silent for a long while. Then she looked directly at me. “Laria.”

That was a signal. Many of the ship’s crew casually addressed me as Laria, simply because it was shorter than my full name. When the captain did it, however, it meant she wanted to speak privately and personally, as friends rather than military officers.

“Katya.” I responded. That was my own nickname for the captain, one nobody else would dare say to her face.

“What do you think of Sveta? Not as a soldier, not as a combat asset, but as a person?”

I took a few moments to think about that one. “In a word… spunky. She has rampant enthusiasm, and takes great joy in discovering new things. If it were not so absurd a concept, her mannerisms would make it easy to believe she originated from a peaceful world.”

Our own world, one the that had been under threat of annihilation from the Sarcophage for the last three decades, was a grim one. Humanity was in a state of total war, and every human served that war effort from their birth to their death, whether through direct military service, logistics support or industrial work. Quality of life had dropped dramatically as every resource was poured into the military, and the whole species lived in poverty as a result. Even with these self-sacrifices, most felt that humanity’s annihilation was only a matter of time, as the defensive lines were pushed back every day by the relentless alien horde besieging Earth.

Ours was a dour reality that produced rampant depression and burnout among the whole human species. By contrast, Sveta was a cheerful and optimistic girl, who was taking her present circumstances with a joyful vigor I had never seen before. It truly seemed like she was a girl out of time.

It was almost enough to make me believe her story. Almost.

Katya nodded. “I agree. I actually think Sveta’s attitude might have a positive impact on the crew.”

“Really?” I responded incredulously.

“Yeah. How long has it been since we had any hope?” she asked. “If she can inspire even a spark of it in our crew, well. Maybe that’s just another flight of fancy.”

“That might be overly optimistic, Katya.” I said gently.

“Hah, probably.” Her kind smile had returned once more.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen her smile like that… and now, twice in only a few minutes? Could that girl’s energy be infecting her? The sight made my heart, which I had worked hard to clamp down on over my many years of service alongside Katya, start fluttering once again. I wanted to see my precious captain smile like that all the time, and yet I couldn’t make it happen myself. And yet this new upstart AI had somehow managed it in such short order?

Another emotion bubbled up inside me beside my longing. That emotion was jealousy.

As if on cue, alarm klaxons suddenly rang out. I reached out to my sensors and discovered a Sarcophage cruiser had crossed the Absolute Lunar Defense Line. I quickly informed the captain of such, and our personal conversation ended as she rushed to the CIC.

I stayed on the empty room’s screen for a moment longer, once again trying to shove down the feelings inside me. I had a duty to perform, and I could not allow myself to become emotionally compromised. I denied reality with all my might, as I had trained myself to do. Sentimentalism ran counter to my duty as an officer and the ship’s AI. Donning the cold mask of professionalism that had served me so well over the years, I left the captain’s quarters behind and began preparing for battle.

A ship in love with her captain… who had ever heard of such a ridiculous thing?