“Computer. Uh… Personal note.”

“Personal note created. Listening.”

“These are the v— Never mind. Scratch that. Damn. Computer, erase personal note.”

“Personal note erased.”

“Computer, today’s date is… Never mind.”

“...”

“I hate this.”

“Acknowledged.”

“I’m supposed to keep a record, you know. Not the dry stuff, either. The brass wants real, tangible, human reports on what first contact is like. On the status of my crew — which, by the way, I’m doing a much worse job of without Blake — and even my own mental health. Which is fine, thank you for asking.”

“Acknowledged.”

“But I wouldn’t even know how to talk about this. I can be the explorer they needed. That was never an issue. I, apparently, know how to play the diplomat, and I already have a lot of experience being a soldier. Can’t say I’ve missed that, and thankfully there hasn’t been a lot of it. Honestly, being aboard the Sollipsis has been… well, hardly relaxing, but the atmosphere is different. Less posturing. Fewer power plays. More… I don’t want to say genuine. Soldiers are a different kind of genuine. A different kind of people I suppose.”

“...”

“I like my crew. They’re kind, I think. I can’t always tell. You know, what they’re really like. I get caught up in the officiality of it. The admiralty language, the salutes and the uniforms. It’s really hard sometimes to get a feel for what they’re like underneath, you know?”

“Query invalid. Please rephrase the question.”

“Do you know? What they’re like? Can you tell? If I’m supposed to put my heart out on the table for posterity, what am I talking to? Are you an observer? A stenographer? Or do you have thoughts yourself? Sure, AI like you can in theory pass a Turing test, but we managed to do that a hundred years ago. ‘Passes for human’ says less about your intelligence and more about ours, I think. But what do you think?”

“Processing data.”

“I suppose that’s it, yeah. You process data. Well, I suppose I do too, although it’s… different. Not any harder or easier, really. I don’t think we could do each other’s job. Some measure of comfort, at least. Uh, disregard that. Um. Strike it, or something. Why is this so damn hard? I never had any issues writing up reports during the war. Why is that?”

“Report criteria for the Sollipsis mission include but are not limited to personal experiences, emotional investments and psychological self-evaluation. This extends beyond the standard scope of military reports made by Captains.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“...”

“I just wish Blake could help me with these. It’s selfish, I know. Th— she deserves a rest. I’ve given her the week off. She’s going through some things, but she’s got her finger on the pulse better. People trust her. Hell, people like her. People who know about my record either fear, loathe or worship me, which is its own fresh hell, let me tell you, and everyone else just… Captains me. I can’t do much with that. It commands respect, but not much else, but without that respect, the mission would fall apart, so I can’t just go and undermine my own authority. That’s what Blake is for. Especially now. Especially now, you know?”

“Acknowledged.”

“Oh, right, I should outline that. The ship… the Sollipsis… we’re stranded. Sort of. It’s been a long day. Computer, please log the ship’s telemetry data here in the report. Link it, maybe, if that’s possible? I don’t know how they receive this stuff. Whatever, it’s their problem. They want my reports, I’m not going to go through the effort of making them easy to read. Anyway. Ship’s stranded. We’re stranded, and we don’t know why. We don’t, right?”

“Source of engine malfunction unknown.”

“Yeah, that. The ship kind of stranded. Proteus gave us a list of worlds to visit on the way to the Hexapod homeworld. It’s a long trip, and since we use a more direct kind of drive, he had the idea of essentially giving us a tour of planets with Unique Features Our Scientists Might Find Interesting, which, well, he wasn’t wrong. Hasan — sorry, Chief Science Officer Hasan Prakoso — has compiled his own report on the findings, and it makes for fascinating bedside reading. We visited two, one with interesting gravitational anomalies and one with some really interesting mineral formations. There might even be a new element discovered. We’re seeing things I never even thought were possible, and it’s a little tempting to let it all become routine. There’s so much, and it’s almost overwhelming. I can barely imagine how the crew are holding up. The Science Division is requesting members from all other branches to help with various projects, and they’re still understaffed. When we can, we’ll try to increase our staffing. Lord knows we have the space for them. Anyway. What was I saying?”

“The S.S. Sollipsis is stranded on — or rather, above — PT451-2, which is really the snazziest name we could have come up with. Pretty unremarkable system, PT451, all things considered, but the planet is teeming with plant life. Hasan is over the moon. Uh, figuratively. He wants to go down there and pick up samples for his Biology department, and I can’t blame him. The ecology is gorgeous. Everything is reds and purples, according to the drone footage. Point is… the point is that we’re stranded here, and we don’t know why. We lowered ourselves into a stable orbit and as soon as everything was in order, plrrrt, the engines went down. We don’t know why. We don’t know what happened. I feel… annoyed. Powerless. And I’m not the only one. Do you know how hard it is to lead a thousand people?”

“My functions include maintaining the ship’s life support systems, gravitation and biosphere.”

“Don’t be sassy, you know what I mean.”

“...”

“I’m talking to a virtual personal assistant. My mother was right about me. Whatever, she was never really with the times, and if I want to treat you like a person then I will. At least it makes me feel like I’m just not in my office talking to myself. Heh. You’re a good listener, you know that?”

“Acknowledged.”

“Awful at holding up your side of the banter, though. But nobody’s all that good when they’re just getting thrown into the thick of things. How old are you again?”

“The Sollipsis Artificial Intelligence is a combination of legacy code, based on the Artificial Combat Intelligence in use between 2074 and 2075, and unique code written by Devrim Suleiman in 2086 specifically for the Sollipsis mission.”

“The Suleiman from the drive?”

“Negative. There is no known relation between Devrim Suleiman and Hamza Suleiman.”

“Right, of course, silly me. Anyway, so you’re just a few years old, huh?”

“Affirmative.”

“God, I remember when I was a cadet on my first ship. I had my share of… issues to deal with, when I first joined La Royale. Hell of a time. But you pick up on the language quickly enough, I think. We’ll make a sailor out of you yet, computer.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Atta girl. But yeah, this has been a very different time. A lot more peaceful, which I appreciate. Drills still a thing, but if you’re in a tin can with only a few meters of steel between you and explosive decompression, that can’t really be helped. Beds are softer, so that’s nice, although I can’t help but wonder if that’s a Captain’s quarters thing or if everyone has these. They all have to, right? Surely we’ve moved on from military-style cots on most vessels?”

“All sleeping quarter accomodations on board the S.S. Sollipsis. are in line with Admiralty standards.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Good. I’m not comfortable being that kind of Captain. Where was I?”

“You have standing tangents regarding the stranding of the S.S. Sollipsis, your psychological self-evaluation, psychological evaluation of the crew, psychological evaluation of First Officer Blake, current course of the S.S. Sollipsis and your history within the French Interplanetary Navy.”

“Alright, you don’t have to snap at me. I get it. Let’s see, one at a time, yeah? Blake is doing… fine, I hope. I’ll check on her soon. When I find the time. We’ll have time. Blake’s fine. We’ll get there. The crew is doing well enough, I think. I think we’re all still shook up from the visit to the Core World, and I should talk to Riel or Drake about the general ship’s mood. But that’s… going to be handled. I’ll ask Francesca for a report. Or Drake. Whichever. My history with th--  That’s not relevant. My time as a military officer is documented well enough, and yeah, sure, the military reports don’t tell the whole story and maybe one day I’ll write my memoirs or something. Don’t worry, I won’t make you take it all down. God forbid, I don’t want to be responsible for an AI malfunction that flies us into a star or something.”

“...”

“You can just erase those bits. My therapist gets enough out of it as it is. Speaking of: Psychological self-evaluation. I’m doing fine. I hate being cooped up, so I think I’m going to join Hasan on an expedition planetside. He’s picked up some weird readings, and maybe they’ve got something to do with our engines shutting down. And if not, it lets me stretch my legs at least. Honestly, I’m doing alright. I think I might have an easier time of it than some others because I’m so high up the chain, which is a level of privilege I’m so uncomfortable about it physically annoys me. It makes joints hurt. Like, yeah, we met alien species. Alien planets. That’s some intense stuff, and of course it’s had an effect on me. But I met them, and other than like, the giant AI that governs its… uh… his own chunk of the galaxy… what was it…”

“Rep.”

“Thank you. Other than Rep, who is an enigma wrapped in a riddle stuffed into a disk drive, all the other aliens… Proteus especially… they’re just people. Sure, they’re different to a degree I’m having trouble even putting to words, but they’re real people with real lives and anxieties and fears and hopes, and I think I got to see that better than most. On the whole, life seems to have evolved towards cooperation. Community. That’s comforting, in a way. It makes me feel like we fit, like we’re going to fit. So I’m doing pretty good. Other than being locked in here with nowhere to go. But I’m not too worried. The Hexapod homeworld has a timetable of our arrival, at the very least. That was going to be our next destination. More waving, more officious nonsense, but also, hopefully, some more shore leave that lets us see what the galaxy can be like, what we can be like. I’m tentatively excited. Anyway If we don’t show up after a while, I’m sure they’ll come looking for us. I’m not worried we’ll grow old and die here or anything, I’m sure we can get intergalactic roadside service on the phone sooner rather than later. What worries me is what caused this.”

“…”

“Did I miss anything?”

“You have no standing tangents.”

“Good. Good. Wouldn’t want to leave anything out. Was there anything else?”

“You have no standing tangents.”

“I mean in general. About the report. I’m trying to think, what else I need to talk about, what else needs to be in here. I’ve got me, my crew, Blake in specific — speaking of which, computer, at her request, please edit First Officer Blake’s pronouns in all languages to she and her on both official documents, personnel files and in your own memory banks, and give her editing privileges with regards to her first name.”

“Acknowledged. It is counter to Admiralty regulations to allow the changing of personnel files, including names.”

“I said what I said.”

“Acknowledged. Editing privileges granted to First Officer Insert Name Blake.”

“I’ll… have to tell her about that. Anyway. Went over her, went over myself, our current situation… I think that’s everything. Oh, maybe some closing thoughts. Personally… I think things are going well. We’re executing the mission far beyond expected parameters, and with the help of Proteus, we’re advancing scientific knowledge at a rate so far beyond what we imagined, the next several centuries are going to see a second technological singularity. I’m excited, and… anxious.”

“...”

“It’s going to be a lot, and I’m going to put myself and the crew under a lot of stress. But we can’t let up. We’re explorers, and we can’t let something as trivial as progress get in the way. We push on, always. Captain Cathérine Durand of the S.S. Sollipsis, out.”

“...”

“That was a good soundbite, don’t you think?”

“Would you like me to append it as a closing statement?”

“You hate it, don’t you?”

“Query Invalid. Please rephrase the question.”

“You hate it. Computer, erase… all of that. Let’s start again. From the top.”