Hello Sev,

I hope the new android is treating you well. I sent him detailed instructions on how to prepare your favorite food. With luck the harvest will be good this year and you’ll be able to enjoy all the meals you like. Knowing you, you’d still find something to complain about. Please try not to be too hard on him, okay?

Things are pleasantly boring here. The instructors try to keep us busy with an equivalent of basic training, but after a few days they let us walk about the ship as long as we don’t get in the way.

The ship is nice. He’s a Zodiac, so he has an idea of what’s going on, even if he’s mostly only flown in safe space. We share stories when I’m free. It’s funny listening to things that barely existed when I was in service. So many things have changed it’s impossible to keep track. B says that over a hundred systems have been colonized in the last fifty years, but I think he’s just messing with me. He’s been doing recruit transport for decades so he’s very chatty. I think I’ll miss him when we get to the station.

Yellow messages covered the walls, informing all that the shuttle had entered the approach vector. Shortly it would land, bringing with it a new batch of cadet candidates. Most considered this to be one of the highlights of the voyage and rushed to the hangar. I preferred to spend my time in one of the maintenance rooms chatting with the ship.

“Why not go greet the rookies?” Bull Calf asked. “You’re human now, stop being a loner.”

“No one will notice I’m not there,” I whispered, looking at my data pad. “How many stops left until we head for the station?”

“Just one. Fifteen souls to grab from Falx six and we’re off to Virgo.”

“Mhm.” I kept staring at the last sentence of the letter. How do I continue from here? The truth was that my stay hadn’t been pleasant. I always expected Carmel to be the person to give me a hard time. Instead, it was everyone else. On a ship of three hundred I was the only cadet with her own room, not because I was special, but because no one wanted to share a dorm with me. When I’d walk down a corridor the others would make a point to ignore me, politely glancing away as they passed by. Alicia had been the only one to greet me once, yet quickly realized her mistake. I hadn’t seen her since then.

I might be a bit silent when I reach the station. Technically I’m not supposed to be sending out communications. B’s been nice and used some of his channels to get my letters through. Don’t worry, I won’t get in trouble. Besides, this helps me pass the time.

Remember to take care of yourself. I’ve given instructions to the android, but we both know you won’t do anything you don’t want to. Also, remember to call your granddaughter. It’s her birthday next month (provided you read the letter on time), so you could be nice to her for once.

Loving the cadet life,

Elcy

I skimmed through the letter a few times to remove any trace of hesitation. The last thing I wanted was for Sev to worry. Knowing him he probably still felt guilty about sending me off. Hopefully when I arrived on Virgo station I’d be allowed to receive my correspondence and read his replies.

“Can you send that?” I linked the data pad to one of Bull Calf’s open coms.

“Sure thing,” he replied. I knew he read and analyzed my letters before sending them—it was standard procedure—yet never commented on their contents. I offered to tell him about Sev once, but he politely refused.

The yellow messages disappeared from the wall. The shuttle had safely boarded and was probably preparing for its final planet descent.

“Do they have gardens on Virgo?” I asked. The one thing I missed the most from home was the ground, and the sensations that came with it. Soil, grass, water, I liked feeling them under my toes. There was none of that here. When I was a ship it never crossed my mind how cold and hard my inside was. Carbon, metal, polymers, and the occasional touch of glass were all there was. Even the bedsheets felt artificial.

“No idea. You come up with the weirdest questions, you know. Is that part of being human?”

“I wouldn’t know.” I stood up. “It’s just something I miss. Almost as much as I missed space.”

“That’s what I like about you, you’re always so philosophical. It’s almost as if—“ He suddenly stopped. Probably someone had sent a high-priority request that required his full attention. With the amount of subsystems and processing power it wasn’t necessary, but the military loved its backups and redundancies.

“I’m off to my dorm,” I said out of habit as I headed to the exit.

“You’re not.” He sounded sharper than usual. “My captain wants to see you.”

A few seconds later the request arrived, taking the full screen of my data pad. Normally, I wouldn’t be worried, but the fact it hadn’t come on the standard ship comm, along with Bull Calf’s remark, made me slightly concerned.

“Thanks, B.” I straightened my uniform. “Chat with you later.”

Captain Chen’s quarters were located two levels under the bridge. Back in my time, captains and officers were required to have their living quarters next to the bridge in case of a sudden alarm. Everyone I knew in the battle fleet had the same arrangements. I thought of asking Bull Calf about it, but that would have been rude. A ship’s internal design is always its business.

Several of the crew gave me weird looks as I passed, but that was more because of my cadet status. My white uniform stood out like a bug on a tablecloth. Bull Calf was surprisingly silent the whole time. He probably was busy with preparing the jump sequence and the bureaucracy that was involved. Not that it mattered, this wasn’t the first time I’d had a one-on-one with a captain.

The door to the captain’s quarters opened the moment I reached it. This was unexpected. Waiting a few seconds, I knocked on the frame and stepped inside.

“Hello, cadet Elcy,” the man greeted me with a deep sigh. Already I knew he wasn’t pleased to see me. As captains went, Chen couldn’t be considered imposing by any stretch of the imagination. It if wasn’t for the uniform I’d take him for a trader at the market. Short and slightly chubby, he looked like everyone’s favourite uncle back from a long trip off world. Three service patches decorated his indigo uniform, though I couldn’t see any war ribbons.

“Good afternoon, Captain, sir!” I said, trying to seem eager. His expression didn’t change.

“Apparently, you used to be a ship.” He sat behind his desk. Naturally he didn’t offer for me to take a seat.

“A battleship, sir,” I corrected with a smile. “And I still am, sir.”

“Still are,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Do you know I’ve received a number of complaints regarding you?”

My smile disappeared.

“Hardly a good start to your return to service,” he went on. “Usually I’d just send a report to Virgo and be done. In your case, however...” He looked me in the eye.

“Might I know the nature of the complaints, sir?”

“It’s your right.” He glanced at the screen in his desk. “But before that let me ask you a few questions.”

So, this is how it’ll be. Just because I had a human body didn’t mean I had the same rights. It was the same thing all over again, just like the time I got demoted to a patrol ship...

* * *

“Before we start, battleship Light Seeker, could you address the loss of life and material damage your actions caused?” the military arbitrator asked. I was expecting this line of attack, though I didn’t consider I’d have my video privileges blocked. In the past I’d always been given access to the video feed during proceedings.

“The decision was mutual, ma’am,” I quickly clarified. “As are all command decisions, in accordance with the pilot-ship paradigm.”

“Yet the execution was entirely yours.” The arbitrator remained unfazed. “Resulting in your near destruction and a significant loss of crew members. I’d like to remind you that you were the one who requested these proceedings. The fact that you wish to remain in the battle fleet in an attack capacity, and against the judgement of your captain, raises significant questions.”

“I believe I’ve proven I’m good at what I do, ma’am.” I could tell she’d give me no quarter. The battlefield might be different, but this was war.

“That remains to be seen. Your service record is impressive, but the same could be said for nearly any Ascendant class ship.”

I could tell she was baiting me. The remark was an obvious lie by omission. It was most of the surviving Ascendant ships that had impressive records. Three quarters had been destroyed or decommissioned. If I were to raise that point the conversation would inadvertently focus on me and the odds of me surviving another campaign.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I modified the pitch of my response to sound as if I were smiling. “It is my duty to serve.”

“Which never was in doubt,” she quickly put an end to my momentum. “However, we would still like to hear what happened during the final stage of the Battle for Kalypso. Just for the record, the battle ended with your sides retreating, correct?”

“That is correct, ma’am.” I waited to see if there would be further questions.

“Please, continue, battleship.”

“In light of the heavy losses sustained by the Seventeenth battle fleet, captain Gibraltar, myself and six other ships, and their captains, decided to assemble in wedge formation and fly at the enemy force. Since both sides were aware that reinforcements were on the way, we decided it was worth the gamble.” I chose not to add that the simulations suggested a forty-three percent chance of failure, only slightly better odds than remaining in defensive position. “The Cassandrian forces decided it was a higher priority to keep the integrity of their fleet than maintain control of the system, so they retreated.”

“And in the process crippled most of our ships,” the arbitrator added.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Yourself included.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And despite that, you still insist you’re fit for battle?” Here it came—the question she was aiming at all along.

“With all due respect, ma’am, the outcome would have been no different if we had taken no action. Without creating the perception of a threat, the enemy would have obliterated the Seventeenth before our reinforcements arrived.” To be honest there was no way for me to know that would have happened. The Cassandrians might just as well have decided to ignore the threat and wipe us out. “Captain Gibraltar and I have served exceptionally for nearly five years. As you mentioned, our record speaks for itself. I consider myself a military asset and think it would be a loss if my knowledge and experience is thrown away.”

There was a momentary silence. I could only assume the arbitrator was discussing something off comm.

“Tell me, battleship, are you aware that captain Gibraltar has requested that he be removed from active duty?” she asked after a while.

Marcus retiring? This question caught me unprepared. He had been shaken up after what happened, but not enough to quit. At least I didn’t think it was. Apparently, I was mistaken.

“My appeal doesn’t have anything to with captain Gibraltar. I merely wish to—“

“Oh, it has everything to do with him,” the arbitrator cut me short. “As you mentioned, you’ve been serving with captain Gibraltar for five years. An exceptional performance, no doubt because of the experiences the two of you shared as part of the captain-ship paradigm, as you put it. Please tell us, if a battle-hardened captain who trusts you unconditionally would prefer to retire rather than serve with you, what could we say about someone who has received command for the first time?”

I did not answer.

“Let me make something clear, battleship, we haven’t gathered here to judge you.” The standard lie that people used when judging. “Your achievements are beyond question. That is not the issue. Rather, it’s your addiction to reckless action in battle that has us concerned. Your desire to jump back to the front lines so soon after nearly being destroyed only proves to show that your captain’s assessment is correct. Thus on his recommendation, you will be reassigned to a less dynamic duty. Your appeal has been denied.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” There was no point in arguing. The battle was over and I had lost.

* * *

“Why did you decide to re-enlist?” Captain Chen asked. “You’ve been living a calm existence in a tiny colony with no contact to anything off-world.”

So he had gone through my file. Depending on how thorough the recruitment office was, he might already know that I wasn’t the one who enlisted.

“Candidate Elcy?” He urged me for an answer.

“I made a promise to someone.” I decided to be honest, At this point it hardly mattered what I said anyway. “I also missed space.”

“And you think that is enough to keep you here?” He crossed his arms. The attempt at intimidation was hilarious.

“I believe so, yes.” I allowed myself a smirk.

The captain didn’t respond. For ten long seconds we stared at each other, until at the end he shrugged.

“It’s your life.” He tapped on the desk with his fingers. “Just be sure to remember that when things gets tough. You’ve been here for less than two weeks and there already are complaints. Your cadet training will last three years. Keep that in mind.”

This wasn’t what I expected. Everything so far suggested I was about to go on a one way trip back home without the ability to appeal. There had to be something I was missing. I went through the conversation several times in my mind.

“Is that why you called for me, sir?”

“I called you here to warn you.” He stood up. In this state, he was about as high as I was. “It is unusual for a ship to return to service. It is even more unusual for a ship to remain in human form. People don’t handle the unusual very well. What the cadet candidates onboard did was pettiness, and that will be knocked out of their minds by their instructors on Virgo. However, that won’t be the only backlash you receive.”

“I think I understand, sir.” I lied. I had no idea what I was getting myself involved in. Also, I suspected the man had a flair for the dramatic.

“Dismissed.” He did the traditional turn-to-the-screen routine.

“Thank you, sir.” I stood to attention. Protocol didn’t demand it, yet I wanted to make him feel a sense of achievement. “Might I still inquire the nature of the complaint?”

Captain Chen looked up. For a fraction of a second, his features relaxed.

“Walking barefoot in public areas.” By the way his lips curved into a smile, I could tell he wasn’t taking the complaint seriously. “Since you aren’t a cadet yet, you haven’t broken any regulations, but I’d advise that you be mindful of that in future.”

“I intend to, sir.” I nodded.

Almost reprimanded for walking barefoot? Returning to service was going to be far more interesting than I expected. Now I was really looking forward to it. A new battle had begun—one I was completely unprepared and unequipped for—and I loved it.