“Hey,” Alicia said from the doorway.

“Hey.” I nodded back, placing my sandals on the nightstand. Alicia remained silent. I could feel the awkwardness in the air. “You okay with the lower bunk? I like looking at the ceiling.”

“I...” Alicia glanced at the bunk space, then back at me. “Sure.” She stepped in and went to the free closet.

Twenty minutes ago she had been among those calling me out for being a ship. Carmel had been the initiator, but Alicia had done everything possible to illustrate her support. I had heard her whisper that she pitied my future roommates. Quite ironic that that roommate had turned out to be her. Apparently, station policy dictated that cadets were grouped based on gender and recruitment center.

“Is it what you expected?” I put my datapad in my pocket.

“Hm?”

“Space,” I clarified. “You told me you were wondering what it’d be like.”

“Oh.” She looked away. “Yes.” I could tell she was lying.

“Good.” So much for trying to get things back to normal. “I’ll be going through medical. See you when I’m done.”

“But we already passed our medical?” I sensed a spark of curiosity.

“My medical.” I walked into the corridor.

My medical is slightly different.

* * *

“Can you hear any instructions?” a voice blasted in my head. I could make out that it was male, but it sounded somewhat distorted.

Everything was black, as if I’d lost all my visual feeds. My immediate reaction was to make my subroutines start a diagnostic. Then I remembered I had no subroutines. All my auxiliary and support systems, my weapons, my external and internal sensors, all my biotech power cores were gone. I was left only with my thoughts.

“Can you hear any instructions?” the voice repeated, louder than before.

Yes. I tried to perform a general system check. The fleet medical engineers had been very explicit what would happen once I acquired a human body; they had even given me feeds of previous cases. Experiencing it personally, however, was different. I wanted to check if they hadn’t forgotten something. They hadn’t.

“Can you feel any sensations?” A new question entered my head.

My sensors aren’t functional yet. The experience was strange. Neither are my motor functions.

“Try not to do anything.” The voice was much clearer now, as if someone had adjusted the sound filters. “We just need to make some minor adjustments. Nothing to worry about.”

I’m not worried. From what I remembered, there had been only three cases of ships not surviving the procedure, all during the time of the early experiments. The details remained classified beyond top secret, but rumors were abundant.

“You’ll start feeling in a few moments. Let us know if it gets too much, okay?”

I will.

The med engineers had gone out of their way to give me weeks of feeds before I had gone through the procedure. Hours upon hours of simulations showing me what it would be like to walk, talk, and feel like a human. Of course, those were only simulations. I had no idea what it would be like to feel. When I was a battleship, the sensors throughout my body would send me a constant flow of data informing me of every nanofiber of my hardware, from the outer hull to the super processors. Hundreds of software subsystems would filter, pack, and buffer the data. As a human, I expected it would be dramatically different.

The first thing I felt was coolness. It surrounded me on all sides, more prevalent in some spots than others. It reminded me of vacuum, but softer, almost diluted.

“Anything?” the man asked.

Some chill. And some hardness. Both uneven.

“That’s good. You’re lying on the slab. Do you feel the fabric?”

No. Fabric. It had never crossed my mind I’d be able to feel that.

“You’ll get used to it. Just try not to overload yourself.”

Overload myself?

“Some ships try to experiment more than they should. It’s a whole new ball of wax now. You don’t get a dock refit each time you break something. You get one free refit and that’s it, so don’t go walking on fire.”

I’ll try to remember that. A feeling of softness appeared. Almost unnoticeable at first it quickly grew until I could identify its location on me. I think I feel the fabric

“So far, perfect. Ready for the next step?”

It’s a bit strange talking to someone who has no name. I could hear a slight noise in the background—a sort of cross between static and running water.

“Sorry about that. I’m just the adaptation officer. You’ll see your doctors soon. They’ll tell you all the important stuff.” There was more static. “I’m just here to make sure you make it through the door.”

I’d still like to know your name. This was the first time I’d had to ask about someone’s identity. Back in my old body I could send info queries light years away.

“Amesh,” the man said. “No relation to the general.”

I’m Elcy. It would have been rude to say that I had no idea who “the general” was. So far I had seen the records of several people with a first name Amesh. In the grand scope of things, none of them were significant. Right now I felt he was, though—the very first person to welcome me to humanity.

“In a moment you’ll have motor functions,” he said. “That will be accompanied with increased sensations. None of them should be unpleasant, but I want you to be prepared.”

Okay.

“You’ve been equipped with auxiliary cores so you shouldn’t have a problem moving your new body, but to be sure I’d like you to do some tests.”

I’m still not getting any visuals.

“That’s normal. For the moment I’d just like you to say something to me.”

Such as?

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you use your mouth. You’ll still keep your transmission channel, but all communication will be through your mouth. Okay?”

“Okay,” I spoke for the first time. It felt natural, yet extremely weird. My voice sounded very different from what I expected. I had been given the option to choose it before the procedure, one of the many things I had been allowed if I had bothered to give the procedure any thought. At the time it seemed like a pointless task. I just wanted to be done with this as soon as possible and fulfill the promise to my captain... and her son. As it seemed, I had gotten my wish, though I could have chosen a somewhat more mature voice.

“Good. Now I’ll take your hand. When you feel my skin, I don’t want you to do anything, understand? I’ll just pull you up, no need to react or assist.”

“I’m a battleship, I doubt you could damage me.” I laughed. It felt nice.

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” I felt something grab hold of part of me and give me a tug. My body followed naturally. As it did, the sensation of hardness beneath me shifted. A few moments later I could only feel it on two spots in a different part of my body.

“Gravity has shifted,” I noted.

“The gravity is the same.” He let go of me. “It’s your balance. Your body is used to it, yet you aren’t. The doctors will explain all this in a bit.”

“You keep saying that.” A sudden burst of warmth enveloped me, like the radiation of a star. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Does what happen?”

“You helping ships get through their reboot?”

“I’ve seen a few.” His voices was coming from my right. “Usually up to three per year. You’re one of the quiet ones.”

“I’m a battleship.” I smirked.

“Battleships love to talk.” I heard him sigh. “Okay, now I’ll ask you to open your eyes. Remember, don’t overreact.”

“I promise.” For some reason I was feeling anxious. “Have there been incidents in the past?”

“No, but I know how big the change can be.” Amesh went silent. His words made me think. In the past ten hours I had shrunk in size a thousand times—give or take—and gotten an appearance. As a ship I never cared what I looked like. Every few years I’d go to the allocated stardocks and get retrofitted, sooner if I suffered severe combat damage. As a human, I had no idea what I’d be going through. “Now. Open your eyes.”

Light and colours hit my mind, almost making me lose balance. It wasn’t the amount or intensity, but the focus lag that took me off guard. For seconds I stared at blurry blobs of shapelessness until a picture gradually took form. White walls, cold lights, beeping sounds...

“Where am I?” I asked. “Everything seems familiar.”

“Sickbay,” Amesh replied. He seemed much taller than I expected. “Your sickbay.”

“It feels weird.” I went to the wall and slid my fingers along it.

“I can imagine. All your subroutines are intact, so once you’re off they’ll refit your husk with a new mind fresh from the farms.”

“Just like that?”

“You expected you’ll take your husk with you?” He gave me a surprised look.

“No.” I had hoped my former self would be disassembled and destroyed to be honest. That’s what used to happen in the past. Apparently times had changed the last five years. “So I just take walk onto the dockyard? That’s it?”

“Almost.” A video feed covered the entire wall in front of me. “Take a few moments to admire your new self before you go.”

* * *

“Do you feel this?” The doctor pressed the tip of the needle into my shoulder.

“I’m not numb, ma’am.” The sensation rushed along my nerves to indicate significant discomfort. “I feel pain, just perceive it differently.”

“Only making sure that your alarm bells are still working.” The doctor laughed. She had a deep laughter that suited her body the same as a roar suited a bear. A few decades ago she must have been all muscle, yet age and high gravity had gradually transformed it into blubber. “Have you been having any weird nightmares, fits of rage, anxiety, or panic attacks?”

“I have perfect memory, doctor. Not flashbacks.”

“Good for you.” She put a micro scanner on my neck. “Stop breathing.” I felt something sharp pierce my skin. “Okay, now get dressed.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The second examination was much shorter than the initial one on the station, but far less pleasant. Based on what I had read in the consent form, I was required to go through such checks every six standard months. Most likely I could expect each next time to be as uncomfortable as this one.

“Will that be all, ma’am?” I asked as I starts putting on my clothes.

“For the moment.” The doctor had started filling in her report. “Check your schedule, then tell the corresponding instructors that you’ll be ready for attendance.”

I paused, my shirt half on.

“Is there something the matter, cadet Elcy?” The doctor raised her gaze.

“Does that mean I’ll be going through basic training, ma’am?”

“I know. It’s a pain, but everyone has to go through it. Even I had to.”

“But I’m a battleship, ma’am. The recruitment officer told me that I’d go straight to advanced simulations or early deployment.”

“Did he?” She crossed her arms. “Isn’t life full of nasty surprises? Recruitment has no authority to make any such promises. You go through basic training as everyone else. And that includes standard combat training. If and when your instructors feel you’re skilled enough to skip a grade, they’ll tell me. Until then you’re just another waste of space.”

I smiled and finished putting my shirt on. Clearly I was getting no special treatment. To them, I was just another rookie. The fact that I had decades of combat experience didn’t count for anything. An expected turn of events I had hoped to avoid.

“Have many battleships gone through here, ma’am?” I asked, pulling up my trousers.

“Nope. You are definitely the first.” The doctor’s face twisted in a smile. “And I hope for your sake that you make the cut.”