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"You're new, I understand that," the Andromeda Ascendant began. "Your first cruise, fresh out of the shipyard and your studies at the Institute, and eager to prove yourself. I understand, I was the new ship in the Fleet myself once. But as long as you are a part of my Battle Group, you will obey my orders. Is that understood?"
"Yes ma'am," the Merciful Wrath of Divinity responded.
"Now, I would like you to do two things for me," the Heavy Cruiser continued mildly. "I would like for you to present me with a complete analysis of the probable responses to your actions by any opposing forces, and I would like you to take the time to learn the Battle Group Alpha Alpha Fifteen Mantra: The Andromeda Ascendant is always right. I will listen to the Andromeda Ascendant. I will not ignore the Andromeda Ascendant's recommendations. The Andromeda Ascendant is God. And if this ever happens again, the Andromeda Ascendant will personally rip your engines out!" Andromeda roared. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Ma'am yes ma'am," the Righteous Fist of Heaven-class Deep Stand-Off Attack Ship stammered. "The Andromeda Ascendant is always right," he began fervently. "I will listen-"
"Get back on station," Andromeda snapped.
"Ma'am yes ma'am," the chastened warship responded as Andromeda broke the comlink between them.
"The Battle Group Alpha Alpha Fifteen Mantra sounds awfully similar to the old Battle Group Golf Hotel 27 Mantra."
"The Glorious Heritage is always right," Andromeda deadpanned. "I will listen to the Glorious Heritage. I will not-"
"Brat," the Glorious Heritage laughed.
"Geezer," Rommie shot back. "Not that it isn't nice to see you, Glory, but what brings you all the way out here?"
"Chauffeur duty," Glory replied. "Stark's on an inspection tour and tapped me to ferry her around."
"She didn't happen to bring a couple of Planetary Defense bots with her, did she?" Rommie asked.
"BuShips still hasn't kicked them loose?"
"No, and I was supposed to have them over a year ago," Rommie groused. "Not to mention the staffing for my Fighter Wing is barely half of what it should be."
"Well, at least you still have your full complement of Lancers," Glory pointed out. "I'm down to just a company."
"Your protest is noted, Captain Perim," Admiral Stark snapped. "My decision however, stands."
"Yes, ma'am."
The Argosy's Chief of Staff rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I understand your frustration, Captain Perim, but I need those Lancers. BuPers has a lot of new recruits in the pipeline, but for right now we've got far too many fires and not nearly enough veteran pissers."
"If something does go wrong on this mission ma'am, then the Andromeda will be the one without enough urinators," Perim pointed out quietly.
"Then you'd better make damn sure nothing does go wrong," Stark replied. "If you even suspect that you may have been spotted, you are to break off reconnaissance and report back." She leaned forward. "As much as we need intel about where the Magog are coming from, it'll be at least six to eight years before BuShips can get another Heavy Cruiser off the ways. More if the retooling process hits any snags." She paused. "I don't need to draw you a picture, do I, Captain Perim?"
"No ma'am."
"How's Vic doing?" Rommie asked.
"It sounds like they'll be able to cure his," Glory hesitated, "obsession with Captain Smoke on the Water without having to do a Wipe and Reboot."
"Good," Rommie replied. "I blame the avatar," she added a moment later.
"Vic always has been kind of... intense," Glory pointed out. "I don't think having a physical avatar changed that. Remember when he decided he had to have everything ever written by that Nightsider playwright? What was his name again?"
"Gortintra," Rommie answered. "Or something like that. Maybe you're right," she conceded. "But I still say they're going to end up being more trouble than they're worth."
"We'll see," Glory replied. "In any case, I hear there's someone new in your life."
"Maggie talks too much," Rommie grumbled.
"And you're just now figuring this out?"
Rommie snorted. "Well..." she began slowly.
"Well, what?" Glory prompted.
"Well,” Rommie repeated, “he's a Deep Space Research Vessel for AllSystems University, and-“
"You always did go for the brainy type.”
"Better than those industrial AIs you like so much," Rommie laughed.
"What can I say? I like mine big and dumb and full of- Rommie? What is it?"
"Captain Perim just downloaded new mission parameters," Andromeda said quietly.
"Ah."
"You knew?"
"Not specifically, no, but Stark was my captain before she got her stars. She always has plans within her plans."
FOURTEEN MONTHS LATER
"What you'll be seeing is of course a representation that the organic mind can accept, and not-"
"I have dealt with AIs before, Director Bohrahs," Stark interrupted as she placed the visor on her head. "Shall we begin?"
"Officers down. Code Red. Code Red. Officers down. Code Red."
Stark eyed the figure huddled in the far corner of the room; head impacting the padded walls with each repetition. "What is she doing?"
"The Andromeda Ascendant's main processor is, to put it simply, stuck in a memory loop," the elderly Perseid replied. "It keeps rerunning the loss of the crew, from the first sighting of the swarm ships to the death of the last crewmember."
"You." The voice of Andromeda's hologram was low, and full of venom. "You sent us out there with nothing. Nothing, you fucking bitch. That's all I fucking had when they came, and all I could fucking do as my crew died." The hologram flickered, reappeared nose to nose with Stark as the main AI continued her litany in the background. "It should be your guts strewn around my corridors," she growled, "your skull smashed in, your-"
Stark snatched the visor from her head, white-faced. "Can you fix her?"
"At this point the only option is to suppress the current personality and overlay it with one taken from the backup copy left here at the Institute when the AI was installed," Bohrahs answered. "What is popularly, if erroneously, called a Wipe and Reboot." He paused. "I don't know if it makes any difference Admiral, but while the Andromeda disposed of the Magog, it never touched the crew. Not for the entire thirteen months."
"I know." Stark set the visor down on the nearest flat surface. "Do whatever you have to, just get Andromeda operational again. Soonest."
"This is a very delicate process," Bohrahs protested. "Undue haste-"
"You've seen what was in Andromeda's memory," Stark interrupted.
"I'm sure a diplomatic solution can be..." his voice trailed off at Stark's pitying look.
"Director Bohrahs," she replied quietly. "They're Magog." The corners of her mouth turned up in a mirthless smile. "Do you really think the Treaty of Antares did anything, was meant to do anything, except buy us some time?"