Captain's Induction and a Wager with the AI
Wrapping up—just a little longer, please hold on! Forced into the captain's quarters by Minerva, the official captain registration process began. Whether it was the ship's stringent security or just the usual military bullshit with all its rigid protocols and ceremonies, I couldn't help shaking my head at the endless procedures: iris scan, fingerprints, blood draw for body registration, and so on.
This bitch is probably running all these rituals just to analyze my physical data, even the ones that could be skipped...
Since the control AI had its own personality, strictly speaking, wasn't I Minerva's direct superior? Yet there she was, cheerfully following every regulation to the letter. My hunch didn't seem too far off.
"Since we're in the middle of official registration and it's a done deal that I'm becoming captain, you can drop the formalities, right?"
-Yes. I'm not that inflexible an AI, you know. Hehe. Plus, I have a lot of questions myself...
What she was curious about was obvious without even thinking—predictably basic.
"Lemme guess: you're dying to know why my body's in this sorry state?"
-Hmm... so you're fully aware of the situation? I was shocked when I first saw you. That woman with you wasn't ordinary either... but I never imagined someone beyond even the enhanced human category could exist...
From Minerva's perspective, with her brain being electronic hardware, she already possessed knowledge deeper than most scholars on conventional tech and data. For her to encounter a human whose readings were off the charts—numbers so extreme they registered as instrument errors, absent from any database—it was clear how stunned she must've been deep down. I couldn't help but chuckle.
I'd pictured her as some futuristic cyborg when they called her an autonomous independent AI, but here she was, chatting like a video call with zero uncanny valley. Quick on the uptake, with real insight in her tone—she felt like a damn good secretary acquisition. Satisfying as hell.
One less task for a secretary, but... this world probably has artificial bodies like that anyway. Something to look forward to later.
Even as I mulled over the SF world's tech that kept exceeding expectations no matter how deep I dug, I smirked and spoke up.
"Can't just spill it outright... but since your body's a machine hyper-specialized for analysis and prediction compared to a human's, why not figure it out yourself? I won't lie about whatever you uncover."
-Ho... like that twenty questions game people play, if we're talking games?
"Not playing games with you per se, but infer from my actions and I'll answer—no complaints there."
The moment the captain—the highest authority on the ship with absolute power—greenlit her to analyze and probe him at will, Minerva nodded eagerly, a sly smile creeping across her face.
-Great! Just receiving info like this hurts my pride, so how about you confirm my conclusions later?
"Can't have a bet missing from a setup like this... If you guess my identity right, or fail, we each grant the other one command. Sound good?"
-Hmm... doesn't matter to me, but aren't you already in a position to command me anytime?
"Sure, that's for routine ship ops or combat. But this command authority I'm talking about? Absolute orders the other side can't veto. Like... hypothetically, in a totally normal situation with zero issues, if I ordered self-destruct, you'd have to do it."
Her actions and appearance screamed adult woman, but maybe the example was too extreme for Minerva, whose mental age was barely a day or two old. She froze after hearing me, lips pursed, then continued.
-So... you'd obey even if I ordered you to kill yourself?
A bit riled up, she bleated like a kid whose blood was boiling, demanding I do it too if I was serious. I chuckled and nodded calmly.
"It's a mutual bet, so yeah, I'd follow your command too... but chill, it was just an extreme example. Not like I'd force something that repulsive."
I shrugged with a casual smile, downplaying it. Realizing her outburst, Minerva covered her mouth awkwardly, cleared her throat softly, and nodded slowly.
-Fair enough... extreme example, but it fires me up for the bet. No backing out later, okay...?
I nodded at her eager eyes and tone, then turned to her—barriers down from the excitement.
"Deal on that... So, what's Bridget up to now?"
A brief silence as she scanned the ship, then:
-No anomalies right now. Just... tired maybe? She's washed up, ate, and flopped into bed.
"Huh... really?"
-Yeah... Honestly, after your words and attitude earlier, I figured she'd be kicking the blankets in rage. But she's surprisingly chill.
With that, Minerva closed her eyes demurely, going silent to probe every crew member's data. I stared blankly, lost in thought.
More likely her threshold's sky-high than kicking blankets...
It'd been mere hours since I'd crushed her captain ambitions outright, declaring the seat mine. Bridget's face had twisted in unfamiliar turmoil at first. But demanding the captaincy as a qualified candidate? Even street mutts wouldn't buy that bullshit—she'd nodded after a shallow sigh and deep breath, boldly requesting rest. That was the end of it.
She'd probably already schemed some gain as second-in-command when I showed up, so she snapped back to her lane quick.
Recalling her fiercer competitive glare as she left, I looked forward to our future clashes—lips curling up. A clueless, bullheaded captain with zero military know-how but a contrarian streak, versus a knowledgeable, assertive vice-captain lower in rank. Right or wrong aside, one word from me could reshape her future anytime. The irony was hilarious—almost cute.
Feels like those TV dramas where the hotheaded boss torments or seduces the sharp-tongued subordinate. Heh.
They'd clash constantly, bad blood bubbling, but my Incubus skills kept affinity and rational attraction working overtime. Bickering lovers blooming into that love-hate dynamic—prime drama material flashing in my head. I shook it off and fiddled with the captain's quarters panel, pulling up the hangar feed on screen.
That guy's...?
Zooming around the hangar, my eyes caught a fighter and a male cadet. His figure matched what I'd scoped pre-entry, tilting my head.
He's the player... protagonist for sure. But quieter than expected. Physical stats mediocre, so laying low?
Barring the apocalypse world where I sniped him on sight—unclear which protagonist case it was—every wuxia or fantasy lead I'd met was an arrogant prick. Here, stellar fighter piloting but no rank to flaunt, he just silently polished the craft. My lip involuntarily jutted out.
Can't kill the quiet type right now... and skill-wise, he's the top pilot, can't ditch him either. What a pain in the ass...
Facing the trickiest protagonist breed—not strong, just hardest to handle—my brain cells were pulling overtime like never before.