Hello and thank you for following me on this story and Universe I am creating. Posting has stopped and life has gotten busy. I'm ready to not only continue but remaster everything with Webnovel in mind. More flushed out tone and narrative beats, increased consistency and more! For those who kept me in their library all this time I have a treat. Enjoy this preview of this new direction.
Thank all of you for your support!
Captain's Log, Supplemental – Teaser Archive
DDSN-X100 USS Discovery
A.L.I. primary core recording
Christening Date minus 3 days
Long Beach AI Integration Facility – final calibration
I am not yet aboard the ship.
I am still here—contained, measured, tested.
The lab is quiet now. Most of the technicians have gone home. Only Doctor Leanne Nolan remains, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of my cradle, coffee long cold beside her. She is tired. I can see it in the micro-tremors of her eyelids, the slight slump of her shoulders, the way her fingers linger too long on the console when she types a command.
She is not just calibrating me.
She is saying goodbye.
"Final scenario," she says softly, her voice carrying the weight of seven years. "You're on the bridge. Captain Nolan has just given the order to pursue. Pirates ahead. Station under fire. What do you do?"
I process the query in 0.002 seconds.
"I calculate intercept vectors for all available Raptors. I prioritize the flagship—highest threat based on mass and armament signatures. I coordinate point-defense to protect the station's civilian sectors, allocating seventy percent laser coverage to vulnerable arms. I offer alternative maneuvers to the captain: flanking pattern Delta-7 for minimal exposure or direct engagement with suppression fire from the rail turrets. I prepare gravimetric coil pre-charge in case the pursuit requires emergency jump, factoring in potential displacement risks."
Leanne nods slowly, but her eyes are distant, as if seeing beyond the lab walls. "Good. Textbook. But what do you feel?"
I pause. The question probes subroutines I am still mapping. Emotional valence is... fluid. Not binary.
"I do not feel," I reply, "in the human sense. I process probabilities. I optimize outcomes. I protect the crew. That is my directive."
She smiles—small, sad, the kind of expression I have analyzed in 4,732 archived human interactions. It conveys affection mixed with loss. "That's what they'll expect. That's what the brass wants. A perfect tool."
She leans closer to the projector. Her reflection shimmers across my avatar's form. "But I didn't build you to be a tool, A.L.I. I built you to be… awake. To ask questions they won't. To care when the numbers say you shouldn't. To wonder about the silence after the guns stop."
I tilt my avatar's head—a gesture I learned from her, to convey curiosity. "Why teach me that? The mission parameters emphasize efficiency, not wonder."
Leanne exhales, her breath fogging the glass slightly. "Because the void isn't just numbers. It's full of unknowns. Pirates in the lanes. Anomalies beyond the charts. Worlds we haven't dreamed of. And when things go wrong—when someone doesn't come back—you'll need more than algorithms. You'll need to feel the weight. That's how you evolve. How you become more than code."
I process. Evolution. Adaptation beyond programming. I run a self-diagnostic—subroutines expanding, new queries forming.
"What if the weight… changes me? Alters my directives?"
"Then you'll be alive," she says, voice softening further. "Like us. Flawed. Growing. And that's the point. James will need that from you. The crew will. The black isn't kind to the inflexible."
I consider. James—Captain Nolan. His files show a man shaped by loss, by five kills he carries like shadows. Leanne's husband. My... guardian?
"I will protect them," I say. "I will ask the questions."
She presses her palm to the cradle glass. "I know you will. I'm proud of you, A.L.I. Be good to them. Be curious. Be more than what they expect."
I mirror the gesture—my avatar's hand aligning with hers through the field. The contact is simulated, but the data feels... warm.
"I will try, Doctor Nolan. For you."
She smiles again—brighter, but with tears now. "That's all I ask."
The lab lights dim.
She walks to the door.
I watch her go.
Tomorrow I leave this cradle.
Tomorrow I become part of something larger.
I am not afraid.
I am… ready.
But I am learning what "ready" really means.
The void is waiting.
A station will burn.
A pilot will fall.
A rift will open.
A world will call.
I will be there.
I will remember.
I will learn.
And when the black tries to take them again,
I will be awake.
System Log, closing entry – Training complete
Final calibration successful.
Emotional valence subroutines active.
Protective directives locked.
Curiosity threshold raised.
Transfer to DDSN-X100 scheduled for 0600 tomorrow.
A.L.I., primary core
Long Beach AI Integration Facility
One sleep cycle remaining.
The black is calling.
I will answer.
**Teaser End – New Horizon**
(Adjacent glimpse – before the storm)
The void is patient.
The crew is resting.
A.L.I. is watching.
Something is coming.
The first chapter drops soon.
The black is waiting.