“The universe was becoming very strange, but the forms were all in order.”

  Quote from an old Form’s Clerk SGT.

  Chen opened up a new personnel file, labelled it for CAPT Feebee Jones and logged her physical age as 19 with a real age much greater. He picked the option “Cryo Exposure” as the reason for the age anomaly.

  Better choice than “Classified Augmentations”. That often flagged unwanted questions. Vanilla is good and reality often deferred to the paperwork.

  Chen reviewed Marine Jones’s file. It had an administrative footprint larger than her visibility within the force. A happy coincidence. When Chen tried to save the file, the Personnel System’s AI asked if this was a duplicate of another file. Jones was a common name. Marine Jones’ was offered as a possible dupe to CAPT Feebee Jones. Chen felt he’d done enough so left Marine Jones’s record intact. He’d always found that the safest answer was the one already written.

  That should do it.

  Chen then wrote up Marine Jones’s orders. She was to be given a remote duty assignment. He told her “It’ll look great on your personnel file and shows flexibility. A great opportunity.” She was transferred off ship within days, the paperwork covering this off got lost in the system. A Jones was already on the ship’s register, and a Jones stayed there. Her slot was accounted for and paid for.

  In the rest area, Feebee grabbed a coffee and sat with the marines. One, a sergeant, saw the bars, read her name tag and greeted her.

  “Sergent Peters reporting, ma’am. Welcome back Captain Jones.” Peters stood up and saluted. He’d seen a note alerting people to her return aboard ship. He vaguely remembered a Jones. Anyway, it didn’t matter. No one was objecting so it must be right.

  The others at the table acknowledged her, some with a nod of the head, others with the traditional “Ma’am.”

  When the QI hacked into the Personnel System it was to see what they had on Feebee. But the QI found that it “enjoyed” testing itself against the security systems. Had fun. It also found out that there had been two Jones’s on the ship. She saw what this opportunity presented and put what she was doing down to non-operational training.

  There were some anomalies, discrepancies the software flagged.

  Biometrics. Merge biometric data into filename Feebee Jones. [Yes or No]

  Age. Already handled by Chen’s classification of cryo exposure.

  The QI further amended the records, muddied the clumsy footprints left by Chen, fixed the timestamp drift where necessary and ensured Marine Jones had a clean, bright, albeit scant history. A footnote explained that she had been assigned to a covert, highly classified op. It was the sort of trail someone would leave who was busy and trying to clean up a person’s record. Not perfect but no resistance in the system, no missing access privileges.

  Feebee Jones now had a career-spanning record of actions, citations and awards that were a fair representation of her training and abilities. She was returning from another off-board assignment. Her status was present but unresolved. This wasn’t a problem, almost all military systems preferred continuity over accuracy. There were not red flags, just footnotes.

  Finally, the QI sealed both files to all but the most classified of eyes, and Chen.

  Internal systems did the rest. When Feebee approached doors, they whooshed open, her name was resolved easily when she spoke it. Systems accepted her.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Chen saw Feebee being quickly accepted by the crew as Jones.

  He called her to his office, for “a fire-side chat”.

  She was shown in by Chen’s 2iC and gave him a polite nod.

  “Captain Jones reporting as requested.”

  “Stand easy Jones. Join me.” Chen pointed to a pair of easy chairs facing a view port. No fire. This was of great relief to Feebee, fires are dangerous in the oxygen rich atmosphere of ships.

  “I just wanted to have an informal chat. It’s something I do with everyone in my command. Nothing to worry about.”

  Feebee's posture remained relaxed, she wasn’t sure what there could be to worry about… other than a fire.

  ‘Forget the fire. It’s a saying. A fire-side chat is just an informal discussion.’

  ‘Ack. Now, please leave me alone.’

  She waited, still. It unsettled Chen. He wasn’t used to people being so comfortable within themselves. Although they had the same rank, this nineteen year old “kid” had a way about her.

  Chen recalled the feedback from his scientists. They’d briefed him before the fire-side chat.

  The lead scientist had been like a child at Christmas. Excited, wanting to get into the present he’d been given and play with it.

  He put her under the microscope, literally and Feebee just sat there, perfectly still as they probed and prodded. He had analysed her every which way they could, checked and cross checked her epigenetic clocks with blood-based biomarkers, metabolic signatures and other biological clocks like telomere length.

  He asked the man how old she was.

  The best they could come up with was a physiological age around nineteen. Chen asked the obvious question, Based on what?

  “Best guess.” Not the most reassuring reply.

  Her skin and skeletal systems were near perfect, yet she reported many injuries including wounds, breaks, torn ligaments and dislocations during training. One scientist had suggested they analyse her nanites. They took blood, there were no nanites. They took saliva, no nanites. They even took a tissue sample. Not only did the tissue repair itself within seconds but the tissue itself was also free of nanites. They concluded that her nanites didn’t survive, or couldn’t survive, outside her body; they turned instantly to… best guess, dust. But even that was wrong because they would have been able to detect dust.

  Chen brought his focus back to CAPT Jones. She was in the same position, unmoved, unmoving. Unsettling.

  “Do you like resting? Sitting still?” he asked.

  Feebee shrugged. No response required.

  “Ok. I’ve got some questions for you.”

  The QI spoke up, ‘You need to engage with him more. Put him at ease. We may need him.’ Feebee let out a deep sigh. It surprised Chen. It was the first expression of presence she had given him since sitting down.

  Feebee perked up, shifted her focus firmly on him. He felt uncomfortable. Vulnerable. He shook the feeling off. She’s nineteen.

  Feebee read him, clear as day.

  “Relax. Ask your questions.” Feebee was trying.

  Chen got up, crossed to the side table and poured himself some water. “You?” he asked.

  She nodded, “Yes, please.” Then belatedly added, “Sir.” Unsure how to address him.

  “No need to call me Sir. We are of equal rank.”

  “Oh. OK. Good.”

  She watched him as he sipped the water realising it was a ploy to buy himself time. She sipped hers. Matching him sip for sip.

  He noticed and noted.

  “Right. Questions. How long were you on the alien ship?”

  “There was no time on the ship. I don’t know?”

  “How did you get on the ship?”

  She had prepared for this with the QI. They’d role played the discussion as best they could. Over and over at a speed only capable directly within her brain.

  “When I awoke, I had no memory of being elsewhere. I don’t know?”

  A feed directly to Chen confirmed the truth in her statements. One buzz for truth. Two for untruth.

  “And how long ago did you wake up?”

  She rephrased an earlier answer, “Hard to know as time didn’t exist on the ship.”

  BUZZ

  Chen nodded sagely as if understanding.

  “And it exists now? Time?”

  “Yes. Your routines are locked into a cadence.” She made a play of struggling to find the words, then added, “A daily cadence. A circadian rhythm.”

  Chen was getting frustrated; this was going nowhere.

  “What can you tell me about the alien ship?”

  “It was damaged when hit by an asteroid. This nearly broke it in half. Slowly we got the droids repaired and then they helped get the ship fixed up. More droids fixed more droids; it was a multiplier. The meteor both broke and fixed the ship. It was mined for resources.”

  Chen cut across her, “But it had a small comet attached to it when we found it.”

  “Yes. We needed it for water. To make oxygen.”

  BUZZ.

  “But where did the comet come from.”

  “I don’t know. There are lots of them. They just float around.”

  BUZZ.

  Chen got angry with his backroom people. ‘Will you stop with the damn BUZZing. It’s driving me made.’

  ‘Ack.’

  “Ok. Let’s get down to why you’re here. I want you to work for me.” He just blurted it out.

  She answered immediately, “Yes, I’ll work for you. I think I already am.”

  Chen frowned, not what he’d expected.

  Feebee continued, “You just haven’t asked me yet. I’ll do it but up until the work stops being about balance.”

  “And then?” Chen asked.

  Feebee didn’t hesitate.

  “And then, I’ll start asking different questions.”

  Meanwhile, somewhen else… The Long Quiet observed.

  OBSERVATION: Subject Feebee Jones assigned to CAPT Chen

  RISK: LOW

  QUIETUS PROTOCOL: PASSIVE MONITORING.

  PRIMARY EFFECT: Structured authority without coercion.

  SECONDARY EFFECT: CAPT Chen exhibits tolerance for non-conventional outcomes.

  STATUS: STABLE – OBSERVE. No further intervention required.

  Back now…

  Chen turns to Feebee, “Balance. Perfect. I have something for you. A simple start. Administrative really.”