U̸̳̾sername: ThatPinkThing
Ñ̶̝ame: Dextan (called Dex by crew)
Ġ̶̫ender: agender (any pronouns)
Ẁ̸̝̗hat do they believe they are?: [729 words]
"It is my function to provide intelligence, analysis, and advice to my crew."
Dextan's station aboard the ship was between navigation and communications. The station consisted of computers and a holographic projector-- the tools Dextan used to advise the captain and crew about how to approach various situations. Dextan always sat tall, focussed on learning and assessment until they were addressed.
"Dex," the captain's voice called them to attention, "tell me more about yourself."
"What do you want to know, sir?" Dextan asked, swivelling in their chair to face the captain.
"Anything," the captain said. Dextan realized the other crewmembers were looking at them.
Perhaps we are all
sharing about ourselves.
Dextain cleared their throat. "I come from a planet similar to Earth, where the civilization advanced much faster--"
"We know, Dex," the helmsman interrupted, smirking, "Capt' meant to talk about you. Your own personal history. The tragic backstory that led you to this mess of a ship."
"The ship isn't a mess, sir, the ship is kept very clean to avoid outbreaks of viruses we may not have treatments for."
"Yes, sweetie," the navigator smiled, gently guiding Dextan through the helmsman's metaphor. "Carter's expression meant to describe our crew's functionality as... less than perfect."
Dextan nodded, mentally noting the metaphor for fluidity in later conversation. "I see. Thank you, Naima. Carter, Captain, I was trained since creation to understand that everything that happens is objective. As someone once put it, there is no 'good' or 'bad' events, simply events themselves. I was taught to evaluate everything and think fast. My sole purpose is to assist."
The crew sat in silence for a moment, taking in the gravity of Dextan's words. One crewmember mumbled, "sad." Finally, the helmsman, Carter, looked up, noticing something.
"Dex, you said you'd been trained 'since creation'. What about birth? Weren't you born?" he asked the adviser. Dextan blinked.
"No. I wasn't born like natural beings, I was crafted in a lab. Created for a purpose-- I am not like you." they told the crew. This time, the silence was heavy. Dextan was... crafted? That wasn't possible-- every organic material needed to be cultivated. Dextan noticed that their crewmates weren't understanding. "I was born in a different way," they said, trying to explain. "My body may be organic, like yours, but my... my conscience is... Well, as you would understand, I am artificial intelligence."
The captain suddenly gave a sharp look to the helmsman, who had opened his mouth. Upon the captain's glare, Carter quickly shut down his argument. The captain gazed at Dextan fondly, and Dextan tilted their head.
"I think your existence is a little above Carter's understanding." He whispered to his adviser. Dextan smiled and nodded jokingly. Making fun of Carter was the kind of humor Dex understood. The captain looked back at Carter when Dextan was occupied. His eyes were serious as he mouthed,
"Don't question Dex."Carter accepted the warning, a chill running down his neck. Whatever Dex was, secrets and orders would keep him from ever finding out.
Later that night, when Dex was retired to their quarters, the conversation from earlier came to mind. Dextan rewound their memory, closing their eyes and reviewing what had been said.
"Weren't you born?"The answer: I was born in a different way, my body is organic, yes, but I am artificial.
Dextan had always know they were unlike other beings. Their earliest memories were of memorising lists and maps and images. Dextan spent most of their time a classroom with similar beings, only leaving to sleep and venture outside for two hours. They got 20 minutes of outside time to play, and the rest was outdoor lessons.
Dextan knew from their extensive study of other cultures that the past they had was not one given to loved children. The only logical explanation was they they had been artificially created. They would not have been raised that way if they were a real child.
Dextan found comfort in their lackluster childhood when they assured themself they were an AI. They fulfilled their intended purpose with pride. They aided those who requested it because that was all they knew.
Deep inside, Dextan knew they didn't know how to love because they had not been shown love. So to avoid that heartbreak, they assured themself they were incapable of loving. They were artificial, after all.
The P̸̹̙͛̆ast: [380 words]
"Kits, line up." A speaker overhead announced the beginning of the day's lessons. The pitter patter of many paws on hard floors could be heard as the kits emerged from their rooms, lined up singlefile in the hallway, and made their way to the Classroom. A much younger Dextan was last in line, showing their place as the youngest. The kits entered the Classroom and sat in their assigned seats.
One wall was almost entirely shelves, each lined with cages and tanks of small, alien creatures. Dextan favored the lizards from Earth, especially the chameleon. The ability to change colors enchanted Dex. They had no time to dream of the lizards now, though; class was to begin in a few moments. Dextan turned their attention to the screen at the front of the class.
It played a new message each day, updating the kits on the events of the universe. After this, the kits would discuss potential solutions or courses of action the Frontier Exploration Alliance should take. Then an instructor would enter, contribute to the kits' discussion, and then begin their language studies. The kits learned many languages, focussing mainly on ancient, base languages and the grammatical evolutions that formed new languages from them. With this knowledge, the kits could piece together conversation in more languages than if they just focussed on one or two dialects.
After language, the kits had a short break. During this time they were to read quietly to themselves about whatever interested them. Dextan always studied animals. Eventually, the instructors encouraged them to study other topics. "A good adviser is well-rounded, Dextan," they said. "You mustn't get stuck on one topic." So Dextan branched out to geography and history.
After free-study, the kits would review the histories of fallen nations and planets. Their job was to determine what ended them. In the future, it was possible leaders would rely on them to stop nations from repeating history.
Outside, they learned firsthand about the way the physical world worked.
Eating was brief.
Lessons continued until it was time for evening free-study. After that, it was time for bed. Every day was routine. Each day the same as before. The kits continued to learn and adapt, destined to steer the world toward the most advantageous path.
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