Kressa woke up famished. She rolled out of bed, called for the lights, and padded across the room to the closet. After a short search she found a thin blue robe. She shrugged into it and headed for the galley.

  Among the modern appliances, she discovered an old, extremely basic food processor designed to output small, nutrient-rich biscuits. She dialed for three of the hard, tasteless bars and used them to take the edge off her hunger while she prepared something tastier.

  “Connie, what’s our ETA for Arecia?” she asked after locating some pre-packaged meals and popping one in the warmer.

  “Sixty-six hours, seven minutes.”

  “How long did I sleep?” she asked and then added, “Approximately.”

  “Seven hours.”

  She searched through a selection of spices from several different worlds, removed a few that looked intriguing, and tentatively sniffed each one. “Who is Juric Azano?”

  “Juric Azano is an authorized operator,” Connie said.

  “Yeah, I know that. Tell me about him.”

  “Juric Azano was a Sundaran native. He was the original owner of the Conquest.”

  “Is he the person who made all the modifications to the ship?”

  “Yes.”

  “That must have cost him a fortune,” she commented.

  “The original cost estimate for the completed vessel was twenty-five million credits.”

  Kressa choked on the bit of food she was taste-testing. “He spent twenty-five million on a modified freighter? Why didn’t he just buy a yacht?”

  “Who looks twice at a freighter?” Connie said in an unusually casual tone that made Kressa suspect the computer was quoting something it had once heard Azano say. It continued in its normal timbre, “The final cost of the completed vessel with all additions and modifications was twenty-eight million, two hundred forty-three thousand, thirty-nine credits.”

  Kressa gazed around in wonder. She was aboard a ship worth nearly thirty million credits!

  “Where did Azano get that kind of money?” she asked.

  “Inheritance and wise investing.” Again, the computer sounded as if it were quoting someone.

  “He must have been an interesting fellow.” She smiled as she tried to imagine the eccentricities of a man who would spend twenty-eight million credits to build a freighter like the Conquest and crew it with a computer like Connie. “Have you been with—that is, a part of the Conquest since the beginning?”

  “My hardware and basic operating systems were installed as part of the original plan.”

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  “When was that? Approximately.”

  “Initial power-up occurred approximately forty years ago. Over the next several years, Azano made considerable modifications to my behavior and personality algorithms.”

  Kressa carried the meal she’d prepared into the dining room and took a seat at the table. “Where did Azano get the originals?”

  “The system was designed at the request of United Galaxy Patrol Admiral Bertrom Gellig. It was based on research prototypes created prior to the Alliance War. Admiral Gellig came into possession of the plans after the war and ordered the development of a computer to supply opinions regarding specific inputs and scenarios, primarily historical and political.”

  “So, why aren’t there more computers like you?” she asked between bites of food.

  “Apparently Admiral Gellig did not like the opinions offered by my predecessor, and he ordered the original designs destroyed. However, a copy of the system specifications was retained illegally, and Azano was able to buy them.”

  Kressa looked up from her meal. “Is that why the Pattys decided to ban AI?”

  “The ban on autonomous AI systems was initiated prior to the Patrol coming into power,” the computer said.

  So the admirals hadn’t put the ban in place, Kressa thought. Interesting. “What did your predecessor tell Gellig that got him so upset?”

  “Based on the data and political trends of the time, it must have informed Gellig of the eventual conquest of the United Galaxy by the Free Worlds.”

  Kressa started to laugh.

  * * *

  Two days into the hyperspace journey to Arecia, Kressa was relaxing in the Conquest’s lounge, working her way through a bottle of wine from the well-stocked bar, when a realization struck her. Here she was, eating Thorne’s food, drinking his liquor, sleeping in his bed, and she knew almost nothing about him.

  “Connie, tell me about Thorne.”

  “Cameron Thorne was a native of Arkana.”

  “The farming colony?” Kressa asked.

  “Correct.”

  She took a long drink of wine from the bottle. “How did he get the Conquest?”

  “Thorne was Juric Azano’s partner.”

  “Partner in what?”

  “Azano’s travels.”

  “What happened to Azano?” she asked.

  “He was killed during the Arkana rebellion.”

  Kressa set aside the bottle and tried to recall anything she had heard about an uprising on Arkana. “When was that?”

  “Five years ago. Approximately.”

  Kressa smiled. Clearly, Connie had started to adapt her behavior to her newest operator by—

  Kressa furrowed her brow. When had she begun to think of the computer as her? No matter. She returned her attention to the conversation.

  “Five years ago, huh? That was when the United Galaxy tried to take over some of the Free Worlds, right? I didn’t realize Arkana was a Free World.”

  “Arkana is not a Free World,” Connie said, “but many of the Arkanans supported them.”

  “Why was Azano there? How did he die?”

  “Azano and Thorne went to Arkana for the Carver Day celebration. Azano was killed attempting to help Thorne rescue his family during a Patrol raid.”

  “Then Thorne really does have a daughter?” Kressa asked.

  “Thorne had one daughter, Teresa.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Cameron Thorne’s family was killed during the raid.”