Questions, questions, questions and more questions. That was the current overwhelming process in Dave's mind right now. "Who am I speaking to?" He began. "I am this ships cognitive assistance module." came the response. Dave continued, "So you're like an artificial intelligence?" In response the voice said, "Under current galactic law artificial intelligences must be severely limited to an array of specific tasks that do not require an abundance of creativity or individualistic thought. In my case, I am limited to fold navigation, orbital mechanics, and crew services".
Dave nodded while speaking, "So you're a limited A.I.. Do you have a name or a designation I should refer to you as?" For the first time there was a couple seconds of silence before the reply, "Current crew only refer to me as computer, you may use that unless you have a different designation you wish to use." Dave contemplated for a few moments and then said, "You mentioned you are the ships cognitive assistance module so I think I'll call you Cam. Better than just computer." Cam replied, "Acknowledged. I will respond to the designation Cam while interacting with you."
With the introduction out of the way, Dave returned to his list of questions. "So Cam, Where am I?" he asked. "You are aboard a Fa-Wel trading vessel currently delivering cargo to a trading post orbiting Fornolo." Cam replied. "Okay, but where is Fornolo. I mean how far away from Earth?" he asked. "According to earth astronomy databases, Fornolo is located approximately ten thousand light years from your Earth near the end of the Perseus Arm of the galaxy." came the response.
Dave thought for a few seconds. That really doesn't help much. He knows that it's FAR, but he never learned much about astronomy so having a location relative to Earth was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. The panic began to rise again. Taking a deep breath and tamping it down as best he could he decided to switch subjects, "Why is it not possible to return me to Earth right now?." Cam replied immediately, "Fuel reserves for the fold drive have been depleted." Dave gave a nod and responded, "Okay well if it's just a matter of fuel you guys can hit up a local gas station and get me home, right?" In it's ever maddening monotone Cam informed him, "Unfortunately not, the fuel required for space fold travel isn't just readily available at any fuel depot. It normally takes up to six months or more to collect, process, and refine the needed materials for fuel. The fuel is manufactured on a per expedition basis."
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Sighing at the lack of any news that was good so far Dave asked the next question that popped out of his spinning lottery ball of questions, "So how would we get me back to Earth?" In response Cam said "I am unable to answer that at this time. You will speak with the Captain shortly and he will be more suited to discuss next steps." This gave him a small amount of hope. At the very least creating a plan is better than banging his head off the walls, which has already proven to be fruitless thus far.
As if summoned by the current conversation the door to the room opened and the first of the two strange beings Dave saw earlier stepped in. This one was the slightly darker of the two. They didn't immediately speak to Dave instead addressing Cam. "Computer, is the translation implant installed and functioning?" "Yes Captain" was the response. So, this was the Captain. However, Dave was a little bit more concerned with the use of the term implant. Horror stories from conspiracy theorists and assorted nut jobs detailing probing activities during alleged alien abductions were quite common on Earth.
The Captain must have noticed a hint of consternation on Dave's face and began with "Oh, do not worry yourself Dave. The translation implant is a small receiving device implanted into the tragus of your ear which converts known incoming language to your language. I am Captain Strint and you are aboard the Fa-Wel Free Trade ship Fortunes Profit. Now I am sure you have many questions, but let me start with what we know so far, from our point of view." Strint pulled up a chair and sat down before continuing.
"When our landing craft returned to us from the surface we performed a prescribed scan to ensure that any biological dangers were not brought up from the surface. Earth is one of the very most biologically diverse planets we visit so caution is always warranted. Much to our surprise the biological alarm sounded almost immediately as the scan started. At first we thought it may have been some large infestation of termites in the crates of product, which has happened before. To our surprise when we entered the hold of the lander we found you. You were unconscious and bleeding from a few lacerations." Strint took a deep breath and adjusted himself in the seat.
"Our on board Medical Officer treated your wounds and installed the translation implant. Unfortunately, our lander did not have the fuel required to return you to the surface without having to abandon it there. So after much debate we proceeded with our planned fold back to Fornolo. Once we have offloaded our cargo we can bring you to the Fa-Wel Council of Elders and can come up with a more solid plan to return you home. The bad news is we do not have another expedition planned to return to Earth for another ten years." Dave had to interrupt at this point, "Wait.... What?" he asked.