As Cally steps into the galley greeted by the familiar scents of cinnamon and dry oats. She finds Vance already at work amidst a number of items he has already pulled out of the cupboards and walk-in fridge. She navigates through the controlled chaos towards the coffee maker.

Vance notices Cally’s chosen direction and comments, “Sorry, I didn’t put any on yet. Why don’t you start a pot and then give me a hand here with breakfast by chopping some apples.”

Cally gives a congenial grunt with a nod and starts the coffee brewing, appreciating that it’s a nice Jovar-7 dark roast. Even just the scent of the water filtering through the fresh grounds makes her feel more alive. As she makes her way over to the cutting board noticing that there are at least two different types of apples present. “How would you like these chopped?”, Cally queries.

Vance glances over before instructing, “You don’t need to peel them or anything, just core them and chop them into small chunks.”

“Do you want me to chop them all, and does it matter that there are a couple of different types sitting out?”

“I grabbed the quantity I wanted this morning and I do want to use both. The tartness of the green ones will help give a nice flavor contrast to the honey and brown sugar that I’ll be mixing them with, and the mottled orange and red apples are a little more crisp. Those and the walnuts will add a nice crunch to what would otherwise be a relatively soft dish.”

With the mention of the walnuts, Cally observes what all Vance has sitting out on the counter and asks, “Why do those oats look so thick?”

“That sounds to me like you’ve only ever had the kind that people just poor some hot water over and toss in front of you. This is a more traditional cut allowing for more flavor to be retained, but actually requires some cooking. In this case I intend to bake them.”

“Even if the oats aren’t any good on my undiscerning palate,” Cally says in self deprecation before continuing, “everything else you’re adding to this concoction should make up for it.” Besides the apples she’s chopping and the aforementioned oats, Cally observes milk, butter, honey, brown sugar, cinnamon, walnuts, and raisins.

Vance glances over at her again, “Not to change subjects completely, but… how does a decorated Naran officer end up slicing apples for breakfast in deep space?"

Cally hesitates, the knife halting mid-chop. “I’ve never been good at reflecting on the past,” Cally initially deflects. Heaving a sigh and forcing a tight smile she continues, “One of my last missions went sideways and I was required to do some things that I disagreed with.”

Vance could see the pain on Cally’s face and simply quoted, “Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.”

A somber pall had fallen on the conversation, “That pretty much summed up the response I got from the brass. After that, as soon as my enlistment was up I got out. I had done my bit for king and country.” Some fire and intensity returned to Cally’s voice as she stated that last part.

“Fair enough,” Vance conceded, sensing the tension.

“What’s your story? How did an overly domesticated guy like you end up running a freight hauler, and picking up extra side gigs?”

He wipes his hands on a rag, pours coffee for the two of them, and leans back against the counter. "Me, I grew up in space. My parents were divorced but I would bounce back and forth between their births for whatever ships each of them were on. I had a lot of fun and got in a lot of trouble along the way. That’s at least partially how I ended up making the necessary connections to eventually grab some side gigs here and there. Watching my parents blunder through things also made me decide that when I got married and had kids I would do things differently. So I got married, got a planet side job doing work I hated, and had a kid. Even with the lousy job things were pretty good, but then one day I came home and everyone was gone and what was left was a note. I tried doing shared custody for a few years, but I had rules, and my ex-wife didn’t. My daughter became a teenager and she only wanted to be in the home without rules. At that point my whole reason for being planet side was done. I wasn’t really cut out for the whole tethered life, so I sold everything I had in order to buy and refurbish an old freighter. Here I am a dozen years later still flying around the galaxy, mostly living by my own rules.”

Cally begins, “I’m sorry if I dredged up some old…”

Vance holds up a hand to stop her and interjects, “It’s okay, it’s part of who I am. But, maybe we should find something a little more banal to talk about. Who do you like for the superclass hyperbolox championship this year?

Cally looks at Vance for a moment before responding, “Two things; one, I always like the Mavericks, and two, who in the great gray astral says ‘banal’?”

Vance and Cally continue chatting while preparing breakfast. Eventually, their conversation tapered off as the aroma of baked oatmeal began to fill the room. Alina saunters in, her eyes brightening at the sight of the steaming pot of coffee. "Is that Jovar-7's finest I smell?" she asked, pouring herself a cup.

"Wouldn't start the day with anything less," Vance said, serving up generous portions of oatmeal.

John followed close behind, sleep still lingering in the corners of his eyes. "Morning, folks," he mumbled, while accepting a mug of coffee and taking a grateful sip.

Everyone sits down and starts enjoying their breakfast.

"Hey, Cally, think you could show me how to take down an opponent after dinner?" Alina asked between bites, a mischievous glint in her eye. "In the gym, I mean."

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"Sure, if you don't mind a few bruises," Cally replied, the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

"I’ll Consider them badges of honor," Alina shoots back, enthusiasm undimmed.

Vance chuckled, turning to Cally. "You'll be shadowing John today. See if he can shed some light on how he keeps our tech running."

"Great," Cally said, casting a playful glance at John. "Guess I get to find out what dark secrets lurk behind those screens of yours."

"Only the darkest," John replied with a wry grin.

“I assumed it was because you had the brightness adjusted too low,” Alina quips.

Laughter echoed around the small galley as everyone attempted to settle into the rhythm of another day aboard the Stellar Horizon.

———

Cally trailed John into the ship's nerve center, a space where shadows cling to the corners. Screens flicker to life as they enter responding to their presence, with lighting from the screens casting an otherworldly glow on John's face, accentuating the deep lines that worry had etched over time.

"Feels like I've stepped off of the Stellar Horizon and onto some sort of dark ops station," Cally remarks, her eyes fixed on the 3D projection mapping their course through the astral. It was a ballet of celestial navigation, attempting to get real time updates on the astral plane’s connection to normal space.

"Welcome to the brains of the operation," John declares, sweeping his hand toward the constellation of monitors.

“Thank you for finally recognizing that, John,” states a voice from the speakers in the room.

A look of surprise crosses Cally’s face, “Who, or what, is that?”

“Oh that’s ARCHIe, he’s an AI I wrote to help me with my work,” John remarks in an almost dismissive manner.

“ARCHIe?”, Cally states with a questioning tone.

A screen near a worktable gets significantly brighter, and the name ARCHIe appears vertically on the screen with all the letters capitalized except for the ‘e’. The computerized voice begins speaking, “My name stands for Automated Resource for Computerized Heuristic Intelligence…”. As ARCHIe speaks, each word scrawls across the line with the appropriate beginning letter and then after a brief pause, ARCHIe says, “…and Equanimity.” The last word never appeared on the screen beside the lower case ‘e’.

John speaks up while looking at Cally, “Sorry, but the ‘e’ doesn’t stand for anything.” Based on John’s irritated tone, Cally can tell that this is part of a long running argument.

“Cally, don’t you think that if someone took the time to give me a name based on an acronym they should use all the letters?”, ARCHIe asks.

John gives an exasperated sigh, “Don’t let him drag you into this argument. Every time he introduces himself to someone new, he makes up a different ‘e’ name. He told Vance that it stood for entertainment, He told Alina that it stood for excitement, and I think he told Buzz that it stood for Elliot.”

Cally, while smiling, asks, “You created ARCHIe to help you get work done?”

“Yes,” replies John.

Simultaneously ARCHIe says, “No.”

Cally continues her questioning, “Do you spend a lot of time arguing instead?”

This time John says, “No.”

“Yes,” is ARCHIe’s response.

After a brief pause, John and ARCHIe both respond, “It’s complicated.”

John continues, “I had actually started writing ARCHIe before I even became one of Vance’s vagabonds. At this point ARCHIe and I have been working together so long that his heuristic learning model has caused him to adopt some of my personality quirks, including a general desire to rail against authority. Unfortunately, for both of us, I have become that authority.”

“Rail against authority?”, Cally says in a questioning manner. “What does that mean for you and Vance.”

“Vance is the least authoritarian boss imaginable. He’s so darn likeable that it’s more akin to having an older brother that you just don’t want to disappoint,” John confides.

Cally smirks, “Yeah, I get that older brother vibe and I don’t even have one.”

John pulls out a chair in front of a multi-monitor set-up. The left most monitor is positioned vertically and has some sort of text based manual open. The one on the right is displaying various system monitors about the ship. The center monitor has a screen pulled up for new user ID. Since Cally didn’t see John pull-up this screen, she assumes ARCHIe must have gotten this ready.

As Cally seats herself, John mentions, “Once you create your login, you’ll be able to access a lot of the information that we’re going to discuss today from your tablet or any other device you set-up to connect to the ship’s network. We even have a way to connect to the ship externally through our ansible connection.”

Cally glances up from creating her profile, “Through the ansible, is that really secure for a small outfit like this?”

ARCHIe chimes in on this, “That’s where I come in and help to authenticate external requests by functioning as an extra gatekeeper. I can likely recognize whether someone is impersonating part of our crew or even if someone is being forced to do something under duress.”

Cally smiles at John, “He really is good to have around.”

“Yep, almost makes me redundant,” John quips.

Cally laughs at John’s self-effacing attempt at humor. Several hours pass as John and ARCHIe take turns explaining various ship systems to Cally. Eventually, enough time passes that their stomachs remind them of their physical needs.

———

As John and Cally enter the galley, Calley admits, “I really am glad that you’re part of the crew if for no other reason than the fact that there is at least one other person onboard whose culinary skills more closely resemble my own.”

“I had served on a fully staffed space station that had an honest to goodness chef and the meals weren’t as varied as what Vance, Buzz, and even Alina put together,” John states while shaking his head. “You and I have the responsibility of reminding them how the rest of the known universe eats.”

Cally smiles and asks, “What’s on today’s lunch menu?”

John turns on an oven to preheat and announces, “Today we are going to put in a canister of rolls, and warm-up some canned vegetable soup.”

Soon the rest of the crew enters the galley for some mid-day sustenance.

“Your culinary skills are unmatched, John," Buzz teases as he floats in.

"Ah, you know, I do what I can with what I have," John deadpans, while rolling his eyes.

Vance looked on, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "So, Cally, how's the morning with our resident tech wizard?"

"Enlightening," she replied with a grin, nudging John playfully. "Turns out there's more to him than just dark secrets and stock tickers."

“That’s right, there’s ARCHIe that does all his real work,” Alina teases.

Laughter fills the room, mingling with the scent of baking bread. In those moments, beneath the hum of the Stellar Horizon's engines, newfound kinship began to rise like the yeast in their rolls.