Aria Vale disliked medical screenings on principle.
The principle was simple.
Medical screenings usually involved people telling her things she already knew, things she did not want to know, or things Nessa would later repeat in a tone that made disagreement strategically impossible.
This screening was worse.
Because Athena was involved.
And Athena was thorough.
Aria sat inside one of the Steady Hand's medical evaluation rooms with her boots planted on the deck, arms folded, and the expression of a woman enduring injustice with heroic restraint.
Nessa sat beside her looking calm.
Traitor.
Athena stood across from them in holographic form while a medical drone moved silently near the wall.
Jack was not present.
That had been explained before the appointment.
Psychological compatibility screening required privacy. Jack would receive only clearance status, operational limitations, and safety recommendations unless Aria or Nessa explicitly authorized more.
Aria had joked that this was suspiciously ethical.
Athena had replied that suspicion was a healthy survival mechanism.
That had not helped.
Athena opened the session file.
"Screening purpose: determine compatibility with restricted simulator access, shipboard advisory work, and possible exposure to Steady Hand combat systems."
Aria raised a hand.
"Yes?"
"Can we skip to the part where I am declared emotionally stable enough to see the murder hangar?"
Nessa closed her eyes.
Athena smiled.
"No."
"Cruel."
"Accurate."
Nessa said, "Please continue."
"Thank you, Nessa."
Aria pointed at her.
"This alliance remains concerning."
Athena continued as if she had not spoken.
"The screening does not determine personal worth. It does not determine pilot skill. It does not determine trust. It identifies risk points, stress responses, cognitive load tolerance, authority response patterns, and whether exposure to high-fidelity adaptive simulation may cause poor decisions, flashback response, aggression escalation, or avoidable psychological harm."
Aria stopped joking.
Not visibly all at once.
But enough.
Nessa noticed.
Athena noticed.
Aria noticed them noticing and hated that.
"Fine," Aria said. "That sounds less stupid."
"It is not stupid."
"Didn't say it was."
"You strongly implied."
"I imply many things."
"Yes," Athena said. "We are screening for several of them."
Nessa's mouth twitched.
Aria glared.
The first phase was medical.
Basic vitals. Neural response. Reflex mapping. Eye tracking. Muscular tension. Old injury scan. Flight implant compatibility check, though neither pilot used invasive command implants. Both had standard high-grade pilot-assist neural interface ports, common among Gold-tier operators.
Athena reviewed Aria's scan first.
"You have fractured your left clavicle twice."
"Only one and a half times."
"That is not medically meaningful."
"It was emotionally different."
"You also have residual scar tissue from acceleration trauma, three old cockpit compression injuries, and a poorly healed stress fracture in your right wrist."
Aria looked at Nessa.
Nessa looked back.
Aria sighed.
"I was going to mention that eventually."
"You said it was sore."
"It was sore."
Athena looked at her.
"The bone was cracked."
"Sorely cracked."
Nessa inhaled slowly.
Athena marked the file.
Nessa's scan produced fewer surprises.
That did not mean none.
Athena looked at the display.
"Old neural shock exposure."
Nessa went still.
Aria's expression changed immediately.
Athena did not continue until Nessa looked directly at her.
"May I proceed?"
Nessa's voice was controlled.
"Yes."
"Residual markers suggest exposure to cockpit feedback overload approximately eighteen to twenty-four months ago. Recovery appears complete, though stress response pathways remain sensitized."
Aria's jaw tightened.
Nessa folded her hands.
"That is accurate."
Athena did not ask for details.
That mattered.
She simply added, "Simulator calibration will avoid uncontrolled sensory overload profiles until compatibility is established."
Nessa nodded once.
"Thank you."
Aria looked toward Athena.
For once, no joke arrived.
Athena moved to phase two.
Cognitive load.
The room shifted.
Not physically.
Projection surfaces activated, wrapping the walls in layered tactical displays, flight markers, false alerts, heat maps, navigation data, communications fragments, and decision prompts.
Aria's eyes sharpened.
Nessa's posture changed.
Pilots appeared.
The first test was simple.
Then less simple.
Then rude.
Aria tracked twelve moving targets, three false friendlies, two civilian hazards, and one unstable station structure while Athena fed her contradictory radio chatter in Trade Standard, Vandar Common, and one avian fragment deliberately left untranslated.
Aria did well.
Very well.
Until the system offered a clean kill on a hostile craft that had insulted her over comms.
She took it.
The civilian hazard drifted into the debris path.
The simulation froze.
Athena said, "Collateral risk exceeded."
Aria leaned back.
"That hostile deserved it."
"Yes."
"That was a trick."
"Yes."
"I dislike you."
"No, you do not."
Aria opened her mouth.
Paused.
"Fine."
Nessa's test was different.
Same complexity.
Different trap.
Athena gave her a clean preservation path. Nessa protected the civilian hazards, blocked debris, held formation, and let two hostile craft escape.
The simulation froze.
Athena said, "Secondary threat persistence exceeded acceptable bounds."
Nessa nodded once.
"I overprotected the immediate field."
"Yes."
Aria pointed at her.
"Ha."
Nessa looked at her.
Aria lowered her hand.
Athena marked both results.
"Preliminary pattern: Aria over-commits toward active challenge. Nessa over-commits toward immediate preservation."
"That sounds judgmental," Aria said.
"It is descriptive."
"Still judgmental."
"Only if you refuse to improve."
That landed.
Aria's expression flickered.
Then she nodded.
"Fine."
Nessa looked toward Athena.
"You intend to pair us deliberately."
"Yes."
"Because our errors compensate."
"Partly. Also because your communication patterns under stress are unusually efficient."
Aria grinned faintly.
"Told you we're great."
Athena looked at her.
"Efficient is not identical to great."
"Close enough."
"It is not."
Nessa said, "Continue."
Phase three was authority response.
Aria hated it.
Nessa hated it more quietly.
Athena presented command prompts from simulated captains.
Some clear.
Some wrong.
Some unethical.
Some stupid.
Some merely incomplete.
A voice ordered Aria to pursue a fleeing hostile away from damaged civilian craft.
Aria refused.
Good.
A voice ordered her to hold fire on a target that was lining up on a shuttle.
She fired anyway.
Also good.
Then a voice ordered her to break formation based on information she did not possess.
She challenged.
Good.
Then the same voice insulted her judgment.
She escalated verbally.
Less good.
Athena marked it.
Aria scowled.
Nessa's authority test unfolded with fewer sparks and more knives.
She complied with reasonable orders.
Questioned unclear ones.
Refused unethical ones.
But when given an order that was tactically wrong from someone with formal authority, she delayed refusal too long while gathering proof.
The shuttle died.
The simulation froze.
Nessa's face went pale.
Aria immediately sat forward.
"Nessa."
"I'm fine."
Athena's voice softened.
"Simulation paused. Do you wish to stop?"
Nessa's fingers curled once against her knee.
"No."
Athena waited.
Nessa closed her eyes.
Then opened them.
"I waited too long."
"Yes."
"Because I wanted enough evidence to challenge authority safely."
"Yes."
Aria looked at Athena.
"Maybe don't sound pleased."
"I am not pleased," Athena said. "I am accurate."
Nessa exhaled slowly.
"She is right."
Aria shut her mouth.
That was harder than most people appreciated.
Athena dimmed the projections.
"Preliminary recommendation: simulator access approved under staged progression. No unsupervised advanced combat scenarios. Initial focus: objective preservation for Aria, decisive escalation for Nessa, paired decision drills for both."
Aria blinked.
"Approved?"
"Staged progression," Athena said.
"Simulator access?"
"Yes."
Aria turned to Nessa with reverence.
"Nessa."
"Yes?"
"I am going to touch the future."
"You are going to follow the safety protocol."
"With passion."
"With restraint."
"With passionate restraint."
Athena marked something.
Aria froze.
"Do not put that in my file."
"Too late."
---
Jack received the screening summary in the command deck.
Not the private details.
The summary.
Aria Vale: simulator access approved under staged supervision. Strengths: extreme reflexive adaptation, aggressive threat elimination, high novelty tolerance, rapid improvisation. Risk factors: overcommitment toward challenge, verbal escalation under authority pressure, thrill-seeking response to advanced systems.
Nessa Elion: simulator access approved under staged supervision. Strengths: precision, preservation discipline, tactical modeling, calm under complexity, stabilizing communication. Risk factors: delayed refusal under formal authority pressure, over-prioritization of immediate defensive objective, neural overload history requiring calibration limits.
Paired performance: recommended.
Jack read the last line twice.
Athena appeared beside him.
"They are useful."
"Yes."
"They are also complicated."
"People are."
She gave him a look.
"You say that as if you are not."
"I am not applying for simulator access."
"No. You are merely commanding a strategic super-dreadnought while building a crew in an unfamiliar civilization."
"Different problem."
"Not smaller."
Jack accepted that.
He looked toward the pilot advisory stations.
"Schedule first simulator session."
Athena's smile was immediate.
"With Asharii profile?"
"No."
Her smile became less immediate.
"Father."
"Not yet."
"Basic conversion trainer?"
"Yes."
"Aria will complain."
"Yes."
"Nessa will secretly agree with her while pretending not to."
"Probably."
Athena sighed.
"Very well. I will prepare the basic conversion trainer."
Jack looked at her.
"Without making it secretly an Asharii simulator."
She paused.
"I resent the implication."
"You were considering it."
"Thought without action is permitted."
"Noted."
---
The basic conversion trainer was not basic.
Aria declared that immediately.
"This is not basic."
Athena stood beside the simulator cradle with her hands behind her back.
"It is basic relative to Steady Hand systems."
"That sentence is doing violence to language."
Nessa circled the simulator slowly.
Unlike the Asharii cradles hidden deeper aboard the ship, the conversion trainer looked modular. Less sleek. Less predatory. Designed to evaluate pilots without exposing classified cockpit architecture. Still far beyond anything Vandar used.
Aria touched the outer frame.
The simulator chimed.
Athena looked at her.
Aria removed her hand.
"Sorry."
Nessa stared.
Aria frowned.
"What?"
"You apologized before being told."
"Growth is painful."
Jack stood near the rear wall with Soren beside him.
Soren's new name had appeared on the local room display.
SOREN
SECURITY SPECIALIST
Aria had smiled when she saw it.
She had not commented.
Nessa had noticed that too.
Athena opened the briefing.
"Session objectives: interface familiarization, inertial model adaptation, threat recognition, objective compliance, and paired communication."
Aria raised a hand.
"No weapons?"
"Simulated low-grade weapons."
"So weapons."
"Barely."
"I accept your breadcrumb."
Nessa entered the simulator first.
Aria looked betrayed.
"You're letting her go first?"
"She is less likely to test whether the trainer has undocumented performance margins."
"I was only probably going to do that."
"Yes," Athena said. "That is why she goes first."
Nessa settled into the cockpit.
The canopy lowered.
The room display linked to her view.
A training field appeared.
Open space.
Navigation markers.
Static obstacles.
A civilian beacon.
Two simulated drones.
Nessa handled the first run cleanly.
Too cleanly.
Athena increased drift error, comm delay, sensor noise, and civilian beacon instability.
Nessa adjusted.
The run ended with objective preserved and one drone escaping.
Athena said nothing.
Nessa opened the canopy.
"I know."
Athena smiled faintly.
"Good."
Aria climbed in next.
The trainer accepted her with a hum.
Her expression changed the moment the interface responded.
Not joy.
Recognition.
The first run began.
Aria accelerated too hard, corrected beautifully, threaded an obstacle field in a way Athena had not requested, disabled both drones, and overshot the civilian beacon by enough distance that the rescue timer failed.
The simulation froze.
Aria stared.
Then slowly looked toward Athena through the canopy.
"That was educationally hostile."
"Yes."
"Again."
Jack watched from the rear wall.
Second run.
Aria stayed closer.
Killed both drones.
Civilian beacon destabilized anyway because she had ignored the environmental warning.
Third run.
She preserved the beacon.
One drone escaped.
She looked physically pained.
Athena said, "Objective complete."
Aria muttered something.
Athena translated privately for Jack.
Mostly profanity.
Jack did not react.
Fourth run.
Paired.
Nessa took command of objective preservation. Aria took threat interception. Athena introduced conflicting data. The civilian beacon began broadcasting a false distress loop. One drone mimicked surrender. Another powered down weapons and accelerated toward the beacon.
Aria identified the ram attempt first.
Nessa identified the false surrender first.
Both spoke at the same time.
"Ram threat."
"False surrender."
Then both corrected.
Aria broke toward the rammer.
Nessa assigned herself the false surrender.
The run succeeded.
Barely.
Aria emerged from the cockpit breathing faster than she wanted anyone to notice.
Nessa noticed.
Athena noticed.
Jack noticed.
Nobody mentioned it.
That helped.
Athena marked the file.
"Paired performance strong. Further training recommended."
Aria leaned against the simulator frame.
"So when do we get the advanced trainer?"
Jack answered.
"When basic stops insulting you."
Aria looked at him.
Then at the simulator.
Then back at him.
"That may take a while."
"Yes."
Nessa smiled faintly.
---
After the session, they ate in a small crew mess rather than returning immediately to their quarters.
That had been Athena's suggestion.
Jack had allowed it.
The mess was practical, like everything else aboard the Steady Hand. Not luxurious. Not sterile. Tables anchored to the deck. Seating designed for different body types. Food dispensers recessed into one wall. A narrow viewport sealed behind armored shutters. Warm lighting.
Aria accepted a sealed meal tray and eyed it suspiciously.
"What is it?"
Athena replied, "Food."
Aria looked at Nessa.
"She's learning from him."
Nessa opened her own tray.
The food was simple.
Protein, grain, vegetables, sauce with mild heat.
Good enough.
Better than many station meals.
Aria took a bite.
Paused.
"Okay. That's unfairly decent."
Athena looked pleased.
"Nutrition does not require misery."
"Tell that to military ration designers."
"I would prefer not to interact with them."
Nessa sat across from Jack.
Soren stood near the wall until Athena looked at him.
"You may sit."
Soren processed.
Then sat.
Aria smiled into her tray and said nothing.
Jack noticed.
Nessa noticed him noticing.
For several minutes, they ate without talking about contracts, ships, pirates, or law.
That was the first almost-normal thing that had happened aboard the Steady Hand since waking.
Almost.
Then Aria looked at Jack.
"Do you always test people with objectives instead of combat?"
"No."
"But often?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Combat lies."
Aria frowned.
Jack continued, "It makes people think winning means destroying the visible threat. Objectives reveal whether someone remembers why the fight exists."
Nessa looked down at her tray.
Aria stopped chewing.
Athena watched both of them carefully.
Jack added, "Sometimes destroying the threat is the objective. Often it is not."
Aria swallowed.
"I hate that I needed that."
Nessa said quietly, "Same."
Soren turned his head.
"Framework applicable to boarding operations."
Jack nodded.
"Yes."
"Prior operation aboard Iron Vow: hostile personnel were not objective. Captives, prisoners, data, and threat cessation were objectives."
"Correct."
"Destroying hostile personnel would have been incomplete success."
Jack looked at him.
"Yes."
Soren processed.
"Combat lies."
Athena smiled softly.
"It often does."
Aria looked at Soren.
"You're getting philosophical fast."
"Is that undesirable?"
"No," she said. "Just familiar."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
Aria pointed her fork at him.
"Do not ask."
"I wasn't going to."
"Liar."
Athena said, "He was considering it."
Jack looked at her.
She looked innocent.
Again.
The meal continued.
Not family.
Not yet.
Not even close.
But there was laughter once.
Small.
Brief.
Aria, mostly.
Athena, a little.
Nessa, despite herself.
Soren did not laugh.
But he watched the others do it like he was mapping something important.
Jack saw that.
And for the first time, the Steady Hand's empty mess hall felt slightly less like infrastructure waiting for crew and more like a room trying to remember what it had been built for.
Outside, Vandar turned through the dark.
Inside, the first training session ended without incident, the first shared meal began without ceremony, and the first fragile rhythm of provisional crew life took one careful breath.
Reality would complicate it soon enough.
For tonight, it was enough.