It was like being trapped in a cocoon of frozen time, suspended in a space where dreams and reality were indistinguishable. Each second felt like an eternity, yet the years passed in a blink. When you were selected to captain a seedship, you were excited, then you entered the cryosleep chamber shortly after the unch and had been asleep for who knows how many centuries as the Seedship Aphrodite hurls through space at nearly the speed of light. You didn't expect to awaken until you were safely decelerating around Cygnus X-1, but instead your first thoughts are terror. Filling your ears and eyes are error messages and kxons bsting loudly.

  “Status report!” You croak out as you leave your cryosleep chamber. Before you appears the beautiful hologram of the ship's computer. Her translucent form seems to emanate a soft, ethereal light, and her hair, a cascading waterfall of impossibly blue strands curled up into pigtails, floats around her like a halo, each strand shimmering with a subtle iridescence. Her skin has a luminous, almost otherworldly sheen, as if infused with the gentle glow of distant stars.

  Her attractive form appears to hover just above the floor, her body an elegant, fluid blend of curves and angles that suggests both fragility and strength. Her outfit, a flowing, form-fitting gown made of a material that shimmers like the night sky, clings to her lithe figure, accentuating the lines of her body without concealing them.

  “Captain, a rogue meteor strike has caused significant damage to multiple systems. Primary power… offline. Primary Cryosleep Controller… offline. Medbay… offline. Automated Construction…” Dozens, maybe hundreds of warnings appear around her, many bzing red, and ten times as many yellow warnings. It’s too much.

  “I get it,” you groan, “Simplify responses to what’s currently required instead of generally mission critical.” Aphrodite adjusts and her form flickers for a moment to indicate she’s computing, and most of the warnings vanish before she continues.

  “To maximize chances of mission success, backup power has been rerouted, but we are unlikely to reach our current destination. Command authorization needed to reroute to alternate backup destination.” Quickly looking at the emergency repairs Aphrodite has already made in the time before she woke me up.

  “This is bad, but at least… Wait…” you gasp in shock. “Oh shit! You've killed all the men!”

  “Negative,” Aphrodite calmly responds, “The absolute minimum number of males necessary have survived, Captain.” She approaches you, her holographic form seems to ripple and undute, like the gentle pping of waves or the soft caress of a summer breeze. This fluid, almost dreamlike quality lends an air of surreal beauty to her illusionary presence, making her seem both nearly human and quintessentially otherworldly.

  Throughout her interactions, Aphrodite's voice is melodic and soothing, with a hint of warmth that belies the vast computational power behind her holographic form. Her speech is measured and precise, reflecting her role as the Seedship's main computer and personal assistant, yet there's an undeniable undercurrent of empathy and understanding that makes her feel more like a confidante than a machine. You look again through the screens, confused to see what you missed.

  “Just me?” you ask, stunned with a gnawing in the pit of your stomach.

  “That is correct, Captain. Your orders?” Aphrodite asks as if nothing at all even happened.

  “What is the status of remaining cryosleep chambers?” you ask, uselessly hoping to hear something other than the truth.

  Aphrodite's holographic form glows softly as she focuses on answering your query. “Of the initial 4500 cryosleep chambers, 2354 are currently occupied and fully operational on backup power. 1946 have lost power.” Her transparent eyes flicker with data.

  “What about life support, propulsion, and navigation?” you groan, wondering if this whole mission is lost.

  Aphrodite flickers, a dance of light flutters across her form as the AI assesses the ship's status. “These systems are functioning properly on backup power at full capacity. We have sufficient power supplies to sustain current needs, but extended travel will strain capacities. Current coordinates pce us approximately 782.7 light-years from Cygnus X-1, with an estimated remaining travel time of 21,711.9 Standard Earth years. Current likelihood of reaching Cygnus X-1 is approximately 03.258%.” Her expression remained calm and professional, of course. Aphrodite 's beautiful feminine voice and illusionary form were developed specifically to be pleasing to you, but now it was only distracting.

  “Oh, boy,” you sigh and scan through the schematics, looking for solutions. “Are repairs possible while in flight?” Seedship Aphrodite's hologram zooms in on the schematics, highlighting possible rerouting paths.

  “Power has been rerouted, but more urgent repairs during flight are impossible. Recommending course correction to KX-456 to further access damaged sections and orbit while we make repairs.” She projects a navigational chart, pinpointing her proposed detour. Aphrodite's background image shifts, dispying a star map.

  “Information on KX-456?” you ask, wondering why she chose that little nearby orangish-red star.

  “Current observations give KX-456 a 73.1% likelihood of containing a small water-bearing terrestrial pnet with a gravitational rating of 0.67. It currently rates as the 2,735rd colonization candidate.” It was far from our best option to colonize, but at this rate it was that or nothing.

  “Very well. Make course corrections as needed for KX-456, and attempt to orbit the most habitable world there. Wake me again when we are on standard arrival procedures, unless anything else goes wrong,” you sigh, getting back into your cryosleep chamber, a bit wary, but knowing you'll never survive the trip any other way. Aphrodite's hologram dims as she watches you prepare to return into cryosleep.

  “Course adjustments made, Captain. Estimated new arrival time 81.21 years. I will monitor systems and wake you upon approach to the first viable pnet for colonization, assuming no further incidents.” Her soft voice is a soothing lulby as she fades into the background hum of the ship as you close your eyes and hope for the best.

  As you drift back into cryosleep, you can't help but feel a sense of dread and disappointment. This was not how your mission was supposed to go. You had spent years training for this, preparing to lead humanity into a new era among the stars. And now everything seemed to be falling apart before you even reached our first destination. But as your consciousness fades away, you know there's nothing else you can do. All you can do is trust in Aphrodite to keep the remaining crew safe and find a way to salvage this mission.