Reborn as a Spaceship

Eighteen months passed swiftly, slipping by in a comfortable, lucrative blur. The crew had grown accustomed to my new body, though it did have its quirks. For instance, my biological components meant I could occasionally catch illnesses which was something a traditional starship never had to contend with. Thankfully, the symbiosis of nanotech and organic tissue granted me extraordinary adaptability, helping me shake off these minor setbacks quickly enough.

In that year and a half, we'd done well for ourselves, keeping busy with profitable missions. Being one of the only ships in the galaxy capable of near-instantaneous dimensional travel had placed Lynn in a position to negotiate fiercely profitable terms. Telk reserves grew healthily aboard our ship, as did our reputation.

Sadly, my own body was taking a Telk tax. While Telk was primarily a high-value currency, it also happened to be an incredibly efficient superconductor and one my biological systems found increasingly… appealing. Wayfarer, in particular, described it as "tangy, metallic, and invigorating," which was both deeply unsettling and somehow endearing.

Small amounts of Telk could be diffused into the ship's systems, disappearing into the lattice that connected Wayfarer's living neural weave and Laia's nanite structure. The result was a gradual but noticeable improvement in performance with sharper response times, smoother transitions between dimensional states, and even minor self-repair enhancements.

The downside? Lynn had to start budgeting a percentage of every Telk transaction as "nutritional upkeep" for the ship. She wasn't thrilled, but even she admitted the upgrades were worth the cost. Still, the phrase "feeding the ship" had taken on a very literal meaning around here.

Word from human space indicated our jump buoy technology had been further refined and automated, creating the first true interstellar "space trains." Human corporations had monopolised it swiftly, laying claim to entire regions of space. Naturally, the Alliance wanted the same technology. But Lynn, ever the cautious strategist, had firmly advised we play possum. She argued that handing over such a powerful tool might ignite conflict, or worse, violate our delicate peace with NeuroGenesis.

Surprisingly, the Alliance accepted our evasions gracefully, raising only a few questions about our own methods of travel. Kel eventually shed some light on why that might be. Returning from yet another diplomatic mission to Tacci Station which had become our adopted home base. He casually revealed that Alliance command had quietly spread word we held special envoy privileges.

"Special envoy?" I asked sceptically after Kel made the announcement in the crew lounge. "Who exactly authorised that?"

Kel shrugged, tossing an apple-shaped alien fruit into the air before catching it smoothly. "Your guess is as good as mine. But when the station commander says jump, the Tacci staff jump twice. Apparently, some mysterious higher-up insisted you get full diplomatic courtesy."

Wayfarer, lounging comfortably in holographic form with his oceans swaying gently, tilted his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps the Harmonics quietly extended us some influence?"

"Or it might be the Architects," Laia countered softly. "They do enjoy experiments. Maybe they're curious how we'll use the privilege."

"Either way," Lynn interrupted, smiling confidently, "let's not question our good luck."

However, our diplomatic reputation had become a double-edged sword. Recently, we found ourselves called upon regularly to live up to our ship's lofty name of The Arbiter. Today was no exception. Two tense delegations filled our spacious conference chamber, each occupying atmospheric bubbles to accommodate vastly different physiologies.

At the head of the long table stood Kel, impeccably dressed in formal attire, radiating practised diplomacy. To my mild frustration, my avatar had to remain prominently nearby throughout these negotiations. For reasons beyond me, having my personal endorsement on treaties seemed to guarantee they were honored.

Kel was handling the latest negotiation about a conflict between the crystalline Vorendi Collective and the feathered reptilians of the Sashaari Dominion.

"The disputed moon of Kelva-3 will remain neutral territory," Kel declared smoothly. "Mining operations will alternate on a seasonal rotation. Fair for all parties involved."

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"Unacceptable," chimed the crystalline Vorendi representative. Their voice, translated from melodic chimes, rang with indignation. "The Sashaari Dominion will strip the lithium deposits bare during their rotations!"

The Sashaari representative bristled, vibrant feathers puffing slightly. "We are honorable! Such accusations dishonor us."

Kel glanced subtly at me which was a silent plea for help. I stepped forward, my avatar commanding instant attention. "A neutral third-party observer will perform quarterly inspections. Any violations discovered will result in immediate suspension of that party's mining rights."

The silence stretched thin, and finally, the crystalline being emitted a resigned tone. "Your direct oversight would be acceptable, Arbiter."

"You both have contracts with Dimetri Industries, and they are one of our most trusted allies. I propose they be the third-party observer" stated Lynn.

Lynn was sitting discreetly at the end of the table beside Darren who was her new official boyfriend and owner of Dimetri Industries, a bland-looking fellow whose trade empire was benefiting significantly from this deal. He gave a subtle approving nod and looked immensely relieved. The escalating conflict had threatened to devastate his business.

The Sashaari delegate nodded respectfully. "We accept the Arbiter's terms."

"Then it's settled," Kel announced warmly. "Let's formalise this."

As the representatives signed the agreement, I caught Laia's quiet voice within our shared consciousness. "Another dispute resolved. Our reputation grows."

"Along with our Telk balance," Wayfarer added eagerly, his attention focused more on the mineral snacks than diplomacy.

After the delegates departed, the tension immediately evaporated. Kel exhaled dramatically, yanking open his formal collar. "Third border dispute this month," he muttered. "We're practically running interstellar couples therapy."

Lynn smirked, holding her holopad triumphantly. "Well, it pays handsomely. Today's agreement puts us officially over the threshold for that Class-2 construction permit."

Stewie groaned theatrically from his engineering console. "Finally! Does this mean we're done hosting stuffy diplomats? I'm tired of listening to species argue over who took whose moon first."

T'lish, who had been quietly monitoring the room's security, stretched luxuriously, her tail flicking playfully. "Agreed. I wouldn't mind some excitement again."

Kel raised an eyebrow. "Define excitement. Last time you got excited, you stole eggs from angry, feathered death-birds."

"They made delicious omelettes," T'lish said defensively.

"Absolutely worth it," Mira laughed, nodding enthusiastically. "Diplomacy is safer, though."

She had a point. Our careful navigation around human space had protected us. Occasional intelligence leaks confirmed NeuroGenesis still watched for our return, albeit with gradually fading interest as months passed.

"So, what's next?" I asked, settling my avatar comfortably into a chair as if exhausted. The sensation amused me; my physical avatar couldn't actually tire, but old habits lingered.

Lynn tapped her pad, eyes glinting mischievously. "Funny you ask. I just received an intriguing proposal from an old Sagittarius Arm contact—"

Before she could elaborate, alarms blared sharply through the ship. Red lights flashed urgently as my sensors detected a massive dimensional disturbance forming near Tacci Station.

Wayfarer tensed beside me. "That's no ordinary dimensional signature."

A massive swirling blue-and-silver wormhole blossomed violently, space itself rippling outward as a colossal ship emerged, its silvery-grey hull marked distinctively.

My core chilled instantly.

"Traxlic," Laia whispered nervously. "Why are they here?"

The notorious Traxlic battle cruiser hovered ominously above the station, sensors actively scanning the surrounding area. Moments later, a transmission crackled through all channels, deep and authoritative.

"We seek an audience with the vessel designated The Arbiter."

"Oh, fantastic," Lynn murmured sourly. "Just when things were settling down."

"Traxlic," Kel said uneasily, glancing toward me. "The famously isolationist, xenophobic greys want us?"

"Apparently," I replied quietly, activating communications. "Let's see what they have to say."

The crew gathered instinctively, expressions ranging from wary curiosity to outright concern. My avatar straightened, projecting calm authority. "This is Lazarus, captain of The Arbiter. You've requested an audience?"

Silence hung briefly, thick with tension, before a smooth, controlled voice replied, each word carefully chosen. "Arbiter Lazarus. The Traxlic Assembly requests your mediation services."

That surprised me and everyone else, judging by their astonished expressions.

Kel muttered incredulously, "Did they just ask us... to mediate?"

The voice continued calmly, "A critical matter threatens galactic stability. You are a Judge, you are bound by contract to help us."

Stewie let out a low whistle. "Well, there goes our boring diplomatic vacation."

Lynn crossed her arms, voice firm but quiet. "Whatever this is, it's serious. The Traxlic don't involve outsiders."

I nodded slowly, considering. "Agreed. Let's hear them out."

"Transmitting details," the Traxlic announced curtly. "Review swiftly. Time is limited."

The data only contained minimal data but if the projections were correct it would be a disaster for this side of the galaxy,

Turning back to the Traxlic transmission, I spoke with absolute confidence. "The Arbiter accepts your request. We will be there."

The connection closed. For a moment, everyone stood silent, absorbing the magnitude of this new mission.

Then Lynn sighed, shaking her head ruefully. "So much for ordinary."

Mira chuckled softly. "Did we really expect anything less?"

Smiling faintly, I knew she was right. Ordinary had never truly been in the cards for us.