The Hobgoblin Riot

Prologue.
“Jesus, it’s beautiful,” Smallthunder said. The first mate of The Hibiscus stood watch, sipping coffee out of a paper cup. The blue and green planet of Arcadia swirled on the view screen.
Science Officer Conestoga studied the readouts of the probe. The planet looked almost identical to Earth, only with the continents and water all jumbled up. And without that filthy brown streak in the upper atmosphere, she thought. The screen flashed, numbers populating the analysis. She sighed with relief. It all checked out. Green across the board. It was beautiful. She looked up from the report to see the entire bridge watching her.
She was supposed to report only to Captain Barnes, but he was currently asleep.
“How’s it looking?” Wallis asked, peering over his shoulder at Conestoga. The engineer knew the Captain’s order just as well as she did. She caught the eyes of the XO who gave her the slightest nod.
She smiled at Wallis and gave him a thumbs up. The bridge broke out in applause.
“Commander, when are we waking up the main science team?” Wallis asked.
“In five days,” Smallthunder said. The large man made a show of rubbing his eyes as if something was in them. The man had been out of stasis for almost two weeks now, and Conestoga didn’t think he’d slept once the entire time. He certainly hadn’t slept last night. She’d woken up next to him, and he’d been sitting up in his bunk, staring out the porthole. He hadn’t even acknowledged her as she gathered her items and fled back to her quarters. The man was a machine. They’d said he’d been a marine before joining the navy, taking part in the lunar skirmishes with China.
She’d slept with him twice now. The first time had been about 6,000 years ago, during their fifth, three-day rotation. The second time was last night. He was oddly emotionless, bordering on robotic. It was only during the throes of passion where he showed any emotion at all. He’d, absurdly, told her he’d loved her last night. She’d fallen asleep in his arms while he stroked her hair. When she awakened several hours later, it was as if it had never happened.
“Sir, I’m receiving a message precursor from home base,” the communications officer said. “ETA, seven minutes.”
“It’s about time,” Smallthunder said. “Alice, Gemma, please authenticate.”
Conestoga wanted to learn earth’s fate just as much as anybody else, but she was almost afraid to know. They either pulled through or they didn’t. She was almost more afraid to hear that everything had turned out fine, that the entire trip to save humanity had been for nothing. Humans were alive and well and thriving.
Alice’s soothing voice came over the speaker. “The message is authenticated. Message sent three years ago, 22 days post departure. Decoding now. Six minutes and 28 seconds until it is ready.”
“Confirmed,” Gemma said. Gemma—the tactical AI—had a more commanding voice, louder than Alice. Conestoga startled at the sound.
LPE Daniels entered the cockpit, carrying a tablet. He worriedly showed some numbers to Smallthunder. Conestoga had only known the wormy propulsion engineer for a grand total of a month—albeit a month spread over many thousand years worth of three-day shifts—and she did not like him at all. The man was continually worrying or complaining about something. He spent the rest of his energy creeping on the female crewmates, Conestoga included.
Last night at chow he’d whined for an hour straight about how he’d been stuck as a blackjack dealer in the game. No one was sympathetic. Conestoga had been a chimney sweep for the alchemist’s guild. Captain Barnes had been a barmaid at a brothel. Not everyone could luck out like Wallis had. He’d been on an airship crew. His cycle had been almost three years. He’d actually enjoyed his time in the game.
Smallthunder looked up at the ceiling. “Alice, why aren’t we making the correction now?”
Alice seemed exasperated. While the other two ship AIs—Waldo and Gemma—both retained their no-nonsense, emotionless attitude, Alice—the primary systems and navigation AI—seemed to have developed an actual personality over the course of the voyage.