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ANNIE looked in the mirror. ANNIE stared back. She looked so normal. Like any girl. Or no - like a specific girl - one she’d never met, but who’d donated her genetic material nonetheless.
“Angela,” she said to the mirror. “Angela Sarfire. I’m you. I’m your clone.”
But she wasn’t Angela, of course. She was ANNIE. Artificial Nanoconstructed Neurally Independent Entity. But still. She could feel Angela inside her - it gave her something of a thrill. They shared the same cells, the same memories, though their lives had diverged, of course from the point at which Angela’s genetic material had been harvested.
There was a knock at the door, and ANNIE smoothed down the lines of her jumpsuit nervously one last time.
“Your patron is here,” came the clipped robotic voice of Dr. Rochel. “Please make your way to the reception lounge presently for the review.”
ANNIE remembered how nervous she’d been - how nervous Angela had been, rather - when she’d gone for her crew profile interview, before she’d been assigned to a Fleet ship. ANNIE didn’t know where she - Angela - had wound up after that, but the standard biosample she’d given had eventually been given to Nanodev, and out of all the potential candidates, somehow, her DNA had been sponsored to create ANNIE. And now, she was about to meet the man behind that sponsorship.
He was a tall man, with dark hair going grey at the temples - it made ANNIE wonder about aging, and how her nanoconstructed body would handle it. Would she get old? Or would she forever be the younger, prettier version of her original? Would Angela hate her for that? She tried to shake off the morbid thoughts, focusing again on her patron. He wore a Fleet uniform as well, his jacket hanging open roguishly to match his smile. The four braids on his cuffs denoted his rank, and ANNIE addressed him accordingly.
“Hello Captain.”
“That’s Captain Allonius.” The captain was appraising her too, and shook his head. “You really do look just like her. Do you have a name yet?”
“They call me ANNIE. Artificial Nanoconstructed-”
“-Neurally Independent Entity. I know. Well we can’t have you saying it like that all the time. Try it like this: Annie.”
“Annie.” The word sounded softer when she wasn’t trying to say it like it was an acronym. It sounded more like a name. Having her own name took her a step further away from Angela, though, and that hurt. But Angela would never cry in front of a captain - she wasn’t a space elf, afterall. She was an officer. And Annie could still be like her, even if she wasn’t her.
“Nice to meet you, Captain Allonius.” She tried a smile instead. “I’m Annie.”
“What you are,” the captain said, smiling back and clapping her on the shoulder, “Is the newest member of the crew of the Ghost Soup, Infidel Class Fleetship.
ANNIE - no, *Annie* -’s eye widened. “A crewmember? Me?” She stopped herself from adding that she was just a clone. Of course Captain Allonius knew that, if he’d sponsored her.
“That’s right. We have a very important and dangerous mission, and we’re going to need you.” He paused, and looked her straight in the eye. He’d dropped all his roguishness, and she could tell how serious he was. “Angela is going to need you.”
“A-Angela?” He couldn’t mean it. She felt faint, excited and terrified at once.
“Angela Sarfire,” he confirmed. “The one... but not the only. She’s going to need your help, and she doesn’t even know it yet. Do you think you can handle that?”
“Of course captain.” She gave him a determined salute. It was only logical, after all. Helping Angela was practically like helping herself.