The first step in the process involved a party. Typically that would be the final step, but the ISGC had elected to make it the first. World leaders involved in the operation were invited, as were the crew of the Patriot and Bridge Crew of the Pioneer. The Bridge of the Pioneer had already been chosen and were halfway through training.

    Roughly two weeks after accepting the offer, I arrived to the convention center in Houston. Security patted every pocket thoroughly, but found nothing besides my dress blues. I entered the main room and took in the sight, scanning over the individuals.

   It was easy to tell the difference between world leaders, Patriot crewmembers, and Pioneer crew members. For one, every crew member (regardless of ship) held military stature. Secondly, the Pioneer crewmembers had uniforms. Dark grey slacks and navy tops. The rest were leaders. I recognized several countries. The US, England, Canada, and even China had apparently joined the endeavor. There were countless more. Undoubtably the countries involved in the IGSC.

   Locating a waiter, I took the offered glass and drifted into the crowd. A few people mingled here and there. But no one really knew each other, I could tell. I merged in and out of the crowd, curiously examining the individuals like a puzzle.

   "Ah, Ms. Autumn!"

   Director Wilds smiled as he caught my gaze. Obediently, I headed his way. He shook my hand. "Wonderful to see you again!"

   He wore a sharp tuxedo, his hair loose and straitened down his back. He'd ditched his glasses for contacts. In that moment, he reminded me of a tic-tac with a wig.

   "I admit, I am surprised that this will be my first interaction with crewmembers."

   "As is the plan." He sipped his whiskey. "This is a good place to meet one another. Relaxed and without pressure. No one knows what position they hold, yet. There's no reason for tension."

   My eyebrows raised. "Positions have already been chosen?" I'd figured that positions would be delegated after testing everyone for their specialties.

   He made a face. I got the sense he hadn't been in charge of assigning roles. "In a way."

   "I don't suppose you will tell me my position, will you?"

   "It is not my place to."

   I suspected that I'd been chosen for a direct combat or aerial position. Those were my specialties, after all. "Alright. Also--" My gaze found someone over his shoulder. A tall man with skin the color of dark chocolate. I barely caught a glimpse of him and his posture, but I knew who I was seeing, immediately.

   This was, quite possibly, the only soldier in here that looked proud merely through their stance. The other soldiers didn't hold themselves like they were on active duty. But that man did. And he caught my attention immediately. That was someone I needed to meet. He undoubtably was going to be a Bridge Officer.

   I conversed briefly for a few minutes with Director Wilds before I politely disengaged. He meandered away while I drifted to the food bar, idly checking on the man from the corner of my eye. He wasn't wearing dress blues -- I was the only one doing so. He wore a tuxedo with a dark blue bow tie.

   Looking back down at the table, I selected a few pieces of celery. A few moments later I sensed his presence. I relented the illusion that he hadn't noticed me studying him. He appeared beside me at the bar, examining the options with interest.

   "Out of all the soldiers here, you're the only one in your dress blues."

   I placed a few cracker sandwiches on my plate. "I wasn't aware of a dress code."

   "Yet you chose your blues over a formal outfit." He didn't sound condescending. Just intrigued.

   "I suppose I just prefer my blues. After all, they are a large portion of the reason I am here."

   He glanced around the room with a chuckle. "That's true. Silk Thorn." He offered his hand.

   I turned to face him fully, shaking his calloused hand with my eyebrows up. "Genevieve Autumn. Silk?"

   Silk Thorn made a face. "Unwillingly. My field name is Sleek."

   "It's better than Silk, certainly."

   He smiled wordlessly and popped a celery stick into his mouth. After finishing it, he said. "Tell me what you think."

   A vague statement, but I knew what he meant. "It's all a bit . . . ludicrous."

   That earned a laugh from deep in his chest. "It is! It's completely ludicrous. The spaceships, the planet, the freezing process... I have to say, I'm impressed so many people agreed to do this."

   "They've chosen the most fearless individuals on the planet. I suspect no one else would agree. We were brave enough to fight for our countries. Why wouldn't we be brave enough to face the expanse of space? Besides, I had no idea technology advanced enough to make this feasible, much less possible."

   "That was intentional, on their part. According to what I've heard, the Patriot was supposed to have an AI to guide the route and avoid potential issues. It would prevent any unnecessary wake-up calls for the crew. But the Board shot it down."

   I made a surprised sound, rubbing my hairline. Sleek Thorn observed my reaction. "I'm not surprised a group of humans denied the idea of giving an AI grasp over people. A good group of people. Although it would have been helpful, considering the ship should be flying for three centuries without a crew. But we've always been afraid of what we don't know. An AI is just that -- an unknown."

   He nodded, opening his mouth, but a hand landed on his shoulder. He listened to the fellow who whispered in his ear before he nodded. Sleek Thorn turned back to me. "My apologies, I'm being summoned. It was nice to meet you, Genevieve."

   I dipped my head. "You as well, Sleek."

   He disappeared into the crowd. I popped a cheese cube into my mouth and continued to peruse the table. About five minutes later, a glass clinked loudly. The room quieted politely and everyone faced the front, where a projector had been turned on. A podium sat beside the projected symbol of the ISGC. The director of the ISGC cleared her throat -- an aging, round woman with pink cheeks and pearly glasses.

   "Welcome," she greeted. "And thank you all for attending this event. I am Director Li Jing of the International Space Galactic Commission. This event is the first of its kind--the very first meeting between a Patriot crew and a Pioneer crew. Patriot and Pioneer ships will be intertwined in history forever. You, all, are parking in a pivotal moment in humanity's life. You are the key to our survival."

   "No pressure," I murmured, snagging another cracker.

   Director Jing continued after the moment of polite applause. "The public is still not aware of this mission. However, there is a planned press release for the date of takeoff in six months. This meeting is being recorded for the purpose of historical accuracy and importance. Now, let's get straight to business. Beside me is Captain Spencer of the Pioneer. He will do the honor of reading the name of the Patriot's captain."

   A tall, well-built gentlemen walked to the podium as Director Jing stepped aside, picking up a pin from the side. The projector image changed to a navy background with one white stripe through it. Captain Spencer, the man with hooded eyes and thin lips, smiled before he read from the podium, "The Captain is the head of the ship and crew. They are the ultimate decision maker and leader. They have training in all aspects of the ship, as well as foreign relations and tactical thinking. Please welcome the first ever Patriot captain: Captain Silk Thorn."

   Unsurprised, I joined the crowd in applause. The man I'd met stepped up to the podium and shook Director Jing's hand. She pinned something onto his lapel. He then shook hands with Captain Spencer before taking his place, bracing his hands on the podium.

   "Thank you for this honor, Director Jing. I will list the crew from here. I will call the position of the member, their duties, and then their name. They will come to the podium and receive their issued communication clasp and stripes. I will begin with the First Officer."

   Well, it made sense that he was the captain. I'd sensed his natural authority immediately. I glanced down at the table, admiring the selection of cheeses, and decided I couldn't help myself. I haven't had cheese this good in a while... I picked up another cube. I was fairly sure I was safe to eat, considering I was likely going to be in the lower crew.

   Captain Thorn continued, "The First Officer is considered a vice-president, of sorts. They will take the place of the Captain in place of emergency. They are just as well trained as the Captain, and act as their right hand at all times. They assist with tasks, organize the ship, and maintain order. This crewmember must be diligent, intelligent, quick, and a leader." He looked back up at the crowd. "The First Officer of the Patriot is Genevieve Autumn."

   Hesitant applause started before his words registered. I stopped chewing, stifling a surprised look as heads turned, searching for the named officer. Wait. That was my name. I swallowed the rest of the cheese whole, gathering myself. I'd absolutely thought I would be a lower decks member--not the Captain's second. I'd already been lulled into a false sense of security. I wouldn't make that mistake again.

   My feet carried me towards the podium. A wry smile twisted Captain Thorn's lips, as if he knew I'd been caught off-guard. I didn't give any sign of my surprise on my face, instead shaking hands with Director Jing. She pinned a navy stripe with a two white lines through the middle to my lapel. I then shook hands with Captain Thorn, who dipped his head. His gaze met mine, warmer than I anticipated.

   Captain Spencer offered a black cuff. I stepped forward, hesitant, but he gently took my left wrist and slid the cuff over it. With a button, it shortened until it was snug around my wrist. The screen lit up with the green words, "Welcome First Officer Autumn."

   Interesting tech. I examined it before looking up. Now what? I had a decision to make, seeing as I was the first one called, and no one had set the precedent for my next steps. My gaze slid to the Captain, who was watching subtly, waiting to see what I'd do. This decision would tell him the kind of First Officer I would be. And I wanted to make a good impression.

   Well, I'm the First Officer, aren't I? I might as well act like it. I stepped back, behind the Captain diagonally, with Captain Spencer on his other side. My hands clasped behind my back, chin raised to attention. Automatically, I glanced at Captain Thorn. His head slightly dipped, which I took as a good sign. He looked back at the podium, where I could see a tablet providing him with the names he needed.

   "The Combat Officer. The Patriot is the first spaceship armed with weaponry. An entire section of the crew is devoted to handling threats, ranging from close threats to ones in space. They are skilled warriors and adept at handling the weaponry on the ship. However, they need a leader. The Combat Officer oversees all Combat crewmembers and is a Bridge Crewmember. The Combat Officer is Abel Decker."

   The man I expected as a Combat Officer was not the one that approached. I'd predicted a larger, buff fellow that looked like a world war veteran. Instead, a man about my height and weight stepped up. He looked entirely average, just like someone I'd bump into on the street. His buzzed hair and posture was the only giveaway that he was military. Officer Decker shook hands with Director Jing and Captain Thorn. The Combat Officer stepped down as Captain Thorn began reading again.

   "The Intelligence Officer. This Bridge Member is unique in how they do not preside over a department under their named position within the ship. Instead, this is the third-in-command. The Intelligence Officer is in charge of data. They are responsible for gathering information on new locations, events, and life. They are the first archivist of the new generation of humanity. Additionally, the Intelligence Officer is trained in leadership. They are also the head of the medical department. Welcome Olivia Byrne."

   A thin, Chinese woman approached the front. Her hair had been tied back and slicked to a perfect sheen. Her gait reminded me of a feline on the prowl. She shook hands, received her pin, and stepped down. Captain Thorn continued, "Technical Officer. This Bridge Crewmember oversees the maintenance and technical departments. These departments are responsible for the well-being of the ship, and the Technical Officer is well-versed in all aspects of the Patriot. Welcome Quinn Peterson."

   A short, blonde fellow shook hands with Director Jing, surprise marring his pointed face. His glasses looked too round with his sharp nose and chin. He struck me as a sheepish fellow--I wouldn't have guessed he had military background as he stepped down.

   "Navigation Officer. The world is a vast place, and knowing it is important to our mission. The Navigation Officer is devoted to the knowledge of our galaxy and future destinations. They are in charge of mapping courses and detecting dangers along these routes. There is a small team of crewmembers dedicated to Navigation, which the Officer oversees. Welcome Anthony Edwards."

   This officer was large. He towered over Director Jing, arms as thick around as my head. He received his pin politely and moved back, though my eyes remained glued to him. That guy looked dangerous.

   "And the last of the Bridge crew is the Science Officer. The Science Department was created for the purpose of discovery. They will work closely with the Science and Intelligence Officers. The Science Officer is in charge of exploration missions for the purpose of creating a scientific profile. Welcome Allen Bird."

   The final man to shake Director Jing's hand was one with golden skin and dark, combed hair. His dark eyes crinkled with a smile as he met Captain Thorn and then departed to the crowd, vanishing from sight.

   For the next hour, Captain Thorn called names. The positions ranged from Medical Department Overseer, Engineer, Navigation Crew, to Supplier. The names of the lower crew blurred together until I realized I'd been struggling to pay attention.

   The last person received their stripes and clasp. Captain Thorn set aside the tablet, which caused a glance from Director Jing. He's supposed to keep using it, I thought, observing the reactions of the Director as Captain Thorn began to speak.

   "Congratulations, all of you. You have been hand-selected for this mission, based off of your courage and devotion. Though we face a daunting challenge, I feel that I couldn't have a better-suited crew."

   There were a few shuffles within the crowd. Captain Thorn continued, "After today, we begin training. It will take six months. We will all go through the proper information and training for our specialties. In exactly six months, we take off. Then this world will never see us again."

   Captain Spencer's arms tensed as he watched the other Captain, perhaps worried he was getting too close to a sensitive topic. But the Captain got the effect he wanted. The crowd and leaders murmured, uneasy. I felt chills down my back. Director Jing refused to look at him.

   "The fate of the future of humanity has been put into our hands." He looked around, gaze searing into the faces. "I assure you, we will not fail."

   The Director's face eased as there was a whoop. Glasses raised into the air. My shoulders relaxed. Captain Thorn raised his glass and called, "To our future success!"

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