“It’s hard business falling in love with an android,” Crewmate A said as B scream-sobbed over the figure in their arms.
They desperately pressed their forehead against the synthetic skin of their face, and a little green light blinking out from the blankly staring pupils made a neon pinprick below their earlobe.
“But Captain said they could be repaired,” said C, squinting confusedly at the scene. “Once they’re fixed they just need a reboot.”
“Rebooting an android is not like rebooting a computer,” A said. “The body lives, but the memories don’t.”
C gaped, the words suddenly sinking in. “You mean they’re essentially…”
“Dead.” A grimaced. “I’m sure B has a back up of their memory drive, but these are progressive AIs, developing personalities as they go. It can’t just be put back in. Don’t you think it’s easier losing someone for good than watching them become someone else? Or rather, watching someone else claim their body?”