The hermaphroditic slug sex didn't quite end up as fun as Emily had hoped. She had fun, sure. It was an experience unlike anything she'd ever had. Ultimately though it sort of just felt like masturbating, and she'd probably get more out of it with a proper partner. Then there was the awkward end result. Just a few minutes after she'd finished, there was a rumbling in her... some organ or other, and out poured this handful of marble sized sticky wet orbs she kind of had to assume were eggs.
Now, this whole little space adventure had sort of gotten its start from thinking about maybe starting a family, but that was her thinking about having one human baby to raise as a couple, not... several dozen weird space slugs. "Hey uh, what should I do about... these?"
Rick's friendly feminine voice chimed out over the speakers. "Please clarify the nature of the problem, Captain?"
Emily gestured at the mess she'd left on the floor. "Pretty sure I just laid a bunch of eggs? I really don't want to deal with those hatching and there being a bunch of little baby slugs all over. Can we just... get rid of them?"
"Consulting medical files... confirmed. The captain has self-inseminated and produced a clutch of eggs. Most typically it is advised to mate with a partner to preserve genetic diversity, but when no suitable mate is available, self-inseminating is a means of repopulating after disaster, or as a means of establishing a foothold in a new environment. Many also find the experience to be pleasurable-"
"Wait, did you just like, pull up an encyclopedia on... whatever it is I am at the moment?"
"Affirmative."
"That's neat, but honestly I think I'm done with the slug anyway. Can we just... get rid of these?"
"Affirmative. If the captain is not currently prepared to bring new life into the world, the ship's biological recyclers are fully capable of rendering unwanted bio-materials inert."
"Right... thanks for looking that up. I'm just... going to play with the camera some more until I'm in a better place to clean this up and then maybe take a shower or something. Just... file the alien fun facts away for now and maybe get back to figuring out how to fly?"
"Affirmative, purging alien data from active memory." A little chain of lights suddenly popped up along a wall, helping Emily find the ship's bathroom. A few more presses of the button and she was some big burly ape thing and able to find a dust pan to deal with the eggs. Afterwards, she had a long shower, found a rather large bed to have a nap, a kitchen of sorts full of big purple bananas to eat once she woke up, and not really feeling the gorilla form anymore, she got back to sitting at the button trying on new bodies.
After another dozen or so strange new alien bodies, it occurred to Emily that Rick hadn't said anything at all in what had to have been hours now, if not a whole day. "Rick?" she asked. No answer. "Hey Rick, say something!" Still nothing. She started pounding her fists on the sides of anything that looked computery, trying to get his attention. The weird alien body she was in at the time was a sort of big green sphere of a body with one great big eye, a mouth, and a cute little ponytail, with two super long spindly arms and nothing much else. It was pretty fun just sort of running around on her hands and swinging off safety rails, but didn't seem too useful for getting her boyfriend-turned-spaceship's attention.
"Hey, can you hear me? Please say something!"
"Affirmative captain," came that familiar calm voice. "You are able to issue me voice commands."
"Why weren't you answering me just now?"
"You have not made a clear request for several hours. It is possible some recent vocalizations were intended as commands but not parsed as such. Please state any requests in a clear concise tone."
That was way too computery a response for Emily's comfort. "OK... what do you remember from... before I went and took a nap there?"
"History of recent commands, reverse chronology from request point: Minus 9 hours, 22 minutes, 7 seconds, the captain requested files on alien species be purged from memory. Minus 9 hours, 22 minutes, 8 seconds, the captain implied a desire to be guided to waste disposal. Minus 9 hours, 22 minutes, 55 seconds, the captain requested information on her species' reproductive methods. 10 hours-"
"Wait," said Emily, having a sudden horrifying thought. "Are you thinking of humans as an alien species?"
"Affirmative. Any species other than that of the captain is classified as an alien species."
Emily's eye shot open in fear. "Oh god... please tell me you didn't delete all your memories of being human!"
"You didn't delete all your memories of being human."
Emily fumed. "No I mean, the 'alien facts' or whatever I told you not to worry about before. Those aren't... gone, right? Like all of that is still stored somewhere? You can like, load it back up?"
"You have not request any files be deleted from databases. Would you like to purge databases now?"
"No!" Emily screamed. "Can you just open up everything you had running, uh, 10 hours ago?"
"The last ten recently opened files have been reopened. Would you like to search for something in these? For older backups, a full image of active memory contents is stored every 100 hours. The last image was stored 87 hours ago."