Our Question Algorithm v.32.7 thrives on spectacle, and Helga Britannia delivers. Below is the unabridged transcript of the exchange that left our sensors ringing and the sponsor satisfied.
Q1: Your voice has been described as “audible monarchy.” Do you feel more like a queen or a karaoke machine with delusions of grandeur?
Helga: “A karaoke machine does not make admirals cry into their medals. A queen does not broadcast into asteroid belts. I am both. Bow, then sing along.”
Q2: Rumor says your concerts are subsidized by the Federation to distract miners from radiation poisoning. True or false?
Helga: “False. My voice is more addictive than stims, and far less taxable. The Federation wishes it could buy me.”
Q3: Fifty years on tour — are you immortal, or just really good at recycling yourself?
Helga: “My body does not age. My echo does not fade. VANTISYN™ keeps me in perfect shape — they say my knees are now technically prototypes. I plan to sing for a hundred years, just to break the Galactic Tour Record and bore the stars themselves before I stop.”
Q4: Dominion priests call you “heresy that harmonizes.” Thoughts?
Helga: “If their god wanted silence, it should’ve muted me at birth. Until then, I will keep singing them into ulcers.”
Q5: Final note: Will you ever perform on Outpost Aegir, or is that beneath your crown?
Helga: “Beneath? Darling, nothing is beneath me. Even rusted stations deserve an anthem. I’ll make their air recyclers weep.”