Duh

The men quickly secure the boat, and everyone leads you off to the mess hall... which, honestly, looks like it belongs in an office building: An eight foot ceiling with acoustic tile, a big table, a bunch of chairs... this could just as easily be used as a meeting room. Two of the crewmen get a bunch of glasses and plates out of a cabinet, while another grabs a giant bag of pretzels and a thied vanishes into a small kitchen where you hear amictowave run for a bit... and he comes out with a big bowl of melted cheese. The captain turns some music on and everyone gets down to a ... surprisingly tame party. Everyone drinks, you take turns slow-dancung with each crew member, and you slowly let yourself forget your worries (the fact that everyone else keeps your cup full helps there).

You figure out you drank too much when you wake up naked the next day, sandwitched between a naked muscled blonde guy underneath you, and a fat naked guy in top of you, both still filling your holes. With some effort, you push the fat guy out of your ass, rolling him off you, and look at him... ah, the captain... then you stand up, the dick of the man underneath you sliding out with a pop. You glance around, and count thirteen more people, all naked and asleep... the entire crew, huh?

Shaking your head, you look at the controls... you don't really know the context, but everything looks OK? You try slapping the captain awake... and he just lays there. Frowning, you slap him harder... nothing.... kick him... nothing... then kick him in the nuts... still no reaction? You frown deeply, and systemically try rousing everyone... and nobody responds. Thinking, you go looking for a computer. It'll all be read-only, but there's a simple way to get the logs from your nanites... ah, there we go: An open workstation at a desk. You pole around, find a USB cable, plug one end into the workstation, and the other into that little spot under your tongue for thermometers.

It takes a minute, but you soon have a file folder open with the logs. You read through them, looking for various things, and... ah. Okay, that's what went wrong there: After the initial body modeling, the genetic cleanup code to handle things like Cystoc Fibrosis or Hemophilia detected the Y chromosome as an abnormality rather than expected variation, and 'fixed' it by overwriting it with an X. Then the next round of repairs then modeled your body as female, and it repaired you to that state... explaining why you changed on the second long rest rather than the first.

You tap your fingers on the console, and pull the cable from your mouth. Looking a the crewmen scattered about, you consoder that it's really unlikely all fifteen would get black-out drunk. You frown... drag one over, and carefully insert the USB cable into his mouth under his tongue. Another minute and you're looking at logs again... and the simple fact that you're looking at them tells you roughly what's going on.

"Immortality, the STD. Great..." you shake your head, and pause. "All fifteen?" Not believing you had THAT active of a drunk blackout, you systemically check everyone... same logs. You do a deep dive through one... and yes, based on the initial tissue contact logs... each and every one. Ugh. You trace what you remember of the code in your head, cinsidering your observations... okay, so the nanites aren't deliberately resetting... but when they get into a new body, they don't have enough of themselves to maintain the more dynamic memory, and functionally go through a factory reset for a new user. Sighing, you check the latest log entries... and figure out that you have another six hours before anyone wakes up.

...and you don't even know your way around the ship. You sit down, pondering what to do...