Artemis' Bow C1 P1

[[Repost of Part 1 of Artemis' Bow in accordance with the new reference image for Artemis]]

Part 1:

Strawberry flavoured smoke hung heavy in the air, curling outwards from Artemis’ mouth in lazy pink streams as she slowly exhaled. What was going to be a somewhat serene little evening spent in the company of holovids and VR had recently been interrupted by the incessant beeping of her internal comms unit and the voice of a crew member telling her that her presence was required in the cockpit. With a heavy sigh she confirmed she’d come as soon as possible and after a twitch of her fingers her commlink was shut down. Procrastinating before the end of her little night off, Artemis took another long draw from her smoke-stick. Strawberry flavoured smoke filled her mouth and after a moment puffed out from her nose, sluggishly joining the red coloured haze that had built up in her room.

“Disgusting.” Art muttered to herself, putting the stick out on the sleeve of her jacket before tossing its smoldering remains over one shoulder. She had a crate of the things stashed in the corner of the cargo bay that she hadn’t been able to offload for weeks, nobody would touch the stuff. They were all the rage in some inbred backwater but after having tried the stuff herself, Artemis could see why there had been rumours spread of some folk being turned into fruit along the Rim - it seems a fate almost favourable to having to choke down garbage like this. Promising herself that if she couldn’t sell the crate in the next port she’d jettison it, Art pulled herself up from her reverie and climbed out into the ship proper.

Outside her cabin the Jackal groaned and creaked around her, stirring in the night like a living animal. It didn’t seem to matter how long Artemis spent among her rusting iron corridors she could never shake the feeling that she was inside a living being, albeit one made of steel plates and bolts. It didn’t help that Alex was probably asleep by now, the galley was silent and the ship’s halls devoid of the usual clamour and banging of meals being prepared. The stars sliding serenely past the ship’s viewports combined with the silence of its crewmembers to provide an eerie backdrop for Artemis’ ascent to the cockpit. She wondered if she’d ever get used to life at space.

“All clear?” It was force of habit, Artemis realised the moment the words came out of her mouth. Of course it was all clear, they were hundreds of thousands of miles away from the nearest stellar object, why wouldn’t it be all clear?

“Aye captain.” The cockpit’s solitary chair groaned its displeasure as its occupant slowly rose from her seat. Aava’s figure struck a matronly chord, outlined as it was against the dim glow of the stars in front of her. As long as Artemis had known her (and to the wolf’s great confusion) Aava had been overweight. She had a big stomach and a bigger ass and although Artemis had wondered many times why the rabbit didn’t take diet supplements like everybody else did, she never asked. Everyone deserves their privacy this far from The Core. “‘Sept for one fact,” The rabbit continued, turning partially to meet Artemis’ gaze with a tired smile. “We’re coming up on what looks like a derelict. Demeter’s gone ahead and started a scan.”

“Find anything?” Artemis asked, shifting along beside Aava. With the two of them standing together the cockpit was getting a little crowded, it was only designed for one after all. Aava, realising that a good part of her stomach and chest were pressed firmly against poor Artemis politely excused herself.

“Your shift anyways right?” She asked, heading towards the hatch that would lead her to the rest of the ship. Artemis nodded and the bunny disappeared, saying something about a late-night snack in the galley.

“Class E, approximately 23.9km rimward. Not responding to hails.” The voice seemed to originate both from everywhere and nowhere, but Artemis knew better than that. Demeter had been installed only recently and although it’d taken some time to get used to hearing the AI’s voice in her head she frequently saved the crew time with navigation, scans and drone control.

Artemis lowered herself into the solitary pilot’s seat and pulled up a holographic display of the vessel in question. E class were a mite bigger than her little hauler, and a rare find so far out in the middle of nowhere. “Looks like an Orca, that burning along the side laser fire?” True to its name, the Orca-class was a mighty looking, elongated affair with fins well adapted to cruising through both atmosphere and space. Seeing one drifting and powerless however was a sobering experience.

“No. Those marks are indicative of engine overload. It seems that the vessel’s containment shielding ruptured.”

The wolf frowned and sunk back into her chair. It creaked a little, probably still sore from seating the fat bunny. “Lifeboats?” She asked after a moment.

“The Orca’s AI is dormant or disabled. I have been able to retrieve only fragmented information. The ship has room for two lifeboats, zero remain onboard, if there had been any to begin with.”

Artemis’ frown deepened, and for good reason. An E-class could carry what, Forty? Fifty people easily. Perhaps half that much would be able to survive any length on two lifeboats. As she watched the holographic depiction of the floating derelict she realised there was a strong chance that not everyone had managed to escape it, if anyone had at all. “Scans show anything else interesting? Life signs?” The question was hopeful but it was unlikely anyone had been able to survive long after engine containment failed.

“No. No lifesigns detected.” Demeter paused for a moment. “Porter’s Guild regulation ninety two dash three requires you dock with the derelict vessel to scan for and assist any remaining crew.”

“I know that!” Artemis snapped, scowling. Perhaps registering Demeter with the guild was a bad decision. She sighed. “What’s our cargo space looking like?”

“Thirty percent capacity.” Demeter replied. Was she judging Artemis? The wolf shrugged. There was probably something to be said of the salvage possibilities aboard an Orca-class spaceship. Then again, she already had a hull full of specialised medicines, bound towards one of the rimworlds. If she didn’t deliver it on time, it would be her ship floating out here, lifeless...

* * *

Aava waddled on into the galley, humming a pleasant little tune to herself. At this time of night Alex would be fast asleep so she wouldn’t be treading on anyone’s toes if she made herself a little late-night-snack. Wiggling her fingers the purple-blue and white furred rabbit had to stand on her toes to reach the good stuff at the back of the counter, but real bread was worth the effort. Fabricated stuff just didn’t have the same crunch. Whilst she wasn’t a cook she could definitely handle a knife and it was a matter of moments to prepare a sandwich from all fresh ingredients. Lettuce, tomato, bread, a couple of slices of chicken breast here and there with just a dash of pepper and a sprinkle of cheese. She had to hand it to her, Alex kept a well stocked larder.

The rabbit’s stomach gave an impatient grumble and Aava patted it gently. “Shh... you’ll get your food soon.” She said, turning from the kitchen and waddling towards her room. “Demeter?”

“Yes, Aava?”

“What have we got tonight for entertainment?” Since Demeter’s introduction to the ship Aava had been pleasantly surprised to see that the AI could handle an array of different functions simultaneously, from assisting with piloting and navigation to loading and monitoring entire VR worlds for Aava’s entertainment. Eating dinner in a candlelit restaurant beside a sparkling beach somewhat understandably made the experience better than the claustrophobic confines of her room.

“What would you like, this evening?” Demeter replied, her voice coming from speakers set into the interior of the ship.

“Surprise me.”