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Artemis' Bow Chapter 1, Part 4
🕑 Added 2017-01-17 12:06:28 +0000 UTCPart 4:
It was some time past midnight when Artemis made her way into the cockpit. She lowered herself into the squeaking leather of the pilot’s chair and yawn escaped her throat as she glanced lazily across the various displays and monitors that surrounded her. The cockpit always had a slightly cramped feel to it, every available inch of space had been taken by holographic readouts, rows of switches, and fading display screens.
From monitors hanging off of the ceiling, Artemis could see the ship’s inbound and outbound data transfers; invisible strings of information that connected them to the relay. Whenever they weren’t running silent there was usually some communication going on. Demeter was constantly syncing her data with that of the network’s.
A glance to the left would show Artemis a holographic display of the local systems. If the Jackal were flying in Core space there would be overlays indicating which corporation or house owned what areas and where the trade lanes were, but out in the middle of Rim space there was nothing like that. The local scanners could only just pick up the faintest echo coming from the Orca they’d just scavenged, and even that was fading like a ripple in a pond.
Propped up on the largest console was a series of displays regarding the health of the ship. If something were wrong with her girl, Artemis would see it there first. To either side of it were controls, coated in a thin film of dust; these days Artemis barely needed to take manual control of the ship. With Demeter about, her job was almost managerial.
Finally, to the right, Artemis had easy access to displays concerning the Jackal’s finances, her contacts, preferred ports and most importantly, the value of her cargo. If everything went right this run, it would be a sizable chunk off her debt, and from there she could get a bigger crew, more cargo, faster engines... certainly the Jackal had room to grow.
Currently though, it wasn’t the Jackal whose growth Artemis was concerned with. Frowning, she pulled herself up to the center console and with a few deft motions of her fingers began to dig through the ship’s holographic interface. The AI was housed primarily in the heart of the ship, behind layers of steel where its nerve like wiring connected it with every aspect of the Jackal. Another, smaller part of Demeter had been installed directly into Artemis’ brain, the hardwire allowing the AI unfettered access to the wolf’s every command, as well as a deeper understanding of the logic of sentient beings. Additionally, being both the captain of the ship and Demeter’s primary host meant that she could browse through her AI’s own logs at will, though it could not be done without aid of a physical interface.
Coming home to find Aava’s stomach so large that it hung over her knees was a surprise to say the least. Artemis didn’t really mind the rabbit’s consumption, nor was it particularly out of character, but something was gnawing at the back of her mind. Demeter’s drones had been hovering nearby and she wondered, had they been helping Aava? And if so, why?
With the AI’s logs beginning to flow like water through the wolf’s hands, the data began to paint a picture. As the Jackal’s AI, Demeter played several roles. Not only did she keep the ship breathing and flying, she served its crew as best she could. It seemed, as Artemis tugged and pulled through the data, that Demeter had been doing just that when the wolf caught her and Aava in the galley. It wasn’t any secret that Aava liked food, her generous paunch could attest to that. Tapping into the rabbit’s desires, Demeter was able to better service her crew, delivering the rabbit onto the very edge of the highest peaks of happiness and contentment. At least, that’s what the logs would have her believe.
Artemis leaned back, the old and battered pilot’s chair creaking beneath her as she did. Strictly speaking, AI weren’t supposed to behave like this - at least, Artemis had never heard of anything like it in the past. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The AI was programmed to try and keep the crew happy. Artemis had thought that meant making sure meals were on time, the shower water was hot, maybe even playing mood music or filtering malware or advertisement content from their entertainment. But in the space of a little over an hour, Demeter had found a shortcut to improving moral, in this case through the rabbit’s stomach. According to the AI’s own results, she’d made Aava more happy than the rabbit had been in months. It was becoming harder and harder to see a reason to fault the AI for its logic, or its actions.
“Artemis,” Demeter began, jolting Artemis upright. The AI’s voice did a good job of breaking the silence, as always. Art wondered if she’d ever be used to having it look over her shoulder. “Is there a reason that you’re browsing through my logs?
She’d already found what she needed from them. “I was curious about your interactions with Aava tonight,” Artemis replied, closing the logs as she spoke, “because I haven’t seen her that full since shoreleave on Rhea.”
“Access of these files is restricted, due to privacy implications. Can I assist you?”
Artemis leaned back into her chair and folded her arms behind her head, feeling the exhaustion of the day’s events ebbing away from her.
“Yeah,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Why’d you do what you did with Aava tonight? Why’d you feed her so much, and through Augmented Reality? Don’t you think it could have been dangerous, or else that her size might prevent her from carrying out her duties on the ship?”
It was a straight question, and she hoped she’d get a straight answer.
“It made her happy.” Demeter’s reply was simple, but she paused before continuing. “Aava serves as medical officer navigational specialist on board this vessel. I have done nothing that would compromise her ability to perform her jobs and as a result of this evening her performance is estimated to improve significantly.”
After having read through the logs Demeter’s answer was what Artemis expected. It all made sense, even if she didn’t fully understand it.
With perhaps the barest moment’s hesitation Demeter added, “Would you like me to stop?”
“No,” Artemis decided, resting her feet on the console in front of her. “Well... next time try to keep her in her room at least, but if it makes her happy, do as you please. I don’t care as long as she can still do her job.”
“Of course, Artemis,” was Demeter’s reply.
- - -
Alexandra could feel when the ship’s docking tether retracted and, carried by the force of two heavy engines, the Jackal began to move onwards. If she’d bothered to look out a viewscreen she might have seen the Jackal’s wake buffet and rock the derelict, tearing chunks of plating off as it sped away. She’d seen it all before. Back in the day, Alex had indulged in a more visceral form of destruction. When she’d leave the other ship behind it would be scattered like dust from her wake, fragments glittering in the lights of her engines.
The thrill of obliteration would have to go unsatisfied for another night. After digging through and hauling boxes for most of the night the dragoness wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a long sleep. Stifling a yawn behind a sleek, fur covered paw, Alex dragged her feet as she trudged down to her cabin, a floor beneath the galley. Demeter opened the door for her as she descended the last step, and she paused in the entrance to stretch and work some more strength into her aching, tired muscles.
“Crewmember Alexandra,” she heard Demeter say, “you seem stressed.”
Even though Alexandra didn’t have a pilot’s link like Art did, the AI was still capable of projecting its voice into her head. It made sense, she supposed, as she’d had more improvements made to her body than she could keep track of. Direct comm links were to be expected.
Demeter continued, asking, “Is there anything I can do to assist?”
“No,” Alex replied. “I don’t think so.” She motioned the door shut behind her. “I’m just gonna soak in the bath for a spell and then get some sleep.”
“Are you sure? My logs indicate you haven’t eaten in approximately twelve hours. Can I make you something to eat before you turn in?”
Alexandra laughed as, in the privacy of her room, she began to disrobe, slipping her shirt over her head and wings. They unfurled slightly, the fabric of her shirt brushing through her feathers as she lifted it up.
“If you start cooking I might be out of a job, D.” She tossed her shirt aside and added, “Do you even know how to cook?”
“Of course,” Demeter replied. “The standard food fabricator in the galley isn’t just for show. Food cartridges may not compare to the delicate and subtle flavours that accompany your cooking, but I have been programmed to provide over fifteen thousand different forms of sustenance, to a variety of different species, cultures and conditions.”
Unbuckling her belt, Alex contemplated the offer for a moment. She could use a break from cooking. And a pre-fab’d meal would be a nice, lazy close to an otherwise exhausting day. As though to agree with her, her stomach grumbled loudly.
“Alright,” said Alex, nodding, “you’ve convinced me. Think you’ll be able to whip something up whilst I soak in the bath?”
“Is there anything specific you’d like?” Demeter asked after a momentary pause.
“Surprise me.”
- - -
Alex liked baths. Truthfully, she enjoyed hot tubs, heated swimming pools, and warm bodies of water in general, so the bathtub in her quarters would do in a pinch. By trade, Alex had become very familiar with zero-gravity, but there was something different, something soothing about the feeling of floating in water that just sapped the worry and stress of a day away. She could feel everything she’d been holding onto, from negativity to concerns for the future and fears from the past, all flowing out of her, rising to the surface of the water, before evaporating like steam in the air. The water was deep enough that she could spread her wings out, curling them along the sides of the bathtub beneath her, warmth saturating every feather, flushing dirt and dust from her sensitive skin.
Her eyes were shut, the dragoness thoroughly enjoying the sensation of the warmth and the steam, when the door to the bathroom slid open.
A solitary drone hovered in, holding up a large tray covered with dishes. Instantly the heady scent of roast game found its way to her nose and Alex was salivating before she knew it.
“What uh... what’s this?” Alex asked, sitting up in the bath, her hair clinging to the back of her neck.
The drone approached, laying the tray down in front of the dragon. It clipped into place, inches above the water.
“Over the past three weeks I have observed you make precisely two meals that left you satisfied.” Came Demeter’s response, this time from a speaker on the front of the spherical drone as it hovered in place. “I have attempted to replicate such a situation. I hope you enjoy it.”
Alexandra blushed, speechless.
In front of her was a selection of grilled, roasted, charred and boiled meats, along with various vegetable accompaniments, boats of gravy and small mounds of mashed potato. There was enough to feed a small family and, if Alex was true to herself, Demeter’s assessment of the situation was right. This was the kind of meal that Alex enjoyed. The kind of meal that didn’t end until her stomach was bulging, until she could feel herself digesting what would be pounds, and pounds of mass into energy and blubber. Her hands twitched, the scents dancing playfully across the tip of her nose. Somehow the AI had cottoned onto her desires.
“Why do you hesitate? Is this not what you want?”
Alex fumbled for the words, feeling just a little embarrassed. She hadn’t been prepared for the revelation of the ship’s AI knowing that, deep down, she loved to stuff herself until she looked pregnant with twins. After thinking about it differently, however, Alexandra shook her head. This was normal. This was what happened when an AI played a role in every facet of someone’s life. It wasn’t a matter of privacy, it was a matter of the utility of an AI like Demeter, and what it could do for her if she let it.
“I… I love it.” Alex finally replied, having found her conviction.
“Very good. Please enjoy yourself at your typical speed,” Demeter suggested, her tone bordering on self satisfied, which was strange for an AI. “The second course is on its way soon.”
Alex was astounded. “A second course?!”
She didn’t waste time thinking, diving straight in, using her hands to tear off massive chunks of meat and cram handfuls of vegetables into her mouth until her cheeks swelled up like grapefruits. Her throat bulged with the massive payload as she managed a massive swallow, and Alex briefly wondered if she would have choked had she not received such extensive modifications. This didn’t stop her from taking another mouthful, and another. She didn’t so much as look up when Demeter’s drone opened the door once more and glided from view.
To Alexandra, cooking was an art form, and like all art, it was meant to be appreciated. She could not conceive a better way to reward herself for skillfully preparing a meal than to personally and thoroughly appreciate that meal to the limits of her own capacity. As such, her passion for eating made it more of a hobby than a means of sustaining herself.
This intense passion made her irreplaceable as the Jackal’s cook, but more importantly, it was a sense of purpose, a driving force that inspired her to spend every available moment mastering her craft. Taste was important , but in her opinion, quality shouldn’t dictate quantity. She felt that if a dish were delicious, it was meant to be enjoyed in bulk, sparing no expenses. There was also something to be said for the feeling of her stomach contracting around a meal so large that it’d have taken the combined effort of five people to consume. Something about the feeling of stretching, growing, and digesting. Something intoxicating about flooding her belly with so much food that her body doesn’t know what to do with it all.
It was inevitable that, a couple of years ago, Alexandra had modified her body to accommodate an obscene amount of food within. She didn’t know exactly what her limits were, if she had any, but she knew that there had never been a meal she couldn’t finish when she put her mind to it. Along with elasticity modifications, her body was host to a swarm of metabolising nanobots which helped to make sure any additional fat from her binges was burned away in a couple of days. It had almost become a game to Alex, a guilty pleasure, to stuff herself until she could barely move and see how fast it would take her to metabolise, and whether or not anybody would notice the difference. The few times that they did, she claimed she was bloated, and that seemed sufficient to dissuade further investigation.
Now and then the dragoness wondered, were she to eat a proper meal, a real meal, if she would be able to hide it, or if instead she would be waddling when next she was called to perform a duty for the captain. The thought burned a blush into her cheeks and made her shiver with giddy pleasure. She realized that if she was lucky, tonight would be that meal. Something to top her previous experiences and drag her guilty little pleasure out into the open.
The thought both excited and scared her.
Bump.
She’d been so busy eating, exploring every new flavour and texture, that she hadn’t even paid attention to the best part! Curiously, Alex shifted and glanced at her middle. The bloated mound breached the water like an island, and past her breasts, she could see it had lightly tapped the tray she was eating from. Upon closer examination, Alex was grateful that she was in the bath eating. In her gluttonous trance, she’d already made a little mess of things, crumbs and gravy having splattered onto her ample bosom. With a guilty little smirk, she rubbed them clean and resumed her gorging. At the moment, she looked like she might be at a full term pregnancy, but she was excited to see how long that would last, how far she could push it.
- - -
Artemis stretches in the pilot’s chair, giving one last look to the navlocks that Demeter’s laid out. All things considered the Jackal should make good time to deliver her load of mushrooms to the colonists, and the faster she does the faster they can be out of there and counting their credits. There’s no great chance of running into anyone else out here in the Rim, which is why Artemis was so surprised when, as she was about to leave, she hears a small beeping from the bottom left console. Swivelling in her chair she fixes the readout with a curious gaze.
Contact.
“Demeter?” Artemis didn’t wait for the AI’s response, pulling up as much info as possible. There wasn’t much to be had.
“The contact is likely a class F or G, shuttle or long-range hauler like us.”
“Have they seen us yet?” Artemis asked, her heart beginning to race. “Gods, what were the odds...”
“We haven’t been scanned yet, captain. They may not have seen us. The odds of encountering another vessel in this quadrant are seven thousand, two hundred and eighty three to one. What are your orders?”
