There's a difference between "this work has a lot of cameos and obviously inspired tech" and "the characters are commenting on the book they're in." I've been aware of the former for a while.

Yeah, that was new. Not to mention technically inaccurate: there have only been 5 chapters total, of which only 3 or perhaps 4 have been spent actually "running away like a little bitch".
 
Well, she's finally starting to catch on to the whole "in a bullshit Mecha anime where space angel bullshit >>>> any given problem" deal.

And shit, we had Macross, Eva, and Outlaw Star references all in one chapter. And... I didn't watch it, but the mech angel suit feels fairly similar to Infinite Stratos, though I could be wrong.
 
It didn't really matter that the space Roomba continued to chase me down the halls as I ran circles around a ship that wasn't even that large.
[INSISTENT BEEPING INTENSIFIES]
"Get in the Empyrean, Artemis!"
Hastily scrubs the "Shinji" off the cue card
Fun fact: Lots of war veterans fear death less than letting their war buddies down. Or so I've heard.
Can confirm. Death isn't all that scary after a while.
Which was about as far as I got before the top of the Fortune's Wings suddenly sprouted a large robotic arm like that ones you see at a car factory or a construction truck, a beam erupted from its end before swinging at me, and my vision was suddenly full of light as I was hit across the face with a giant lightsaber.
Man, I haven't seen Outlaw Star in forever! :V
 
And this is why you figure out which button is marked "gun" before you charge on in!
 
Chapter 6: The Arkology (VI)
Gazetteer helped me immensely with this chapter, because of course she did, and I'm a useless idiot.

*****​

Chapter 6: The Arkology (VI)

"What the shit!" I screamed as I once again tumbled uncontrollably through the emptiness of space. That was a statement, not a question.

The screaming was a good thing, honestly. I was still alive.

Bright stars against the aurora borealis across all of space spun so fast across my vision that they became faint lines. The temperature in the Empyrean's forcefield - previously kind of comfortably cool - suddenly rose to sauna-like temperatures. Alarms and alerts of different sounds and pitches and tempos began ringing in my head, and holographic pop-ups with different warning icons flashed in my field of vision. A bar on the top of what could generously be called my holographic UI - colored blue with the glaring exception of a transparent fraction on the right - began flashing red frantically as the digits at its center dropped rapidly in value. The female voice in my head, slightly distorted for some alarming reason, filled me in: <Warning: Shields at 60%. Auto-repairing minor damage to shields subsystem.>

Holy crap, it took our two-fifths of my shields? What the hell was this stupidly powerful shit?

"Artemis!" came a familiar voice that I could barely process in my head. It was Scarlet over the radio, but at this point in time, while fighting down the nauseating urge to hurl, I mostly thought it was probably Scarlet. "Artemis!"

I struggled to regain control of my Empyrean. It wasn't actually very hard; I thought about it, and energy pulsed from the wings of my suit of armor. It took a moment, but I finally stopped tumbling through the vacuum, regaining my bearings. I reflexively flinched away from the Fortune's Wings - the asshole who had smacked me - as soon as I saw it. Of course, my Empyrean interpreted "flinch away" as "fly half a mile backwards within the space of a breath", which was just as well. But I need not have bothered; actually taking a good look at the ship, I realized that I had apparently been knocked out of the range of its lightsaber.

"Y-Yeah!" I gasped to Scarlet, wondering whether or not I actually wanted to throw up from that spin. I wasn't sure I actually felt vertigo - I most certainly would've felt it if I were back on Earth or whatever - which actually somehow made it worse. Like, my body expected something there, but the lack of a physical response made my body feel like it was in limbo, which somehow made it feel worse. "Yeah, I'm here!" I briefly wondered what vomit in space would look like.

Even across the radio, Scarlet actually sounded relieved. "Oh, good," she exhaled. Then, with a hint of frustration, like a very angrily chiding mother: "I told you not to get too close! You can't rely on that thing missing again."

About that. "Well, it didn't."

"...What?"

Machine gun fire was being directed towards me again. My vision filled with angry orange lines from the Fortune's Wings' turrets as I darted away and created even more distance between myself and the ship. "It didn't miss. It hit me in my goddamn face."

There was a very notable pause, and I could almost hear Scarlet blink over the radio. "...Okay," she replied blandly; I had a feeling that she thought I was bullshitting her, for whatever reason. It's not like I had wanted to be hit in the face with a lightsaber. "Well...don't let it do that again."

Taking a good look at the Fortune's Wings, I also realized the giant lightsaber it was swinging from its giant robotic arm - I was still having trouble getting over how ridiculous that was - was not actually a lightsaber, at least not in the sense that plasma or whatever was spewing from it. Rather, I had been deceived by its smouldering edge, glowing an intense red with heat. In other words, the damn thing was a giant soldering iron shaped like a giant sword. Wielded by a spaceship. For some reason. It not being a real lightsaber would have been disappointing, if I had any room to consider that. Instead, all that was going through my head were unhelpful facts about the properties of metal from my classes and internship, that superheating steel or whatever wouldn't improve cutting power, and should've only made it more fragile.

I had, however, been shot at days ago with a lightning gun. The last two weeks here had taught me that my common sense and applied knowledge was not necessarily held in high regard by this part of the universe. So not being hit by that heat sword was probably a really good idea.

No time to think that much about it; gunfire and missiles were still coming at me from in ludicrous amounts. The good news was that the Fortune's Wings had decided our ship wasn't a threat, and was no longer firing missiles in her direction. The bad news, of course, was that the machine gun fire and missiles were all pretty focused on me.

At least, for a while, it was. But after about half a minute of dodging and weaving and trying to figure out how I was going to swordfight with a spaceship, the gunfire and the missiles abruptly stopped. Four glowing lines - red this time instead of the blue lines the missile contrails had formed - suddenly jettisoned themselves from the Fortune's Wings' side. The shapes creating those red lines were larger than the missiles this time, and in fact looked dismayingly familiar...

"The Fortune's Wings is deploying Empyreans," Scarlet helpfully announced, a moment after I'd come to that same conclusion. "I count four. Be careful, your Empyrean is of Antecessor make, but I have no idea how well it'll hold up."

Meaning we had no idea if it would just blow apart on the next pass. Did Scarlet want me to dogfight, four on one, against the flickers of light blazing toward me, trailing angry red flame? Because that was what it seemed like.

Having someone actually believe in you, even out of necessity, for the first time in your life shouldn't have felt this terrifying.

The day was getting worse and worse by the minute. I had no idea how to fight with a sword, and I just had the snot smacked out of me when a spaceship hit me with a sword. The extent of my knowledge in this regard could be summed up as "hit the other guy very hard". But I tried to remain positive. I had - supposedly - the superior Empyrean. And I hadn't survived two weeks of this crap to go down now.

So I got ready to charge, sword ready...

...When four staccato lines of orange fire - one from each of the approaching Empyreans - suddenly whizzed right past me. Several of those bursts of lines of light struck my shield, bouncing off with a distinctive electric-like hiss as they snapped by. Once again, I instinctively tumbled away, trying to dodge, yelping as I panicked and ineffectually dodged a hail of bullets from four different Empyreans spreading out before me to flank me from four different directions.

Oh, I thought almost blankly, too exasperated to actually be angry anymore as I once again spun uselessly in my Empyrean. Oh, this is great. They have guns. Friggin' guns. I have a goddamn sword.

I did the proper thing: I started flying away, fleeing once again like a total pussy. "Scarlet!" I cried into the radio.

"What is it?" came Scarlet's reply; she has the grace, at least, to sound genuinely concerned at my distress.

"They're shooting at me!"

There is a moment's pause. Then, in a tone that did not lack a hint of incredulity: "Well, then, shoot back!"

"I don't have guns!"

There was a pause. "Oh. Oh." I half-expected to hear Scarlet's heart sink to the pit of her stomach, but she actually seemed to have things together despite the very obvious bad news of "we have even less weapons than we expected". That, or the long electric-hiss of another stream of bullets bouncing off my shield - another cluster of flying metal - had masked any such sounds. "Um. What do you have?"

"I have a sword."

"Then go cut them down."

Despite the urgency of dodging bullets, I actually almost paused for a moment. I wasn't sure if Scarlet was being sarcastic or unreasonable, or if she was actually trying to get me killed after all. But with the power of all my limited experience, I could safely declare that typically speaking, in a game of rock-paper-scissors, "sword" did not actually beat "machine gun". "I have a sword, Scarlet!" I shrieked back.

"And you're flying faster than the other Empyreans can hit you!"

I blinked for a moment before turning back. Streams of bullets were still flying after me, but the fire was growing increasingly inaccurate. I was no longer hearing consistent snaps of bullets bouncing or disintegrating or exploding against my energy shield. And the Empyreans - those streaks of red lines marking their contrails - suddenly seemed much further away, at least compared to when I had started fleeing from them mere seconds ago.

I glanced at the graphics encompassing my vision - a series of holograms functioning as a UI - and a bar stretched across the top of my field of view. The blue within it had shrunk to roughly sixty percent when I got hit by that stupid giant heat sword, and despite the amount of gunfire that had bounced off them, my shields - at least I was assuming that bar was representing my shields - did not really drop much, hovering roughly around where I had last seen it at: Sixty percent.

Huh, I thought to myself. My engines and shields are pretty powerful.

Actually, I had no idea how well my engines and shield compared to the baseline in this weird corner of the universe. For all I knew, I was up against the equivalent of a Corolla. But I desperately wanted to be optimistic, especially when - for just a moment - a wave of green light from the aurora borealis grazed me arm, there went a cold shiver down my spine, and my arm felt weird and bad and wrong.

I looked down at the lumb in question, just in time to see it ripple. I could somehow see my arm through the gauntlet it was enclosed in, and the gauntlet, and the void beyond, distorted over each other like a reflection in choppy water.

The gauntlet was fine. It was built for this. Probably. Maybe. My arm though, somehow simultaneously protected and suddenly vulnerable, twisting in place, a string plucked by an unseen hand. I couldn't stop it, or even move my arm at all. I could barely feel it moving to begin with, for all that my eyes were telling me. Then, for one horrible, gut-churning moment, it was just gone. The panic receded sharply as the arm came back, crazed vibrations finally stilling, and going back to being a normal-ass arm.

Oh, I thought with a kind of fear that was different from my blind panic of a moment ago, watching as my arm slowly still from where it was wavering through what passed for time and space here. Oh. This must be the voidwaves.

I'm so royally screwed
, I thought, helpfully.

If I didn't get out of here soon, I was going to melt through a wall or something. Or through the fabric of the universe, more than we all already had. Could that happen? Because, at this point, it really felt like it could happen If I didn't kill these enemy Empyreans in front of me, and fast, I'd be dead.

I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to wake up in this strange place with no idea what was going on, only to spend days for people to try to kill me with bullshit sci-fi weapons. I didn't ask to be messed with by a space Roomba, to be shot at with space missiles, to escape by the skin of my teeth only now to have my body at the mercy of some reality-warping space bullshit. I didn't ask to be shoved into a suit of sci-fi armor so I could kill other sci-fi armors and a ship that had been trying to kill us ever since I saw it.

I was pissed.

So maybe, maybe it was understandable that I focused on a vindictive thought, and suddenly the engines of my Empyrean were propelling me at brain-melting speeds at the four enemy Empyreans trying to close in on me.

My charge, a change from flitting around just trying not to die, must've surprised my pursuers because the four of them suddenly split up, darting in different directions. No matter; I was closing in fast on one particular Empyrean, its speed almost painfully slow compared to how fast my own engines were throwing me across space. As I closed the distance, the Empyrean before me was no longer just a flitter of glowing red thrusters leaving a fading trail of light, but a humanoid shape, a person whose four limbs were elongated by long, slender pieces of armor.

Gunfire crisscrossed around me. That didn't matter either; at this speed, most of it trailed uselessly behind me, and the few lucky shots that did land weren't enough to burn through my shields. One or two rounds were not even causing the bar at the top of my vision to dip discernibly. The part of my brain that still wants to apply reality to any part of this situation is annoyed by the lack of any measurement more granular than that.

Most of me, though, was focused on closing in on my chosen enemy Empyrean, miles between us vanishing in seconds. I swiveled and spun - first left, then right - to avoid her desperate gunfire. I felt like an actress for some old martial arts flick, despite being about as aerobically accomplished as a cardboard box and never having flown a plane in my life. I hadn't even been able to last more than a single round of dodgeball back in middle school. So whatever it felt like, I must have just been spinning around in a flailing, awkward circle,and probably not like some Chinese kung-fu master, dodging gunfire from a Japanese plane on a WWII battlefield or whatever the hell my mother said about it. But being able to move around by thinking made things a lot easier. And I was feeling pretty invincible, regardless of how uncool I looked. The other Empyreans were moving too slow; while they were more agile and less sluggish, they were nonetheless slower than the missiles that had tried to kill me all those minutes ago, the ones that I had been outflying. In fact, the one I was closing in on was already attempting to flee, choosing to fly from me instead of shooting.

Too late. The Empyrean was transforming from a distant stick figure into a real person. I could see the faded green of the Empyrean's wings and boots and gauntlets, the bright red trail of light spewing from its engines. I could see the person in the Empyrean, a woman in a weird skin-tight high-tech one piece swimsuit, showing off her skin where they were not encased by Empyrean gauntlets and boots. Brunette hair fluttered behind her as she twisted around to look at me with wide, fearful eyes, betraying the kind of panic of someone who had underestimated their enemy. Her ears were definitely non-human, instead fluffy and sticking out from spots close to the top of their heads, although examining that wasn't quite my top priority, nor was I given much of a chance to do so; seconds before I could swing my sword at her, she suddenly vanished, and I shot right past the place she should have been.

Confused, I willed the wings of my Empyrean to pulse and drag me to a stop, so I could turn around and look back at whatever it was that had just happened. Turning around, I could see the red contrail I'd left behind, complete with dramatically sharp turn to bring me to my current position. I followed along the fading trail, retracing my path, and...there. Sure enough, my opponent was now below me. She had, at the last moment, tucked herself into a dive, and I'd overshot her.

It wasn't that her Empyrean was faster; my reactions were slow.

My scowl was interrupted by a sudden and consistent series of loud zaps, and I yelped and also began a dive, throttling towards my opponent; in the few seconds where I had stopped to see what was going on, the other three Empyreans had retargeted me. I had been a sitting target for just a few moments, and a good stream of bullets had struck my shields. They were still holding, but the blue bar at the top of my display had noticeably decreased from my mistake. It was still holding over half, but not quite like the sixty-percent-ish area I had previously left it at. I could take a lot of hits, but I wasn't invincible.

Again, I started catching up from the Empyrean fleeing from me. This time, I was a bit more ready for those sneaky maneuvers when she twisted away from me. This wasn't to say that I was reacting on the spot, but now that I expected it, I actually saw her turning away rather than her suddenly seemingly turning invisible. Every time she banked away, my reaction times got faster; I turned almost as she turned, stopped overshooting her by too much, and for a moment - for just a heartbeat - she leveled out, maybe to regain her bearings, and I flew at her and swung my super long black high-tech space sword.

And felt a whole lot of nothing as I shot right past her.

She didn't dodge at the last moment. She had not escaped from the range of my sword. I simply missed: I shot past my opponent with less than a few feet to spare, and swung an entire second too late. Hell, I had been closing my eyes when I did it.

Okay, I admit it, that was embarrassing. Still, give me a break; I had never swung a sword or even played baseball at this point. You can thank my mom for that.

Didn't matter. I could try again. Once again, I caught up with my fleeing target, and as I did so, I saw the Fortune's Wings in the background. In fact, the gunfire directed in my general direction seemed to have faltered, as if the other three Empyreans were no longer shooting at me quite as fervently. I didn't have time to pay attention to that, though; after several seconds of an intense chase - if our swirling across space on powerful space engines could be called that, anyways - my opponent suddenly turned around to face me, her engines flaring with what felt like actual propellant instead of my energy whatever, and she was suddenly charging towards me, having drawn a sword from somewhere. It looked like a typical medieval sword, albeit one that was shorter and thicker than my own long, relatively thin blade. The blade was grayish in color, save for dark spots across its blade that looked like wear and tear, or even some kind of decay.

We were going to try to hit each other midair, then. Mid-space. Whatever. Compared to me just trying to hit a moving target, my self-defense instincts flared as I saw something darting towards me with a sword. Or, really, less "self-defense", and more "I'm actually trying to block a basketball flying towards my face instead of just trying to hit a flying pinata". It doesn't matter; we charged at each other, the distance between us disappeared, and we swung our swords at the same time, like something out of a Game of Thrones trailer at Best Buy.

And I was actually feeling pretty good about myself for that one split-second, as if I was for that one moment actually a really cool space samurai. At least, until the blade of my sword cracked upon impact.

It was one of those things that you felt more than you heard. Like swinging a stick against something, and then feeling that distinctive snap inside what is actually a solid object, the feeling of something not meant to split vibrating through your hands. Stunned, I was still for a moment, almost oblivious to the Empyrean flying right past me, gripping tightly onto my sword but kind of too afraid to actually look up to see if I had somehow shattered a magical space blade.

After a moment - too long a moment, honestly, considering that it took bullet-zaps to bring me out of my dread - I finally managed a look up towards my only weapon. The good news was that it wasn't actually shattered. The bad news was that there was a large spiderweb of cracks centered around the spot where I think it made contact with the enemy's own sword.

Are you kidding me? I thought, stomach dropping. Isn't my sword supposed to be super powerful? How in the hell did her sword put a crack in mine?

I had just completed the thought in my head when a voice spoke in my head: <Warning: Structural damage detected in melee system. Warning: Void-burst oscillator not active. Would you like to activate the void-burst oscillator?>

I knew what an oscillator is, but I had no idea what "void-burst" was supposed to mean, other than the void being the green glowing aurora borealis space around us that was supposed to eat us. On the one hand, under the circumstances, activating it seemed like a really bad idea. On the other hand, under the circumstances - circumstances being "I'm being friggin' shot at again" - I was out of anything resembling a good idea. "Activate void-burst oscillator!" I shouted.

Lines of green light began to run down the blade of my sword. I watched, startled, as light seeped through the seams of the recently-formed cracks, and I suddenly started fearing that this sword was going to just explode in my face.

Which was of course what happened, except not in the way I expected.

There was a burst of intense light, and I screamed as I shielded my head with one arm, too shocked to even have the presence of mind to throw the exploding thing away from me. Not that it would've mattered if it had literally exploded, but it took me a moment to realize that I wasn't dead yet. Then it took me another moment to slowly turn an eye towards what I had been sure was a sword-shaped bomb.

My sword that was now super long and glowing right now.

Some kind of powerful green energy was bursting from the hilt of my sword, volatile and waving, not at all unlike the licking of flames or the flow of a river, but largely streaming away from the sword's guard in a straight line.. A giant straight line, thick enough that I could no longer even see the cracked blade of my sword within this flowing beam, long enough that I couldn't quite see where it even ended. I tried staring down the flowing green streams of light; it momentarily struck me that the stream looked almost startlingly like a concentrated aurora borealis, like the voidwaves around us multiplied by a thousand. Distance was almost impossible to judge here, but my absolutely unsubstantiated guesstimate put the pillar of light in my hands at half a mile long.

Then I paused. I had a different sword. I had energy coming out of my sword. I had half a mile of energy coming out of my sword.

Okay. Let me correct myself: I have a goddamn lightsaber.

Screw the Fortune's Wings and its knockoff heat sword bullshit. I had a real goddamn giant lightsaber.

I turned towards my enemies, only to realize why I wasn't being consistently shot at throughout the time I was marveling at my new weapon. The Empyreans were fleeing from me, except not in the way they previously scattered; rather, they were now seemingly in full retreat, flying back towards the Fortune's Wings. So that's why I previously saw the ship; the enemy Empyreans were leading me back towards her.

In the meantime, I had another concern: The voidwaves around us were very obviously getting brighter. Previously, I could see the stars past its glow, but now, it was nothing around me but a haze of green with shades of blue and purple that hid any hint of the night sky around me. Furthermore, the aurora borealis was beginning to consolidate into noticeable shapes. Where the voidwaves around me had previously formed an indistinct haze - like if I had been stuck inside a large, fluffy cloud - the light around us was beginning to move in something that really did look like waves. Formations not unlike the curtains of an aurora borealis began to form, dividing us across space.

Not that I knew the first thing about voidwaves beyond Scarlet having told me it was Extremely Bad Super Duper No Bueno Holy Shit, and that getting your arm stuck in one sucked. But this was becoming a very real concern, in part because while I didn't actually see my body ripple through my armor again, I could feel - deep in my guts, deep in my bones - reality beginning to shift around me. Something was happening with my innards, because I started feeling nauseous, like all the stuff in my body had started rioting. As if instead of my existence being plucked to ripple like a harp string, it was reality. As if I was stuck in something like an earthquake, except instead of the earth, it was the universe.

I probably wasn't describing things correctly. I've never really listened to my instincts. They've always been kind of shit. But right now, putting aside that I was having some kind of physical reaction to whatever was happening, my instincts were telling me that this was bad, bad, bad.

I'm not sure if the other Empyreans were feeling the same, but their machine guns fire had largely turned into potshots at this point, attacks of opportunity rather than an aggressive offensive. The Fortune's Wings joined in the fun by firing yet another wave of missiles; after having withheld its missiles, perhaps its crew felt safe enough to start shooting at me again now that their Empyreans were, by all indications, returning to the ship and out of the line of fire. The bright glow of bullets and missile contrails flew right at me, passing through one of those giant curtains of aurora borealis light...

...and then they disappeared.

And then, at precisely the same time, suddenly reappeared in a million other places at once. They traveled on at a million different angles and directions all around us for a moment, and then they disappeared again, only to reappear somewhere else.

The bullets and missiles being fired at me were seemingly being teleported at random all over the place. It was like watching some kind of epileptic fireworks display, except you were in the fireworks display, and instead of burning magnesium, it was bullets and missiles flying and teleporting in different directions. It felt like space itself was being fractured, that reality was folding on itself, that straight lines were no longer just straight lines, but bent across our surroundings like refractions from floating, teleporting mirrors.

A number of bullets bounced against my shield from different directions. A missile hurtled past me like a meteor on its way to end the dinosaurs. One of the enemy Empyreans was hit by a missile, disappearing in the explosion. Two more struck the Fortune's Wings, from behind, leaving burning craters of jagged steel in their wake. One of them flew right into the half-mile-long angry beam of my lightsaber...

...And vanished completely. No explosion. No teleporting away to somewhere else, not that I would've been able to tell. But it seemed to have simply vanished into the energy. Actually, now that I thought about it, in our little section of the universe where bullets and missiles were being teleported around like we were in some kind of funhouse mirror world, the fact that my lightsaber was completely straight and cutting through the bullshit was surprising.

I gave my laser sword a swing. I have expected parts of my blade to just scatter, for parts of the giant line of energy to suddenly reappear in other places.

It didn't. It remained a straight, giant, long-ass line. And the missiles that had just so happened to be in the path of my energy blade completely disappeared.

I gave out a startled laugh. Actually, I couldn't tell if the laugh - just two sharp breaths that came out of my throat - was a weak laugh of relief or evil sinister cackling. But after being shot at by guns, after being shot at by lightning, after being shot at by more guns, after being shot at by missiles, after being shot at by missiles, after being shot at by even more guns, after thinking I didn't have a chance in hell to survive all this bullshit with a sword...

I now had a goddamn lightsaber.

The Fortune's Wings was now giving off a white-ish glow in the distance before me. Its profile throbbed a little, pulsing with energy, and I wondered whether this was the effect of the voidwaves on the ship, or perhaps even something else. Still, the fleeing enemy Empyreans were starting to get close, and I couldn't have that. I had a lightsaber, and I hadn't even tested it on anyone yet. So I charged, blazing a path towards my enemy. They fired, of course, missiles and machine guns and everything else I had come to expect by now. But with the speed of my approach, the missiles were going wide, and what few machine gun bullets that did hit my shields simply snapped and evaporated, taking almost nothing off my shields.

Within a mile of the enemy formation, I brought my lightsaber into a swing. Actually, I wasn't swinging the lightsaber insomuch as I was kind of holding it out and letting my forward velocity take care of everything else. It was good enough, though; when I passed the Fortune's Wings with half a mile to spare, the beam from my lightsaber caught one of the enemy Empyreans. And as I flew away from the enemy, there was no explosion, no debris, no nothing. Just empty space where my giant lightsaber passed through.

I laughed. I'm pretty sure this one was an evil cackle. The sword had not failed me. I was close to untouchable. I could destroy them. I could evaporate these asshats. I swung around for another go, indifferent to the hail of enemy ordnance that couldn't hurt me. Again, with my sword outstretched, I gave the Fortune's Wings another pass, this time slicing through its hull. I misjudged its distance; instance of cleaving it in half, I merely cut a deep gash into the vessel. But that scar in the ship simply remained there for a moment before beginning to glow with red-hot light, then suddenly burst into flames as something exploded within the ship and fire erupted out of the scar, twisting metal along the way. The ship listed, its engines faltering a bit, although not quite going out yet.

"Yeah!" I laughed, pumping my fist, relishing in the sadistic victory over someone who couldn't adequately fight back. It felt like I was an adult beating up a child, given the disparity in power between our equipment. I didn't care; if this was a child, she had been biting my arm one too many times and deserved a smackdown. "That's what you get for trying to shoot me up, you bitch!"

My radio crackled. Actually, my radio had been crackling for some time, but in my adrenaline high, I had kind of filtered that out. "...temis...! Ar...Artemis!"

Ah, yes. In the chaos and confusion and ear-pounding blood, I had completely forgotten about Scarlet.

"Get back here!" shouted Scarlet over the radio. "The voidwaves are hitting the oversaturation point!" Her voice sounded garbled, something attributed to the increasingly concentrated voidwaves messing with radio signals.

Regardless, "voidwaves are hitting the oversaturation point" sounded really bad. As much as I don't like leaving the people who had tried to kill me alone - at least now that I had a means to fight back - Scarlet was still my only ally in this weird part of the universe. More than just the fact that she was my lifeline, I didn't want to disappoint her. Despite the fact that she couldn't fight back, despite the fact she could've fled whenever, she was still here. I really appreciated that. So I looked around, searched for the ship Scarlet was piloting. An icon on my UI allowed me to spot that moving blue spark miles away against the brightness of the aurora borealis, and I immediately turned off my lightsaber with a mere thought and began to make a beeline back towards Scarlet.

Or, at least, I would've had some strange force suddenly started pulling me to the left.

<Warning: Voidspace-reversion in progress.>

"What the...?" I muttered, trying to compensate for the fact that my Empyrean was drifting leftwards despite the fact that I was very much trying to get back to our avian-like ship. I looked to my left...

...And watched as the arkology - the giant space station I had completely forgotten about - began to stretch and shrink.

The voidwaves around us were beginning to visibly be pulled towards the center of the sword-like arkology. Streaks of green, blue, and purple - previously floating about almost idyllically in curtains of light - were now streaking towards the arklogy, which seems to become distorted as the arkology almost seemed to collapse on itself in what a misplaced three credits in a film class taught me was called a "dolly zoom".

Like a black hole, it was pulling me in. It was pulling us all in.

The Fortune's Wings seemed to struggle against the pull into the arkology for a few moments. Then, the glow that had encompassed it - the glow I previously saw when the enemy Empyreans were retreated bacek to their ship - swiftly grew intensely bright. Then, in the blink of an eye, the ship suddenly disappeared into a streak of blink-and-you-miss-it white light, a line that snapped across space for only a split-second, disappearing into the far reaches of the universe.

So yay. They went into hyperspace. Or something. Still, there was something irregular about that line, like the ship had tumbled into their jump in hyperspace. Maybe the damage I did to the Fortune's Wings meant something after all.

Still, I had more pressing matters on hand. Like how the distorted space surrounding the arkology was sucking me in, and I was suddenly terrified of the idea of being crushed into atomic matter or something. I pushed, willed the engines to go as fast as they could, going at full throttle. My Empyrean shuddered, its wings flicking this way and that against space turbulence. It's barely enough. My speed was slow compared to how I went to town on my enemies, and the Empyrean was getting slower as the suction of the arkology grew stronger.

I wasn't going to make it.

At least until I saw a metal bird-like spaceship slowly sliding into my field of vision, only a few hundred miles in front of me. Scarlet was struggling with the controls, seeing how our ship was bucking and shaking and fighting against space turbulence the way I was, but I could imagine her twisting the joystick. The ship was beginning to glow in the way the Fortune's Wings had done moments before it hit lightspeed. And as I watched, the ship slowly began to slide towards a direction that was right in front of me. The garage rig I had been jettisoned from was extended from underneath the ship, giving me a goal to fly for as I pushed the wings of my Empyrean as hard as I could, one arm stretched out to grab onto that garage rig and pull myself in.

"Get in!" shouted Scarlet over the radio, her voice tight with concentration as she fought against the voidwaves. I had one shot, as Scarlet seemed to suddenly kill the engines on our spaceship, and for just the briefest of moments, it began drifting towards me.

I flew right into the garage rigging with a scream escaping my throat. Mechanical arms instantly caught my Empyrean, locking me into place and trying to bring me back into the hull of the ship. The ship hit maximum luminosity as I heard the engines of our ship suddenly turn back on with a mechanical whine

Then, and a moment later, space around me was engulfed with light as I watched reality dolly-zoom before me for just the briefest of moments.

And just as I passed through the airlock, our ship blasted into lightspeed with a brilliant flash. Which was around the same time I finally passed out.

*****​

This finally brings us to the end of the Arkology Arc~ Sorry for taking so long, and thank you so much for sticking with me. >_<
 
It's not Scarlet's fault that she's not very helpful. She just asked someone to drive a car, they got in, turned on the ignition, and then asked what a 'steering wheel' is.
I have to agree- it's fairly clear Artemis by no means has the skills to really deal with anything that's been dumped in her lap since she woke up in this Arkology. Hopefully that starts to change one way or another, even if Artemis herself would perfer the route where Scarlet beams her back down to earth in the year 20XX or so where she belongs, with only a wild story to show for it.
 
I hope that either of the two start asking the other what the fuck is going on. Scarlet's not nearly dumb enough to not be starting to realize by now that Artemis is lacking some context.
 
I had, however, been shot at days ago with a lightning gun. The last two weeks here had taught me that my common sense and applied knowledge was not necessarily held in high regard by this part of the universe. So not being hit by that heat sword was probably a really good idea.
I fell silly we need to stress this to Artemis, but "Rule #1: Try not to get shot." :p
There is a moment's pause. Then, in a tone that did not lack a hint of incredulity: "Well, then, shoot back!"


Ah, don't you already long for the days when the most pressing thing you had to deal with was an overly insistent roomba, Artemis? :V
 
Chapter 7: Athabasca (I)
IT LIVES

So a lot of the time, my patrons get to read this update anywhere from several days to an entire week early. As way of apology for this story taking nine friggin' months to update, this is going up everywhere at the same time.

im very sorry x_x

*****​

Chapter 7: Athabasca (I)

My bed, came my first thought as I began to rouse, is too comfortable.

And my ceiling too clean, for that matter, what with the slick grooves of white metallic plates forming the ceiling above. Which the ceiling of my apartment bedroom was very much not actually made out of. And glowing, albeit extremely dimly; even for someone who just woke up, the weak light was easy on bleary eyes.

I was feeling very much too physically tired to bother with any shooting-out-of-bed drama, even if I had wanted to. Besides, something like two weeks of craziness had probably dulled my capacity for surprise and shock and awe, maybe.

From where I was lying on my back, I looked to the right: A wall in that same style I have come to expect - sleek and elegant but less ornate, missing the golden paneling and such - and an empty nightstand. The latter seemed embedded into the architecture, part of the wall rather than a piece of furniture. It's fortunate that the ceiling was glowing just enough for me to make out my surroundings without forcing me to squint.

I looked to the left: A faceful of redhead foxgirl, uncomfortably close.

Scarlet wasn't just sleeping serenely with her face close to mine; she was also in her lingerie and clinging to me as she slept, her arms wrapped around my waist. Even in dim lighting and beneath the thin sheet of synthetic fabric, she was very pretty - without makeup, for that matter - where I'm incredibly plain. Which simultaneously made me feel a little jealous and embarrassed; waking up to a really pretty half-naked girl in bed had not really been on my list of priorities. Too bad I didn't actually swing that way. It's probably something I could lord over my ex-boyfriend when I got back, at least.

If I got back. The realization that I was in space - the corner of the universe where there were human girls with animal ears, in fact, who somehow conveniently speak English - had somewhat recalibrated my sense of the scale of my problem.

And the scale of the bed I'm lying in, for that matter. I couldn't really see over Scarlet's sleeping form without craning my neck - and I didn't really feel like it - but my guesstimate put the bed at queen size, if not bigger, which would easily make it the largest bed I'd ever slept in. The bedspread was made of the same kind of alien synthetic fabric as the sheet, startlingly silky to the touch but still completely foreign to me. Still, it was almost criminally comfortable to lie in; although my body continued to be very much sore, I felt rather well-rested.

My eyes had more or less adjusted fully to the dim lighting when the face before me slowly opened her own. Scarlet was clearly the kind of girl who was a morning person: Her eyes slowly opened and fluttered a few times, but within seconds, they focused and seemed lucid, looking like they were actually looking at me.

My embarrassment intensified at the whole pretty-girl-in-my-face routine, so I probably sounded incredibly lame as I weakly offered, "Um...good morning?"

Scarlet, for that matter, showed no sign of embarrassment at her proximity to me or her state of undress as she replied almost blandly, "I'm not sure what time it is."

I didn't really have a good reply to that. It's almost surreal how banal Scarlet's response was. Actually, I really couldn't get a bead on her character. This is someone who had nearly blown out my brains with a gun, then spent days trying to ensure that I survived from people with more guns, then actually fought beside, and now she was underdressed and clinging to me in bed.

I really didn't get people sometimes.

I could get even more worked up about my current situation in bed or pretend I had anything interesting to say. So I sighed and rolled away from Scarlet onto my back; she easily let go. "We're still alive," I muttered tiredly. "Yay."

"It was a close thing," Scarlet agreed as she pushed herself out of bed, and I averted my gaze and turned away a bit more as she swung her slender legs out from under the sheets and out of bed. I self-consciously wondered if there was a bit of mixed messaging there; you had fallen asleep clinging to me in your underwear, and now you were already rushing out of bed the moment you're awake? "I'm glad you remember yesterday."

"And that I didn't wake up asking what happened?" I snorted in an attempt at sounding blithe, trying to pretend I wasn't flustered as my gaze determinedly wandered around the blank and suddenly-very-interesting ceiling. I at least assumed that we were still in the spaceship we made our daring escape from. The architecture - though different from the giant space station we had escaped from - felt familiar enough, at least. Like it had been designed by the same interior designer, just with a smaller budget. I knew all about smaller budgets.

"There are worse outcomes," Scarlet replied agreeably before rising to her feet. I instinctively reached for the sheets to pull them up a bit to make sure that I was covered...

...Which also conveniently allowed me to notice that I was in a similar state of undress, stripped down to my underwear. That I had been spending all this time sleeping next to a pretty half-naked girl. Who had been curled up to me in bed. With me also half-naked.

I pulled up the bedsheet to my face. "Um...Scarlet?" I asked. When she turned to face me in her bra and panties, I asked from beneath the covers where I could better hide my blush and didn't have to look anywhere weird. "Where are my clothes?"

Impassively, Scarlet bent over to reach at the floor beside the bed, straightening with a crumpled pile of my blouse, jacket, and skirt in her hand. "Here," she said as she deposited my clothes onto the bed within arm's reach.

"Thanks," I muttered, tentatively reaching out from under my cover for my clothes. Honestly, I was kind of glad that I did not sleep in these clothes; after two weeks of wearing them in high-stress situations, they felt grimey and smelled like piss, and I actually cringed a little as I started putting them on again from where I hid under the sheet. I wasn't desperate enough to start running around in just my underwear, though, no matter how comfortable Scarlet was with that.

I suspected it was too late and pointless to helpfully inform Scarlet that I was straight. It was definitely too late and pointless to ask Scarlet whether she had been the one to undress me and put me in bed.

"How do you feel?" asked the girl in question; Scarlet was now bending over and picking up her own clothes from the floor, once again giving me a generous view of her milky, slender legs and panties that I was totally not actually looking at.

Like I'm questioning my sexuality, I wanted to mutter sarcastically. Then I realized that chances were good she was actually asking about the fight where I passed out instead of anything else. "I could be feeling a lot worse," I muttered awkwardly, trying not to let my mind wander to any other topic as I buttoned up my shirt and slipped into my frayed office skirt. "Thanks. Though. For asking." After everything we had been through, it was actually kind of strange how grateful I was for the completely banal gesture of asking how I felt. I got over it quickly, though. "How long was I out?"

"Just a night. You were in perfectly healthy condition when you returned to this vessel." She didn't quite turn around to look at me as she slipped back into her shirt. "I'm sorry for not calling you back sooner."

I blinked. "Calling me back...?" Then the events of the previous battle clicked into place. "Oh, you mean during the fight, when I was trying to run from the voidwaves of death?" Finally presentable - if stinking in clothes marinated in two weeks' worth of sweat - I emerged from the sheets and waved a hand blithely, trying to play it cool. "It's fine, don't worry about it. I was caught up in the moment anyways, so I probably didn't hear you. And there was interference, wasn't there?"

It was Scarlet's turn to blink, stopping as she pulled her trousers halfway up her legs. "Interference?"

"Radio interference. I had problems hearing you over the radio."

"Oh." Scarlet pulled up her trousers all the way before - in an odd gesture of vulnerability - self-consciously rubbing her throat. "No, I was missing my neck at the time."

I stared. "From...the voidwaves...?" I offered hesitantly, dreading the answer but knowing in my heart of hearts that this was probably the case; it wasn't as if I didn't literally watch my arm ripple across the fabric of reality. When Scarlet nodded, I muttered, "Well, that's great, I didn't need to sleep again, ever. What the hell is the void anyways?"

Scarlet gave me the kind of look that she always did when it felt like I had just asked something stupid. Characteristically of her, though, she sounded entirely patient and clinical as she replied, "No one knows for sure. We know that it is a separate plane of reality. We think that it is what makes interstellar travel possible. We think it's where the arkologies come from and where they disappear back into." Her expression turns a little grave. "We know we don't belong there."

Well, that wasn't unsettling at all. Strangely enough, though, her words also contextualized the sense of unease I was getting from her. It hadn't been something I registered immediately due to my own confusion and bewilderment at my own predicament, but there had been an undertone of discomfort to Scarlet's words and actions, one I had ignored due to how comfortably she had been snuggled up in bed with me. Now, though? Now I got the strange feeling of how "we don't belong there" could very possibly apply to this spaceship we were on.

That wasn't unsettling at all.

The light had, at this point, brightened to a level that I would've described as "normal lighting". Both of us were finally fully dressed: Me in my smelly office clothes, Scarlet in something that reminded me of special forces in Afghanistan or something. "Would you like a moment," she asked, "or would you like me to give you the rundown on things?"

"Oh," I blinked. "Um, sure." I climbed out of bed and found my shoes on the floor beside it. "A rundown sounds nice."

Scarlet nodded and waited for me to slip into my shoes before gesturing for me to follow her out the door: "Come on."

Hesitantly, I followed her to the door, noting to myself that this was only going to be the second time in two weeks that I stepped out of an unfamiliar bedroom and into an unfamiliar hallway. The surroundings were certainly more cramped and less ornate, but it still enjoyed a sort of pristine cleanliness to it despite having been abandoned for - how long did that voice in my head say it had been? - five thousand six hundred twenty-seven years, two months, and eighteen days ago. Or had that been in reference to the suit of armor I had flown yesterday?

Maybe I was just a bit tired and more than just a bit apprehensive about waking up in unfamiliar environments. Still, taking a deep breath, I followed Scarlet out the bedroom and took one step into the corridor...

...And nearly slipped and fell as something shot right under my foot before I put it down.

With an audible electronic shriek that almost sounded adorable if it had not carried a clear hint of panic, the space Roomba - completely heedless of either myself or Scarlet - shot down the corridor perpendicular to the bedroom door, slipping right underneath the sole of my foot at the very last second. I actually flinched and bounced backwards to avoid stepping on the Roomba purely out of reflex; it would've been nice to grind a heel into it after all the trouble it had caused me. But my sense of vindictiveness was temporarily delayed as I watched the Roomba charge full-speed into a T-intersection, slam against the wall, bounce off it, spin listlessly for a moment as if it had suffered a concussion...then shriek once more as it took off down another hallway, disappearing around the corner.

I should've felt pretty good about that, staring down the corridor where the Roomba disappeared down and thinking about all the times it made me slam into a wall. Unfortunately, I was mostly just feeling concerned, if not alarmed. "What's wrong with the space Roomba?" I asked hesitantly.

"It's been like this since we left the arkology," Scarlet replied; she, too, was staring at where the space Roomba had rounded the corner, although her look of concern was substantially different from mine. Precisely how, though, I could not say.

"I...guess that's not normal?"

"We don't see servitors very often, much less catch them. And they don't remain active when removed from their arkology. I don't know why this one is still...awake." She took a deep breath. "I don't know what is supposed to be 'normal' for it."

As Scarlet marched down the perpendicular corridor in the opposite direction the space Roomba just went, my gaze lingered a little at the intersection it disappeared around, wondering if I should check on it. I decided to let it go, turning around and following Scarlet. I could afford to let it panic for a bit longer; I was sure it deserved it.

With the kind of familiarity with her surroundings that I'd come to associate with this redhead - she just had this kind of aura of dependability about her sometimes - Scarlet led me to a familiar-looking manhole, complete with a ladder, one that seemed completely obsolete; without hesitation, my redhead companion stepped into the hole, and instead of falling down, a faint bubble of light seemed to form around and "catch" her, and she floated gently downwards as if sinking in water; I awkwardly followed suit with a bit more hesitation in my step - my own experiences on humble little Earth had conditioned me to avoid falling down holes - before being momentarily consumed in a semi-familiar-but-mostly-alien feeling of semi-weightlessness. Swiftly but gently, I floated down the light and was deposited onto the floor of the deck below where Scarlet was waiting.

My full sense of weight returned, not that it stopped me from tapping the ground twice with a shoe just to make sure I wasn't going to go floating off. "So, um," I said to Scarlet, awkwardly pointing back at the magical manhole we just descended down, "stupid question. What's this called?"

It was somewhat annoying to me that Scarlet managed to say with a completely straight face: "A lift."

Right. Because it lifted things. That's so funny. I mean, technically, it lowered things, but I had a very strong suspicion that I would float upwards if I stepped back right under the manhole. Lift. Whatever. It's funny. Did I mention this was funny? No, I'm not being sarcastic at all.

Looking around, I realized that I was in the cargo hold again, the basketball court-sized belly of this ship Scarlet had sent me to yesterday, near-empty but for the high-tech garage rig at the very end. And suspended in that garage rig was a familiar sight: A sleek suit of armor with its backpiece and mechanical wings and elongated limbs. The same suit of armor - the Empyrean Guard, I was reminded - that I flew in just the day before. Rows of lights flickered on as Scarlet and I walked towards it, reflected in the polished sheen of the Empyrean. Despite all the firepower and missiles and giant fire swords I had put it through yesterday, the Empyrean looked almost disturbingly untouched, like a sports car that just rolled off the factory line.

I felt a strange sense of attachment as I approached the sci-fi suit of armor. As if there was a kind of affection a bank robber had for an old, reliable getaway car. Maybe that was the case for me; maybe this Empyrean Guard or whatever was my Millennium Falcon. I mean, technically, the ship I was on now would be a better analogue for it, but details. I hadn't managed to survive a crazy fight against Empyreans and spaceships and fire swords and voidwaves on this ship; I did so in that stupid Empyrean. That counted for something.

As the two of us stopped before the suit of armor, though, I was swiftly reminded that not everything had gone flawlessly. Beside the Empyrean was a familiar giant black sword, still ridiculously large for human hands. The blade, however, was slightly crooked, with a deep crack running across its midsection, surrounded by a spiderweb of thinner, latticed cracks. Taking a closer look, I could see what looked like damaged mechanical and electrical components under the crack, although I would've needed a closer look to tell what any of it was. Actually, I doubted that I would've recognized anything even if I had gotten a closer look.

I swiftly realized that this was the part of the sword that I had used to strike an enemy Empyrean yesterday, back when I had not yet realized that this giant sword was actually a humongous lightsaber. Whoops.

"The melee system was damaged in battle," Scarlet explained. There was no hint of scorn or chastisement in her voice - nothing approaching the kind of parental disappointment of "you just broke an expensive toy" - yet I still felt incredibly uncomfortable about this. "I...don't know if it's still operable. And I didn't want to try inside the ship."

The last and only time I turned on the lightsaber, the laser that came out of it was maybe half a mile long, which meant any decision to not turn it on inside this ship was a wise and completely understandable one. Tragically, none of my education and training had ever prepared me for the possibility that I would one day have to repair lightsabers.

As I thought back to the events of yesterday, though, it did occur to me that yesterday was the point in time in which voices started speaking in my head. They had allowed me to take control of the space station's defense guns so I could defend myself against all those bitches shooting at me, they had allowed the space Roomba to tell me to evacuate, they had allowed me to take control of this ship, and they had allowed me to fly the Empyrean Guard or whatever this suit of armor was called.

I had no idea if this was going to work, but what did I have to lose? So I looked up at the ceiling - as if there was some unseen camera or microphone hidden in those white-and-black panels - and asked, "Is the, uh. 'Melee system' still working?"

I was actually hoping - even expecting, maybe - something to reply to me, but that did not stop me from jumping a bit when a voice started forming words in my head. <Structural damage detected in void-burst oscillator,> came that calm, silky, helpful feminine voice. It was still a very strange sensation; rather than actually hearing the words being spoken in sequential order, it felt like these were actually fully-formed thoughts being shoved into my head. It was still a weird, alien feeling, something that had only happened since yesterday, and the fact that it was happening inside my head did not make me feel any better about it. Nor the fact that Scarlet was looking at me weird, looking clearly puzzled as to what I was doing and what was going on; I took that to mean that she couldn't "hear" what I was going to assume was this ship's computer. <Several key diagnostic synapses not responding. Conclusive assessment of void-burst oscillator operability not possible at this time. Possibility of successful activation based on incomplete data stands at 27%, but may result in localized dimensional collapse, and therefore not recommended until serviced by a certified Trisic-level repair and maintenance team.>

Right, got it. Hit power button, possibly get caught up in more reality-bending BS. Do not turn on. "The voice in my head says we shouldn't try using it again until it's repaired," I told Scarlet before instantly regretting my choice of words. I really couldn't blame her for looking at me with a really muted, well-concealed hint of "I'm talking to a crazy person".

To her credit, she took my reply in stride, just as she had taken everything about me in stride thus far. It was admirable; I could almost shed a tear. "Okay," she nodded impassively. "Unfortunately, this means that this ship has no combat capabilities."

In a space universe where everything seemed to be shooting at us, this was not a good development. "None at all?"

Scarlet shrugged. "I still have my submachine gun."

I winced. Not that I hadn't been saved by Scarlet's shooting on foot, but I imagined it wasn't going to do us a lot of good in a space battle with fighter jets and space armor. "Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I didn't realize the sword was actually a lightsaber."

Scarlet blinked. "What's a 'lightsaber'?"

Yeah, it's hard pretending to be surprised that Scarlet didn't know something that just seemed so culturally ubiquitous to me anymore. "Oh, it's just a kind of energy sword. The voice in my head called it a void-burst oscillator or something."

"A void-burst oscillator?" Scarlet's eyes actually widened at this in a muted mix between awe and terror. "That's not an energy sword. That's a void-burst oscillator melee system."

"Um, okay. So...what does it do? I mean, it melts people with energy, right?"

"It creates a chain of explosions that generates an unstable tunnel to the void. Anything that gets caught in the portal passes through."

I blinked and stared at this redhead with fox ears. "The void."

"Yes."

"The void that melts people into walls and randomly abducts my arm and your throat."

"Among other things."

"Who makes these things?" I demanded in a raised incredulous voice.

"The Antecessors did."

Right. The "Antecessors". That was a name that had come up multiple times in our conversations by now. "The ones who built that big-ass space station."

"The arkologies."

I lazily waved a hand in agreement. "Right, the arkolo..." I began before trailing off, noticing the plural form of the word there. "...Wait, there are more of them?"

"Hundreds more, maybe."

I stared. I stared some more. Then I felt a migraine coming on. Cradling my face in my hand - or, if you were less charitable about this, "facepalming" - I muttered, "Right, you know what? I'm not even going to try and think about it." So I tried to not think about the possibility of hundreds of incomprehensibly large space stations out there with people on them trying to kill me. I slowly felt better about it as I instead thought of the fact that I still had no idea what was going on or what I was even supposed to do in this situation now that I had confirmed that I was lost in space. By which I mean I still felt like complete and utter shit. "So what do we do now that I managed to wreck our only way of fighting back?"

I had been with Scarlet for some days now and she still remained very difficult to read. She wasn't quite so impassive, however, that I couldn't recognize a mixture of both anticipation and dread on her expression. "Let's hit the helm," she suggested.

I obediently followed along. We floated - were lifted - back up through the hole in the ceiling to the floor above, and navigated two of those pristine white corridors. I still did not have a good idea of what this spaceship's layout was like, but I had this weird feeling that I'd have to learn it, and soon.

The double doors to the helm slid silently open, and the dull lights inside the familiar triangular room gently brightened. Computer consoles brightened with dozens of graphics that I had no idea how to read. Blue holograms began to project themselves, including a digital interpretation of our immediate surroundings in space. I couldn't help but notice that the icon representing our bird-like ship seemed to be orbiting a sphere-like hologram that looked very much like a star. I glanced out the window into the night sky of outer space, and sure enough, an orange-ish star burned beyond it, rippling in a sea of fire.

So that's what stars look like, I mused. Actually, looking out the window towards the star, I thought it would be a lot brighter. Then it occurred to me that maybe the windows were darkening the view outside, acting like sunglasses to prevent the star from cooking us alive.

"So," I sighed as I stopped before the holographic map at the center of the helm, pretending I had any real idea of what any of it meant, trying to keep the tone light, "we're not lost in space are we?" I mean, I was. I, Artemis Chan, was now very far from Earth and very much lost in space. But Scarlet didn't need to know that. No pressure, right?

"No," said Scarlet reassuringly as she crossed her arms and stood beside me. "We were low on fuel, but I kept the ship near the local star for our star scoop. I wanted to discuss our options with you."

"Our options?" I repeated, totally clueless and mostly wondering what a "star scoop" was; I couldn't quite get the image of our ship shoveling fire from a star out of my head. I had already seen a ship extend an arm to whack me with a fire sword, so maybe the stupid imagery in my head was not as stupid as it could've been, under the circumstances.

Scarlet at least looked admirably calm as she sucked in a deep breath. "We are two people on an Antecessor vessel with no registration or support. Even if we could dock anywhere, we'd probably be killed for this ship." She pursed her lips before concluding, "So we need to talk about our next move, put our heads together and figure out what we can do."

Half of that flew over my head, and I was entirely ready to admit it. "Look," I sighed truthfully, because I was a very truthful person, "I have absolutely no idea what's going on, where I am, how I got here, or what to do. I barely understood your explanation just now, but getting killed is very bad. I don't know if you have any great ideas or not, but that's better than nothing, which is precisely what I have."

Scarlet regarded me for a moment before nodding in a way that seemed almost anxious despite her best attempts to mask it. Her fox ears literally flattened as she whispered, "Athabasca. I...know someone at the Athabasca shipyards that can help us with camouflage and registration. But..." Scarlet pursed her lips again, and her hesitation seemed a lot more obvious this time, which certainly made me nervous, "...it would've been nice if you had other ideas."

"Are the, uh, Athabasca shipyards bad?"

"No, not really," Scarlet admitted in the kind of way that made me think she was trying to appear less uncomfortable about the proposition for my sake. "Unless..." she trailed off, giving me a concerned look. "You...haven't ever crossed the Congregation, have you?"

"I'm...assuming that's not a gathering of aging suburban soccer moms with nothing better to do with their lives."

Scarlet gave me that impassive look that I'd come to associate with her thinking "what the hell are you talking about". "I'll take that as a 'no', then," she said mildly. All things considered, I was impressed at how well she could pretend that she wasn't thinking about how I was a complete dumbass to my face.

There was a moment of silence. Scarlet looked pensive and thoughtful while I looked like I was busying myself analyzing all the pretty holograms around me. After about thirty seconds, I finally gave up; my anxiety was getting the better of me. "So...?" I started, hoping that Scarlet would fill in the blanks somehow.

Scarlet closed her eyes and sucked in another deep breath. "Alright," she finally allowed as she exhaled. She gave me a look; and when I gave her a kind of awkward, lopsided, forced, "hell if I know anything" smile - or what passed for a smile under the circumstances - she nodded and moved towards the helmsman's seat. As she slipped into comfortable leather furniture, holograms popped up all around her, presenting her with what I could only assume were interfaces and readouts and options. "Athabasca it is."

I was not filled with a sense of confidence when it took her about five minutes to actually awkwardly navigate through those holograms and set us on a course to Athabasca.

Past the windows of our ship, outer space stretched and lit up before sending us into a tunnel of that devilish, infernal light of the void.
 
Too bad I didn't actually swing that way.

the fic literally has yuri in the title I'm sorry artemis but you're fucked

once again giving me a generous view of her milky, slender legs and panties that I was totally not actually looking at.

totally not suspicious at all

also egypt sounds nice around this time of year

"It creates a chain of explosions that generates an unstable tunnel to the void. Anything that gets caught in the portal passes through."

I blinked and stared at this redhead with fox ears. "The void."

"Yes."

"The void that melts people into walls and randomly abducts my arm and your throat."

"Among other things."

"Who makes these things?" I demanded in a raised incredulous voice

artemis: why the hell aren't these banned under the space geneva conventions


"Look," I sighed truthfully, because I was a very truthful person

and also straight, she truthfully adds for good measure


"I'm...assuming that's not a gathering of aging suburban soccer moms with nothing better to do with their lives."

this is oddly specific
 
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So what I'm getting from this is that that weapon is a portal to the Warp on a stick you hit things with. That seems completely safe and reasonable.
 
"How do you feel?" asked the girl in question; Scarlet was now bending over and picking up her own clothes from the floor, once again giving me a generous view of her milky, slender legs and panties that I was totally not actually looking at.

Like I'm questioning my sexuality, I wanted to mutter sarcastically.
Yep. Straight as an arrow, that's why they call me Artemis. Move along, nothing to see here.
 
Don't worry! I have no attention span and forget about the existence of fics i'm not currently looking at, so there was no wait! Only a pleasant surprise out of nowhere! The update was nice, perfect set up for next time! Also made me even more curius about Scarlet, still not entirely sure what her deal is, since she doesn't emote that much. I am however very certain i want to see where her "milky, slender legs" take us next!
 
The only way Artemis could be in this much denial is... wait... oh lord, she's a harem protagonist, isn't she?

Also, thank goodness she got technomancy. Without that, she'd be exactly as useless and squishy as she is outside the mech, but all the time.
 
the fic literally has yuri in the title I'm sorry artemis but you're fucked
Scarlet:: waggles eyebrows suggestively ::
and also straight, she truthfully adds for good measure
Scarlet: What's 'straight?'
Artemis: It means I like men.
Scarlet: What's a 'men?'
And then Intercessor was "All Of Humanity Is Kemonomimi Yuri Except For Me."
Yep. Straight as an arrow, that's why they call me Artemis. Move along, nothing to see here.
Scarlet reaches into Artemis's quiver and pulls out an arrow. It's been bent into the shape of a venus symbol, and entangled with another arrow bent the same way.
 
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