[center][url=https://fontmeme.com/fonts/sudegnak-no3-font/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/171031/b10c648088433cf11935ff0b1b0a4ef8.png[/img][/url][/center][hr][h3][color=magenta]Chapter 1[/color][/h3][color=darkgray][sub][i]January 12 2079[/i][/sub][/color]


While Artem messed with the radio Varya busied herself setting up the space heaters dragging extension cords across the floor. She went to the bay cleaning station, snagging a few rags to stuff in her back pocket. Tugging on some mechanical gloves, she opened the door to the vessel, taking a peek inside the lush interior. Creamy white leather seats, carpeted flooring, and a mini bar for the passengers to enjoy. In the corner was a large tv panel, closed currently but much like Varya’s tablet it could be opened to reveal the plexiglass screen. The cockpit was spotlessly clean, air freshener was recently used, and some heat escaped. 

“[color=B56A7B]Yeah, I’m running a diagnostic. There’s usually some bugs, leftover data from software updates, garbage memory slowing down the system. Replace the odd wire, then it’s done. These small passenger vessels are usually pretty straight forward.[/color]” She said over her shoulder before stepping inside.

She sneezed into her arm, the air freshener was a bit too strong. 

She plopped down into the pilot’s seat, bouncing a little on soft seat. She booted up the system, opening up the maintenance panel below the console. Without needing to look she patted along the inside freeing the appropriate cord plugging it into the tablet. Moving through the factory settings and menus for maintenance. A full system scan progressed, she watched Artem move to the next wing deicing it. She had a few questions come to mind, curiosity taking precedence. He seemed too easy going, like most things could roll of his back like rain with his attitude. How he [i]looked[/i] was the opposite. Like if she said one wrong thing he’d come snapping her head off.

Varya wanted to see which happened first.

“[color=B56A7B]So what stupid thing did you do to lose your arm? Take a nap in the snow trying to sober up, losing it to hypothermia or came too close to the plasma cutter? Come on, Dzagoev. How the hell do you afford that much modification on our wages?[/color]” Varya asked deadpan, sitting up and watching for his reaction.

“[color=B56A7B][I]Or[/i] you’re drowning in debt.[/color]”