All at once, the stars emerge from absolute dark.

07:23 AM :: 8th June, 5523

A dull rumble signals arrival as the jumptender Asteraceae attaches to this brane and drops into normalspace.

From far away, Rubija system’s triple suns cast faint lens flares across the view on the display walls. Fumi looks on in quiet awe, climbing into her morning bath.

Fumi has three pending alerts on her entoptic dashboard.

1. A Spin-1/2 Shipping notification from the onboard schedule. The mess serves travelers’ breakfast at 8:30. Last chance to mingle before arrival at Dihaba Harbor.
2. Three chatgroup notifications since last update.
3. Updated torchdrive maintenance estimate from a mechanic in Dihaba.

Author's Note: I started this on a whim in the dead of night so I took a month off to brainstorm. Sorry for the wait! -- and thanks for your interest in my inexperienced endeavor.

Fumi supposes she does really have time to multitask as she undresses and slides into the water, entoptic display shifting around to follow her. Warm steam envelops her face, her fur billows out as it’s submerged, and she kicks her legs and stretches…

The repair estimate comes from the Utter South 17th Shop and it includes the usuals: breakdown of suspected damage (neutron embrittlement, heat stress, buildup of microfissures, deteriorated maintenance culture etc), parts and labor costs. The total comes out surprisingly low, enough that there would really be no question about where else she might take her ship, though the diagnostic indicates that Fumi should probably go for a much costlier full replacement some time soon. The message body includes a personal note.

Sorry I couldn’t get you back earlier, see me in the back office when you drop off! hb lunch or something? xoxo 👀 -Sicha

Fumi blushes a little, and scans over the group messages.

The water is so nice, with little wisps of steam billowing up into the air across the starfield; she certainly doesn’t regret the extra cost of flying Asteraceae. A pang of feeling, difficult to place, hits her when she realizes she no longer recognizes the constellations. Though the suite’s skymap app could probably tell her quickly, she lets the realization of distance sink in for a little. It’s not a bad feeling…

The first chat notification comes from the onboard server. It’s mostly filled with chatter in several languages Fumi can’t fully parse, but recognizes as forms of spacer creole from nearby sectors; stale memes, bickering over news, etc. There’s one post that catches her eye, an embedded link to a Rubijan social instance. Some local celebrity…? In legible dialect, it reads:

Doshé Hashoro ✅

Sorry to my loyal followers for my silence as my enemies managed to infect my selfrepair culture with a worm that left me unconscious in hospital for two weeks. However, I am more difficult to kill than anyone can possibly imagine. My mind has never been clearer. I am back.

Fumi just shakes her head and cracks her shoulder a bit.

With food an hour ahead and disembarking an hour after that, her mind wanders. She could invite her travel-mates Hangau and Saku up from second floor for some fun. There’s a couple messages from the group chat with them, mostly bantering about where to eat in Dihaba (Hang’s stomach is, in a fairly literal sense, built like a garbage disposal) and Saku getting teased. With how much of a homebody she can be, it’s a surprise she volunteered herself along at all, though Fumi certainly isn’t complaining.

Fumi could also call up her friend Lazami, in the starboard tower on the other side of the accommodations decks. She’s pretty shy and would probably take a bit of coaxing before she felt up to any sort of socializing involving Hang and her loud antics, but she and Saku probably wouldn’t mind much. Lazami’s been talking in one of the gaming servers she and Fumi are both a part of, and seems like she could use a bit of company, anyway; plus she’d probably appreciate getting to see Fumi more after months of online-only.