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Description
Artemis’ Bow, Chapter 1, Part 7
Foreword
FAQ and Rules
How To Vote
--==Artemis’ Bow is DRIVEN by your contributions, support from YOU helps to create interactive stories like this, and more! Please consider supporting!==--
My Patreon
Hey there and welcome to Artemis' Bow! This is an interactive, Choose Your Own Adventure comic + story that centers around themes of weight gain and expansion in a sci-fi universe! Artemis' Bow is directed by you, and driven by YOUR contributions! Keep up to date and remember to vote, to choose the direction of the story. At time of posting, I've completed chapters 1 through 9, stay tuned for chapter ten in the coming week.
This chapter has been edited by firefox , without whom this story would be a lot less polished, and a lot less interesting! The character Texas belongs to Apeshallneverkillape and the character Miranda belongs to Firefox. I am honoured to have been able to include them in the story! Check out my Patreon options to see how you can feature as a cameo in one of the upcoming parts of this, and other story arcs. The character Alex is property of kyofoxe94 and the character Aava is property of Zandenel. These two have been my highest tier patrons for a significant amount of time, and without their help this project would not have been possible. Thank you <3
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“Do we have cameras?”
Artemis stood in the airlock of the Jackal for the second time that day, reading the pressure gauges on the side of the wall. The Jackal’s monitors and control stations were as worn as the walls they were set into. Holographic AR displays flickered and pulsed with static, while heavy display panels were scarred with cracks. The floor beneath her looked rusted, paint flaked between her toes.
Compared to the ship they were docking with, the Jackal felt ancient. But, Artemis knew she was a reliable creature. She’d earned the right to her age.
“I do,” Demeter replied in Artemis’ ear, “shall I patch them through to you?”
“No,” the wolf replied, disliking the thought of a dozen camera feeds obscuring her vision. “Just give me a basic overlay and keep watch.”
“Always.”
The heavy sound of footfalls in the corridor heralded the approach of one of her crew. Artemis had requested the presence of her weapons specialist, Alexandra, but Aava had expressed an interest in boarding the other ship as well. As long as the crew had been, as Demeter suggested, “incapacitated”, she didn’t see a problem with it.
Artemis herself was dressed in her light combat gear. Despite all precautions having been made, she felt stronger with a good set of ballistic plate armour between her and a potentially hostile crew. She felt her hand fall to its familiar location on the handle of her pistol. It felt as natural there, as it did on the controls in her cockpit. As she turned to see who was approaching, the sight that greeted Artemis nearly sent her falling to the ground in shock.
“What the hell happened to you,” Artemis asked, the words slipping from her mouth before she could stop them.
Alexandra had dressed herself in light combat armour - or had at least made some sort of attempt. Where usually a single set of plates was enough to cover her midriff, today, a series of plates had been hastily strapped together in several rows to protect a vast gut. Even with plates in the way, it was blatantly obvious that her stomach surged outwards and sagged downwards, as though she were a mother due with child three times over. Artemis could hardly understand the sheer size of the girl’s stomach, so large that she suspected that she could curl up inside it without much difficulty. All around the sagging, wobbling, sloshing dome of a stomach, Alex was wearing her usual plate armour, strapped to her arms, legs, feet and hands. The straps at her sides bit into swollen flesh, where they’d once been able to reach around her stomach with no difficulty. The dragon flicked her tail and hid the barest of blushes as she examined a datapad strapped to her wrist.
“Just a little water weight,” she replied.
Artemis rubbed her eyes. She asked, “Can you even work like this,” wondering what was happening to her crew.
First Aava, now Alex. On reflection, it was good that Demeter had been able to disable the enemy, as Artemis wasn’t sure her crew would have been up to a firefight in their current condition.
“Of course,” Alexandra replied, as though it were hardly a question. “My bones are reinforced with high modulus polyethylene thermoplastics.”
Supporting her claim was clear evidence that the girl carried her weight with ease. Artemis felt certain that if Alex’s bones were reinforced, it was a good bet her muscles had been augmented too. Despite weighing what must have been over twice her normal weight, Alex looked as formidable as ever; as though she were ready to throw that weight at anything that might cause them harm.
Artemis couldn’t help but feel impressed.
Yet more stomping down the corridor meant that Aava was approaching, but Artemis and Alex didn’t wait. Demeter had given them the green light and the door to the airlock slowly began to part. A powerful current of air washed over them like the breath of a great monster, and the SRE’s airlock hissed open. They would be boarding near its cargo bay, from what Artemis’ feed was telling her. The ship was bathed in a harsh, white light that reflected from its metal walls. After stepping out of the Jackal, it felt like walking into a solarium. Artemis drew her pistol, taking comfort in the familiarity of its grip.
Demeter lead them slowly into the ship. They passed a shadow draped cargo bay, where Demeter’s commandeered drones had taken inventory of the SRE’s haul. What looked to be a sizable mound of furs startled Artemis for a moment when it seemed to move, but Demeter assured her there was nothing to fear, asking that she ascend the stairway to the cafeteria with haste. A muffled groan reached Artemis’s ears, but over the sound of Alexandra’s huffing and sloshing, she couldn’t be sure if the sound had come from the cargo bay or from Alexandra. She reassured herself that Demeter’s drones were so thoroughly patrolling the area and pressed on.
Artemis was the first to rise to the top of the stairwell, feeling Alex’s heavy footsteps behind her as the dragoness laboured, each step undoubtedly straining the augmented muscles of her legs.
From the doorway of the cafeteria, she noted that it looked to have been recently cleaned, its floors gleaming with the kind of polish that only lingers a few hours after a thorough washing. The instant Artemis stepped inside, she found her gaze drawn to, and locked upon, the heaving, fleshy behemoth piled up in the far corner. At first, Artemis was hard pressed to distinguish any features of the blob whose mass occupied a good fifth of the room. She’d never seen anyone so morbidly, horribly obese. The longer she looked, the more she was able to identify. A massive stomach rested firmly across the ground and took up so much space that it forced a pair of mammoth breasts to near completely obscure their owner’s face. Elephantine hips brushed the counters either side of the quivering mass, and from the way all that weight leaned back against the wall, it was clear that balance was a difficult proposition. One good push and the sack of lard would be sprawled out atop that enormous stomach, completely helpless.
Artemis spent several moments studying the blimp’s swollen, blushing face before determining that this heaving mass of lard was a female of the wolfish persuasion.
Artemis couldn’t if that was because she was embarrassed to be naked and in such a state when it was just as likely the result of the sheer amount of strain it must have taken for a body of such size to simply stand up, let alone try to move. Her arms were so swaddled with blubber that she could scarcely lift them, as Artemis was quick to realize when one tried to rise from where it was bracing against a countertop. The effort was short lived. The wolf stifled a wet sounding belch, presumably against one of her many chins, and Artemis hesitated to step any closer. Close at hand, one of Demeter’s commandeered cargo drones was apparently helping the wolf maintain her balance. Two of its eight spider-like limbs supported the wolf’s blubbery stomach, whilst another two had wrapped around her back. Those limbs were, from what Artemis could tell, the only things keeping the wolf upright.
“Gods above,” she found herself mumbling in awe. She’d been concerned that her crew was gaining weight, but found this was something entirely different. Something surreal and almost horrifying.
Her words apparently spurred action from the wolf, who began to yell into her own cleavage: “Wash you sharin’ at, huh? Whur ish she?! I’ll chear her limbsh from limbsh!”
The massive, grey wall of blubber lurched forward, and out of instinct, Artemis found herself raising her pistol in response.
But, she needn't have bothered. It became painfully clear that without Demeter’s intervention the wolf would only fall into a bed of her own, sweat streaked flab. At the whim of the AI, the cargo drone gently held her back, using its arms to pet and sooth the enraged wolf.
“There there,” she heard the AI’s emotionless voice emitted from the drone’s speakers. “No need to get excited, you know it’s not good for your heart.”
The mountain of blubber in the corner huffed and panted for a little while before apparently nodding, as Artemis interpreted by the bobbing of the wolf’s head and the shaking of the blubber. She leaned back against the wall with a heavy sigh, allowing the cargo drone to help take her weight.
“The captain is this way, Artemis,” Demeter’s voice beckoned, this time in her mind, showing Artemis the way to where the captain was apparently waiting.
Deciding not to further antagonise the immense wolf, lest she risk its health, Artemis stepped off. She heard Alexandra pause behind her, before resuming her heavy, sloshing waddle.
Once more Artemis found herself in the sleek, brightly lit metal wonder that was this new vessel. Every time she looked around she saw state of the art monitors and holographic displays that were as vibrant as they were intensive. The overlay she’d been given indicated an armoury that was particularly well stocked, but Artemis didn’t have much desire for pillaging. If they had anything of value she figured she might as well liberate it from their hold, but all that Demeter had been able to find were survival provisions and the kind of atmo-scanners one would usually find on a Wayfarer vessel.
The real question Artemis wanted answered was what had provoked the assault. If they were pirates, that was fairly straightforward, but if they were explorers, their motives were unclear. Either way, the captain would be able to explain. If she was willing.
Barely a minute had passed before the wolf found herself staring at the third surprise in so much as half an hour. Stuck in the hatch to the ship’s escape pod, wedged in by her own blubber, was the captain. She was a goose, Artemis suspected, but only because of the curved, blunt beak. Most of the rest of the bird was hidden, either by her own mass or the hatch of the escape pod. Around her, cargo drones worked with plasma torches and vibro-cutters, sawing away nonessential plates and getting a start on what would no doubt be hours of work required to free the goose.
Upon Atermis’s arrival, the AI simply stated, “Miranda.”
Demeter had informed Artemis of the captain’s name, but the ship’s logs had stubbornly refused to bear much else.
“Yeah.” The goose’s reply was calm, if frustrated. Artemis could see why; it had to be uncomfortable, being wedged so firmly, and by her own mass. “What do you want?”
“Answers, for a start. Why did you attack us? You’re in a Wayfarer ship. I’ve known pirates to take what they can get, but this hardly looks like a pirate ship. It looks corporate, to me.”
From the bright white lights to the shining metal walls, Artemis knew a corporate ship when she stepped on one. Unlike the Jackal, they were never truly alive. They were never really lived in.
“And you look like some poor fat ass who couldn’t afford metabopills,” the goose quipped, looking away from Artemis as much as her fattened cheeks would permit.
The irony of the statement was not lost on the wolf, whose eyebrow shot up into her forehead. “You’re... calling me fat?! You?”
The goose’s face turned so red beetroot red that is was faintly visible beneath her feathers. “I wouldn’t be this big if it weren’t for you deranged lunatics!” Who in all the gardens of Lyssa was piloting our drones? They’re... they’re... insane!” The words tumbled out of her mouth in a frantic burst of energy, her massive, wobbling body rippled against the hatch that she was being freed from. Artemis noticed the drones slowed down for a moment with their work, she guessed so as not to singe any feathers.
“Demeter... the drones did this to you.”
It made a scary kind of sense, as Artemis remembered what Demeter had told her.
I will prepare them for interrogation.
Artemis couldn’t decide if she was impressed or terrified, but she also couldn’t deny the results. Folding her arms across her chest, the wolf smiled. She decided to press her advantage.
“And they’ll do it again,” she cautuioned, her mouth seemed to find the words on its own. “Again and again, until not even the biggest room of your ship can hold you.” She raised a brow and lightly tapped a nearby wall-console. “Or maybe we’ll skip that part, and flush you out of the airlock.”
The threat of death got the goose’s attention, if nothing else. She frowned, and droned, “I should’ve expected this.” The mountain of adipose and feathers grumbled before letting out an exhausted sigh. “I’ve said all I’m going to say.”
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I love it is so cute