Chapter Text
UNKNOWN OBJECT DETECTED
Betty was repairing the fuse to the switch box behind the seat of the cockpit when a notification blinked onto the clear screen of her goggles. She sat up and leaned over to the main ship console, pulling her goggles up onto her forehead.
“Full report,” she instructed the console, sitting down in the pilot seat.
On the overhead screen, the computer highlighted a small area in view and enhanced the image. Even as the computer started to read out the report, Betty could see that it was some sort of carrier ship some distance away.
LONG DISTANCE TRANSPORT UNIT. POWER RESERVES DOWN TO CRITICAL LEVEL. CURRENTLY IN STASIS LIFE SUPPORT MODE.
“There are people on board?”
ONE LIFE CONFIRMED.
Betty stood up and prepared her gear, making sure she had a restocked first aid kit and her pistol. “Where did it even come from?”
UNIT WAS MANUFACTURED IN THE S REGION. ORIGINAL FLIGHT ORIGINATION UNCONFIRMED.
Betty whistled to herself. That region of space was several years of space flight away, even with the most advanced ship tech. It was also known for being a largely ungoverned area that was prone to regular skirmishes between different gangs fighting for power.
“Prepare to approach and dock, but give me a warning if there’s any activity.”
COMMENCING APPROACH.
Betty put on her protective space suit and waited in position by the side entry as the ship docked.
This situation was unusual, but nothing Betty wasn’t comfortable handling.
On most days, Betty’s work was more akin to that of a bounty hunter, which was ironic, considering she had a pretty considerable bounty on her own head. As long as you knew the right people, that was something that you could work around.
For the moment, Betty was a bit strapped for cash, so she had picked up a few shifts clearing out debris from space. Clean up work paid pretty well around the colonies if you already had your own ship capable of the work. The added benefit was that you could sell any decent scrap you collected. She could make a pretty penny selling a cargo ship, especially if it was in good enough condition for her to make the repairs herself, but a person on board made a payout less likely. Either way, she wasn’t about to just leave someone floating in space.
Betty boarded the cargo ship with her pistol in hand, and clicked on the flashlight on the side of her helmet. Her own ship fed in data to her helmet screen, giving her its own reads of her surroundings. The inside of the cargo ship looked like it had been shot out from the inside. Everything was in disarray, chairs completely on their side, open supplies across the floor. Betty stepped through it carefully, following the small steady green light that marked the sign of life.
She found the source in a small space next to the large cargo area. According to her read-outs all of the ship’s remaining power had been fed into this area.
It was a Cryogenic sleep chamber. All of the cryogenic pods were empty save one. Near the back a small light illuminated the frozen figure of a young man. He was still dressed in long pants and a jacket, which wasn’t typical protocol for cryogenic sleep. She suspected he had been placed in the chamber as a last resort. There were small bullet holes in his jacket, and blood was spattered across his shirt and neck.
Next to the pod was a small screen with status readings. Despite the blood, the system reported that he was in healthy condition.
With the ship low on power, Betty wouldn’t be able to run a thawing procedure. She would have to tow the cargo ship to a place with cryogenic tech she could use, or find a way to recharge the machine within the ship itself. A machine that might not even still function properly outside of its stasis state.
Either way would be expensive. She knew a friendly, if shady, place she would borrow some tech, but it would drain most of her ships resources to tow the ship there.
With a sigh, Betty headed back to her own ship to set up the magnet to tow the cargo ship. Saving a life always turned into a major expense.
Veronica was happy to see her when she finally made it to La Bonne Nuit, a decadent space port that functioned occasionally as a black market auction house.
“B! I’ve missed you!” She pulled Betty into a hug and kissed her cheek. As always, Veronica was dressed to the nines in an elegant black dress with a large necklace of diamonds around her neck.
“Hey, V.” Betty glanced around the parlor. “Any chance you could lend me Pop for a few hours? I have a need for his… expertise.”
“Oh,” Veronica said, her hands still holding Betty’s arms. “Of course, anything for you, B. Did you find something interesting?”
“That’s one way to put it,” she said.
Pop’s specific expertise was, really, a bit of everything. That was because over the course of his time as auction house appraiser, he had seen just about everything. Some of the things sold through the market required cryogenic sleep, the exotic bird or what not, so La Bonne Nuit had its own state of the art tech.
After Betty loaded the cargo ship into the port’s secret hanger, Pop helped Betty disconnect the frozen pod from its place in the cryogenic chamber and transfer it to La Bonne Nuit’s unit.
Pop adjusted his glasses as he took a look at the new system’s readings. “Poor young man has been iced for nearly 5 years. You’d have to dig into that ships console to figure out where he’s come from, but the S Region sounds about right.”
Betty nodded in agreement.
“Thawing out is going to be a bit rough for him,” Pop continued, “He’ll need some time to adjust.”
This time Betty sighed. She tried not to add up the cost of taking care of another person on top of everything else. This man was going to let her sell his ship for money, whether he liked it or not.
“Are you ready?” Pop asked her. “I’ll be running the machine logistics, so it’ll be up to you to help him out.”
Betty gave a resolute nod, and took a position next to the frozen pod.
The thawing process was quick, less than a minute at most. Betty watched as steam rose off the ice, the shape of his body becoming more clear, like a statue being carved from stone. When the ice was completely gone, and the temperature had hit a stable point, the doors of the pod opened, and the young man fell forward.
Betty caught him before he could fall, and lowered him to the ground. She surprised herself by instinctively setting him into her lap so his head was resting against her chest. He blinked his eyes open, and looked around frantically. He was shaking like a leaf.
“You’re okay,” she told him. “You’re safe.”
He reached his arms up, putting his hands on her arms where they were wrapped around his chest. When he looked up at her face, he stilled for a moment, though his body was still shaking.
“I’m Betty,” she smiled at him. His eyes were a brilliant blue, and his expression had changed from one of fright to a vivid curiosity. “What’s your name?”
He swallowed, and when he spoke his words came out in rasp, “Jughead. My name’s Jughead.”