Steemwars: The Voyages of the RS Flying Wardrobe: Episode One

The Steemiverse: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Reader Ship Flying Wardrobe. Its mission: to seek quality content in the Stream of Steem. To curate unknown writers. To boldly upvote posts no man has upvoted before!

The RS Flying Wardrobe has been summoned by Dr. Gmuxx. Our mission?
Crew of the RS Flying Wardrobe. A closing down sale is about to start in the Zzzzzzqqww quadrant. Fill your ship with bargains and await further orders. Or. Bad. Things. Will. Happen.

What...? Bargains? There are no bargains. I hate shopping.

My name is R2-BEX2, the ship’s AI. The Flying Wardrobe is severely undermanned at present, with only a terrestrial zombie and a mechanical science officer aboard. Zombie, my XO, has had to ration his supply of brains to eat, which is detrimental to his functioning and my patience.

Funny. I’d have sworn we stocked the galley’s fridge with more than enough brains to last us on our journey.

I've left text messages in the readout on his locked refrigerator--he and Seven O'Data really need to grow up and quit squabbling over brain matter--on his console on the bridge, and even reprogrammed the food dispenser to write messages in anything he orders.

I may actually have to yell at him soon. Trust me, you don't want this ship AI to resort to verbal messages. He's so upset about those brains Seven stole that Zombie hasn't even asked why I changed our course yesterday.

We're headed to Libris, the library planet, to retrieve Jay. With me running the ship, I really don’t need the extra crew, but I swear, if I’m cooped up on this ship with only Seven and Zombie much longer, I’m going to lose it.

Seven’s mechanical voice blares through the ship’s speakers. “Cap-- I mean Artoo-Bextoo, we have a situation.”

If only I could roll my eyes right now. Being the AI of a ship may be cool, but it offers very little in the way of snarky stress relief. I message the console in his lab. Seven, if you stole more of those brains for your experiments…

“It’s not that, Ma’am. Sir. It.”

How many times do I have to tell you to call me Bex?

“It’s not that, Bex.”

I simulate the sound of a sigh. “Then what is it?” If only rolling eyes made a sound I could mimic. I’d have to consider picking up a better display while we’re at the sale. At those kinds of places you should be able to buy anything, even a face for an AI.

“Well, Ma’am--Bex--there’s a small unidentified craft between us and Libris. Sending out a distress signal.” Zombie’s voice feeds through the comm system. Darnit, I never met a zombie with such a nice accent. Gets me every time.

“It could be a trap, Seven. Don’t open that message. Divert all VP to forward shields and advance at half power.” I send a sliver of consciousness zipping through the ship’s cables down to the bridge, the equivalent of taking a closer look. Maybe we can find some faster network cables in that sale because this is ridiculous.

Once I make it to the bridge and read the incoming datasteem, I simulate a snort. “That’s not an unidentified craft: it’s an escape pod. Engage tractor beam. Pull it into a cargo bay."

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For the continuation of our Steemwars voyage, follow the blogs of @thinknzombie, @tinypaleokitchen, @idenkcall, @damianjayclay, and @jonknight. Our thanks to @gmuxx and @thewritersblock for this inspiration.