Artemis gave a huff of laugh and smirked at her captain's request to try and get them through in no more than five or six pieces, “I'll see what I can do, but I'm not making any promises.” She looked back to the map for a moment but got distracted by Tahlyn's hand on her shoulder, looking up at the Turian. She seemed a little flustered for a moment at his vote of confidence and the compliment, but managed her usual cocky grin at his next comment, glancing at Bronn, laughing under her breath at their exchange, “Well I don't particularly like the sound of a cross country Tomkah journey either, so no worries.”
She slid off the stack of crates, listening as Tahlyn gave the two of them their instructions to prepare to land on Garvug, the pilot giving a curt nod, “Will do.” She shook her head though when he asked if they had an questions, both of Artemis' hands going to the small of her back and push as she curved her spine back in a stretch. “Nope, no questions,” She groaned, straightening, “Except if Bronn is going to cook something for lunch? I'm hungry.”
In the cockpit on their approach to Garvug, Artemis had herself strapped into the pilot's chair, her jaw working on a piece of gum to help with the physical stress of their incoming, as well as her nerves. She looked up at the display as the course Tahlyn had laid out appeared, then glanced up at her captain when he put his hand on her shoulder, she gave a rough laugh, “Yeah, think these britches might be a bit too big for you Varro,” she told him, glancing at his hand before she looked back to the display. Hell, they might even be a bit too big for her, but she was feeling that familiar sense of fear and excitement, tinged with adrenaline.
Her studying though was interrupted again by Bronn, glancing over her shoulder at the Krogan, “Considering I don't have anything warmer or toughter than my leather flight jacket, that'd be appreciated.”
The ship gave a shuddered, and a jerk, and the display shield began to turn red along the edges with atmospheric friction. “Might want to strap in Varro,” she told her captain before she pulled on her headset, pressed a button and the muffled sound of music coming from one ear piece, the visor over her eyes lighting up with a mirror image of the display. Music helped her concentrate, usually the hard driving beat of electronica or heavy metal. Artemis lost herself to her own little world, her focus narrowing until it was just her and the ship, hands gripping the controls tightly.
They were coming in fast, the ship was vibrating from the never ending turbulence and friction, a dull roar that competed with her music and the constant beeping and screaming of the ship's instruments. The Harlot was not happy about this at all, and even the VI's annoyingly calm voice seem a little more perturbed than usual as it repeated over and over the ever shrinking distance between the Harlot and the ground. Artemis's knuckles were white and the muscles along her shoulders and arms were taunt and flexed as she kept the ship on as straight a course as she could while fighting with the atmosphere, breaking through the clouds to see nothing but ice and snow rushing up at them.
Her teeth were bared in a silent snarl as she pulled them out of the dive, her gum clenched in a bite that could probably rival a Varren's right about now. The ship dipped low over the landscape, then leveled out, the instruments finally calming down. They were flying low, like Tahlyn had instructed, and heading for the mountains as quickly as possible.
She slid off the stack of crates, listening as Tahlyn gave the two of them their instructions to prepare to land on Garvug, the pilot giving a curt nod, “Will do.” She shook her head though when he asked if they had an questions, both of Artemis' hands going to the small of her back and push as she curved her spine back in a stretch. “Nope, no questions,” She groaned, straightening, “Except if Bronn is going to cook something for lunch? I'm hungry.”
In the cockpit on their approach to Garvug, Artemis had herself strapped into the pilot's chair, her jaw working on a piece of gum to help with the physical stress of their incoming, as well as her nerves. She looked up at the display as the course Tahlyn had laid out appeared, then glanced up at her captain when he put his hand on her shoulder, she gave a rough laugh, “Yeah, think these britches might be a bit too big for you Varro,” she told him, glancing at his hand before she looked back to the display. Hell, they might even be a bit too big for her, but she was feeling that familiar sense of fear and excitement, tinged with adrenaline.
Her studying though was interrupted again by Bronn, glancing over her shoulder at the Krogan, “Considering I don't have anything warmer or toughter than my leather flight jacket, that'd be appreciated.”
The ship gave a shuddered, and a jerk, and the display shield began to turn red along the edges with atmospheric friction. “Might want to strap in Varro,” she told her captain before she pulled on her headset, pressed a button and the muffled sound of music coming from one ear piece, the visor over her eyes lighting up with a mirror image of the display. Music helped her concentrate, usually the hard driving beat of electronica or heavy metal. Artemis lost herself to her own little world, her focus narrowing until it was just her and the ship, hands gripping the controls tightly.
They were coming in fast, the ship was vibrating from the never ending turbulence and friction, a dull roar that competed with her music and the constant beeping and screaming of the ship's instruments. The Harlot was not happy about this at all, and even the VI's annoyingly calm voice seem a little more perturbed than usual as it repeated over and over the ever shrinking distance between the Harlot and the ground. Artemis's knuckles were white and the muscles along her shoulders and arms were taunt and flexed as she kept the ship on as straight a course as she could while fighting with the atmosphere, breaking through the clouds to see nothing but ice and snow rushing up at them.
Her teeth were bared in a silent snarl as she pulled them out of the dive, her gum clenched in a bite that could probably rival a Varren's right about now. The ship dipped low over the landscape, then leveled out, the instruments finally calming down. They were flying low, like Tahlyn had instructed, and heading for the mountains as quickly as possible.