With my chest tied down, I look basically the same as I did when I boarded… or at least, the differences are subtle enough that I don't expect anyone to really notice… that's the hope, anyway.
I pull a book up on my personal comm, and begin reading near the airlock to pass the time.
The next person to arrive is Peter, our android pilot: The circuitry on his cheeks still reminds me of a rose. What I didn't catch from his profile is that he's tall - a full six feet. The pale skin, blue eyes, and blond hair all line up. He's designed a little beefy; he looks like a professional athlete… which, because he's an android, has exactly nothing to do with how strong or dextrous he is under his artificial skin.
Our pilot salutes Eric, the same as I did… although he is very crisp and formal about it. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
“Granted,” the captain replies as he returns the android's salute, and then continues in a conversational tone, “Welcome back aboard. How was your shore leave?”
The android smiles, “Not bad; found a nice lady who really liked the old frame I'm in, and enjoyed my endurance. Seems she doesn't want to risk kids, as they'd be hard to explain to her husband, which she thought made me a great choice for her night out.”
Eric nods slowly, “And when she finds out about your biological upgrades?”
Peter laughs, “We will be far, far from here, and the genetics for the upgrade aren't on file to me.” Okay, he has a mean streak, as there’s no way that's not a deliberate attempt to cause issues. He had to have it installed, after all.
Eric sighs, “Let’s hope you have a different captain when your mischief catches up with you. Officially, I'm not allowed to reprimand you for your behavior while on shore leave, unless it's actively illegal or interferes with your shipboard duties. But I WILL give you up if one of your trysts comes looking.”
The womanizer smirks, “Hasn't happened yet.”
The butterfly man nods slowly, “May you continue to be so lucky.”
Peter just smirks, and whistles on his way into the ship.
Our two gunners Zachery and Joseph are the last to arrive… and are dragging their feet… and I can't tell them apart in person, either. They're maybe three feet tall, have rat heads fit to look to scale on a full-sized human, dark brown fur… if they weren't dressed and walking mostly upright, I'd call them ROUS's, because The Princess Bride was a fun movie (and a better book).
They don't bother speaking as they come in: Heads down, eyes red, and I can smell the booze on them from here… and worse. Eric shudders when they get close, “Shower. Now. Then drink WATER and hit the hay. We need you ship-shape in case we need you to shoot something.”
The two twin hungover rats give a half-hearted “yeah, yeah” at the same time, and don't stop their plodding pace. In not too terribly long, I hear the shower running.
Well… definitely a sausage fest. At least the captain seems competent enough… although apparently he's bound by corporate rules. That's good and bad.
Regardless, I head to the bridge once everyone is aboard, because I know the schedule: It was in the paperwork. So any minute now….
“All hands,” I hear over the ship's com, “Get your lazy bums to the bridge! We depart in five minutes.”
I walk onto the bridge as Eric finishes speaking, so he turns to me, “Well, at least you're punctual. We'll have to see how well you do under fire.”
Last fight I was in, I lost. I lost big. But I'm still here, so… “I have been in a fight before, captain. I'll pull my weight. Although… this ship is at the lower end of combat readiness, sir. So most of the time, we should probably be running when weapons are hot.”
Eric chuckles as Peter makes his way to the pilot seat, “Indeed. That's why the turret has the strongest weapon on board. Most of the time, Peter is pushing the engines as far as they'll go while we focus shields on the rear and Zachary or Joseph pummel whoever is giving chase. Most of the time, we're not worth it. But we are due for some upgrades… the refit is scheduled in a few months. Until then…” he turns to Peter, “Checklist time….”
The captain calls off a large list of items, many of which are mine as the ship's engineer. But I did a tour earlier, and thus know the computer readouts are right when I call out my responses. Zachary and Joseph drag themselves in towards the end… and I do believe Eric planned for them being late, as Peter and I get to be quiet for the last stretch.
Soon enough the ship's com is on, and Peter is taking instructions directly from a station controller. The ship is sealed, the docking clamps release, we travel nice and slow to a clear section of space, power down almost every system on the ship for a minute while I divert all power to the drift engine… and we leave the real world behind.
Once again I'm in The Drift… this time, with a ship that's not part of an empire… even though the guys I'm with are very much not the best. Still… better than being alone.
“You always have me…” my pink companion whispers in my mind.
“That's a mixed blessing, Patricia,” I think back at her.
“How so?” I’m not sure if she’s poking fun at me or not….
“Well, you kind of tried to evict me by force from my own body, and while I apparently won, and big… my body, at least, is slowly becoming something other than what I grew up with. And that’s…” so many things I could say here, “very disturbing to me.”
“Sorry,” is her only response.
I look around the bridge…it's not very big. There are seats for six people: The captain’s chair (for Eric), the pilot’s seat (for Peter), and four configurable stations; two are set for gunnery (Zachery and Joseph's), one for engineering (mine), and one configured for a science officer. The captain’s chair is raised a bit, and has clear sight lines into the other five, plus two big touchscreen panels positioned so as not to block the captain’s sight, but still be easy to reach… he has one set to show some readouts of the ship's status, and the other showing our progress through the drift. The pilot’s chair is permanently mounted with a lot of screens (showing outside views), a pair of joysticks, and two lower touchscreens currently showing what's below and above us… honestly, it looks like a high end gaming rig more than anything else. The other stations are set up much like the pilot’s seat, but no joysticks. In my case, instead of showing what's outside the ship, I have all the status screens from the various internal monitoring tools - damage sensors, pressure sensors, power readings, various performance metrics, system usage, and so on.
As I'm taking some time to familiarize myself with what readings are expected for this ship while we're in the drift, Eric speaks up, “Peter, you have the bridge. I'll be in my cabin.”
Peter stays right where he is, watching the screens, as Eric gets up and heads to his cabin, which is of course adjacent to the bridge. As he closes the door, I watch as Peter puts in earplugs from his pocket while our two gunners scurry off the bridge, giggling.
I don't think too much of it until I start to hear fluttering noises coming from the captain’s cabin. Also music. And… sliding cloth? Shortly thereafter, heavy breathing and chittering. Eventually words, too, but I don't know the language. So… our captain is a porn addict. Great.
And… the two gunners scurried off when he went to his cabin. There's no direct person tracking here… but the lights are motion activated, and I have power use logs in surprising detail… huh. So… the gunners went to a room adjacent to the captain’s cabin. Huh. I expect I'm going to need to patch a hole in the wall at some point, then.
So… the captain’s a porn addict, the gunners are drunken voyeurs who don't even limit it to their own species, and our pilot gets his jollies by getting women pregnant when they think they're having safe fun… although from what I overheard, he's targeting the unfaithful.
Maybe this ship isn't the best fit. But I'm on contract, and my review isn't for another six months. Hmm.
I focus on Patricia, “I believe you mentioned that the side effects of our magic will affect others as well?”
She giggles at me, “Oh yes. And the effects will be much more pronounced on others than they are on our body. It'll possibly even affect their minds somewhat. We're the source, so our body is significantly more resistant to the effects.”
Well. At least now I have a plan if the perversion gets focused on me….
With my chest tied down, I look basically the same as I did when I boarded… or at least, the differences are subtle enough that I don't expect anyone to really notice… that's the hope, anyway.
I pull a book up on my personal comm, and begin reading near the airlock to pass the time.
The next person to arrive is Peter, our android pilot: The circuitry on his cheeks still reminds me of a rose. What I didn't catch from his profile is that he's tall - a full six feet. The pale skin, blue eyes, and blond hair all line up. He's designed a little beefy; he looks like a professional athlete… which, because he's an android, has exactly nothing to do with how strong or dextrous he is under his artificial skin.
Our pilot salutes Eric, the same as I did… although he is very crisp and formal about it. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
“Granted,” the captain replies as he returns the android's salute, and then continues in a conversational tone, “Welcome back aboard. How was your shore leave?”
The android smiles, “Not bad; found a nice lady who really liked the old frame I'm in, and enjoyed my endurance. Seems she doesn't want to risk kids, as they'd be hard to explain to her husband, which she thought made me a great choice for her night out.”
Eric nods slowly, “And when she finds out about your biological upgrades?”
Peter laughs, “We will be far, far from here, and the genetics for the upgrade aren't on file to me.” Okay, he has a mean streak, as there’s no way that's not a deliberate attempt to cause issues. He had to have it installed, after all.
Eric sighs, “Let’s hope you have a different captain when your mischief catches up with you. Officially, I'm not allowed to reprimand you for your behavior while on shore leave, unless it's actively illegal or interferes with your shipboard duties. But I WILL give you up if one of your trysts comes looking.”
The womanizer smirks, “Hasn't happened yet.”
The butterfly man nods slowly, “May you continue to be so lucky.”
Peter just smirks, and whistles on his way into the ship.
Our two gunners Zachery and Joseph are the last to arrive… and are dragging their feet… and I can't tell them apart in person, either. They're maybe three feet tall, have rat heads fit to look to scale on a full-sized human, dark brown fur… if they weren't dressed and walking mostly upright, I'd call them ROUS's, because The Princess Bride was a fun movie (and a better book).
They don't bother speaking as they come in: Heads down, eyes red, and I can smell the booze on them from here… and worse. Eric shudders when they get close, “Shower. Now. Then drink WATER and hit the hay. We need you ship-shape in case we need you to shoot something.”
The two twin hungover rats give a half-hearted “yeah, yeah” at the same time, and don't stop their plodding pace. In not too terribly long, I hear the shower running.
Well… definitely a sausage fest. At least the captain seems competent enough… although apparently he's bound by corporate rules. That's good and bad.
Regardless, I head to the bridge once everyone is aboard, because I know the schedule: It was in the paperwork. So any minute now….
“All hands,” I hear over the ship's com, “Get your lazy bums to the bridge! We depart in five minutes.”
I walk onto the bridge as Eric finishes speaking, so he turns to me, “Well, at least you're punctual. We'll have to see how well you do under fire.”
Last fight I was in, I lost. I lost big. But I'm still here, so… “I have been in a fight before, captain. I'll pull my weight. Although… this ship is at the lower end of combat readiness, sir. So most of the time, we should probably be running when weapons are hot.”
Eric chuckles as Peter makes his way to the pilot seat, “Indeed. That's why the turret has the strongest weapon on board. Most of the time, Peter is pushing the engines as far as they'll go while we focus shields on the rear and Zachary or Joseph pummel whoever is giving chase. Most of the time, we're not worth it. But we are due for some upgrades… the refit is scheduled in a few months. Until then…” he turns to Peter, “Checklist time….”
The captain calls off a large list of items, many of which are mine as the ship's engineer. But I did a tour earlier, and thus know the computer readouts are right when I call out my responses. Zachary and Joseph drag themselves in towards the end… and I do believe Eric planned for them being late, as Peter and I get to be quiet for the last stretch.
Soon enough the ship's com is on, and Peter is taking instructions directly from a station controller. The ship is sealed, the docking clamps release, we travel nice and slow to a clear section of space, power down almost every system on the ship for a minute while I divert all power to the drift engine… and we leave the real world behind.
Once again I'm in The Drift… this time, with a ship that's not part of an empire… even though the guys I'm with are very much not the best. Still… better than being alone.
“You always have me…” my pink companion whispers in my mind.
“That's a mixed blessing, Patricia,” I think back at her.
“How so?” I’m not sure if she’s poking fun at me or not….
“Well, you kind of tried to evict me by force from my own body, and while I apparently won, and big… my body, at least, is slowly becoming something other than what I grew up with. And that’s…” so many things I could say here, “very disturbing to me.”
“Sorry,” is her only response.
I look around the bridge…it's not very big. There are seats for six people: The captain’s chair (for Eric), the pilot’s seat (for Peter), and four configurable stations; two are set for gunnery (Zachery and Joseph's), one for engineering (mine), and one configured for a science officer. The captain’s chair is raised a bit, and has clear sight lines into the other five, plus two big touchscreen panels positioned so as not to block the captain’s sight, but still be easy to reach… he has one set to show some readouts of the ship's status, and the other showing our progress through the drift. The pilot’s chair is permanently mounted with a lot of screens (showing outside views), a pair of joysticks, and two lower touchscreens currently showing what's below and above us… honestly, it looks like a high end gaming rig more than anything else. The other stations are set up much like the pilot’s seat, but no joysticks. In my case, instead of showing what's outside the ship, I have all the status screens from the various internal monitoring tools - damage sensors, pressure sensors, power readings, various performance metrics, system usage, and so on.
As I'm taking some time to familiarize myself with what readings are expected for this ship while we're in the drift, Eric speaks up, “Peter, you have the bridge. I'll be in my cabin.”
Peter stays right where he is, watching the screens, as Eric gets up and heads to his cabin, which is of course adjacent to the bridge. As he closes the door, I watch as Peter puts in earplugs from his pocket while our two gunners scurry off the bridge, giggling.
I don't think too much of it until I start to hear fluttering noises coming from the captain’s cabin. Also music. And… sliding cloth? Shortly thereafter, heavy breathing and chittering. Eventually words, too, but I don't know the language. So… our captain is a porn addict. Great.
And… the two gunners scurried off when he went to his cabin. There's no direct person tracking here… but the lights are motion activated, and I have power use logs in surprising detail… huh. So… the gunners went to a room adjacent to the captain’s cabin. Huh. I expect I'm going to need to patch a hole in the wall at some point, then.
So… the captain’s a porn addict, the gunners are drunken voyeurs who don't even limit it to their own species, and our pilot gets his jollies by getting women pregnant when they think they're having safe fun… although from what I overheard, he's targeting the unfaithful.
Maybe this ship isn't the best fit. But I'm on contract, and my review isn't for another six months. Hmm.
I focus on Patricia, “I believe you mentioned that the side effects of our magic will affect others as well?”
She giggles at me, “Oh yes. And the effects will be much more pronounced on others than they are on our body. It'll possibly even affect their minds somewhat. We're the source, so our body is significantly more resistant to the effects.”
Well. At least now I have a plan if the perversion gets focused on me….
