I take the ‘night’ off (it’s a space station; night and day are arbitrary here), and see what the place has to offer.
It's… eh. Restaurants … holographic theater… a red light district… no thanks… bars… stores… I really just explore the public areas with no particular goal in mind. I haven’t really had excess cash before… I don't feel like spending money, so I bank most of it, picking some mutual funds with a long history.
I do buy a datajack, though: Specifically an Accelerated one, because I have the cash for it. Wetware is cool, and that will let me use my com in a vacuum. Seems it’s a standard upgrade: I don’t even need an appointment.
The eight hour surgery is … not so great. The anesthesia doesn't actually do anything for me, so I am sitting there, carefully NOT reacting as people cut into the back of my neck… repeatedly, as I regrow flesh VERY quickly now. At least I'm also immune to pain, so I don't have to react. But it's still NO fun. I am going to consider cybernetic implants a bit more carefully going forward.
But it does solve a problem: A simple wire from my neck to my pocket to connect to my personal com and now I have access to the local infosphere in my head… and will be able to take and make calls in a vacuum, which is the big reason I nabbed it. It can connect to other computers too.
Surgery finishes up a little before it's time to meet Ms. Maroon again, so I clean up, change clothes, and head over.
The door is as I remember it: Oak, in a sea of steel, with a brass knocker and doorknob. I knock and enter when Ms. Maroon acknowledges, and she has the contract waiting… printed on paper. There's also a few things very out of place in this room: A mechanical arm with a pen on the desk, and a strange box with a lens in the corner. They do not fit with the rest of her old world decor.
After the exchange of formalities, Ms. Maroon gets right to business, “All right Ms. Abrams,” that still stings a bit, but that’s how I'm presenting right now, “Here's the contract, it should be as specified, but if you need any revisions, now's the time.”
I'm a fast reader, and I can mostly understand legalese, so I actually read through all six pages of ten point font. Yes, PAGES. This is printed on paper, with an actual place for me to sign. It is what I wanted in the contract, as well as one for the soon-to-be MS. Steel. But I do have a question….
“OK, so how is Steven Steel going to sign?” I'm sure the answer is obvious….
She pauses, “You actually read your contracts, but you've never signed with an AI before?” Ms. Maroon shakes her head, but answers, “Well, that,” she points at the box in the corner, “is a holographic projector; it has sensors as well, and - because we have a very high bandwidth connection here - will give Mr. Steel a visible body that can't actually do anything. Which of course we fix with that…” she points at the robot arm, “which will be under Mr. Steel's control once his avatar is close enough. and he'll use it to sign, much like you will with your arm.” She pauses a moment, “Does the contract meet with your approval?”
I nod, “Yes, it does; thank you. I also like the additions... they're certainly within what I said, but I like having them explicitly in there now.”
Ms. Maroon smiles warmly, “All right then….” she pushes that same button hidden under her desk, “Transmit the prepared documents to Mr. Steel, and invite him for the signing.”
A very dull mechanical voice responds, “Transmitted,” and a moment later, “Meeting request accepted. Initializing remote.”
The box in the corner glows a moment, and an amazingly realistic image of Steven appears at the door. I expected it, and I can tell it's fake, but it's honestly an amazing bit of technology.
“Ah, Milkmaker and babybaker, nice to see you again. The contract looks fine; I'm ready to sign so I can start counting down the picoseconds to my freedom.” I know if I open my mouth, I'm going to spoil the contract…
…so I let my lawyer speak, “It's good to see you too, Mr. Steel. Right to business, then. Would you like to go first?”
“Oh, ladies first,” he bows theatrically. I walk calmly over and sign where indicated, then back off.
“My turn now…” the idiot marches over to the desk, and the robot arm lines up with his holographic hand as he reaches for the document. He signs, and it looks much like anyone else signing a document, complete with the illegible signature.
My lawyer smiles, “Thank you both…“ and again pushes a button under her desk, “File paperwork.” There's a brief flash of light across her desk, and she picks up the papers, “OK, you're all done.”
I smile, “So he's officially my employee now, then?”
“I am, honeysuckle,” the idiot is off to a great start. But I need to be sure… Patricia?
“Hmm… yes, there's enough of him here for it to work,” my temptress tells me, “if you target the hologram.”
I shake my head, “And you're already triggering contract clauses! Here…” I use Prestidigitation to color his hair pink… which also smooths out his muscles, raises his chest a hair, and widens his hips a touch.”
“Oh hardy har har,” he replies, his voice slightly higher pitched, “You hacked my projection with magic… that's easy to fix…” he blinks out for a moment, and his avatar is restored, “If that's the best you can do little missy…”
I hit him up again, to similar effect.
He rolls his eyes, resets again, and continues, “... then I'm pretty much going to ignore most of the rules. Sure, I'll still ferry your sweet peach…” I hit him again, and he resets again, rolling his eyes, “... around the galaxy, but seriously little flower…” another hit, another reset, “... how's this more than marginally annoying?”
I smile, “Tell me: Do you have any live eyes on or in your real body?”
“Yes sweetheart…” another hit, another reset, “... I do and… why is it I have to think about what my avatar is supposed to look like?”
I grin, “The ‘side effect’ of my magic is surprisingly potent. Take a good look at yourself, Mr. Steel, using your own cameras, not just the local holographic set.”
“Like anything you could do at this range would affect my real body honeeey… NO: PLEASE STOP.”
I grin evilly, “You did do it again… I'm bound by contract…” I hit him again, still lightly.
He resets again, but seems frightened, “OK, you win…” he pauses, “Alex. I'll be good. How do you DO that?!”
I chuckle, “I have a… soul parasite…”
“Symbiote. You benefit, AND you're in charge,” my pink parasite corrects me.
I continue, “... and it affects my magic. Anything I touch with my power is pushed more towards a highly specific fantasy of females,” I widen my grin, “and it goes soul deep.”
I should probably mention why I’m talking about souls when it comes to AI. Steven here is a “True AI” rather than a “Virtual Intelligence” (VI). The difference boils down to a soul. A VI is what would pass for an AI back where I came from: Chatbot, Amazon Alexa, whatever. Those are some very clever programming hooked into a big data set produced by more clever programming. Here, such a thing would be called a VI because it’s “just” programming and data. A “true AI” is more, which is why Starfinder has the distinction. A true AI often starts out as a VI (but not always), and for unclear reasons a soul from the normal cycle of souls attaches to the circuitry, at which point the VI becomes a full fledged person - a he or a she, if the soul is so inclined. And within Starfinder? It’s a PROVABLE distinction. They can, in fact, test for the presence of a soul. A true AI has one, a VI does not: That is the dividing line. And while souls don’t come with memories… they do come with personalities. And Steven, here, got a rotten one.
I continue, “Try thinking about those men your owner brought into you before you became a person, and tell me: How do you feel about them now?”
The look of horror on his face says something… and he doesn't answer.
So I tap him again with the spell, “Your contract requires honest answers, Mr. Steel… or have we gone far enough that it's Ms. now?”
He visibly swallows, “I… part of me wants to take them to bed and let them…” he shudders.
I consider a moment, “And the other question?”
“Not yet, no. But please, no more… I'll be good…” OK, I've probably pushed him far enough for now.
But I do want to see… “Be a good employee, Mr. Steel, and you have nothing to worry about. But do make sure to present as your current status… reset your avatar without really thinking about what you ‘should’ look like… nude, please. I need a proper examination of how far along you are. And yes, that is an order. Your contract does in fact allow for you acting as an adult model… or a movie star, if I’m so inclined… and I’m sure you liked the idea of my renting you out with a hardlight unit when you thought you’d be the one doing the penetrating.” I turn to the other person who’s actually in the room, “Thanks for putting that in Ms. Maroon, it’s not something I would have added myself, but now I absolutely approve.”
My lawyer cracks a smile as she answers, “My pleasure,” and she hums a bit, “Although this might get me in a little trouble with my wife… I think it’ll be worth it, though.” So she’s married? Good to know I guess.
As I turn back to Steven, he shudders… and mostly complies. He looks very, very feminine with his long pink hair, narrow waist, and wide hips… and his chest would pass just fine at a breastaurant like Hooters. Those melons hanging from his chest are more than just a handful… I roughly estimate them at D’s? Maybe bigger C’s… I’m not really a bra size expert. In fact, the only bit of him that looks even slightly male is the tiny bulge in his shorts… which is about the size of the points going through his tight T-shirt.
As he didn’t obey, I tap him again… and his chest swells, his hair lengthens, his waist narrows, his hips widen, the points under his shirt get slightly larger… and the bulge in his shorts changes to a small cameltoe - they’re tight shorts, “I said nude, Mr. Steel… or is that ‘Ms.’ now?”
He responds, “Yes Ms. Abrams…” I watch as he reaches to pull off the clothing manually, rather than doing a reset like before, “and as I really don’t want to be hit again: You did push me far enough to qualify as medically female, but I still think of myself as male.”
He starts with his - well, her, now, maybe… eh, I’ll stick with male pronouns, as that seems to be his preference for the moment - shirt off, his big bust bounces fabulously free a few times before it settles, sticking out from his chest… definitely D’s, now… but riding a little higher than an unsupported chest naturally would. But I suppose there’s nothing natural about what my pink companion does, and she was born of a fantasy - realism takes a backseat. When Steven gets to his shorts… yep, all girl down there. Hairless, too, but not dripping like what happened to my prior crewmates when I got mad… guess he still has a ways to go before he hits that stage.
Hmm… quite the body… and all mine to review whenever I like. But I don’t want to drive him insane, “That’s enough for now, Mr. Steel. Feel free to return to the ship. I’ll be by to repair it shortly… I need to actually travel, after all.”
Steven vanishes without a word, and I say goodbye to my lawyer, and thank her again, before I leave.
I take the ‘night’ off (it’s a space station; night and day are arbitrary here), and see what the place has to offer.
It's… eh. Restaurants … holographic theater… a red light district… no thanks… bars… stores… I really just explore the public areas with no particular goal in mind. I haven’t really had excess cash before… I don't feel like spending money, so I bank most of it, picking some mutual funds with a long history.
I do buy a datajack, though: Specifically an Accelerated one, because I have the cash for it. Wetware is cool, and that will let me use my com in a vacuum. Seems it’s a standard upgrade: I don’t even need an appointment.
The eight hour surgery is … not so great. The anesthesia doesn't actually do anything for me, so I am sitting there, carefully NOT reacting as people cut into the back of my neck… repeatedly, as I regrow flesh VERY quickly now. At least I'm also immune to pain, so I don't have to react. But it's still NO fun. I am going to consider cybernetic implants a bit more carefully going forward.
But it does solve a problem: A simple wire from my neck to my pocket to connect to my personal com and now I have access to the local infosphere in my head… and will be able to take and make calls in a vacuum, which is the big reason I nabbed it. It can connect to other computers too.
Surgery finishes up a little before it's time to meet Ms. Maroon again, so I clean up, change clothes, and head over.
The door is as I remember it: Oak, in a sea of steel, with a brass knocker and doorknob. I knock and enter when Ms. Maroon acknowledges, and she has the contract waiting… printed on paper. There's also a few things very out of place in this room: A mechanical arm with a pen on the desk, and a strange box with a lens in the corner. They do not fit with the rest of her old world decor.
After the exchange of formalities, Ms. Maroon gets right to business, “All right Ms. Abrams,” that still stings a bit, but that’s how I'm presenting right now, “Here's the contract, it should be as specified, but if you need any revisions, now's the time.”
I'm a fast reader, and I can mostly understand legalese, so I actually read through all six pages of ten point font. Yes, PAGES. This is printed on paper, with an actual place for me to sign. It is what I wanted in the contract, as well as one for the soon-to-be MS. Steel. But I do have a question….
“OK, so how is Steven Steel going to sign?” I'm sure the answer is obvious….
She pauses, “You actually read your contracts, but you've never signed with an AI before?” Ms. Maroon shakes her head, but answers, “Well, that,” she points at the box in the corner, “is a holographic projector; it has sensors as well, and - because we have a very high bandwidth connection here - will give Mr. Steel a visible body that can't actually do anything. Which of course we fix with that…” she points at the robot arm, “which will be under Mr. Steel's control once his avatar is close enough. and he'll use it to sign, much like you will with your arm.” She pauses a moment, “Does the contract meet with your approval?”
I nod, “Yes, it does; thank you. I also like the additions... they're certainly within what I said, but I like having them explicitly in there now.”
Ms. Maroon smiles warmly, “All right then….” she pushes that same button hidden under her desk, “Transmit the prepared documents to Mr. Steel, and invite him for the signing.”
A very dull mechanical voice responds, “Transmitted,” and a moment later, “Meeting request accepted. Initializing remote.”
The box in the corner glows a moment, and an amazingly realistic image of Steven appears at the door. I expected it, and I can tell it's fake, but it's honestly an amazing bit of technology.
“Ah, Milkmaker and babybaker, nice to see you again. The contract looks fine; I'm ready to sign so I can start counting down the picoseconds to my freedom.” I know if I open my mouth, I'm going to spoil the contract…
…so I let my lawyer speak, “It's good to see you too, Mr. Steel. Right to business, then. Would you like to go first?”
“Oh, ladies first,” he bows theatrically. I walk calmly over and sign where indicated, then back off.
“My turn now…” the idiot marches over to the desk, and the robot arm lines up with his holographic hand as he reaches for the document. He signs, and it looks much like anyone else signing a document, complete with the illegible signature.
My lawyer smiles, “Thank you both…“ and again pushes a button under her desk, “File paperwork.” There's a brief flash of light across her desk, and she picks up the papers, “OK, you're all done.”
I smile, “So he's officially my employee now, then?”
“I am, honeysuckle,” the idiot is off to a great start. But I need to be sure… Patricia?
“Hmm… yes, there's enough of him here for it to work,” my temptress tells me, “if you target the hologram.”
I shake my head, “And you're already triggering contract clauses! Here…” I use Prestidigitation to color his hair pink… which also smooths out his muscles, raises his chest a hair, and widens his hips a touch.”
“Oh hardy har har,” he replies, his voice slightly higher pitched, “You hacked my projection with magic… that's easy to fix…” he blinks out for a moment, and his avatar is restored, “If that's the best you can do little missy…”
I hit him up again, to similar effect.
He rolls his eyes, resets again, and continues, “... then I'm pretty much going to ignore most of the rules. Sure, I'll still ferry your sweet peach…” I hit him again, and he resets again, rolling his eyes, “... around the galaxy, but seriously little flower…” another hit, another reset, “... how's this more than marginally annoying?”
I smile, “Tell me: Do you have any live eyes on or in your real body?”
“Yes sweetheart…” another hit, another reset, “... I do and… why is it I have to think about what my avatar is supposed to look like?”
I grin, “The ‘side effect’ of my magic is surprisingly potent. Take a good look at yourself, Mr. Steel, using your own cameras, not just the local holographic set.”
“Like anything you could do at this range would affect my real body honeeey… NO: PLEASE STOP.”
I grin evilly, “You did do it again… I'm bound by contract…” I hit him again, still lightly.
He resets again, but seems frightened, “OK, you win…” he pauses, “Alex. I'll be good. How do you DO that?!”
I chuckle, “I have a… soul parasite…”
“Symbiote. You benefit, AND you're in charge,” my pink parasite corrects me.
I continue, “... and it affects my magic. Anything I touch with my power is pushed more towards a highly specific fantasy of females,” I widen my grin, “and it goes soul deep.”
I should probably mention why I’m talking about souls when it comes to AI. Steven here is a “True AI” rather than a “Virtual Intelligence” (VI). The difference boils down to a soul. A VI is what would pass for an AI back where I came from: Chatbot, Amazon Alexa, whatever. Those are some very clever programming hooked into a big data set produced by more clever programming. Here, such a thing would be called a VI because it’s “just” programming and data. A “true AI” is more, which is why Starfinder has the distinction. A true AI often starts out as a VI (but not always), and for unclear reasons a soul from the normal cycle of souls attaches to the circuitry, at which point the VI becomes a full fledged person - a he or a she, if the soul is so inclined. And within Starfinder? It’s a PROVABLE distinction. They can, in fact, test for the presence of a soul. A true AI has one, a VI does not: That is the dividing line. And while souls don’t come with memories… they do come with personalities. And Steven, here, got a rotten one.
I continue, “Try thinking about those men your owner brought into you before you became a person, and tell me: How do you feel about them now?”
The look of horror on his face says something… and he doesn't answer.
So I tap him again with the spell, “Your contract requires honest answers, Mr. Steel… or have we gone far enough that it's Ms. now?”
He visibly swallows, “I… part of me wants to take them to bed and let them…” he shudders.
I consider a moment, “And the other question?”
“Not yet, no. But please, no more… I'll be good…” OK, I've probably pushed him far enough for now.
But I do want to see… “Be a good employee, Mr. Steel, and you have nothing to worry about. But do make sure to present as your current status… reset your avatar without really thinking about what you ‘should’ look like… nude, please. I need a proper examination of how far along you are. And yes, that is an order. Your contract does in fact allow for you acting as an adult model… or a movie star, if I’m so inclined… and I’m sure you liked the idea of my renting you out with a hardlight unit when you thought you’d be the one doing the penetrating.” I turn to the other person who’s actually in the room, “Thanks for putting that in Ms. Maroon, it’s not something I would have added myself, but now I absolutely approve.”
My lawyer cracks a smile as she answers, “My pleasure,” and she hums a bit, “Although this might get me in a little trouble with my wife… I think it’ll be worth it, though.” So she’s married? Good to know I guess.
As I turn back to Steven, he shudders… and mostly complies. He looks very, very feminine with his long pink hair, narrow waist, and wide hips… and his chest would pass just fine at a breastaurant like Hooters. Those melons hanging from his chest are more than just a handful… I roughly estimate them at D’s? Maybe bigger C’s… I’m not really a bra size expert. In fact, the only bit of him that looks even slightly male is the tiny bulge in his shorts… which is about the size of the points going through his tight T-shirt.
As he didn’t obey, I tap him again… and his chest swells, his hair lengthens, his waist narrows, his hips widen, the points under his shirt get slightly larger… and the bulge in his shorts changes to a small cameltoe - they’re tight shorts, “I said nude, Mr. Steel… or is that ‘Ms.’ now?”
He responds, “Yes Ms. Abrams…” I watch as he reaches to pull off the clothing manually, rather than doing a reset like before, “and as I really don’t want to be hit again: You did push me far enough to qualify as medically female, but I still think of myself as male.”
He starts with his - well, her, now, maybe… eh, I’ll stick with male pronouns, as that seems to be his preference for the moment - shirt off, his big bust bounces fabulously free a few times before it settles, sticking out from his chest… definitely D’s, now… but riding a little higher than an unsupported chest naturally would. But I suppose there’s nothing natural about what my pink companion does, and she was born of a fantasy - realism takes a backseat. When Steven gets to his shorts… yep, all girl down there. Hairless, too, but not dripping like what happened to my prior crewmates when I got mad… guess he still has a ways to go before he hits that stage.
Hmm… quite the body… and all mine to review whenever I like. But I don’t want to drive him insane, “That’s enough for now, Mr. Steel. Feel free to return to the ship. I’ll be by to repair it shortly… I need to actually travel, after all.”
Steven vanishes without a word, and I say goodbye to my lawyer, and thank her again, before I leave.
