Everyone is busy. Seriously, I don't think I see a single person lounging. There's a red-headed human male in a business suit directing a workforce consisting of espraksas (a very bird-like race that can properly fly) through assembling the upper levels of a tall building… I guess they don't need to worry about falling. Elsewhere, a brown-haired human is directing a group of Kasathas (four armed people that are extra strong and wise, but not so bright) in building a wall. Over there, a blond human is directing some dragonkin (lizard people the size of horses that have wings, can breathe fire, and mostly go around on all fours… but do have useful hands on their front limbs)... in hauling gear around.
…OK, nobody has whips, but it's just a little suspicious that humans are supervising basically everything, while everyone else is doing the brute labor.
This looks like a job for Ears of the City. It's a first level spell, lets me make Gather Information checks very quickly to find what people in the area know about a topic… without actually asking anyone.
Yes, it's another small surge to my chest (but so is the Invisibility spell), but it's temporary (likewise).
I concentrate on what the deal is here….
Ah. The Jubilee corporation is based in a human-dominated area, and so the corporate-assigned supervisors are all human… but the supervisors simply hire whoever can do the jobs in question. It just happens that the dragonkin, with their large size, great strength, and ability to briefly fly are perfect for distributing materials, the kasathas are well suited for construction because of the extra arms, and espraksas don't need to worry about falling, which lets them skimp somewhat on the safety gear without actually compromising employee safety: Everyone's getting paid, nobody's working with a the equivalent of a gun to their head. Which is good enough for now.
I also check the rumor mill for work, as long as I have the spell up… yes, the various eggheads brought in with everyone else regularly want samples of various minerals, flora, and fauna shipped back to the home world for a more detailed analysis… but it's hard to get shipments out here, so most of them languish in storage.
Perfect.
I hop on the local infosphere (basically, the colony ship has public wifi that hooks into a subset of the ship's electronic space), and look around… there it is, the egghead's offices address… which is a deck and cabin number within the ship. I can respect the guys that head to an alien world to see what they can find out - I'm a field archeologist myself, after all.
And yes, they have businesses here: A general store, a restaurant (that doubles as the local bar), a gym, et cetera… but only one of each of them: The ship only carries two hundred people, after all. This is basically a tiny little village working on becoming self-sufficient for long enough that the colony ship can leave and fetch more people… which will clearly take a while.
I wind my way to the science offices, slipping past the complete lack of security (these are not secured areas of the ship, like engineering or the bridge), and knock.
A few moments later, a white-haired human woman in white station wear opens the door, “What can I do for you, Ms….”
Maybe I should go back to binding my chest? Eh, illusions would mostly be better, but they can be disbelieved… “Captain Alex Abrams, and it's more what I can do for you: I have an empty hold, and no destination in mind. I hear a rumor that you have some samples sitting, awaiting shipment. How do you feel about cutting a deal?”
She pauses a moment, “That sounds wonderful. The penny pinchers never want to send the larger transport ships for our samples. But as you're already here, we do have a shipping budget….”
We spend some time negotiating, and eventually we both walk away happily enough with the outcome.
I of course meet up and load Stephanie at the appointed time (and no, watching Stephanie take a load isn't old yet), then take off to the destination port.
Most of the problems in the Drift I can easily avoid: Pirates don't generally have great scanners. Quite frankly, almost nothing has the kind of sensors needed to penetrate Stephanie's cloak… but sometimes the drift engine itself can cause issues.
On this trip, the engine drags a Paraforan along when we return to normal space. They're some beautiful crystalline creatures that feed on the energies put off by drift engines and drift beacons… and don't do well on the material plane. Worse, when they get dragged along with a ship, they sometimes end up INSIDE, and kind of go berserk, panicking due to confinement. And that's what happens this time.
But hey: It can cause pain, but it can't actually hurt me: Regeneration keeps me from dying to damage, Ferocity keeps me on my feet no matter how bad it gets, and I am straight-up immune to everything else it can do.
As I go to find the creature, “Stephanie, back to the Drift, and pump all the air from the main body of the ship into storage. I'll try to lure the poor thing outside.”
“Certainly captain,” I hear the hiss of the air pumps as she complies.
Which isn't hard: It's not hiding, and Stephanie has eyes everywhere… well, except when someone flips the switches by the doors to the crew cabins: Those turn off the holographic cameras in the associated crew cabins, now (yes, I fixed that problem). I find it in engineering… because it jumps out and slams me with some of the floating crystals that make up its form. That HURTS… and it just keeps going at it… but if I kill the stupid thing, I’ll be more girly. But hey: If it’s focused on me, it’s not wrecking things I’ll actually need to fix… and it follows. So the air thins out as I retreat to an airlock, soaking hits all the way (this thing seems like it just can’t miss… I think I need a better Armor Class… but then, it’s only damage… but it hurts…) and thankfully, Stephanie has all the air out of the living areas by the time my slow retreat has reached the airlock… which means we can open both doors.
“Stephanie, open both airlock doors, please…” when they slide open… the beast sees the drift, and zips past me out into the void.
Finally. I use the personal com connected to my neck, “Thank you Stephanie. Please close the doors, re-air the ship, and get us to our destination.”
“Certainly captain…” and she does.
It’s a bit of a delay, but after the return to normal space, we make the delivery (with Stephanie being very happy about it… and the men among the docking crew… and the station controllers… my ship apparently has quite a reputation).
And that sets my pattern for the next few months: I pick up a cargo job too small for the bigger players, deal with whatever the drift has for me (mostly by avoidance), take it to some out of the way colony that doesn't get much traffic, drop it off (much to the delight of Stephanie and whatever guys are unloading), pick up a job taking that colony's product back to a more densely populated place, rinse and repeat.
Oh, there’s some changes as time goes by… people figure out the cloak, so the joke stops working: It still works just fine for evading garden-variety pirates, ne'er-do-wells, and most space hazards. I answer a couple of distress calls; one of them is even legitimately people under attack by Graggaki (they’re mostly humanoid in form, with rubbery, yellowish skin, translucent wings, and a long reptilian tail; a garaggakal’s head is little more than a gaping, lamprey-like mouth filled with curved teeth… nasty things). As my ship isn’t built for fighting, and killing the creatures myself would feminize me faster, I evacuate the still living people to my ship via Fractured Dimension teleportation once their engines are down and they are still enough for me to pull that off… unfortunately, Patricia takes bites out of them when I do, and Greater Teleport is a seventh level spell effect. It’s over and done with me to the point where the chest change doesn’t even wrinkle my clothes… but it’s far, far more potent and lasting on anyone else. None of the men I rescue stay that way… they end up as “normally” busty women (D and E cups). Those poor women on the crew, though… there was one woman in the crew that already had natural F cups… she ends up with I cups, twin teardrops hanging from her chest, seven inches in diameter each. Nothing on board keeps her covered… although half of that is because Patricia’s root means anyone she affects heavily develops nymphomania. While we fortunately make it to port before the overworked life support on Stephanie gives out (she’s only rated for three for long-term habitation… I don’t eat or breath, which helps, but squeezing fifteen people on board means we started running out of air quickly). The trip was fun, though: Lesbian orgy the entire way. I do let them know how to fix it if they want: Hire a restoration spell, that'll repair the underlying damage. Beats dying, right?
And they can go back. I'm not so fortunate.
About three months in, though, the cloak stops working, and that absolutely breaks my stride.
Everyone is busy. Seriously, I don't think I see a single person lounging. There's a red-headed human male in a business suit directing a workforce consisting of espraksas (a very bird-like race that can properly fly) through assembling the upper levels of a tall building… I guess they don't need to worry about falling. Elsewhere, a brown-haired human is directing a group of Kasathas (four armed people that are extra strong and wise, but not so bright) in building a wall. Over there, a blond human is directing some dragonkin (lizard people the size of horses that have wings, can breathe fire, and mostly go around on all fours… but do have useful hands on their front limbs)... in hauling gear around.
…OK, nobody has whips, but it's just a little suspicious that humans are supervising basically everything, while everyone else is doing the brute labor.
This looks like a job for Ears of the City. It's a first level spell, lets me make Gather Information checks very quickly to find what people in the area know about a topic… without actually asking anyone.
Yes, it's another small surge to my chest (but so is the Invisibility spell), but it's temporary (likewise).
I concentrate on what the deal is here….
Ah. The Jubilee corporation is based in a human-dominated area, and so the corporate-assigned supervisors are all human… but the supervisors simply hire whoever can do the jobs in question. It just happens that the dragonkin, with their large size, great strength, and ability to briefly fly are perfect for distributing materials, the kasathas are well suited for construction because of the extra arms, and espraksas don't need to worry about falling, which lets them skimp somewhat on the safety gear without actually compromising employee safety: Everyone's getting paid, nobody's working with a the equivalent of a gun to their head. Which is good enough for now.
I also check the rumor mill for work, as long as I have the spell up… yes, the various eggheads brought in with everyone else regularly want samples of various minerals, flora, and fauna shipped back to the home world for a more detailed analysis… but it's hard to get shipments out here, so most of them languish in storage.
Perfect.
I hop on the local infosphere (basically, the colony ship has public wifi that hooks into a subset of the ship's electronic space), and look around… there it is, the egghead's offices address… which is a deck and cabin number within the ship. I can respect the guys that head to an alien world to see what they can find out - I'm a field archeologist myself, after all.
And yes, they have businesses here: A general store, a restaurant (that doubles as the local bar), a gym, et cetera… but only one of each of them: The ship only carries two hundred people, after all. This is basically a tiny little village working on becoming self-sufficient for long enough that the colony ship can leave and fetch more people… which will clearly take a while.
I wind my way to the science offices, slipping past the complete lack of security (these are not secured areas of the ship, like engineering or the bridge), and knock.
A few moments later, a white-haired human woman in white station wear opens the door, “What can I do for you, Ms….”
Maybe I should go back to binding my chest? Eh, illusions would mostly be better, but they can be disbelieved… “Captain Alex Abrams, and it's more what I can do for you: I have an empty hold, and no destination in mind. I hear a rumor that you have some samples sitting, awaiting shipment. How do you feel about cutting a deal?”
She pauses a moment, “That sounds wonderful. The penny pinchers never want to send the larger transport ships for our samples. But as you're already here, we do have a shipping budget….”
We spend some time negotiating, and eventually we both walk away happily enough with the outcome.
I of course meet up and load Stephanie at the appointed time (and no, watching Stephanie take a load isn't old yet), then take off to the destination port.
Most of the problems in the Drift I can easily avoid: Pirates don't generally have great scanners. Quite frankly, almost nothing has the kind of sensors needed to penetrate Stephanie's cloak… but sometimes the drift engine itself can cause issues.
On this trip, the engine drags a Paraforan along when we return to normal space. They're some beautiful crystalline creatures that feed on the energies put off by drift engines and drift beacons… and don't do well on the material plane. Worse, when they get dragged along with a ship, they sometimes end up INSIDE, and kind of go berserk, panicking due to confinement. And that's what happens this time.
But hey: It can cause pain, but it can't actually hurt me: Regeneration keeps me from dying to damage, Ferocity keeps me on my feet no matter how bad it gets, and I am straight-up immune to everything else it can do.
As I go to find the creature, “Stephanie, back to the Drift, and pump all the air from the main body of the ship into storage. I'll try to lure the poor thing outside.”
“Certainly captain,” I hear the hiss of the air pumps as she complies.
Which isn't hard: It's not hiding, and Stephanie has eyes everywhere… well, except when someone flips the switches by the doors to the crew cabins: Those turn off the holographic cameras in the associated crew cabins, now (yes, I fixed that problem). I find it in engineering… because it jumps out and slams me with some of the floating crystals that make up its form. That HURTS… and it just keeps going at it… but if I kill the stupid thing, I’ll be more girly. But hey: If it’s focused on me, it’s not wrecking things I’ll actually need to fix… and it follows. So the air thins out as I retreat to an airlock, soaking hits all the way (this thing seems like it just can’t miss… I think I need a better Armor Class… but then, it’s only damage… but it hurts…) and thankfully, Stephanie has all the air out of the living areas by the time my slow retreat has reached the airlock… which means we can open both doors.
“Stephanie, open both airlock doors, please…” when they slide open… the beast sees the drift, and zips past me out into the void.
Finally. I use the personal com connected to my neck, “Thank you Stephanie. Please close the doors, re-air the ship, and get us to our destination.”
“Certainly captain…” and she does.
It’s a bit of a delay, but after the return to normal space, we make the delivery (with Stephanie being very happy about it… and the men among the docking crew… and the station controllers… my ship apparently has quite a reputation).
And that sets my pattern for the next few months: I pick up a cargo job too small for the bigger players, deal with whatever the drift has for me (mostly by avoidance), take it to some out of the way colony that doesn't get much traffic, drop it off (much to the delight of Stephanie and whatever guys are unloading), pick up a job taking that colony's product back to a more densely populated place, rinse and repeat.
Oh, there’s some changes as time goes by… people figure out the cloak, so the joke stops working: It still works just fine for evading garden-variety pirates, ne'er-do-wells, and most space hazards. I answer a couple of distress calls; one of them is even legitimately people under attack by Graggaki (they’re mostly humanoid in form, with rubbery, yellowish skin, translucent wings, and a long reptilian tail; a garaggakal’s head is little more than a gaping, lamprey-like mouth filled with curved teeth… nasty things). As my ship isn’t built for fighting, and killing the creatures myself would feminize me faster, I evacuate the still living people to my ship via Fractured Dimension teleportation once their engines are down and they are still enough for me to pull that off… unfortunately, Patricia takes bites out of them when I do, and Greater Teleport is a seventh level spell effect. It’s over and done with me to the point where the chest change doesn’t even wrinkle my clothes… but it’s far, far more potent and lasting on anyone else. None of the men I rescue stay that way… they end up as “normally” busty women (D and E cups). Those poor women on the crew, though… there was one woman in the crew that already had natural F cups… she ends up with I cups, twin teardrops hanging from her chest, seven inches in diameter each. Nothing on board keeps her covered… although half of that is because Patricia’s root means anyone she affects heavily develops nymphomania. While we fortunately make it to port before the overworked life support on Stephanie gives out (she’s only rated for three for long-term habitation… I don’t eat or breath, which helps, but squeezing fifteen people on board means we started running out of air quickly). The trip was fun, though: Lesbian orgy the entire way. I do let them know how to fix it if they want: Hire a restoration spell, that'll repair the underlying damage. Beats dying, right?
And they can go back. I'm not so fortunate.
About three months in, though, the cloak stops working, and that absolutely breaks my stride.
