Chuckling and shaking my head at Stephanie’s new form, I head down to her, and check her schematics over the com as I go… oh, three airlocks, now. Upper lips (standard sized), lower lips (cargo sized), and rosebud (standard sized). Looks like the robotic appendage became her arms properly… she’ll be able to move now, nice… the main thrusters are in the feet… looks like the Industry and the Fuel Synthesizer ended up about where the stomach would be in a humanoid, and there’s routing from the ‘mouth’ airlock, which means… heh. She’ll be “eating” now, using her hands, much like a humanoid would. The empty cargo bays are in her oversized caboose, that works well with the cargo ramp… legs bend to form landing gear… most crew quarters are in the rib cage… the bridge is in the head, along with the main computer and the captain’s quarters… the brains, I suppose … power core about where the heart would go… OK, I can work with this. Debating which entry is the least undignified, I end up looking deeply into her eyes (well, eye: Those viewing ports are big) and teleporting inside.
And yes, she's hot pink inside now.
Stephanie being bigger doesn't change our routine… the other upgrades do, though: We're now spec'd out for exploratory work. So after I dock her baby bakery to the station for a while, making sure to keep her well stimulated as I monitor data throughput to make sure she takes a nice big load, I get a contract for mapping a system in the Vast - the region of space only very sparsely populated by Drift beacons, making travel times quite long, simply due to the nature of how Drift travel works (distance isn't particularly relevant unless you're doing an in-system hop or trying to go beyond the rim of the galaxy: It's all about the density of Drift beacons in proximity to the destination).
Stephanie plans the flight… it's a twenty-seven day trip… Stephanie will be fine: She can ‘eat’ now if she happens to run low on reaction mass or fuel, and I can run the Industry if we happen to run low on UPB's for repairs or crafting.
So we head out, and settle into a routine: I spend eight hours making UPB's (I have that flexible skill, and a few spells boost my Profession check), eight keeping Stephanie properly maintained (including checking for a baby… the power drain shouldn't be a problem this time: The construction peaked at just twenty PCU last time around during the worst of it, and we have twenty-six spare PCU capacity on this power core… more if we're not actively synthesizing fuel or manufacturing UPB's), and eight hours goofing off - watching the entertainment archives (from the bath, I still haven't updated the selection… and yes, I cast a few spells on myself for the duration so I can… mostly properly enjoy them), chatting with Stephanie, or watching the colors of the drift out the windows… often using Stephanie’s eyes by way of the consciousness uplink drive. I find she actually has quite a range of movement: Her arms work normally (if a little slowly due to the distances involved), and her legs can swing around as part of steering… even her neck works correctly; she's big and massive, but controlling her directly like that is basically like BEING a slow-moving woman with absurd assets).
About two weeks into our flight, I am itching for some company, and we hear a distress beacon… of a sort; Stephanie pipes the clip to me: “Is anyone in range? This is day thirty-four of being stranded in this dumb oma… it saved me from eventual suffocation when it ate me and I made it into the second stomach, but while I can survive here indefinitely… why do I even bother? I can't DO anything…” it's a man's voice.
Fun. Let's be sure… “Stephanie, get close enough for active scans and hold relative position; maintain stealth, I want a good look with the scanners….”
“Aye captain,” she obediently complies as I climb out of the bath, dry off, and start getting dressed… no rush on this one, so I take my time, hook my Datajack into the ship, and use Divine Insight on my check to examine the situation.
Between the sensors, the spell, my ranks, and the bonus from the datajack I take ten and get a result of forty one... wqhich tells me everything the sensors can. Yes, it's a living oma, with one Strix inside the Oma's second stomach. Hmm… okay, the Oma provides air, I wonder how he's handling food and keeping his com powered? I'll have to ask him.
And yes, I'll see about getting him out of there. I'm already hooked into Stephanie, so I use that for the coms, “This is Captain Alex Abrams of the Stephanie Steel, full AI starship; we have a long flight and a lot of boring survey work ahead of us, but will be heading back to Absalom Station after. If you're ready to cut yourself out, we have some robotic arms for catching you.”
The reply comes quickly, “Finally! This is Ebonwing, and I will HAPPILY join you for the trip… but I'll leave the stinky way. I don't want to hurt the poor animal, she DID save my skin.”
It's a male, actually, scans covered that, “Fair enough, Ebonwing. Come on out, we'll load you.”
“Be right there….” he keeps the com open.
I hardly need to give the order, “Stephanie, bring us about, we know where he'll be; catch him and bring him aboard… I'll meet him at the mouth airlock; keep the cloak up for now, please.”
“Yes Captain,” my ship hastens to comply as I disconnect and head down to my ship's upper lips.
When I get there, Stephanie already has him between the inner and outer doors, and he's waiting patiently while the air cycles in.
He's definitely a Strix; Ebon feathers, massive wings, slightly clawed hands… but basically human, otherwise. Oh, sure, he has dark gray feathers for hair, eyes that don't have pupils or move in his head but… he's a muscular human with wings and a mask, basically: Just like most science fiction or fantasy races, really. A very muscular human. He's a good six feet tall and definitely works out. He carries his armor like it's nothing… which is normal; winged flyers don't exactly favor heavy armor. The thick, durable splotchy gray fabric of an Estex suit clings tightly to his muscles, covering him from the neck down (except his wings, which are left free), while the faint shimmer of a specialized force field covers his head, allowing him to breathe normally. I can see the wiring of various add-ons to the Estex suit running down his legs, along his arms, and to his back, as well as some pouches at his belt… which also holds two sidearms. He has a scar over his left eye.
He smiles at me as I open the inner airlock door and the force field covering his head dissipates, “Ah, finally, recycled air! Are you the captain? I didn’t have a visual, obviously.”
I nod, “Captain Alex Abrams, at your service,” I bow theatrically.
He reaches out to shake my hand, “Ebonwing, nice to properly meet you. Why so pink?”
I chuckle, “That's because of Stephanie, the ship AI. And she is a FULL AI, working for me under contract.”
He nods, “I see… any other crew?”
Sense Motive is telling me that question is a bit pointed, but it's not like I'll be able to hide the fact from him, “Nope, it's just Stephanie and myself. I have the captain’s cabin, there's five spare crew quarters: I'm sure Stephanie can direct you to one.”
“So it's just the two of us, then?” His smile is turning predatory. Wonderful, a pirate.
“The three of us,” Stephanie corrects over the ship's com.
“Right, three,” he doesn't seem concerned, “So … theoretically…” Yeah, I'm going to have to space this guy, “what could she do if I shot you?”
I sigh, “Oh… not much, assuming your armor has more air in there.”
He grins, “Great… then to make this all nice and official, I challenge you for command of the ship!”
… lovely. As part of optimizing my feats, I picked the “Oath of Honor” drawback from Spheres. I went with Tribal, because there's very little that reduces the associated honor score that's out of my control. Unfortunately, a direct challenge… if I decline, I lose honor… and I've been coasting on the level up minimum, which means declining would drop me below my required score, and I'd be Sickened until I fixed it. And that's no fun at all.
But at least I'm the challenged party… “And what do I get when you lose?”
He laughs, “If I lose, I die. So everything I have.”
I shake my head, “Well, let's do this in the cargo bay… less damage when one of us misses.”
He laughs, “Oh, I'm not going to miss.”
I shrug and say, “Follow me…” and turn my back on him… which he immediately shoots.
Ah, sonic damage. Sadly, my eidolon suit is currently rather tricky to fix up at this level. If it goes all the way down I can resummon it in 24 hours at half health… and for now, that's my only option. I'll need to fix that soon.
For now, I pop Protection From Energy (Sonic) on myself as I turn around… which doesn't quite push me up a cup, I have a bit more leeway, “Do keep it in your pants until we're actually there. Killing you isn't my first choice, but you wanted the fight to the death, so….” I shrug.
He's very quiet on the way to the hold.
Chuckling and shaking my head at Stephanie’s new form, I head down to her, and check her schematics over the com as I go… oh, three airlocks, now. Upper lips (standard sized), lower lips (cargo sized), and rosebud (standard sized). Looks like the robotic appendage became her arms properly… she’ll be able to move now, nice… the main thrusters are in the feet… looks like the Industry and the Fuel Synthesizer ended up about where the stomach would be in a humanoid, and there’s routing from the ‘mouth’ airlock, which means… heh. She’ll be “eating” now, using her hands, much like a humanoid would. The empty cargo bays are in her oversized caboose, that works well with the cargo ramp… legs bend to form landing gear… most crew quarters are in the rib cage… the bridge is in the head, along with the main computer and the captain’s quarters… the brains, I suppose … power core about where the heart would go… OK, I can work with this. Debating which entry is the least undignified, I end up looking deeply into her eyes (well, eye: Those viewing ports are big) and teleporting inside.
And yes, she's hot pink inside now.
Stephanie being bigger doesn't change our routine… the other upgrades do, though: We're now spec'd out for exploratory work. So after I dock her baby bakery to the station for a while, making sure to keep her well stimulated as I monitor data throughput to make sure she takes a nice big load, I get a contract for mapping a system in the Vast - the region of space only very sparsely populated by Drift beacons, making travel times quite long, simply due to the nature of how Drift travel works (distance isn't particularly relevant unless you're doing an in-system hop or trying to go beyond the rim of the galaxy: It's all about the density of Drift beacons in proximity to the destination).
Stephanie plans the flight… it's a twenty-seven day trip… Stephanie will be fine: She can ‘eat’ now if she happens to run low on reaction mass or fuel, and I can run the Industry if we happen to run low on UPB's for repairs or crafting.
So we head out, and settle into a routine: I spend eight hours making UPB's (I have that flexible skill, and a few spells boost my Profession check), eight keeping Stephanie properly maintained (including checking for a baby… the power drain shouldn't be a problem this time: The construction peaked at just twenty PCU last time around during the worst of it, and we have twenty-six spare PCU capacity on this power core… more if we're not actively synthesizing fuel or manufacturing UPB's), and eight hours goofing off - watching the entertainment archives (from the bath, I still haven't updated the selection… and yes, I cast a few spells on myself for the duration so I can… mostly properly enjoy them), chatting with Stephanie, or watching the colors of the drift out the windows… often using Stephanie’s eyes by way of the consciousness uplink drive. I find she actually has quite a range of movement: Her arms work normally (if a little slowly due to the distances involved), and her legs can swing around as part of steering… even her neck works correctly; she's big and massive, but controlling her directly like that is basically like BEING a slow-moving woman with absurd assets).
About two weeks into our flight, I am itching for some company, and we hear a distress beacon… of a sort; Stephanie pipes the clip to me: “Is anyone in range? This is day thirty-four of being stranded in this dumb oma… it saved me from eventual suffocation when it ate me and I made it into the second stomach, but while I can survive here indefinitely… why do I even bother? I can't DO anything…” it's a man's voice.
Fun. Let's be sure… “Stephanie, get close enough for active scans and hold relative position; maintain stealth, I want a good look with the scanners….”
“Aye captain,” she obediently complies as I climb out of the bath, dry off, and start getting dressed… no rush on this one, so I take my time, hook my Datajack into the ship, and use Divine Insight on my check to examine the situation.
Between the sensors, the spell, my ranks, and the bonus from the datajack I take ten and get a result of forty one... wqhich tells me everything the sensors can. Yes, it's a living oma, with one Strix inside the Oma's second stomach. Hmm… okay, the Oma provides air, I wonder how he's handling food and keeping his com powered? I'll have to ask him.
And yes, I'll see about getting him out of there. I'm already hooked into Stephanie, so I use that for the coms, “This is Captain Alex Abrams of the Stephanie Steel, full AI starship; we have a long flight and a lot of boring survey work ahead of us, but will be heading back to Absalom Station after. If you're ready to cut yourself out, we have some robotic arms for catching you.”
The reply comes quickly, “Finally! This is Ebonwing, and I will HAPPILY join you for the trip… but I'll leave the stinky way. I don't want to hurt the poor animal, she DID save my skin.”
It's a male, actually, scans covered that, “Fair enough, Ebonwing. Come on out, we'll load you.”
“Be right there….” he keeps the com open.
I hardly need to give the order, “Stephanie, bring us about, we know where he'll be; catch him and bring him aboard… I'll meet him at the mouth airlock; keep the cloak up for now, please.”
“Yes Captain,” my ship hastens to comply as I disconnect and head down to my ship's upper lips.
When I get there, Stephanie already has him between the inner and outer doors, and he's waiting patiently while the air cycles in.
He's definitely a Strix; Ebon feathers, massive wings, slightly clawed hands… but basically human, otherwise. Oh, sure, he has dark gray feathers for hair, eyes that don't have pupils or move in his head but… he's a muscular human with wings and a mask, basically: Just like most science fiction or fantasy races, really. A very muscular human. He's a good six feet tall and definitely works out. He carries his armor like it's nothing… which is normal; winged flyers don't exactly favor heavy armor. The thick, durable splotchy gray fabric of an Estex suit clings tightly to his muscles, covering him from the neck down (except his wings, which are left free), while the faint shimmer of a specialized force field covers his head, allowing him to breathe normally. I can see the wiring of various add-ons to the Estex suit running down his legs, along his arms, and to his back, as well as some pouches at his belt… which also holds two sidearms. He has a scar over his left eye.
He smiles at me as I open the inner airlock door and the force field covering his head dissipates, “Ah, finally, recycled air! Are you the captain? I didn’t have a visual, obviously.”
I nod, “Captain Alex Abrams, at your service,” I bow theatrically.
He reaches out to shake my hand, “Ebonwing, nice to properly meet you. Why so pink?”
I chuckle, “That's because of Stephanie, the ship AI. And she is a FULL AI, working for me under contract.”
He nods, “I see… any other crew?”
Sense Motive is telling me that question is a bit pointed, but it's not like I'll be able to hide the fact from him, “Nope, it's just Stephanie and myself. I have the captain’s cabin, there's five spare crew quarters: I'm sure Stephanie can direct you to one.”
“So it's just the two of us, then?” His smile is turning predatory. Wonderful, a pirate.
“The three of us,” Stephanie corrects over the ship's com.
“Right, three,” he doesn't seem concerned, “So … theoretically…” Yeah, I'm going to have to space this guy, “what could she do if I shot you?”
I sigh, “Oh… not much, assuming your armor has more air in there.”
He grins, “Great… then to make this all nice and official, I challenge you for command of the ship!”
… lovely. As part of optimizing my feats, I picked the “Oath of Honor” drawback from Spheres. I went with Tribal, because there's very little that reduces the associated honor score that's out of my control. Unfortunately, a direct challenge… if I decline, I lose honor… and I've been coasting on the level up minimum, which means declining would drop me below my required score, and I'd be Sickened until I fixed it. And that's no fun at all.
But at least I'm the challenged party… “And what do I get when you lose?”
He laughs, “If I lose, I die. So everything I have.”
I shake my head, “Well, let's do this in the cargo bay… less damage when one of us misses.”
He laughs, “Oh, I'm not going to miss.”
I shrug and say, “Follow me…” and turn my back on him… which he immediately shoots.
Ah, sonic damage. Sadly, my eidolon suit is currently rather tricky to fix up at this level. If it goes all the way down I can resummon it in 24 hours at half health… and for now, that's my only option. I'll need to fix that soon.
For now, I pop Protection From Energy (Sonic) on myself as I turn around… which doesn't quite push me up a cup, I have a bit more leeway, “Do keep it in your pants until we're actually there. Killing you isn't my first choice, but you wanted the fight to the death, so….” I shrug.
He's very quiet on the way to the hold.
