Of course, I take Cowbird with me physically (tossed into a Keyhome, so she doesn't give me away), and keep Stephanie on coms (plugged into my Datajack, so there's no sound when I talk to her). And Patricia is in my soul, so she comes too.
As I'm walking through a forest of trees with deep red pine needles and orange bark… or close enough for me… I find my invisibility, coupled with the Mythic ring, has some odd effects for Stephanie, “It's strange… I can talk to you, but I can't triangulate based on your signal. Your signal strength is wildly different every time I check, even when I do it twice at the same time, and the directional antenna doesn't help. How do you DO that?”
I shrug, and send back, “I can't be found. So anything that logically should tell you where I am simply doesn't work. No, it doesn't make sense. It's ‘magic’,” well, Mythic. Close enough. It doesn't follow the rules of THIS reality, but a different set that my pink companion lets me use.
My ship objects, “But captain, I've encountered magic before…”
I know, “...and this isn't anything like it. Of course not. I’m from far enough away that the Drift Engine can’t get from here to there. I could use the ‘right’ term, but it wouldn’t mean the same thing for you. What I do breaks the laws of physics as you know them… well, what term fits that better than ‘magic’?”
That does quiet her down for a time while she chews on it, which is good, as I’m coming up on the village. It’s walled, with wood apparently harvested from the local forest… apparently they don’t know that shaving off the bark extends the wood’s life, as the bark is still on those logs… or maybe it doesn’t work that way with these trees? Who knows.
The village gate is standing open, and yes, there’s a guard posted. I’m unfindable, though, so I’m good to go. I take a moment to examine the guard… reptilian with scales in a nice pattern of three shades of dark red, and something of a frill that looks like it’s mobile. My Life Science skill tells me he’s a male. His eyes are set wide on his head, but facing forward, and his mouth is a bit wider than a human’s… no teeth, apparently, when he yawns. He has two clawed hands (three fingers and a thumb) holding a spear that looks like it’s balanced for throwing. No clothing is visible, although I can’t see him below the waist (assuming he has one; he could be a snake or something).
And yes, he looks like a human in a costume. What is it about the humanoid form that makes it so prevalent?
I walk through the open gate, and… ah. DEFINITELY a male guard; he's nude, and his reproductive organs (yes, plural: he's got two rods sticking out, no visible balls) are both large and out there, just before his tail coils up onto the platform on which he's waiting (he has no legs, and apparently moves much like a snake).
Looking around… the huts are made out of the same wood, and are very small… sleeping quarters only, from the looks of things. And… everyone is nude, it seems. The females lack the frills on the male at the gate, and are much more brightly colored in hues of orange, yellow, and red; they’re also larger (seven to eight feet tall vs. the males at five to five and a half), more heavily muscled, and are much less common (about ten males per female, just by what I can see). And… I don't see a single female working. The men are all busy - cutting wood, knapping stone, butchering meat, whatever - while the women are just kind of… posing by huts, I guess? Flexing their arms, leaning back and emphasizing the gap in their scales that should fit the males’ equipment, that kind of thing.
Curiously, the females do have what appears to be mammary tissue, including obvious milk ducts (four each)… I guess these folks are technically mammals, then, despite the lack of hair.
No kids, though?
I poke my head into one of the huts… and another… and another… ah. Apparently they have a long breeding cycle, and it seems it’s egg season: Any hut that doesn't have a female out front posing has one inside the hut, laying eggs. And the women inside the huts? They're even bigger. Considering, I start counting huts vs. males… okay, so the females outnumber the males by about two to one… huh. I take some pictures to document their tool use, construction, and society, such as I can see of it.
I wonder what this does to my employer's plans? Probably very little: It's a simple matter to mine the other worlds, asteroids, and such.
Well… as fascinating as seeing an ancient culture in person is… it would take a lot longer than I want to spend right now to learn anything of actual importance… and I kind of feel like a peeping Tom with them all running around on display as they are.
Also, the scales really aren't doing anything for me.
So I shrug, and head back to the ship. The walk is pleasant enough; it's starting to get dark, but my eidolon provides me with Darkvision, so other than switching to black and white after a point, there's very little change when the sun goes down.
On the way back, Stephanie sends me a message, “Captain, we have a complication.”
“Not a problem? Details, please.” Seems an odd way to phrase things.
“I was having a snack…” using the fuel synthesizer, obviously, “and one of the natives just walked into my hull…” she begins.
That doesn't sound so bad, “We'll be leaving soon, so what's it matter?”
“The cloak failed when he did…” I'm sure she's working up to something….
“That's not too big of a deal; he'll have a story to tell, but that’s fine,” it's not like we have to worry about the Prime Directive or anything.
“...because I accidentally grabbed him along with a chunk of bush…” Definitely working up to bad news.
“So just let him go…” hopefully that's still an option.
“... but I didn't notice until after I'd had a bite…” don't tell me….
“He's not dead, is he?” I can fix… part of that….
“Oh, no, nothing of the sort. He's fine. I stopped the grinders before he got to them.” There's something….
“So what's the problem? Just spit him out and we can be on our way.” I can dream, can't I?
“About that… he's loose inside my hull. I know exactly where he is, thanks to the holographic setup, but… ah… I can’t reach him.” Lovely.
“Well… fine. Lock him down with the pressure doors,” All starships larger than a fighter have doors that close to prevent all the air from leaving in the event of a hull breach… well, except the ones intended for folks who don't need air… and they can contain folks who don't know how to work the manual overrides, “I'll be by in a bit to see about getting him out.” I don't have a Telepathic Bond spell running with my Summons, for obvious reasons.
“Already done. Thank you captain,” she sounds relieved.
I can't resist though, “Oh, and Stephanie?”
“Yes captain?” She sounds worried.
“Do watch what you eat. You are eating for two, after all.” I just can't resist the bad joke.
She pauses a full six seconds, “Yes captain.”
I get back to the ship without any trouble, then Teleport in to avoid the visuals associated with Stephanie's airlocks, and get a suitable HUD transmitted by way of my com unit in my neck. I consider a moment, “Stephanie, would you please send me a picture of the room?”
“Yes Captain,” she complies.
I get it… OK, yes, he absolutely looks like a native, but… he is remarkably calm for a native of a no-tech culture violently grabbed and eaten by a giant, then locked in a neon pink steel room. He doesn’t even seem to be trying to escape. That’s… huh.
Rather than opening the door, I teleport in, and watch him with my own eyes for a moment… ah. Heh. It’s a disguise. He’s not a native, he’s waiting to be rescued.
I drop the invisibility, and greet him in galactic common, “Hi, I’m Captain Alex Abrams… welcome to the Stephanie Steel.”
The hologram that looks like a native calmly looks me over, “Euler,” he reaches out to shake my hand, and I oblige, “So are you here to get me off of this rock?”
I shrug, “We have the carriage for it, so we can if you'd like, but… we're just out here on a cartography contract. How long have you been here?”
“Oh, not too long… sixty nine years, four months, three days, twelve hours, sixteen minutes.” Right. Holograms are AIs, there's a computer at his core.
And another question: “Aha… and how'd you get here?”
Euler tells his tale very calmly “An emergency landing. We won a fight in the Drift… technically… but the battle killed our engineer and wrecked our life support. The organics on board didn't have enough personal life support to reach our destination, so we exited the Drift and hoped for the best; found a habitable planet on sensors, headed here… and our pilot couldn't control the ship on re-entry; we all survived the crash, the ship didn't.”
I guess he's had time to come to terms… “And… I can guess, but I should ask: What became of the other crew members?”
“All dead. One by a wild animal, one by a disease we never quite identified, one by old age, the last by suicide.” He seems calm… but again, it's been a while.
I nod, “My condolences… what became of the ship?”
“There wasa reactor core overload not too terribly long after the landing: There wasn't even scrap left. We had time to get away, but…” he shrugs.
I nod, “Okay, a few housekeeping odds and ends, then… first: It's possible I'll want you to earn your keep on the trip; what can you do?”
Euler considers, “I'm a technomancer; I can fit nicely in as a science officer or magic officer, no problem, and also have some skill at piloting or gunnery.”
I nod, “We don't have any guns on this ship, but yes, a magic or science officer could be handy at some point. And the other big thing….”
“And that is?” He tilts his head slightly.
“The naked scaled snakeman thing doesn't do anything for me. Please change your hardlight model,” I grimace.
He chuckles, "Yes captain," and I work the doors to let him into the ship proper.
Of course, I take Cowbird with me physically (tossed into a Keyhome, so she doesn't give me away), and keep Stephanie on coms (plugged into my Datajack, so there's no sound when I talk to her). And Patricia is in my soul, so she comes too.
As I'm walking through a forest of trees with deep red pine needles and orange bark… or close enough for me… I find my invisibility, coupled with the Mythic ring, has some odd effects for Stephanie, “It's strange… I can talk to you, but I can't triangulate based on your signal. Your signal strength is wildly different every time I check, even when I do it twice at the same time, and the directional antenna doesn't help. How do you DO that?”
I shrug, and send back, “I can't be found. So anything that logically should tell you where I am simply doesn't work. No, it doesn't make sense. It's ‘magic’,” well, Mythic. Close enough. It doesn't follow the rules of THIS reality, but a different set that my pink companion lets me use.
My ship objects, “But captain, I've encountered magic before…”
I know, “...and this isn't anything like it. Of course not. I’m from far enough away that the Drift Engine can’t get from here to there. I could use the ‘right’ term, but it wouldn’t mean the same thing for you. What I do breaks the laws of physics as you know them… well, what term fits that better than ‘magic’?”
That does quiet her down for a time while she chews on it, which is good, as I’m coming up on the village. It’s walled, with wood apparently harvested from the local forest… apparently they don’t know that shaving off the bark extends the wood’s life, as the bark is still on those logs… or maybe it doesn’t work that way with these trees? Who knows.
The village gate is standing open, and yes, there’s a guard posted. I’m unfindable, though, so I’m good to go. I take a moment to examine the guard… reptilian with scales in a nice pattern of three shades of dark red, and something of a frill that looks like it’s mobile. My Life Science skill tells me he’s a male. His eyes are set wide on his head, but facing forward, and his mouth is a bit wider than a human’s… no teeth, apparently, when he yawns. He has two clawed hands (three fingers and a thumb) holding a spear that looks like it’s balanced for throwing. No clothing is visible, although I can’t see him below the waist (assuming he has one; he could be a snake or something).
And yes, he looks like a human in a costume. What is it about the humanoid form that makes it so prevalent?
I walk through the open gate, and… ah. DEFINITELY a male guard; he's nude, and his reproductive organs (yes, plural: he's got two rods sticking out, no visible balls) are both large and out there, just before his tail coils up onto the platform on which he's waiting (he has no legs, and apparently moves much like a snake).
Looking around… the huts are made out of the same wood, and are very small… sleeping quarters only, from the looks of things. And… everyone is nude, it seems. The females lack the frills on the male at the gate, and are much more brightly colored in hues of orange, yellow, and red; they’re also larger (seven to eight feet tall vs. the males at five to five and a half), more heavily muscled, and are much less common (about ten males per female, just by what I can see). And… I don't see a single female working. The men are all busy - cutting wood, knapping stone, butchering meat, whatever - while the women are just kind of… posing by huts, I guess? Flexing their arms, leaning back and emphasizing the gap in their scales that should fit the males’ equipment, that kind of thing.
Curiously, the females do have what appears to be mammary tissue, including obvious milk ducts (four each)… I guess these folks are technically mammals, then, despite the lack of hair.
No kids, though?
I poke my head into one of the huts… and another… and another… ah. Apparently they have a long breeding cycle, and it seems it’s egg season: Any hut that doesn't have a female out front posing has one inside the hut, laying eggs. And the women inside the huts? They're even bigger. Considering, I start counting huts vs. males… okay, so the females outnumber the males by about two to one… huh. I take some pictures to document their tool use, construction, and society, such as I can see of it.
I wonder what this does to my employer's plans? Probably very little: It's a simple matter to mine the other worlds, asteroids, and such.
Well… as fascinating as seeing an ancient culture in person is… it would take a lot longer than I want to spend right now to learn anything of actual importance… and I kind of feel like a peeping Tom with them all running around on display as they are.
Also, the scales really aren't doing anything for me.
So I shrug, and head back to the ship. The walk is pleasant enough; it's starting to get dark, but my eidolon provides me with Darkvision, so other than switching to black and white after a point, there's very little change when the sun goes down.
On the way back, Stephanie sends me a message, “Captain, we have a complication.”
“Not a problem? Details, please.” Seems an odd way to phrase things.
“I was having a snack…” using the fuel synthesizer, obviously, “and one of the natives just walked into my hull…” she begins.
That doesn't sound so bad, “We'll be leaving soon, so what's it matter?”
“The cloak failed when he did…” I'm sure she's working up to something….
“That's not too big of a deal; he'll have a story to tell, but that’s fine,” it's not like we have to worry about the Prime Directive or anything.
“...because I accidentally grabbed him along with a chunk of bush…” Definitely working up to bad news.
“So just let him go…” hopefully that's still an option.
“... but I didn't notice until after I'd had a bite…” don't tell me….
“He's not dead, is he?” I can fix… part of that….
“Oh, no, nothing of the sort. He's fine. I stopped the grinders before he got to them.” There's something….
“So what's the problem? Just spit him out and we can be on our way.” I can dream, can't I?
“About that… he's loose inside my hull. I know exactly where he is, thanks to the holographic setup, but… ah… I can’t reach him.” Lovely.
“Well… fine. Lock him down with the pressure doors,” All starships larger than a fighter have doors that close to prevent all the air from leaving in the event of a hull breach… well, except the ones intended for folks who don't need air… and they can contain folks who don't know how to work the manual overrides, “I'll be by in a bit to see about getting him out.” I don't have a Telepathic Bond spell running with my Summons, for obvious reasons.
“Already done. Thank you captain,” she sounds relieved.
I can't resist though, “Oh, and Stephanie?”
“Yes captain?” She sounds worried.
“Do watch what you eat. You are eating for two, after all.” I just can't resist the bad joke.
She pauses a full six seconds, “Yes captain.”
I get back to the ship without any trouble, then Teleport in to avoid the visuals associated with Stephanie's airlocks, and get a suitable HUD transmitted by way of my com unit in my neck. I consider a moment, “Stephanie, would you please send me a picture of the room?”
“Yes Captain,” she complies.
I get it… OK, yes, he absolutely looks like a native, but… he is remarkably calm for a native of a no-tech culture violently grabbed and eaten by a giant, then locked in a neon pink steel room. He doesn’t even seem to be trying to escape. That’s… huh.
Rather than opening the door, I teleport in, and watch him with my own eyes for a moment… ah. Heh. It’s a disguise. He’s not a native, he’s waiting to be rescued.
I drop the invisibility, and greet him in galactic common, “Hi, I’m Captain Alex Abrams… welcome to the Stephanie Steel.”
The hologram that looks like a native calmly looks me over, “Euler,” he reaches out to shake my hand, and I oblige, “So are you here to get me off of this rock?”
I shrug, “We have the carriage for it, so we can if you'd like, but… we're just out here on a cartography contract. How long have you been here?”
“Oh, not too long… sixty nine years, four months, three days, twelve hours, sixteen minutes.” Right. Holograms are AIs, there's a computer at his core.
And another question: “Aha… and how'd you get here?”
Euler tells his tale very calmly “An emergency landing. We won a fight in the Drift… technically… but the battle killed our engineer and wrecked our life support. The organics on board didn't have enough personal life support to reach our destination, so we exited the Drift and hoped for the best; found a habitable planet on sensors, headed here… and our pilot couldn't control the ship on re-entry; we all survived the crash, the ship didn't.”
I guess he's had time to come to terms… “And… I can guess, but I should ask: What became of the other crew members?”
“All dead. One by a wild animal, one by a disease we never quite identified, one by old age, the last by suicide.” He seems calm… but again, it's been a while.
I nod, “My condolences… what became of the ship?”
“There wasa reactor core overload not too terribly long after the landing: There wasn't even scrap left. We had time to get away, but…” he shrugs.
I nod, “Okay, a few housekeeping odds and ends, then… first: It's possible I'll want you to earn your keep on the trip; what can you do?”
Euler considers, “I'm a technomancer; I can fit nicely in as a science officer or magic officer, no problem, and also have some skill at piloting or gunnery.”
I nod, “We don't have any guns on this ship, but yes, a magic or science officer could be handy at some point. And the other big thing….”
“And that is?” He tilts his head slightly.
“The naked scaled snakeman thing doesn't do anything for me. Please change your hardlight model,” I grimace.
He chuckles, "Yes captain," and I work the doors to let him into the ship proper.
