Wait a minute… what did you just eat, Patricia? Or should I ask who?
Patrica, my pink partner, pauses, “Good question. I don't know. But would you please hurry back to Absalom Station? The body you provided is lifeless when we're this far away.”
“How can you not know?” I actually ask aloud as I walk to one of the portals that leads to a Keyhome on Stephanie. It's not like there's anyone around that matters, just the summons.
I get the impression of a shrug back, “Well, I have access to your senses; did YOU see who we ate?”
Right… how could that work, though? Is there someone on my person I don't know about? I keep True Seeing up and have an unusually high Perception; I should be able to spot nearly anyone.
“Yeah, it doesn't make sense,” Patricia ponders the matter as I hop through a portal and force my way out the closed door.
As I appear inside Stephanie next to where she stores the Keyhome, I consider: What did the soul taste like? What kinks?
“It didn't. No kinks. Pure soulstuff… like a candy that's basically pure sugar, unflavored by anything else,” she pauses, “quite tasty, but a bit dull. So we’re looking for a virgin that’s so pure that they don’t even have fantasies. I'm not going to turn it down, but not really something to seek out.”
That's… who in the world would fit that description? I can't imagine that could possibly describe a spy, ever.
“It’s the first time I've encountered the flavor… I'm sure we'll figure it out,” despite the words, Patricia actually seems somewhat concerned.
“Admiral?” Stephanie interrupts my reverie through her speakers, “What are you doing here?”
Ah, right, “The Restoration spell worked, mostly; it needed more castings to restore Ocean’s body to a pre-spell state, but that was affordable enough. A few other details, but… well, Ocean and Star are starting in on their dream, I felt a bit like a third wheel, and they were a little busy to drop me off,so I came through the Keyhome network. I should have still called ahead.”
“Oh, it's fine, you're the boss,” Stephanie states through the ship's speakers, “I was just surprised… I'm glad it went well. So they're humping like march hares, then?”
A fair description, “With both pairs of bodies, yes, which is why I didn't use ta's airlocks; those were… occupied.”
“So I should make sure the water is hot and the projectors are working in your cabin?” Okay Stephanie, that's a bit cheeky…
…but yes, “Thank you, Stephanie.”
“Not a problem, Mistress,” Stephanie pausesbriefly, “Also: ‘Ta’?”
Ugh, I'm not entirely sure I should be sharing, but… “‘He’ and ‘she’ don't apply properly to Ocean anymore, and the plural is awkward, so that's the pronoun I'm using for now.”
That gives Stephanie pause, “So… like you were when I went too far and you blessed me?”
“No. Full set of both…” I consider my answer, “on ta's human-scale body, anyway. I don't know if Ocean figured out how to make that apply to the starship-scale portion.”
“So more like most plants and a lot of mollusks,” Stephanie muses, “Eh, whatever. New species, new rules… as long as my kids are happy and healthy, it's good.”
“They seem very happy,” or at least horny and satisfied, “and my power upon them should keep them healthy,” and alive… although that hasn't been tested. We haven't even checked on the mapping between fast healing and regeneration onto Hull Points, much less Delay Death… and if all goes well, we'll never find out.
“That’s good…" my mothership pauses, and continues, "so do you have any orders for while the twins are getting their fill of each other?”
“Eh, not really. It’s been a good distraction, but I do want to get back to our core competency of cargo hauling… and for that, I need to talk to folks and shuffle cargo.” I pause briefly, “so mostly I just need to get onto the station so I can do that.”
“That's no problem, Admiral,” Stephanie pauses as I continue to make my way to her airlock, then asks a question, “What's the range limit on those Keyhomes you're using for cargo and ship to ship transport?”
I shrug, “There isn't one. It's interplanar as a fundamental factor of how it works… it’s even non magical,” thanks to Technological Wonders on me, “so it can cross the Drift border if needed. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, just…” Stephanie hesitates, “is there anything stopping us from parking, say, The Rustbucket here while the rest of us go to other places, then load cargo in one place and sell it in another immediately?”
I pause in my walk, “Umm… technically? No. We could do that, but…” something’s itching in the back of my head about this, “Something bugs me about it, but I can't pin it down. Seems like it's worth trying, though. Thanks.”
“You're welcome, Admiral,” I can tell from the tone of voice that she's beaming.
New plan in mind… my next several steps are the same anyway. I buff up and buy a huge amount of new cargo (which takes a full day, because the downtime rules are weird), making sure to use Stephanie's cargo bay for the loading… but keeping her remote well away from the actual loading operations this time: Ships are great, and kids are fine, but “too many” kids would be a hassle. I prefer having mindless ships I can offload if they're a problem. Ocean and Star can manage their own kids, just like I'll need to manage mine.
…wait…
“You can check, at least,” my Pink partner persuades, “it's harmless to look.”
I find a quiet spot, push my jugs aside, and look down at myself… I am apparently still purple, but the little dot growing inside me? It's neon pink. ‘She’ now, I suppose. Great. What to do….
Another Restoration? How would anyone target her? I can wait until she's out, but at that point she'll have been growing as an extreme female for basically her entire life. I mean… ugh. What can I possibly do?
“It’s not like it's bad,” my pink partner suggests.
Ignoring her…
“Hey!”
…I take a breath to force myself to pause. Okay, so, I can't do anything about it directly; anything I do will simply make it worse. And nobody can cut into me meaningfully anymore, so nobody else can do anything about it until after she's born, or is at least very close to it. So I have months to figure out what to do… because that milk is already spilled. So for now, I will just toss it in the back of my head and noodle on it from time to time.
“So your big plan is to do nothing and worry about it later?” Patricia is having none of it.
Do you have any better suggestions?
“No,” she admits, “but it’s still not a great plan.”
It's not. But I don't exactly have much in the way of options.
“True enough,” she admits.
Of course, there's also the other big ticket item: How is The Plan coming? More buffs, and then Ears of the City….
So first up: Is anyone still hunting me?
I get a reply back in a multitude of voices, each pronouncing a single word (sometimes just a syllable) and brief flashes of imagery:
Anyone in the Absalom Station intelligence service, or with trusted moles within it, isn't going to be making a move until after they figure out how you kidnapped all of those Azlanti officers off their ships while in space, because they realize you're quietly sitting on a superweapon that blows through all defenses like they aren't even there. Until they have some grasp on the limits of that, they're not going to risk making you angry. Other groups - those that don't believe the reports, or don't have suitable access - they want what you've got, and will stop at nothing to get it… but there’s less of them, at least.
Well, that explains the lack of assassins. Who are the current major players after me?
The Azlanti Star Empire hasn't given up… but it'll be a bit before their budget covers another big strike. Of more concern is that Directive 9 of the Veskarium has caught wind of you, and has plans in motion.
What plans?
Kidnapping and ransom. The plan is to capture one of your companions, torture them for information, and use them as a bargaining chip to compel you to give them the secrets of your technology.
Well, that's easy to resist; I literally can't tell them how to duplicate what I do, due to the nonlocal nature of the physics involved. Still… how far along are they?
They're stuck on the second step. They captured that pink pet bird of yours with the astronomical milkmakers, and are torturing her for information now.
Wait… Cowbird?
Yes. The torturers are getting exhausted.
That tracks. Well… where are they based?
I get directions from the spell, and dismiss it.
Time to go to war….
Wait a minute… what did you just eat, Patricia? Or should I ask who?
Patrica, my pink partner, pauses, “Good question. I don't know. But would you please hurry back to Absalom Station? The body you provided is lifeless when we're this far away.”
“How can you not know?” I actually ask aloud as I walk to one of the portals that leads to a Keyhome on Stephanie. It's not like there's anyone around that matters, just the summons.
I get the impression of a shrug back, “Well, I have access to your senses; did YOU see who we ate?”
Right… how could that work, though? Is there someone on my person I don't know about? I keep True Seeing up and have an unusually high Perception; I should be able to spot nearly anyone.
“Yeah, it doesn't make sense,” Patricia ponders the matter as I hop through a portal and force my way out the closed door.
As I appear inside Stephanie next to where she stores the Keyhome, I consider: What did the soul taste like? What kinks?
“It didn't. No kinks. Pure soulstuff… like a candy that's basically pure sugar, unflavored by anything else,” she pauses, “quite tasty, but a bit dull. So we’re looking for a virgin that’s so pure that they don’t even have fantasies. I'm not going to turn it down, but not really something to seek out.”
That's… who in the world would fit that description? I can't imagine that could possibly describe a spy, ever.
“It’s the first time I've encountered the flavor… I'm sure we'll figure it out,” despite the words, Patricia actually seems somewhat concerned.
“Admiral?” Stephanie interrupts my reverie through her speakers, “What are you doing here?”
Ah, right, “The Restoration spell worked, mostly; it needed more castings to restore Ocean’s body to a pre-spell state, but that was affordable enough. A few other details, but… well, Ocean and Star are starting in on their dream, I felt a bit like a third wheel, and they were a little busy to drop me off,so I came through the Keyhome network. I should have still called ahead.”
“Oh, it's fine, you're the boss,” Stephanie states through the ship's speakers, “I was just surprised… I'm glad it went well. So they're humping like march hares, then?”
A fair description, “With both pairs of bodies, yes, which is why I didn't use ta's airlocks; those were… occupied.”
“So I should make sure the water is hot and the projectors are working in your cabin?” Okay Stephanie, that's a bit cheeky…
…but yes, “Thank you, Stephanie.”
“Not a problem, Mistress,” Stephanie pausesbriefly, “Also: ‘Ta’?”
Ugh, I'm not entirely sure I should be sharing, but… “‘He’ and ‘she’ don't apply properly to Ocean anymore, and the plural is awkward, so that's the pronoun I'm using for now.”
That gives Stephanie pause, “So… like you were when I went too far and you blessed me?”
“No. Full set of both…” I consider my answer, “on ta's human-scale body, anyway. I don't know if Ocean figured out how to make that apply to the starship-scale portion.”
“So more like most plants and a lot of mollusks,” Stephanie muses, “Eh, whatever. New species, new rules… as long as my kids are happy and healthy, it's good.”
“They seem very happy,” or at least horny and satisfied, “and my power upon them should keep them healthy,” and alive… although that hasn't been tested. We haven't even checked on the mapping between fast healing and regeneration onto Hull Points, much less Delay Death… and if all goes well, we'll never find out.
“That’s good…" my mothership pauses, and continues, "so do you have any orders for while the twins are getting their fill of each other?”
“Eh, not really. It’s been a good distraction, but I do want to get back to our core competency of cargo hauling… and for that, I need to talk to folks and shuffle cargo.” I pause briefly, “so mostly I just need to get onto the station so I can do that.”
“That's no problem, Admiral,” Stephanie pauses as I continue to make my way to her airlock, then asks a question, “What's the range limit on those Keyhomes you're using for cargo and ship to ship transport?”
I shrug, “There isn't one. It's interplanar as a fundamental factor of how it works… it’s even non magical,” thanks to Technological Wonders on me, “so it can cross the Drift border if needed. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, just…” Stephanie hesitates, “is there anything stopping us from parking, say, The Rustbucket here while the rest of us go to other places, then load cargo in one place and sell it in another immediately?”
I pause in my walk, “Umm… technically? No. We could do that, but…” something’s itching in the back of my head about this, “Something bugs me about it, but I can't pin it down. Seems like it's worth trying, though. Thanks.”
“You're welcome, Admiral,” I can tell from the tone of voice that she's beaming.
New plan in mind… my next several steps are the same anyway. I buff up and buy a huge amount of new cargo (which takes a full day, because the downtime rules are weird), making sure to use Stephanie's cargo bay for the loading… but keeping her remote well away from the actual loading operations this time: Ships are great, and kids are fine, but “too many” kids would be a hassle. I prefer having mindless ships I can offload if they're a problem. Ocean and Star can manage their own kids, just like I'll need to manage mine.
…wait…
“You can check, at least,” my Pink partner persuades, “it's harmless to look.”
I find a quiet spot, push my jugs aside, and look down at myself… I am apparently still purple, but the little dot growing inside me? It's neon pink. ‘She’ now, I suppose. Great. What to do….
Another Restoration? How would anyone target her? I can wait until she's out, but at that point she'll have been growing as an extreme female for basically her entire life. I mean… ugh. What can I possibly do?
“It’s not like it's bad,” my pink partner suggests.
Ignoring her…
“Hey!”
…I take a breath to force myself to pause. Okay, so, I can't do anything about it directly; anything I do will simply make it worse. And nobody can cut into me meaningfully anymore, so nobody else can do anything about it until after she's born, or is at least very close to it. So I have months to figure out what to do… because that milk is already spilled. So for now, I will just toss it in the back of my head and noodle on it from time to time.
“So your big plan is to do nothing and worry about it later?” Patricia is having none of it.
Do you have any better suggestions?
“No,” she admits, “but it’s still not a great plan.”
It's not. But I don't exactly have much in the way of options.
“True enough,” she admits.
Of course, there's also the other big ticket item: How is The Plan coming? More buffs, and then Ears of the City….
So first up: Is anyone still hunting me?
I get a reply back in a multitude of voices, each pronouncing a single word (sometimes just a syllable) and brief flashes of imagery:
Anyone in the Absalom Station intelligence service, or with trusted moles within it, isn't going to be making a move until after they figure out how you kidnapped all of those Azlanti officers off their ships while in space, because they realize you're quietly sitting on a superweapon that blows through all defenses like they aren't even there. Until they have some grasp on the limits of that, they're not going to risk making you angry. Other groups - those that don't believe the reports, or don't have suitable access - they want what you've got, and will stop at nothing to get it… but there’s less of them, at least.
Well, that explains the lack of assassins. Who are the current major players after me?
The Azlanti Star Empire hasn't given up… but it'll be a bit before their budget covers another big strike. Of more concern is that Directive 9 of the Veskarium has caught wind of you, and has plans in motion.
What plans?
Kidnapping and ransom. The plan is to capture one of your companions, torture them for information, and use them as a bargaining chip to compel you to give them the secrets of your technology.
Well, that's easy to resist; I literally can't tell them how to duplicate what I do, due to the nonlocal nature of the physics involved. Still… how far along are they?
They're stuck on the second step. They captured that pink pet bird of yours with the astronomical milkmakers, and are torturing her for information now.
Wait… Cowbird?
Yes. The torturers are getting exhausted.
That tracks. Well… where are they based?
I get directions from the spell, and dismiss it.
Time to go to war….
