Chapter 4
Lost In The Mist © 2015 Sinclair Diavante
Chapter 4.
The combination starbase & starship graveyard, 1Z-Yoshi, was a lot bigger than I had expected. As soon as I walked through the airlock, thousands of smells assaulted my nose. The air scrubbers either were old, or overloaded, perhaps both. I waved to my friends and boldly went out on my own.
Booths and shops stretched out in a maze of levels before me, the ceiling of the central corridor was very high. A creature I couldn't identify approached me, and my wetware scanned it. Tentacles waved in maybe a threatening or friendly gesture. I couldn't decide, but I did have my 'blaster on me. A green outline surrounded it, a Chtolb, with a name that had no vowels and too many apostrophes. My wetware assigned a verbal component to its translation, generating a random but unique voice.
"Hello, Rhenthar. I am," I heard what sounded like a blender turning on, "and would be happy to assist you here at 1Z-Yoshi."
My wetware indicated that I could speak my response, and my words would be transmitted to whatever passed for wetware of its own. I assumed it had a similar setup, and wondered what "my" voice sounded like. All I actually heard from the creature were a series of wet squeaks and clicks.
"I'm looking for a ship to buy, something I can rebuild."
It paused, and its tentacles waved around, more squeaking, popping. It seemed to be staring at me from a central stalk, with two different lengths of tentacles surrounding its body. The dirty ones, I guessed, were used for moving around. It looked like a ball of cabbage being eaten by two different octopi.
"There are many ships here for sale by many different vendors. Would you like a recommendation?"
I nodded, then realized the Chtolb might not recognize such a gesture. "Yes, I'm looking for the smallest FTL-capable vessel available that can be rebuilt with less than 1000 labor hours." I hesitated, then added, "completely rebuilt, that is."
The octopi fought over the cabbage for a moment, then squeaked and writhed. "I would recommend you speak with," (Identity Transfer Complete.)
I stared, the cabbage pulsed softly while I saw another of its race rez into my upper right, identity information pulled from the local datanet matching what I had been given, along with where to find... it. I contemplated, then took another route.
"How about someone who speaks common? Here," I said, flipping to financial. I shot a payment of one hundred credits to the Chtolb. "For your time and effort. I seek efficiency."
Several tentacles shook. "My (cousin, offspring) will be disappointed, but between you and I, you should speak to Nod." (Identity Transfer Complete.) A giant lizard walking upright on two legs smiled at the camera. Yikes.
I thanked the Chtolb and continued deeper into the warren, tabbing a map from the 'net. In my second life, I had spent many years wishing for enough money to buy and rebuild a starship. I learned a lot of technical aspects from reading many author's guides and opinions. I knew a lot about the things to watch out for. The first offer, for free, was always a mistake. A small investment paved for a long ways when it came to information acquisition.
I entered a throng of creatures, most I could only vaguely remember having seen before. Occasionally, I saw other Rhenthar. Cautious, calculating appraisals met my eyes. Gazes lingered on the missing fur around my neck.
From near one of the booths, a laser shot at my eyes. I flinched, but it followed, tracking me perfectly. I saw in the corner of my vision a dozen different versions of me walking, slowing, and then standing still, as I stopped to stare. Each was a variant with my fur in wildly altered patterns of colors and stripes. Cost was displayed above each one. Staring at any given one brought it towards the center of my vision.
In just a few seconds, I had focused on sequentially finer and finer alterations, until I was staring at a life size version of myself, with much of my fur changed, steadily rotating before me. The white above my eyes was larger, my stripes were all black instead of gray. My muzzle was pure white below my nose, which now had a considerably darker brown bar running up between my eyes, ending in a star like on a Siberian Husky. Light brownish-orange patches spread out over my eyes, bringing out the green in them.
I'd always heard of being able to do this, but the opportunity just never presented itself, in the past.
I homed in and closed the distance to the Rhenthar and his booth, nodding. I was curious.
"I'm interested."
The Rhenthar grinned. "Beautiful changes for a beautiful Rhenthar. I could do that in just twenty minutes." He was from a breed I couldn't identify, because all of his fur was in shades of bright neon. He was a shorthair, that much I could tell. Half a meter shorter than me, with silver irises I knew couldn't be natural.
I saw the price, which wasn't cheap. Twelve hundred credits, and I knew that was an adjusted figure based upon as many factors as could be gleaned from my wetware's signature and identity. I hadn't used it in 3 years, such metadata would show no purchasing history, and so the price was likely the minimum.
"How permanent?" I asked. "How long will it last?"
"On you, the rest of the season, or until the hairs are shed. If you've got more money, and some more time, I could make the changes natural and they would last the rest of your life."
I thought about that, deciding temporary would probably be for the best. I felt impulsive, like I wanted to try something new that involved my identity. This would scratch my itch well.
"Let me ask you, can you do something about this?" I pointed at the bare spot around my neck.
"Well, sure. But why? I bet you look amazing in a collar. Are you trying to put that into your past, or...?" That he figured out what it was from felt disturbing. Then I realized, what else could it be?
"Er, yeah. Something like that. Let's do both, how long?"
"Extra thirty minutes." He went for the up sell, "while you wait, we could add any of this..." Another sparkle in my field of vision, me again, covered with different colored metal piercings. Rings hung from my nose, ears, nipples, lips. I glanced at my sheath and ears, everything else vanished. What remained was an alternating variety in and through my sheath, in different common locations. I saw one I liked, with a big ring hanging horizontally an inch below the opening. The system cycled through colors, but I left it at silver.
Matching rings appeared in my ears. Fewer, then fewer. Two in each ear, I liked symmetry. Single beads appeared in different colors and materials, weights listed next to each. I chose heavy gold beryllium, centered as a captive bead. The price at the top went even higher, and including the fur, the total was for more than I got from my last contract. I thought about all those zeros, what Sin might think. It was for me, and if he liked it, he'd buy the absolute best. So would I.
"Alright, I've changed my mind. Let's go permanent, can you do it all in an hour?" He smiled, and I noticed that his teeth had all been replaced with something like what a shark had. I began to wonder what the hell I was doing, but it would be too embarrassing to back out, now. He ushered me into a small standup booth. It looked like an autodoc crossed with a paint spray chamber.
The piercings were performed manually, while the machine worked on my fur, implanting vat-grown stock into my neck and coloring it. He explained that follicles would be reprogrammed to produce hairs with my desired colors, after the dyed ones fell out.
"Name's Jim, by the way." His movements were practiced and efficient, he wore surgical glove sprayed on his paws, sterile. He had a joint between his lips, and held it up to me. "Ease the pain?" I shook my head, that was paranoia I didn't need at the moment. He shrugged and the smoke wafted up and gave me a contact high, anyway.
Jim slid my sheath down, to position his piercing needle, and the joint fell out of his mouth when he saw the black tip of my dick, the parasite.
"That's... that's... oh, dude! That's a 'site... where did you get it?" He stared up at me in awe.
"Uh. It was a gift." I hid my eyes behind a paw, he smiled big and picked the joint back up.
"Rock on, buddy. On three, ok? Take a deep breath." I started inhaling, "one." He jammed the needle through my sheath, my eyes went wide as I finished the ragged inhale. In the stunned silence that followed, he carefully threaded the jewelry through the two holes and popped the ball into place. I saw no blood at all. "Two... three." He took a big drag and stared at the results. The ring wasn't actually through my dick, just the supple, furry skin housing it.
The rings in my ears hurt a lot less.
I paid him with a hefty tip, and walked away feeling good. The endorphins and the contact high boosted my sense of well being, I glanced down at my sheath. The jewelry caught my eye, hanging like a doorknocker through two holes near the tip. Staring at it, I started to have second thoughts, I even considered taking it out, but ultimately I decided to leave it in. I'm not a normal Rhenthar, and this announced the fact to anyone who cared to look.
I found Nod in a giant work area in a far corner of the starbase. He was leaning up against a small maneuvering thruster set onto its side. It sputtered with a low output, some parts of it were glowing red. A weldbot was busy in front of him, repairing something cryogenic. I saw lots of thick, high-pressure pipes, liquid oxygen storage, maybe. I hoped for all our sake that it was empty. I didn't see any areas covered in frost.
"Hey there." His eyes tracked me, "I was sent your way. I'm looking to buy a ship."
"Aint got not ships for sale." I noticed that he had hundreds of teeth. His tail looked strong enough to break my legs. My wetware had already confirmed his identity, so I felt confused.
"Let me rephrase. I'm looking for a rebuildable ship, for sale."
"Mmm. I got those. What kind you looking 'fer?" He reached forward and switched off the weldbot, then stared at me.
"Smallest FTL you have, something I can pilot all on my own. Less than 1k LH to proof condition." My heart quickened, it was hard to believe I was actually having this conversation. It was all coming back, what to look for, what to avoid, the lingo.
"Mmmhmm. Got somethin' small, needs 'bout two point five." He crossed his arms, and I noticed how thick his muscles were, like straight out of a fantasy book. He was only missing some leather armor and a chain with a spike at the tip.
"Two point five, no, can't be more than one." I shook my head, ears sideways.
"This fer you, er? I got's a cruiser, one would do 'er. Splitter, FTL one-point-oh. Check 'er out?" He sent me some open source BP's, exterior and interior pictures, and a long list of failed inspections. It was huge, almost as big as The Hahkota, but a lot older. The size intimidated me, but with just one thousand labor hours, I could actually manage that all on my own.
"Combat damage?"
"A'yuh." He nodded.
"From what kind of weapons?" Radiation was a no-no, projectile was almost as bad. I'd never find all the leaks, bullets ricochet. He cocked his head and stared at me, like he was surprised that I knew this much.
"Beam." He let the word hang in the air, all on its own. I nodded, laser fire was easy to fix, straight-through burns, edges all weldable with minimal surface prep. His expression implied that he had the same thoughts.
I moved on to something critical, I had almost forgotten. "Any structural damage?"
"Uh, yuh. At the front." I think he smiled at me, or he was bearing his teeth. The front was no big deal. At the back, it pretty much meant it was all throughout.
"Let's go take a look?" I wondered if I should trust him piloting me through space. He seemed professional, but this was where things got risky. I didn't want to insult him by hiring a transport.
"Ok, but you buy fuel."
He had a nice skip, it was pristine inside, and smelled clean. I should have known. His piloting skills were smooth and precise, he was very calm. He showed me some of his other vessels for sale, giving me the tour on the way to The Jefferson, the ship I was interested in. He had some very large craft available, but some of it was complete junk, only useful for parts. I identified half a dozen things that I might need to hit him up for, later, and I logged them all in my wetware.
His main arclamp lit up The Jefferson as we came up along side of her, I pushed my muzzle against the plasteel window, to get a better view. She was gorgeous, built during an era when form mattered as much as function, with smooth streamlined curves covering everything. Damage from weapons fire stood out like missing teeth. It was saddening, that such beauty could ever incur someone's wrath.
Space doesn't concern itself with smooth lines, it's all vacuum. Most modern starships are square or round, built on big universal chassis and custom outfitted inside with a modular design. Flying bricks.
The propulsion area looked intact. "Tell me about that splitter."
"She runs!" He grinned. Nod apparently wasn't much for words. I thought about that carefully, realizing nothing else needed to be said. If it could split deuterium and not explode, then everything had to be intact.
"She'll fuse, too." I looked at him with my mouth open, surprised.
"I know what yer thinkin'. Custom. Someone was in a hurry." Fusion drive was outlawed everywhere near a Class M planet. Torchdrive, with emphasis on torch.
I asked him the price. He told me.
"Oh, no, no." I folded my ears and shook my head. "What's wrong with her? Something you didn't mention, hazmat onboard? Biohaz, is it?" He wanted way too little, I could sell the engine alone, for that much.
"Nope! I just see you leanin' against that winder, and I knows you aint just gonna turn around and flip 'er. You got that look, this yer first ship?"
"Well... yeah." I splayed my ears sideways.
"Mmmhmm. Nod knows. So what'll it be? Take her or leave 'er?"
"Sold." I took his paw and shook excitedly. His hands were warm and smooth, dry, they felt good. I panted and stared through the window, using an electronic escrow service to manage the paperwork and funds. More money than I had made... in both of my lives put together.