The bathroom is still very pin…. bare metal basically everywhere it's not pin pstic. It does, however, have two important features for me right now: A courtesy lock (it would not take much to unlock it from the outside, so functionally speaking it's just an “occupied” sign) and a mirror over the sink.
I start by looking at the face in the mirror… oh, wow, that's a face I'd like to see sucking my… oh, wait, I don't have one of those anymore. I find I'm heating up again already. Hmm… no gsses, that's nice… she has a button nose… her lips look like they're pillows, almost… a narrow chin… clear skin… slightly faded brown eyes and a slight hint of clouding her my pupils. Her blond hair reaches down past her shoulders, but doesn't seem to get in her way… I grab it and check, it goes all the way down to my waist. Huh, how is that staying out of the way? I experiment a bit… I can't find anything in it, but every time I stop trying to do something with it, my hair just sort of neatens itself up, untangling itself and getting out of my way… yet I can still braid it and such… how does that work, I wonder?
I check the wall and estimate I'm still about the same five foot eight, give or take. Then I start undressing, taking off my civilian clothes and second skin armor. I close my eyes, turn to the mirror, take a breath, and open my eyes again.
Okay… that view makes me weak in the knees. I didn't think a chest like that existed outside of cartoons. Those aren't just “bigger than her head” - they're pale peach beach balls with pink thumbs on matching dessert ptes. How can she stand so easily? Gravity should be dragging those monsters down to her very small waist - if not the ground - yet they're high enough I can clearly see her belly button. Frowning doesn't look good on her face… I climb on the toilet and look in the mirror again; she's smooth down there, and is clearly excited. That's a rather small waist I could wrap my hands around, and quite the behind… thick thighs, yet dainty feet. Nice… but… I get down and stand at the mirror again.
“Fredrick?” I call out.
“What can I… umm…” he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, draws another, opens his eyes looking straight at my ear, and continues, “What can I do for you, David?”
“Why does she look so…” I gesture at the mirror, waving my hand up and down, side to side.
I think he gets the idea, “...like a hormone riddled youth’s wet dream?”
“Yeah, that,” I nod, not taking my eyes off the vision of beauty in the mirror.
“Hold a moment…” I see him mouthing again out of the corner of my eyes, pausing and listening, and then he speaks up, “...you're the youth. You didn't have a mental image of yourself as a woman, so the effect turned you into the strongest female image in your head that wasn't assigned to anyone else before applying the racial changes.”
“So she looks like a fantasy made flesh because that's exactly what she is?” I can't take my eyes off her chest.
Our game master tightens his lips, “Yes, but David… that's you now.”
“That's not me, that's…” I don't know what to say.
“It's certainly not the inner you,” the ghost cedes, “but what you are looking at is most assuredly your body now, you will have it until the day you die, and your repcement body after that will almost certainly be very simir. This is you, at least until you end Garret Garibaldi for good.”
“NO. That's NOT ME!” I take a breath, “Go away.”
…and just like that, I'm alone with the woman in the mirror again.
Well… there's nothing more to learn here. I get dressed, ignoring the hollow feeling in my abdomen, and head to the bridge. Ugh. Why does Fredrick have to be such a jerk? There has to be something I can do about the woman in the mirror. I head to the bridge in a funk.
The other three are there, either watching the view screen or fooling around on the personal comm unit built into our armor (yes, basically all Starfinder armor comes with a built-in smartphone: Light, camera, games, and such included,with an eighty-hour battery… also boot cmps for tromping around out on the hull of the ship). Well, okay, Alice doesn't have one in her armor, as what she's wearing isn't properly Starfinder armor… although right now she's watching the ship's course, so isn't really pying anyway.
I pause looking at Brett: She's a fairly normal-looking woman: Auburn hair a little past her shoulders, Emerald eyes with that same fading and slight clouding we all have, a round chin, generous handfuls on her chest, enough of a waist/hip ratio to easily identify her as female, clear skin, just slightly puffy lips… a solid eight of ten. “How come you got off so easy?”
Brett turns to me, a confused look on her face, “What do you mean?” She speaks into my mind… huh, she sounds like a girl there, too.
“I'm lugging twin blimps around, and you just…”
“Oh, that,” Brett calmly signs back, “I don't know how exactly it happened, but this is the woman I sometimes pretend to be online when I'm feeling girly: Brenna.”
That brings me up short, “You had an image in your head for yourself as a woman, then?”
“I suppose so,” she signs back. “I'm guessing you didn't?”
“No,” I sigh, “so I'm stuck with a stupid dream from when I was a teenager.”
“I'm kind of jealous, myself,” Charlene steps in, “I would kill to have a rack like yours.”
Seems odd… I look Charlene over. She's got cinnamon skin which has turned a shade paler than it was before, but she's still recognizably herself with her brown eyes (a slightly faded brown now, with the same slight clouding in her pupils the rest of us have), strong nose, pointy jaw, long eyeshes, and full lips. Her jet bck hair is up in very tiny braids she keeps wrapped up around her head, which might make her look slightly taller than the maybe six-one she is, with those twin honeydew melons behind her armor. Her waist doesn't narrow much, but she certainly has the hips and backside to make it very clear she's a grown woman.
“Why would you want these?” I sp the protrusions on my armor.
“I want them big; these are the limit of what I could get the doctors to sell me,” she shrugs, “although they're all flesh now, and that's wonderful.”
“Ooh, really?” Alice perks up, “Does that mean you've also lost your surgery scars around your….”
“How about we go down to the mess hall and I let you check real close?” Charlene wiggles her eyebrows.
That brings me up short, “You transitioned?”
“I helped her realize the woman she wanted to be,” the petite redhead nods, “It took her quite a while to come to grips with it.”
“You knew me as Charlie in third grade,” Charlene chuckles, “I recognized you in college, which is why I asked about joining the gaming group.”
“Oh.” I pause, looking a little left and right.
“Not the worst reaction I've had to dropping that bomb.” Charlene ughs, “You're fine, by the way. And…” she looks at Alice, “I'm not joking about the inspection thing… I could use a good roll in the hay.” She turns to me, “Would you like to come? I seriously want to get my hands on those jugs you're carrying.”
“I can keep an eye on the ship,” Brett ‘helpfully’ signs.
“I'm not ready for a three way yet,” I speak slowly, “and I need some time to process, I think….”
“Suit yourself,” Charlene licks her lips, “Come on, Alice…” Charlene reaches down and lifts Alice onto her shoulder, the smaller dy squealing in delight as Charlene walks out the door.
“She never told you, huh?” Brett signs at me, then switches the configuration on his station.
“No, she did not,” I reply. “Umm. Mind if I just sit here quietly for a while, manning the scanners?”
“No problem,” she signs back.
I run a sensor sweep to keep myself occupied… there's a whole lot of nothing out there, but I do want to be sure it's nothing… and eventually ask, “So… this has me thinking… are you a guy or a girl or what?”
“Eh, whatever,” he shrugs as she signs, “I'm simply me. I like what I like. I look as I look. I can try dresses out without really odd looks now, so that's a plus. I expect it's going to be easier to get guys into bed as well. I'm not imposing anymore, though, so I'll need to watch out more… except that I'm immortal as long as one of us gets away, so…” he shrugs, “...whatever. Maybe I'll try out some choking, or maybe even snuff or vore… I'm curious why some people are attracted to it, and I can try it reasonably safely now. It's going to be lots of new experiences all around… which I suppose is a long way of saying ‘Use whichever pronouns you want’. Brett, Brenna… doesn't matter.”
I nod slowly, “Thanks for crifying.” I consider, and add, “So you're actually considering just… letting someone kill you?”
“I'm willing to try almost anything once…” she signs, “...if I can be confident it's safe. And with the rebirth thing… well, it should be.”
“We don't exactly have confirmation that everything is exactly as stated…” I begin.
“So you don't believe that the literal ghost who gave us magic and a ship straight out of science fiction can deliver on his promises?” Brett turns to me and raises an eyebrow as he talks with his hands.
“Point,” I consider, “...but I'm not sure I want to go through childbirth just so you can get your rocks off in a new and interesting way.”
“There is that…” Brenna pauses. “Hey, Ferdinand,” he signs, and our resident ghost immediately manifests, “How does the whole rebirth thing work, exactly?”
“Hi Brett. Do you mean metaphysically? I'm afraid I don't have the words to properly….” the dead guy begins.
“No,” the ex-football pyer interrupts, “I mean, like… if one of us dies and the other three are still kicking around, how does the effect pick which one of the remainder gives birth?”
“Oh, that's easy,” the man in the suit shrugs, “whomever you want.”
Brett smiles, “So if I talk to Charlene and Alice before dying….”
Ferdinand shrugs, “Then yes, if you have someone specific in mind, you can choose that person.”
“Thanks…” Brett taps on the comm unit in her armor for a bit, “That's good to know.”
A few minutes ter, there's a slight buzzing noise, and I watch Brett check her messages and smile.
Shortly thereafter, I get a ping from my own armor's comm unit, and check my messages… ah, a text from Charlene, “I would love to find out what it's like to give birth, so if I'm still kicking around after you get killed, feel free to use me as your return path.”
I text back, “I'm hoping it doesn't come to that any time soon.”
Our ghost is still hanging around, and Brenna gives an inquiry, “So does the rebirth stuff cost anything?”
Ferdinand shrugs, “Nothing that hasn't already been paid, besides the time it takes and the effort it puts the re-entry person through… it also makes me unavaible to the rest of you for the same time period.”
“So, like, there's no limit to how many times we can do it?” the current pilot keeps pushing the line of questioning.
“Correct,” the suited man nods, “It will keep working for as long as there's at least one of you here… why do you ask?”
“I am curious to find out what it's like,” the only woman in the room responds, “from both sides.”
Ferdinand pauses a long time, a very confused look on his face. “I must admit, I was not expecting that answer. Umm… that's something you can do, yes. But I… wouldn't recommend it?”
“Why not?” Brett signs.
The ghost raises an eyebrow, “Because dying sucks.”
The ship's computer chooses that moment to beep, and the thrum of the ship's engines dies down.
“Ah, we're here,” Brett signs, and taps a few things into his suit, followed by a few things in her workstation, which goes back into the prior configuration.
Charlene and Alice enter the bridge a few minutes ter, smelling like a good time, and sit down at their stations as well. Charlene uses her terminals and hits the button, and I feel an odd lurching sensation in my stomach… some pretty rainbows dance over my view, and then the world makes sense again… and the view screen is showing an enormous space station surrounded by an uncountable number of ships of wildly divergent designs….
