065: Reroll, level 12
With everyone else doing the fetching and explaining, I just wait in a predictable spot. It takes a bit for the first to get to me: A big greenish guy with two tusks. He seems quite impatient.
“Ugh, get this bloody cortex bomb outta my head,” he complains.
“That's the plan; hold still…” I snatch it out of his head, and toss it into the control room to room to join the mess in there, “Now if you don't mind, please bring others here… we have a clock to beat.”
He smiles, “let's save as many as we can….”
And that's how it goes. At first I'm waiting on people… I get a few flavors of trolls, orcs, dwarves, elves, and many others, some of which are obviously cyborgs… and I task each one with getting more people to me. Many refuse and just head to the surface… I don't waste effort on going after them: I don't really blame people for wanting to get as far from here as possible as quickly as possible. But because some do, the pace starts to pick up. At first I'm about a minute between 'jobs’, then it's thirty seconds, then twelve, then I get a line.
I keep count mostly out of boredom; I get a hundred and thirty four ‘cleaned’, when - with over forty minutes still on the clock - the heads of the five people still in line suddenly and simultaneously explode, sending a wave of blood, bone, and gray matter splashing over the walls and floor. It passes harmlessly through me, as does the pressure wave from the haphazard stack of removed bombs behind me.
I get on my suit comm… and find Betty’s already messaging me, “Time to go. They know.”
“I just watched five heads explode, yes,” I send back, “Let's hope they don't have…”
I hear a voice from hidden speakers, “Facility compromised. Detonation in six, five….” I don't hear it say four, as I use Warp to leave.
…or I try, anyway: When I cast, I feel SEARING PAIN and find myself naked in the burning place. Betty and Ed aren't in evidence… but we were quite separated, so they're probably in their own little oases in this burning Abyss, assuming they came.
Well, at least I have time to think now. I check my sheet… ah, all the death gets me to level twelve, huh? That's nice: I was looking forward to the next step of Create Reality. Of course I do need a different build now. Hmm… also means Betty and Ed are here somewhere.
I glance around: For certain values of “Here.” I guess I can't warn them about the teleportation trap… oh well.
Still, I need to write up a new character… I keep the same custom race, of course: That infinity engine is great. Let's see… I probably shouldn't go with Fey Adept right now… I really only need three shadow points at once… okay, so Incanter on the ‘main’ side, use Mythic Traditions to get Create Reality, a one level dip in Fey Adept on the other side to get a reasonably sized shadow pool (yes, I basically swapped Fey Adept and Incanter)... eh. The shadows are good enough for most minion usages, especially as Regeneration is an option for them now with the second form talent; I don't really need an Eidolon, Wild Cohort, or CompanionVessel. I go ahead and boost my Illusion caster level via that Sphere specialization with Incanter. Hmm… I spend basically no Mythic power… so I can add Unfit for Power and Wild Mythic Power to my list of Mythic drawbacks, as they won't come up if I keep it passive. Pays for Legendary Gear, which means I can have two Mythic items… eh. Really just need the one. Ooh, Soul Safe… add Flexible Bond and I can have friends attuned… quietly visit my family… yeah. I'll do that. Not sure how long it will last with how often I kick it… but I can just set it up again each time… yeah….
I re-choose my Mythic feats and path abilities as well… upgrade from Ghost to Dread Ghost, pick up Sublime Creature (among other things, an undead immune to positive energy will be handy) and a few other tweaks. I get a lot more in the way of talents now, as Incanter gets a bonus talent every other level. Heh, and with all the templates, plus the favored class bonus, I'm getting seventeen skill points per level… eighteen, due to the bonus ranks in Piloting. Starfinder only has nineteen skills that aren't the open-ended Profession, and cover nearly everything… okay, yeah…no need for the Conjuration posse of ‘Al’s anymore. I'll still want Use Magic Device from Pathfinder, it goes with scrolls… and I'll just use a shadow any time I need one of the few skills I didn't take… which I can readily arrange to be active skills that I won't need instantly. I'm going with Athletics(covers swimming, jumping, climbing, and such) and Sleight of Hand (pickpocketing, mostly) for the ones I'm skipping. Given that I can fly through walls and am not inclined to larceny, neither should come up much.
Of course, my shadows get better too. The Illusion specialization from Incanter puts my native caster level for Illusion above my hit dice, so even without the “Unwilling” template, I'm getting shadow companions with ten hit dice. With it? Thirteen, one more than me. I'll just need to make sure all of those types are largely unarmed… which is easy, as I'm the one designing them.
I also switch to a Destroyer for my ship. It's Large - the biggest form that can still land if needed - and I do go through with my own set of Expansion Bays to keep it fueled and in good repair. I'll just need to fly between ships… which, thanks to Alteration, I should be able to do, no problem. I include the Colony ship framework, and it has carriage for two hundred people… and I may as well use the discount to get an orbital weapon… a Laser nlNet and a Light Torpedo launcher on the turret for point defense and Ranged attack; a Heavy Orbital Particle Cannon on the front. It's not as damaging as the Super Nuclear Silo on the main ship, but it doesn't have the limited fore property; it should do.
For wealth… I'm all in on my Spheres Implement. Dumping basically everything into it (other than the Ring of X-Ray Vision; I need that with the Inquisition around). Starfinder armor and weapons I can simply have (and those are the biggest expenses for most Starfinder characters) so I load up on Personal Upgrades for the stats and get simple low cost utility items for the rest.
I do find I can upgrade the party ship as well… and I watch as someone else makes minor tweaks. Hmm… we could probably leverage this into a communication channel if we had a prearranged code… but for now, we just spend the new build points. Better engines, one less docking canopy, more and better turret weapons… it works.
Once I have everything in order, I go ahead and sign off… and I find myself a little outside the compound, watching as some speakers count down, “Four. Three. Two. One.” There's a boom, and the facility collapses, seemingly into a sinkhole, dust plumes from previously trapped air escaping upwards. I watch as a few seconds later, some secondary explosions go off, collapsing the ground on top of what remains of the building… making it look even more like a sinkhole.
Well… time to survey the damage… I Illusion up a mirror. Most striking is that my skin is black. Not dark brown, black: I look like I'm coated in coal dust. Judging by where I'm standing by the fence, I'm a little on the short side… maybe five foot three? I've had it worse there. My jugs aren't too bad this go round: Bigger than most women's, but not so large as to look fake. My milk spouts are ridiculous, though: They're standing out a good six inches from the orbs behind them, and are as big around as the necks of soda bottles. I experimentally grab one… and then let go, shakily getting back to my feet. Okay… do not do that. That felt way too good. No milk this time, at least.
I continue taking inventory of my new incorporeal body: I have a thin waist, but not so much that it looks inhuman. My muscles are quite toned, large but normal range hips, and when I slap my rear it jiggles nicely: I watch the wave go through one cheek and into the other. Not bad... I do have two big gripes with my body this go round:
The first is my tail. It's big, furry, and black, going up to my head… and WAGGING. Seriously, I think it's a dog tail. I roll my eyes and use the Transformation feat to get rid of it, taking on my ‘social’ form, but that doesn't solve my other problem: My lower lips are a leaky faucet again. Hmm. Well… Starfinder armor is vacuum rated, and has protection for days even with low level armor. Which means, of course, that it has some method of dealing with liquids in that area… so I suit up. Now where's my ship… ah. That'll be the big area of crushed grass that could handle a couple games of football at once. I make myself invisible as I head over, and climb in.
I turn off the cloak as I start rebuilding my library of mages and crew members, using ship speakers to announce, “Anyone want a ride of of this dirt ball?”
I have my new minions feed me updates as I set them up on the ship's biometrics, and have those already set up collect the refugees. Because yes, I have biometric authentication set up on my ship: Security is rather important when you're planning on having potentially untrustworthy people on board for an extended period of time. So I build my crew, set them up with Regeneration (now that I have two talents I can apply to my shadow minions, that's an option… and it actually works, preventing them from dissipating when brought low, unlike Regeneration from other sources). I also set my minions up to be combat-capable: The Martial Companion archetype gives them combat talents (spent on making them good shiphands), but I spend most of their feats on setting them up for battle: Starfinder armor and weapon proficiencies plus Shadowstuff Armament. Further, I have my library buff them up: Regeneration (Acid) from the Nature sphere, and Permanent Transformation from Alteration to set them up with Immunity to Acid, a force field to supplement their health significantly, make them vacuum rated, and so on. I also drain the air from mission critical areas: Anyone attempting to hijack my ship had better be prepared.
Sadly, most of the Inquisition's prisoners didn't make it out in time. That ‘wonderful idea’ I had about having those I freed from the cortex bomb trackers help others escape and find me? It meant most of them were still inside when the place collapsed. They were largely buried alive, assuming they survived the detonation and shattered concrete landing on them. So the refugees I'm bringing into space with me are a scant forty folks, the ones who ran rather than help when asked….