Reroll

I slip into a “soldier” build shadow for dinner (if I'm going to eat, I need a stomach) and tweak it with some illusions so I look like I belong with my family.

We dine in the ship's crew’s mess… and as these are luxury accommodations, that basically works out to having a very nice restaurant all to ourselves. Technically, the food is all synthesized from the UPBs that the crew not actively running the ship spit out working in the Industry, but it certainly seems perfectly normal when I'm eating it.

They're a little surprised when I explain how it works, “Just order whatever you want at the machine in the wall; it has a store of programmable matter that it will convert into whatever you ask,” UPBs produced in the Industry by the crew. “It can only do food and drinks, and it can't get you actual aged wine or anything, but you can get basically anything you want within those restrictions,” although I haven't actually tried it, not needing to eat.

“So… it's got like hamburger and stuff back there that it'll cook up?” Dad doesn't watch much sci-fi.

I chuckle, “Better. Here…” I press the button, “I'll have a well-done sixteen ounce steak with sweet potatoes on the side, and a beer please.” In thirty-six seconds, it's done, cranking out each item at a rate of twelve seconds per, complete with a plate, silverware, and glass bottle.  There's a bit of a sparkly effect as the items build up from the bottom up, accompanied by a sound reminiscent of a wind chime.

I gesture, and Dad takes them out, sets them on the table, and takes a quick sampling of each.  He pauses a bit, then looks at Mom, “your cooking is better… but I could get used to this.”

After that, we all say grace, and everyone starts going at it in earnest.  Mom has Calamari, a Ceasar Salad, and white wine.  

Sarah pauses before she orders, “I'm only eighteen….”

Mom laughs, “We’re kind of outside US jurisdiction right now… and if you're old enough to fight and die for your country, as far as I'm concerned you're old enough to have a stiff drink. Just don't overdo it.”

Sarah smiles, and orders a pepperoni pizza and a glass of mead.  Sam follows suit and gets a lobster and red wine.  Me? I go with a chicken pot pie and a glass of milk.  We all have fun eating, talking about nothing of note, having dessert… and then everyone turns in for the night.  I do stop and take a picture of them all in good health, however. I figure I'll have fun with it later.

Well… I don't turn in: I don't sleep.  Instead, I contact the Computers minion I tasked with handling the email, “What were you able to dig up?”

“Mid range executive from the old Inquisition in the states, name of Reuben West.  You want to call him?”

Tempting… “Not yet. Do you have his full information?”

“Oh yeah. I worked my way into his phone, laptop, social media accounts, bank accounts, Roman Web services account… that's how he found you, by the way.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“He took all the recordings of your public appearances he could find and the listing of missing persons at the college, then scraped all the public data on all the missing person's social media accounts.  He then took that data, and had a very primitive VI run word-choice, timing, and pronunciation analysis on it all.  Your old self rated a ninety-six percent match, the next down was forty-seven.  He racked up a hundred grand in service charges running the program, but…”

“...but it worked,” I complete.

“Yeah. Per his diary, the clincher was when the men he sent to interrogate your family came home in body bags, flash frozen solid in early summer.”

“So… if I hadn't tried to protect my family, they would have just had a scare, not ended up dead?”

“You don't know that, boss. Like… is your Dad prone to defending himself?”

“Oh yeah, he was in the military.”

“Aha.  And if his family was on the line, is he the type to stop caring about his own safety?”

“Yes…”

“Then he just would have died earlier, and the interrogation probably would have involved the rape of your sisters. The guys he hired… well, I got their rap sheets if you want to see them.”

I pause for a good long while, “No… and thank you.”

“No problem boss.”

“Please send me Reuben's picture.”

I get a notification from my comm as my minion says, “Done.”

I pull up the message, and yes, a nice picture of a fat balding black guy in a silk suit.  Hmm… how do I want to play this… I've run across ant-teleportation wards with these guys, so I don't want to just pop on over, although my dragon does know Greater Teleport… ah, I got it.

I head over to an empty cargo bay, and lock the door.  I then get my Pashas out… both of them. They're tall: Eleven feet tall, more than twice my height.  That aside, they look mostly human… or at least, like statues of humans.  Their skin looks like polished marble, and their eyes like agates. They're both female, and topless… and due to the more unreal appearance, I find I'm not reacting as much as I did with the others. Handy.

I give them some instructions as I switch to an ‘Alice’ appearence, “I need a Wish.”

“What would you like, boss?” they say in unison, in deep voices that sound like rocks falling down a mountain.

I put the picture of Reuben West on a personal comm’s screen, and show them, “I Wish this man, Reuben West, to be transported here, now.”

“Your Wish is my command…” they both say.

Now, Wish is a fun spell (or a “fun” spell, if you try to go too far).  It does have a list of safe options, however… one of which is “transport travelers,” which includes the clause “from anywhere, to anywhere, regardless of local conditions.”  It even had a mention of what happens if someone doesn't want to go: They get a Will save to stay where they are.

Now, a Pasha's statistics aren't great: The save is easy, as far as ninth level spell effects go… but that's why I used two… and I still don't get him on the first try.  But that's okay - I can recharge my minions’ abilities indefinitely, and I have all night.  It doesn't take that long, though: I get him on the third Wish.

He's nude… apparently a bath?  Hot, because his face is flushed… wait, no, he's not wet, except down… which is also at full attention… ah.  He was enjoying someone's company… and he just made a sticky mess on my floor.

“Oh, yeah, that's…” he pauses, “wait… where… YOU!” He curses at me, using a rather insulting word associated with women… then charges and actually tries to hit me.

He hits armor: I barely feel it. Initially, I respond with just two words, “Hold him.” My Pashas obey, grabbing him by the arms and literally lifting him off his feet.

I consider him for a bit as he curses, screams, and threatens.  Annoyed, I use my flexible talents from Primarcane to nab the Alteration sphere and Twisted Shapeshift, using them for Vocal Theft, removing his ability to speak.

“That will only last a few minutes, Mr. West. But I can change that… and I think I will, in a bit.  You see, you went after my family.  And got them, even.  However…” I pull up the picture from dinner on a comm, and show him, “I'm a healer the likes of which the world hasn't seen in millenia.  Life, death… the border is easily crossed,  both directions. It's kind of amusing, really… had you not killed them, I would have never sat down to dinner with them again, for fear of getting them killed by someone like you… and now, that's no longer a concern. In a way, I should thank you.”

Oh, another B-movie villian stereotype to tick off: Monologuing!

I put the comm away, and smile, “Now, that put me in a good mood, so I was just going to bring you up here, rub it in your face hat you're powerless, and send you home.  Doesn't that sound nice?”

Naked, unable to speak, and suspended in the air by his arms, he nods very emphatically.

“But then you had to go and spoil my mood. All those insults, focusing on the woman thing, treating that as bad… I'm still a man inside, so that hurt… and you're not even saying sorry.”

It looks like he's trying, though… oh well.

I smile, “The bad news is I've decided I'm not going to kill you.”

He smiles hugely for moment, then pauses, and scrunches up his face.  I take the time to get my Library out for a few key talents: The Alteration sphere, Twisted Shapeshift, and Permanent Transformation, among others.

I chuckle, “You'll understand in a bit why that's bad news.”

I apply the hostile transformation on him, turning HER into a white male fantasy… a fetish fantasy.  Cow ears and a tail, eight milk makers running down his front, each the size of a soccer ball. No hands or feet, just hooves, and I tweak Vocal Theft a bit so all she can do is moo.  And yes, this time? I use Permanent Transformation so it's just what she is now.

I use Create Reality to make a mirror, so MS. West can see what she has become.  She moos in horror.  And moos again when she hears herself.

“Oh, I'm not done,” I tease, “that fresh new plumbing of yours needs to be broken in.  Sadly, I'm not equipped… but that's okay.  I think I know how to handle it.”

I look up at my Pashas, “I Wish for Ms. West here to be transported to a slave pen in one of those third world African countries where they still engage in such behavior.”

There is a look of absolute terror on Ms. West's face as my paintings intine, “Granted,” and Ms. West vanishes.

I recharge my two minions, put them away, and head back to my cabin.  As I'm in the hall passing my family's quarters, the world changes….