Finding a job

I focus on Fallen Fey this time. I keep the Destruction blast, but otherwise go all in: Greater Link (to keep the things I pick up for an hour), Long Step (because teleportation gets me out of jams), Feline Omens (for the cat shadow, it's actually pretty nasty), and Pixie Sticks (self-healing, if slow). Then I start flying towards town… at night, when my dark coloration should make things easier.

Unfortunately, this means I'm a little tired when I finally arrive.

Still… it's a town. I just need to convince someone with a small ship that I'm worth fronting a uniform and hiring on… and I actually am a competent pilot, engineer, or science officer… at least for being a first level plebe. I'm also competent enough at lying, and can do magic.

I reconsider the wisdom of asking for such a place when I lay eyes on it: The town is a handful of slapdash buildings thrown together from whatever they could find: Wood, hull metal, sheet metal, rocks… it's ugly. Still… I'm pretty sure that place with all the free-roaming drunks is a bar. Should be a good place to find work… as a naked woman who looks like… ugh.

Hmm.

I perch on the roof and wait. Soon enough, yes, a drunk guy stumbles out of the bar and collapses **** a bit away from the place. It's not a great way to get starting gear, but I have literally nothing outside my own skin. You know, until five minutes after I am confident enough that nobody's looking. After that, I have one flight suit stationwear (it's barely armor at all, but it will keep air on not that I need any; it covers me, though), one cestus battleglove (basically a glove with a metal plate to help with hitting things), one survival knife (good for woodcarving too…), and one tactical semi-auto pistol (a basic handgun, really) with 27 rounds, all worth about five hundred sixty credits new… which these are VERY much not. But hey: I can summon tools, and I have time. I take a couple hours, clean it all up, factory default the built-in comm unit, check for bugs, smash a tracker, check for lice, kill the lice, UV off the bacteria, file off serial numbers, wash everything, remove identifying marks, and fit the armor to myself. I still look ridiculous, but at least I'm covered. And I did leave the guy with his actual clothes… which is more than I had.

When I'm done, I am really tired, and go set up a shelter in the forest to rest… well off the regular lanes, this time.

When I wake, I drink my breakfast (which is a serious violation of Conservation of Energy, but apparently that's divine shenanigans for you… and really fun), wash up, and head into the bar myself. It's a mess: The same slapdash construction as outside, but at least there's a recognizable bar and barstools… just, you know, in six different styles.

I figure if this is anything like seedy bars at home, I won't even need to…

My thoughts are interrupted by a guy handing me a drink, “So, beautiful, how much for a night?”

Ugh. This man's got two flexible antennae growing out of his forehead, is bald, and has some odd coloration on the skin of his head, but otherwise looks human: He's a lashunta… who also has beer breath and really needs a shower. Still, everyone's a potential employer, “It's not my body I'm selling,” I cast Toolkit to summon an Engineering kit to hand, “I'm looking for work, yes, but I'm more interested in a starship to get off this rock.” Preferably a small one where I'll have at least some officer duties. I need XP!

He blinks, “You're a Technomancer.”

Nope. “Something like that: I do know my way around technology. I am certainly an engineer and computer tech who can do magic.”

He steps back and sizes me up, “You seem a bit wet behind the ears….”

I'm guessing he's judging by my gear… but hey, I got it here, so… “Everybody's gotta start somewhere.”

I can practically see the gears turning in his head; he definitely is looking for a way into my pants, “Our ship is small and not very luxurious… but I can speak with the captain; we could certainly use a good engineer, ours went down in the last battle, and the rest of us don't know how to fix the ship up.” He smiles, “but there's a lot of good engineers here, I'd wager, If you're an especially good girl…”

He trails off, as I have a knife to his throat, “I am NOT selling my body. Is. That. Clear?”

“Crystal,” his voice cracks, “I'll go speak with the captain…”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” I chuckle as he makes his retreat.

The scene repeats over a dozen times with minor variations over the course of the next few hours, and eventually, yes, I do sign on with a small crew….