Andrean, Deslar & Paper Gods: I AM Andrean, #1

By Jerri O'Powell

Not every female hero has to be a size zero…

Andrean, Deslar & Paper Gods

    Andrean is a shape-shifting artificial human composed of high tech nanites. She was originally conceived as a simple starship maintenance and repair robot at one with, and part of her ship. Now, as a fully evolved self-aware SAL (Sentient Artificial Lifeform), she has fashioned for herself a plus-size female nanite human body, to move thru her world with the force of presence she likes. She discovers first love in a roller-coaster, polyamorous relationship with the ship's captain, Wayne Godwynne and a 'self harmonizing', phenom, lounge songstress, Frea Star.

    While trying to hold on to their star-crossed romance they get pulled into a planetary civil war on the newly discovered world of Deslar. War is bad enough, but when it's on a world that has endowed most of its new human inhabitants with an array of god-like powers, the fate of the CRW (Confederation of Republic Worlds) and in fact the galaxy is at stake.

    Over three thousand years after the final battle over the soul mankind, between God, Satan, and Nefarious, destroys the earth, a new chapter begins. The resulting hyperspace blast from the earth's destruction flings the last of humanity into the furthest reaches of space on their surviving starships. Over a 300 years passes before these star cast seeds of mankind reclaim the stars, and begin to find each other. The first of the new worlds to find each other and reconnect old humanity on new worlds, would eventually form The Confederation of Republic Worlds. This union would be marked with the erection of the Jara Timekeeping Tower on Jara Prime, broadcasting a synced time throughout the known universe.

This is the Jara Era.

• Language: English
• Publisher: McMillian
• Release date: Jan 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201217518

Book preview

Prolog

Wayne and I were standing in the grand hall and board room of City Boss Bradley Broe. Wayne is my best friend, business partner, and ‘it’s complicated ’kinda’ boyfriend. We were finishing a delivery job, and had just rented a truck to drive the cargo from our starship, the Mach 12, to make the drop off. It was time to get paid. Three days ago I was pretty sure that city boss was an official elected title and position. Today, standing in this smokey boardroom, deep enough in the evening to be well past business hours on any world, I was not so sure. This place was still bustling and full of people. These people, at least a quarter of them, were scantily clad men, and women serving drinks, food and other services, as their attire suggested. Really, one girl’s tank top read, OCM, underscored ‘oral crotch massage’. There were so many men standing around with guns, for that matter sitting around with guns and this made me question this whole city boss thing. A quick web search would, however, reveal that Bradly Broe was indeed elected to his position. He was re-elected the past 5 terms after being appointed by the mayor to his post, after the untimely death of his predecessor.

I would like to thank you two for getting us that Roton Power Generator in such a timely fashion. The men should have it unloaded and tested already, so you fine folks can head on out whenever you get ready. I am in your debt. Make sure to grab some bacon on the way out! said a short graying man with a full but short manicured salt and pepper beard. He was wearing a suit minus the jacket,plus a vest, scrolling over documents on a tablet.

Yes sir; speaking of debt, there is the matter of our transport fee. said Wayne as one of the servers walked past us with a deep glass bowl of crispy bacon strips sticking out the top in some reservoir of clear dip at the bottom. I grabbed one as she walked by… the dip was honey. That would prove to be the high point of the day. It was almost all downhill from there.

Oh okay, yes yes payment, he said. Everyone in the room seemed to turn, and look at us and the room got quiet. People stepped away from us. You know, Roton Power Generators last for years before they need refueling, they are neat little things. Problem is they are a college flunky’s afternoon from being a very destructive weapon. You have to have a lot of paperwork to transport them legally, said Brad, putting the tablet down on the table.

Yes sir, we rushed it thru to make sure we were doing everything by the book, I said, holding up my delivery manifest on my tablet showing our documents.

That is on up there for why we need to get paid. That rush paperwork didn’t come cheap, said Wayne

That’s unfortunate, but I think I have a remedy for that debt situation,said Brad tapping his tablet. The floor under us opened up like a giant camera shutter and we fell a couple dozen feet into a slosh of sewage, construction scraps, and other folks’ corpses  who I might assume asked for payment.

You OK? asked Wayne. Standing Up and extending me his hand. I smacked his hand away and sprang to a standing position.

You know it would take more than a fall from that height to hurt me, I said.

Can't say the same for that guy, said Wayne pointing to a decomposing body with a bar of metal thru his head.

Shoulda took the bacon and vamoosed. Did you ever wonder why a job like this went to an independent, non-union, unaffiliated shipping company? When you are gone nobody will even notice, said a voice. We looked up to see Mr Broe looking down at us along with the barrels of no less than 20 weapons. This included some weapons being held by men and women with chained police badges around their necks.

It’s nothing personal kids. If it’s anything it’s just business lubricated with greed. I hope you can take some solace in the fact that your deaths will be in service to this great city. Your delivery fee will be reduced on paper saving the taxpayers thousands and putting a few dollars in our pockets at the same time. It's a win-win, well except for you of course, but you’ll be dead soon, soooo there’s that, said Mr Broe.

Gunfire rained down from overhead. I grabbed a nearby sheet of metal and tried to cover Wayne and myself but it was really coming from too many directions including ricoshay.

How are you holding up? I asked, Wayne.

It's mostly hand gun fire with a few small particle weapons, but it's got to be low wattage. It's not getting thru my Jack Suit . What about you? Asked Wayne over gunfire.

We are probably not gonna get paid for this run I said.

I’m thinking that too. At least we are just really out the docking fees and the truck rental said Wayne as shots rang out from overhead and bounced off the chamber walls.

Did you see the cops up there? Fighting would be very expensive legally and there are at least 40 armed men up there. Let's play dead. I’m setting the Jack Suit  gunshot simulation now.  You're ready he asked.

I nodded and we both fell out from under the sheet of thin metal I was holding that was already being punctured by the occasional high gauge shot or particle weapon. Wayne's Jack Suit was a protective nanite skin he wore under his clothes a lot of the time. It did more than that, being made of nanites it could change its appearance to look like whatever it needed too. It could look like anything from his being in the buff to a full business suite. It could also simulate gunshot injury, which it was doing fabulously. His fake nanite blood was splattering everywhere. I had a very similar effect going on too. It was quite the blood bath.  After a few more moments we winked and lied still.

All right, all right, you guys are just getting happy . You can stop. They're dead. Karlyle, flush the tank. It's starting to get ripe. Said Mr Broe. The firing stopped and the floor closed up over head. Wayne and I stood up just in time to drop thru a second floor and start sliding down a metal tube.

We have got to do a better job of vetting these gigs. Maybe we should join a shipping union said Wayne.

This is the 4th biggest city on the planet and we were dealing with an elected official. He has a 5 star review I said as we slid along sloshing down the tube. Soon we could hear the distinctive sound of blades shredding ruffage down the line, of which I'm sure we were intended.

Do you hear that?asked Wayne.

Yes, that's an industrial refuse shredder, searching it on the web now... got it! I see the one they ordered for this building after Mr Broe was elected. Looks liiiike, dammit this one is mostly mechanical. Even if I could hack it,we would be really lucky if I could hack it before we get there. I have got to learn more about mechanical overrides I said.

So whata we do? asked Wayne. I looked over into his soulful brown eyes.

"What we do is FUCK. You owe me for this, " I said.

WHAT!? he said.

You owe me, I said, flipping to my stomach beside him. I hopped up to my knees and then in a last second move, leaped ahead of us and landed almost in a toe touching position, catching the two spinning blades. As Wayne slid near, I transformed from my 5’-2’’ personal form to my  6’-2’’ combat ready one with greater strength. I forced the blades back apart just in time for Wayne to slide through. Once he was passed, I switched forms back to normal, released the blades and dove down the tube to catch up with Wayne.

I’m glad your Big Becka form was stronger than that blade motor,he said.

If that's what it takes to get some dick, so be it,I said. OK, to be honest I had already done the math in my head. I knew I could totally do it. There was even a 27% chance that his Jack Suit  would have even bent or broke the blades and allowed him to slide thru, especially if  they were the original 20 year old factory blades.

It had however been 104 days since the it's complicated nature of our relationship lent itself to physical romance. Sometimes you gotta call dibs where you can. We slid for another minute or so until we emptied out 100 feet or so up a cliff, out of a drain into a canyon lake. Short of the smell it was a lovely end to a terrible day. The dual moons of  Nellish 5 were out over the night waters of the lake  and the reflection was rippling all around us. I called the ship, which a few minutes later flew out over the lake and picked us up.

That evening on the ship we saw City Boss Bradly Broe give an interview about saving thousands of taxpayer dollars and thanking everyone who had worked so hard and sacrificed so much for the good of the city to get that backup generator for the Sun Hill Retirement Community. I suppose that included us. That night, I called in my tabs and Wayne made good on his debts. This was a good day in the life for us, me anyway. Weeks would pass before we got a lead on our next gig.

Chapter 1:

My Name is Andrean

My official designation is NASM-INS Model 7300, Unit 7-21. That stands for Native Autonomous Starcraft Mech - Integrated Nanite System, a 7300 model series, number 7 of 21, but you can call me Andrean. I came online and into being 13 years ago as the built-in onboard ship maintenance and repair robot for this Kaldronian Mach 12 space vessel, a medium sized multi-purpose light cargo star ship. As a 7300 model, I was top of the line. I came equipped with top shelf AI, as well as simulated programmable, gendered and non-gendered personality. Someone chose female at my first boot up and I guess I have been female ever since. I also came standard with an N.I. super frame. NI, Nanite Integration, is a system of nanobots or nanites. In short, they are microscopic, programmable,robots that can build, repair, manipulate or simulate an assortment of materials at a molecular level in some cases. For the most part this is limited only by programming and power on hand. Be it as simple as a screwdriver or wrench or as complex as a computer or holographic solid space projector.  This is an awesome build feature, especially for a repair robot which might need a hydraulic lift one minute and laser cutter the next. The NI enhancement was not only great for shipwide repairs, but was also great when it came to self repairs, on the fly tool appendages, as well as dynamic shape and size as needed. I was conceived as an all-in-one, every-tool repair robot and I was fully integrated into the ship systems. I am actually about 17% of the overall value, of an admittedly rather run of the mill ship for it's class and size. However, if you wanted a ship that would never have to go to space dock for repairs or need a mechanic, the Kaldronian line of starships was the way to go. There were plans, I have been told, for a line of star ships so big there would have been 10 of me onboard. That is before Kaldron Tech went under. That however, is a whole nother story.

There are 3 years of my existence to which I have no deep recollection, note I said, existence and not life. My memory of my first crew and flight missions are all gone. The only memories that remain are the tasks I did in ship maintenance and repairs. The last thing I remember doing for my first crew was a shipwide deep inspection. After that my internal clock log says I was offline for roughly 3 months before I came back up and was introduced to Wayne Godwynne as the new ship owner. Without a sense of self, I assume that means he owned me too.

That was about 10 years ago, 10 LONG years ago and this is where this story takes an odd turn for some, depending on your intersocial leanings… I… LOVE Wayne Godwynne. OK, that’s a lot to take in given how I look at the moment. Right now, I am nanite limb extended to roughly 8 feet tall and have 5 arms and I'm deep inside of the innards of the Mach 12. Two arms are holding a new replacement K-Chance Inhibitor, one is recalling a stream of nanobots that were keeping the old one running, and 2 arms are rapidly uncoupling the old unit from the power frame.

If you were watching this deep in the innards of the Mach 12, I might look like part of the ship. Technically in this mode, I am part of this ship. My consciousness is so integrated with all this ship's systems, I can't tell where I end and the ship begins. I can see every camera, sensor reading and life sign on the ship. Right now it's just Wayne... and kinda me... and kinda the ship, which kinda feels alive to me as part of me. Technically in this form, augmented ,Zero Default, I'm not a life, artificial or otherwise.  As I'm yanking the old unit out of the frame and putting the new one in place...I guess I feel more like the ship, like it's an extension of my body.

I locked the last bit of the unit into place, closed the service door and prepared to pull myself into the maintenance track. The track is a little more than 8 inches in diameter and lets me move through the inner workings of the ship from one end to the other and through various subsections.

Once in track mode I can move through the ship at a breakneck pace on a magnetic pulse so that I am not actually touching the walls. It is a near frictionless glide. There are very few places that I maintain that a human can even reach without disassembling the ship in ways it is NOT meant to come apart. There is an engine room where humans could do some major repairs, but honestly they would be in my way and take a lot longer. You might think having this m-track running all over the ship for me would be expensive, but it is much more economical and space efficient than building life support, sustaining crawl space and work areas in every part of the ship that needs regular maintenance. The ship ends up with 27% more usable space for living area, cargo or upgrades. You don’t have to have service hatches every 10 feet on this ship. Making myself m-track ready I compress to my tightest form combining 5 arms into 2 and recall all the nanites forming appendages and tools that were used for the last repair. I grabbed the outer edges of the hatch and pulled myself in. As I slide through the 8 inch maintenance track (m-track), I have nothing else to think of and all I can see is Wayne. Well, all I can see are his legs hanging out of a console in the cockpit. While I am aware of every single blip, boop, beep and reading in, of, or on this ship, as I round the curves of this m-track made into this ship just for me, two things are prominent in my mind. One, Wayne is wearing the belt that I got him for my 3rd birthday and Two; there are these somewhat inappropriate 3D modeling measurements that have spawned in the upper left quadrant of my mind's view. These were generated by the ship’s computers and internal cameras, kinda at my request, but more so by my subconscious that represented his super apparent junk… but I digress… Let me backup…

7300 models are full on AI which is to say you might carry on light conversation with me, and be amused by my occasional on network humor protocols, or even be comforted by me when you are injured. There was even some canned sarcasm for your minor screw ups, if you paid for that package. The basic job of my AI however was to know the ship, know how to fix it and carry out basic shipboard duties as requested by the crew. My programming  would never allow me to hurt or endanger  the crew or allow the crew to be hurt by anything or anyone within my control. In short you are not going to trick a 7300 model into doing something stupid and destructive to the ship or crew, but you are also not going to get anything resembling moral or resonable advice on your love life.  Did I mention that I love Wayne Godwynne…??? Wayne is a brilliant nanotechnology architect. I owe my self awareness to him. Within days of getting the ship he began upgrading my programming, dumping more disciplines into my core. Things that had nothing to do with ship maintenance or engineering. I got things like, human history, humor, pop culture and biology. There were dozens of uploads into my system that had nothing to do with anything at all and somehow all linked together with my new forming mind.  My internal cpu’s are 14 times more powerful than what they were at first booted up and about twice as big. Most of the upgrades, the software upgrades, were while I was up and running. I remember after the 3rd nanite hardware upgrade I saw a dock worker on Rookus 16 drop his lunch on his co-worker. I laughed, LAUGH 001, I call it now. I was becoming self aware.

Six months, 5 reboots, 4 nanite upgrades and 1 real hardware upgrade later, I was who I am now.  Three years ago I was  classified as a SAL, Sentient Artificial Lifeform. And while I have the legal right to go anywhere and do anything I want, my core was built around service to this ship. To varying degrees, depending on my nanite form the ship feels like part of me. Over the last 10 years Wayne and I have been to a lot of places and seen a lot of things. We experienced the most it’s complicated of emotions along the way. We have also modified this ship...I mean we have really modified this ship! The most important of which is that it has a nanite fabrication core, NFC, attached to the main reactor. When he got the ship it was the size of a mini fridge. It was only making nanites for my superframe, tools and minor ship repairs. Now it was part of the ship's main power core and the size of a mini-van to create nanites at a greater speed and volume. With that, not only can I change my shape and size as needed, I can take on more nanites and increase my density as needed too. This is also a boon for the ship because it allows us to alter it on the fly, more so internally than mechanically, but at times, that too. This ship is 70% faster than it was off the assembly line. It has defenses that are technically illegal for non-military ships, of a, now you see it, now you don’t, nature. Using the new greater capacity of nanites at our disposal we have the ability to alter the ship interior at will to a few different configurations. Most of the time it is quite residential, kitchen, living and dining room and a host of living quarters. On the bottom deck we have a cargo bay that we can turn into a 1200 passenger space liner ship, a 24 suite VIP passenger space and we are getting the plans to make it a 50 patient medical frigate all on the fly and in some cases within minutes.

We hustle jobs where we find them. We have posts up in all the right places all over the galaxy. We seem to be a different ship in different ads for different services, depending on the service we are advertising. It's an interesting life, exciting really. I can't say it's never dull, but just dull enough to make us appreciate the close calls and disasters as they come. Recently we have been talking about the potential money to be made in the civil wars on the fringes of the confederacy for a medical frigate. If we can find the right specs for all the equipment we would need to replicate for a medical frigate we are gonna use the NFC to scape out the ship and explore that opportunity.

That is enough about the part of me that is the ship. I myself am way more than what I was from the Kaldron factory. Not just mentally, but physically and almost metaphysically as well. As I reach the other end of the m-track my ZDF, zero default form, pops out onto the floor. My head is a cylinder and the widest part of my body in the m-track. It is attached to something that could be interpreted as a tapering shiny metal spine that everything else hinged on, just under 4 feet tall. I turned and looked around the room with 3 tiny black eyes set in a triangle formation on my face. Once out of the m-track, I can expand my chest, arms and legs to something resembling a human skeleton.  For just a few seconds I'm standing there before my nanites stream out over and around me. Within seconds my metallic skeleton is surrounded by several swirling streams of nanites that flesh me out into what Wayne and I now call my Personal Form.  I am well over a year in the making and I have a very complex model of nanobots mimicking my human female form, right down to the tissue level. We experimented with atomic and cellular level but the power cost was so high that I glowed in the dark, consuming the same energy as a hyperdrive, and costing so much mental processing power, I was for a lack of a better word, slow...bordering on stupid. Tissue levels were fine. To interact with me you couldn’t tell I was not a human female, well at least not after a year or so learning my form. Wayne insisted that I decide what I should look like. I was 4 years old when I first became self aware, a year of that with Wayne. My first personal 01-DF form was that of a young girl, about the same size as my 4 foot tall zero default form. This  proved cumbersome accompanying Wayne around different ports where children were not allowed. So just under a year and 9 major body configurations later I had settled into the shape that I have had for most of the last 7 years. My personal form is just a little over 5 foot 2 inches. While I was learning myself and learning how to work on the ship in both my Zero Default Form or ZDF, I kept finding myself in situations where I needed to get Wayne or another shipyard 's attention. Starting with Wayne but certainly with some crossover effect, I noticed breast size, commanded that attention. More breasts, more attention, approximately a 1 to 1, boob to head ratio opened the door.  Subconsciously at first, I altered my shape a little at the time to get things done, and finally settled into a room commanding 1.5 to 1, boob to head ratio. Just for my own sense of symmetry and balance I gave myself balancing thick hips and buttocks. This proved to be advantageous when I found it necessary to leap and or flip out of harm's way in the course of a day's adventure, as well as in more intimate interactions in the future both with and without Wayne.

I found that when Wayne was working on something nowadays, a loose fitting mechanic’s jumper was less distracting for him, but to be honest I was way more comfortable, full human feelings in tow, in a more revealing set of attire, maybe short pants and half shirts. However, where we are now in our its complicated relationship, it was awkward to say the least. I knew Wayne was working on the navigation system so after a brief stroll to the cockpit in comfortable nanite fabricated gear, I re-ordered them into what was a compromise of somewhat form fitting, soft, shiny, blue material, jumper with big pockets, fully planning to re-order them again into the standard baggy gear, jumper after he drew his head from under the console.

I got the new K-Chance Inhibitor in place and the old one is being recycled in the NFC core as we speak, I Said.

I thought I heard you coming up...here. A hand reached from under the console of the cockpit holding a nanite container. The cylinder was filled with what appeared to be light gray sand. This was unassigned inactive nanobots or nanites. I replaced that magnetic storm nav filter we nano-simulated last month with the real one we picked up a couple stops back. Ours was good but this real one should be soooo much better. I’m almost done, said Wayne.

I picked up the canisters and pressed a button on top of the canister which opened a thumb-sized whole. The nanobots in the container swirled around and formed a stream to my hand and promptly disappeared into it like water into a sponge. Within a few seconds the container was empty, to which I confirmed it too was a nanite construction. To this, the container itself dissolved into a stream and it too vanished into my hand.

Do we actually have any more ‘real’ small nanite containers, I asked.

A couple, he replied. But you know I can’t tell’em apart; a container is a container as far as I’m concerned, he said.

But just like the real nav filter, a real containers are better. Nanites are delicate and vulnerable, unshielded. I know the replicated canisters are shielded, but it is at such a lower level. A rogue nano-craft pulse could make these baby’s into anything and…

Yeah Yeah I know,'' he interrupted, We are 100 light years from anything, we two hours into hyperspace and we have you to take care of these babies," he said, sliding out from under the console with a small tool box and wiping his hands in a cloth.

Wayne was a handsome rugged man with a close beard and mix of 5 oclock shadow. He sat up and placed a last few things into his tool box.

Did you recall all of that, and the container, he asked standing up.

I was just morphing my attire to the baggy blue, non shiny, mech jumper.

Are you changing again for me? I told you, you don’t have to do that. It’s ok, He Said.

It's called being considerate, I said. It's unfortunate that my prefered ‘personal’ appearance is one that you... and who am I kidding, sooo many others find arousing, it's a compromise.

Oh yeah, so thoughtful of you. You can change your shape at will, but you change your clothes?

Right Right, but my body, my call, but you know what, I do have these extra nanites on me now, maybe I can do something with those to change my body.  I coooould be a little taller, I said, growing 6 inches. I coooould make my boobs bigger than you like," I said, shrinking back to my default height and growing my chest out to almost twice it's size.

Wayne's mouth fell a little agape and he quickly struggled NOT to be so obviously dazzled.

Right right right, that’s right we have not actually defined what is TOO big for you. How abooooout a bigger I said, shrinking my boobs and growing my back side, if I increase my assets, I said, switching my double sized booty at him and forcing him to fall into his pilot seat. From his seated position he tapped a few buttons on his WPC (wrist personal computer) screen.

I was suddenly met with great intestinal distress and let out a deep grunt. I doubled over and grabbed my tummy as my pants ripped open at the seat. I’m sure I looked like an  adult cartoon pooping out the small nanite container from my oversized bouncing buns

Ooooooowe!

Wayne caught the container which then filled with a stream of recalled nanites out of my backside. When it was done my ass had shrunk back to it’s still plus sized default. My pants however remained ripped. 

Shit Wayne, I’m in Personal Form, fucking HUMAN! That hurt! What did you do?

Nanite timestamp recall, 30 seconds. It went back to the configuration it was 30 seconds ago. You are right about nanite vulnerability. You should have encrypted control once you recalled them into your body. What if I were a terrorist? Wayne laughed. I morphed my pants back into shape and snatched the container from Wayne and walked out of the cockpit.

Ass! I said walking out!

Yep!, That is correct, he said still laughing. Our relationship is…complicated.

I love Wayne and Wayne loves me but to be as generally open minded as he is, he doesn't want to be one of those guys. One of those guys in love with an anatomically correct machine, worse yet one of his own creations.

There are those weird guys out there like that. Some are innocent enough to start. You know, getting an android modeled after their dead wife to help with the kids and 15 years later, kids out of the house and he’s still banging this machine that is the perfect little wife. She does everything they say and never grows old. I get it.Those things (anatomically correct anyway) are banned on some worlds. On some planets however, harsh mining planets and worlds with illegal sex trade, they are plenty common. You run into men and women in love with whatever piece of machine they can afford. I don’t blame Wayne. It's where he comes from. Wayne was raised on Dellan, a light industrial and agricultural world that from a galactic standpoint was somewhat conservative leaning. Sex trade was illegal on most of the planet and 3 out of 4 of it's moons.

Anatomically correct androids were an immoral indulgence at the lease if not outright illegale on a lot of worlds. Consequently, whatever he has and does feel for me is somewhat... complicated. I am a sentient inorganic life form. That’s different. I'm different. There was a time when we… we were…everything." On a scale of 1 to 10, we were a 12. There was nothing between us. Well the only thing between us was the glue. The glue that made us one. I know I have been  self-aware for only 9 years, but that seems like a lifetime ago now.

I walked to the NFC alcove near the steps down to the engine bay. For the most part it was two screen touch terminals and a set of 5 rows by 4 circular storage slots for nanite containers. The first 4 rows were about the size of the container Wayne just gave me. I slid the container into an empty place in the wall. The last two rows had larger cylinders that appeared to house much larger containers. There was also a recession in the wall with a disk in the ceiling and one in the floor. This was the main place to create larger nanite fabrications ,or any 7300 model could draw,store, charge, replace and upgrade it’s nanites.

In my default personal form I was limited in my integration with the ship to a visual and audio level, as if I were human. This made my mind feel and behave more human. A quick wave of my hand created a detailed view of all shipboard readouts in a curved dashboard in a half circle around my head, well in my eyes anyway. A quick scan of everything  and I waved it away. A look down at my wrist caused a blue tattoo to appear in a circle that read ‘57%.‘ I thought about it for a second and , stepped back onto the NFC control panel recession. In a second the flesh that made up my personal form began to flow away in a stream of nanites into the ducts above and below. For a few seconds I was in something close to my Zero Default Form.This was my 02 Default Form. It was like my ZDF and my 01-DF, but with extensions to my frame to one very closely resembling the skeleton of a 5’2’’ human female. After a few seconds there was a beep from the touch console. Then, the nanites swirled from the floor and from the ceiling and first seemed to refresh my nanite skeletal frame, quickly followed by muscle, internal organs, and pumping red blood. In an instant I am  wrapped in perfect tan skin. A moment later with a shake of my head, black shiny curls fall down around my face, eyes still shining from nanite fabrication. My hair goes down to about mid back, and  neatly manicured around my womanhood, all. I have a second to look down and see my nipples, (long enough to be serious eye hazzard) as the nanites color them and they darken to specs. All this a second before my lite blue baggy starship mechanic jumpsuit wraps me. 

My personal form is human, short of the industrial strength, nuclear power core rugged internal ZDF. In fact, if you cut me, I bleed. If I get stabbed through my simulated human heart, it would be excruciating (at least until nano-reset and repaired it) but wouldn't kill me. It's just part of my ‘human experience’. A crate falling on my toe would break it and hurt like hell, because it was simulated human bone. This form has been crafted for the complete human experience. I can even eat, and poop, via the same duct, Wayne had just exploited to expel that nanite canister.

Pulling up my sleeve showed briefly the tat on my wrist read 100% with flames around the zeros, before it faded away. Just at that moment two short tones echoed through the halls of the ship. A quick wipe of the air in front of me brought up my HUD (Heads Up Display) of the ship systems. After a quick check, I swiped it away and started off through the ship. A moment later I hopped into the co-pilot seat next to Wayne, just as the forward view went from a grey blurred with white streaks, to black space with a large white and green planet dominating most of the forward visible space.

"I’ll get us a dock pad as close to downtown Russole as I can,'' I said, swiping away at the console.

Good, in just a bit, we should be in sat range for me to make a private channel to our contact, said Wayne. A few moments later an automated voice acknowledged that port pad 7G had been secured for 6 hours. The Mach12 zipped thru the upper atmosphere of the planet's cloud and in a little bit was flying in one of a few criss-crossing streams of ships flying over a bustling metropolis between skyscrapers and patches of green air scrubbing super forests.

Auto landing engaged. Welcome to Hawngweall 3, Russole. The local time is 27:19. You will be landing in 10 minutes and 43 seconds, said the ship.

I don’t foresee there being any trouble but my handgun permit is good here and I’m gonna be packing and you might wanna pack a little extra jack & juice if you are going in, personal," said Wayne. That was his way of suggesting I download some densely packed nanites and a power cell in case I needed to stunt. The extra nanites would allow me to do simple things like increase my muscle density for strength stunts or increase my density and size. My AI core has a 150 year battery so we don’t worry about that. An additional power cell, a real power cell, (nanites are terrible at replicating batteries they lose 60% of their power just taking on that chemical replication), allows me to indulge an array of physical and energy stunts. On a full charge in my personal form, I could go days without recharging maybe a week or more. Personal mode also allows me to eat, albeit oversized portions and convert that to energy for the nanites. However, when I’m running on converted energy, I'm really pretty much limited to what a human of my size can do and not even the ability to change form. Back in the old days nanites used to lose their structure when they lost power. First gen nanites could build things at an almost atomic level given the raw materials to work with and that would of course be a permanent creation, say like a hammer created by nanites from steel filings. But, nanites mimicking a steel hammer would turn to a pile of inactive nanites when their charge was depleted. Dozens of generations later nanites can replicate a material so well that even without power it continues to be a slightly inferior version of what it was mimicking. When my nanites lose their charge in my personal form, I'm pretty much just human, a very smart, synthetic human.

I walked to the forward gangplank hatch where there was an NFC duct. Raising my hand a stream of nanites poured into my hand and disappeared beneath my skin. Wayne walked up in a Hawngweallian business suit putting his hand gun into his inside pocket. I morphed my jumper into a cleavage rich female business suit of a slightly lighter color than Wayne’s. I then took my power cell/WPC (wrist personal computer) made up to look like a regular WPC off it's wall peg. The only real difference was that instead of being nearly weightless it weighed about 20lbs. The super-dense battery could power an electric motor bike 1000 miles. It was just the kind of extra juice I needed in case something went sideways.

We looked like the power couple we wanted to be. There was a slight thud and the forward gangplank opened and we walked down the spaceport pad.

It was a busy port bustling with pilots, dock droids moving hover pallets and various species of travelers. We were very overdressed. We made our way to the giant