Unnamed Sci-Fi Mechsuit story

Chapter 01 – Calm

Alarm’s sucked.

Groaing, I rolled over and pulled myself out of bed. The base’s AI, Ever Vigiliant, or Evi as she was called among the various teams of researchers, mercenaries and soldiers, would end the alarm only once it was apparent I was in my lousy excuse of a uniform.

The standard issue jumpsuit had long since been abandoned, since mercenaries weren’t expected to follow the uniform regulations. So long as we had our I.D.s and our Group Insignias on, the few brass who were stationed here would tolerate most behaviour, even if it set some bad examples for their subordinates. Ids were for when individuals needed discipline (as well as allowing us into our respective bunk rooms)

The brass weren’t happy to spend 10 years here, since check ins were rare once the Higher Ups made the base self reliant. But the Mercenaries and the Soldiers typically enjoyed the work, since it paid ridiculously well due to its remoteness in a strange xenosphere and gave us mercs a roof over our heads for a while.
Obviously for all the perks there were some negatives, like the local xeno-flora and fauna and the incredible boredom. But we had a stable Relay connection and a one-time use escape portal in the off chance of a necessary evacuation, so unlike some of the other bases in our situation, we had it much better.

“Evi, love, as its quite apparent I’m awake, could you tone it down a notch?” I asked, hoping I was the first awake, since Evi was more inclined to be generous to first responders.
As I slipped into my customised Skimmer jumpsuit, the Alarm outside my bunkroom kept blaring at its incessant volume, it was now at a tolerable yet annoying pitch in the room.

“Remind me to buy you a drink during my next off recreational shift.”
A message flashed across the small mirror above the alarm.

Sweetie, you owe me several.

I laughed. ‘Sweetie’ was the nickname she gave to those she planned on favouring for the day. The few times I managed it was during my Birthday, or on the days where I’m the only merc not making a fool of themself. Wasn’t often, since I was one of the few Polys on board who had a really fast regenerative rate.

“Too true. Well, you are able to influence scheduling, and you have eyes all over, so why not arrange for us to have a drink together?”

The lights on the mirror cycled a few colours, one of the ways she expressed a groan when not in one of her android or gynoid bodies.

A new message scrawled along the mirror.

Because its no fun that way. You are one of the few buggers who I can never track down in my ‘droid body, so its become quite the vexing challenge, one which I’m determined to win.

I smirked, before finally getting ready.
I still hadn’t lost my curves since that bender that required my body to be more feminine, so a bra was also required, my smirk quickly fading.
As enjoyable as the bags of fat on my chest could be in the right hands (and mouths and other appendages), I had a subconscious like of bigger sizes.

Which made my job as Skimmer pilot much harder, since high speed jumps and corkscrews through the air, despite being a bloody good time, also gave gravity the bad habit of treating these things as their playtoy, but my job as a merc much easier.

Plus it made me a popular choice with the male crew, if I needed things.

Hey, if you’ve got it, use it so long as you aren’t screwing anyone over.

Plus size to the bigger bra my chest required today meant I was also allowed a knife sheathe or two.
Brass wouldn’t be happy, but my Bosses always preferred me to have a knife or ten on hand.

Evi colour-groaned again, but I didn’t receive a demerit message, so she didn’t report it.
I also checked myself out, to see how my regen rate was going.


I’m whats called a ‘Poly’, or ‘Polymoprh’. Its a bad term, since it doesn’t describe us well at all, but its the only term that gets the ‘Oh I understand’ lights to flicker in most people’s mind, so I’m stuck with it until we get back to Constant space.
I’m human, technically. Somewhere in my ancestry is some Great Old One genetics. I’m inclined to believe I’m of the Chaotic Crawler’s lineage, since theres rumor it once appeared as a silver haired girl and courted some dude.
Considering my own silvery hair that I can control to a minor degree, and the fact that a lot of my features are determined by what I want them to be, it makes a lot more sense I’m of the Crawler’s line than some of the others.
Basically, Polymorphic Humanoids are humans who, for all genetic purposes, are human, but display some heteromoprhic or even polymorphic traits.


Most Polys are outright shapeshifters, who can feed on any form of biological material. Makes us popular on these sort of missions, since we can be fed on sexual fluids if needed, though its outright rude to expect us to only sate ourselves that way.
However, if that is listed as part of our job, we expect to be paid handsomely.

I’m not so lucky. My body can store sexual fluid to aid in my transitions, but I get no sustenance from it. I did luck out on having a fast regen rate, which enables me to transition back to my preferred form quicker than the other Ploys like me. Also meant I could survive a lot of fatal damage so long as my body tissue was connected, in theory.

I stocked a few extra ration bars into the bum bag attached to the skimmer jumpsuit. I needed to put on more weight to help my regen rate burn through this transition.

It looked like I was being feminine for the next few days.

I sighed, before coercing my hair into a short ponytail. I was tempted for an anime-styled tech savvy look, but skimmer duty tended to ruin any look I might’ve wanted to try, so a ponytail would suffice.

Donning the SKIM-EXO rig, I checked my diagnostics to make sure I synced up with both Evi’s systems and the Lab Ship I’d end up doing guard and recon work for today.

End Chapter – Vanguard of the new Lords

A storm quickly brewed, followed by a crash of lightning. Out from the crater strode a woman, physical lightning in holsters on her thighs.

Then the sea surged up near the lightning warrior, and a woman wielding a tentacle Trident stood besides the warrior.

Finally, dark dust rose from the ground, flora, fauna and even ourselves, and coalesced into the form of a young laidback woman, no obvious weapon at her side, as she stood between the warrior and the mage.