(Note #1: All comments and constructive criticisms are welcome and appreciated.

Note #2: Those of you wishing for a quick story to wank to will want to look elsewhere. Although chapter  7 and chapters 9 to 12 of this story featured the characters fooling around, the next few chapters won’t see anybody getting their freak on. If you want to skip ahead, the sexual shenanigans will commence again in Chapter 16.

Note #3: The first illustration on this chapter was created by Faith Deaky. All others are by Steve Rayner.

Note #4: And finally, thanks to volunteer Literotica editor TheNyxianLily for her help with editing.)

The Ravenfang had been docked for less than an hour before a loading crew arrived to take possession of her cargo. After seeing his finance account had received the payment he was expecting, Sal allowed them to proceed. They were accompanied by a quartet of robots that hovered about twenty meters above the ship. Calley assumed they were customs robots scanning the ship for contraband but they were still there three hours later when Governor Madzen finally arrived. Calley wasn’t too tired by that point but she’d been the last to wake up the day before. Sal and Alezanna had been awake much longer and the captain, especially, was starting to show the effects of exhaustion. When Madzen arrived, he’d been awake 24 hours and was looking forward to resting. If Alezanna was feeling the effects of the long day, she wasn’t letting it show.

The politician arrived with an entourage of four. Two were obviously bodyguards, though why the woman needed guards was questionable. She stood 180 cm tall, the same height as Alezanna. But where the Bellixan was tall and slender, Margraite Madzen had the powerful build Vottonians were known for. They were a slave race bred for heavy labour or combat and Madzen certainly looked the part. Calley, with her medtech’s eye, would have guessed her weight at over a hundred kilograms. Her military uniform showed off muscular arms. There were stories of Vottonians tearing off their enemies’ limbs when they were enraged. Calley had been doubtful about them but looking at Madzen, she re-evaluated her opinion. She estimated that, had she been standing side by side with Alezanna, the combined width of their bodies wouldn’t have covered the distance between the governor’s shoulders.

The Vottonian’s legs were not as long as Alezanna’s, so she had a much thicker body. Thick in muscle, that is. If the lady had any fat on her, it was well-hidden. Her chest was broad, her hips wide and her legs as thick as tree trunks. Like all Vottonians, her skin was charcoal grey.

She was dressed in a generic olive-green mercenary uniform not unlike many Calley had seen throughout the cycles. The only difference was that the governor’s included clear signs of rank. A red sash was draped across her chest, cutting from her right shoulder to her left hip. A gold chain was anchored on the left lapel of her uniform’s collar. The chain looped around her shoulder twice. A wide yellow belt wrapped itself around her waist. A large pistol holster was attached to the left side of the belt with the grip facing forward. A mace hung from the belt’s right side. The wicked contours of the mace’s head indicated this was not a ceremonial badge of office but a real weapon.

The uniform’s jacket lacked any medals or badges. Both its shoulders featured patches present on her bodyguards’ uniforms as well. Calley would later learn that the left shoulder’s patch represented Madzen’s mercenary company while the other was that of the Rangxu System Defense Forces. The jacket split past the waist and both sides of it ended a little over the woman’s thighs. Her pants matched the colour of the jacket and were loose-fitting down to the knee, where they became very snug. They tucked into the governor’s shiny black combat boots that came up to mid-calf. The woman’s hair was whitish-gray and stringy, coming down to the top of her neck. Most of it was tucked into a grey beret with her company’s crest on its side.

Her bodyguards were dressed in a similar uniform. The main difference was the lack of ornament on theirs. They wore no sash, no chain and their belts were standard combat belts. They had long daggers on the right hip and gun holsters on the left. Otherwise, the uniforms had the same patches, colours and style. Both bodyguards were men. Not Vottonians, but muscular humans with hard features and stocky physiques. Their eyes were constantly scanning their environment, no doubt looking for threats.

The next member of the group was a small human male with dark hair and a rosy complexion. He was only a few centimetres taller than Calley, with his facial features giving him an ever-present hangdog expression. He wore the same beret as the others but was dressed in a simple tan business suit. The jacket was open to reveal a shiny pink shirt underneath it and the socks showing out from his clean brown shoes were the same colour. Some of Alezanna’s expertise in clothing had rubbed off on Calley and she guessed the man’s outfit was tailored and probably expensive.

The final member of the party was a beautiful teal-skinned woman with forest green curly hair that went down to the small of her back. Calley noticed a resemblance in her facial features to the governor, though the similarities ended there. This woman looked to be about Calley’s age, and while she looked very fit, her figure suggested a swimmer as opposed to the governor’s power-lifter. She was dressed in a spotless white short-sleeved blouse that showed off her well-toned arms. She stood about 170cm tall, and the yellow skirt she wore stopped just above her knee, showing off sexy legs to good effect. Her waist was adorned with a shiny thin gold belt with some accessories attached to it. She was wearing small pink socks that didn’t go past her ankles along with a pair of grey loafers. Unlike the other members of her group, she was smiling and looked very friendly. The others looked like they were on their way to a robbery.

Calley and her crewmates had been lounging in the cockpit when Sal had spotted the approaching group. The trio quickly made their way outside to meet their visitors. The two groups met up about twenty meters from the Ravenfang. They stopped two meters away from each other as they faced off. The two bodyguards had their hands on their gun holsters as they eyed Sal. It was only then that Calley realized the captain was wearing his gunbelt. Sal came to the same realization and raised his hands to the level of his chest to keep them away from his pistol. One of the bodyguards stepped forward and took the pistol away.

When he’d stepped back into his position behind the governor, she admonished Sal, “Bad form, Collondo. Ya don’t meet a politician with your gun showing. If ya wanna earn some starcred representing me, you’re gonna hafta do better than that.”

“Sorry, Madam Governor,” the captain said. While he’d seemed tired not long before, Madzen’s arrival appeared to have sharpened him up again. “I’m still getting used to thinking of you as a head of state. And besides, you know damn well that all I’d accomplish by shooting you is pissing you off.”

The governor and the other woman smiled at that as Madzen stepped forward and hugged the spacer, lifting him off the ground as she did so. “I missed ya Sal! Ya coming here reminds me of the old days!” She put him down and stepped back to look him over. “But here I am messing up your fine clothes. I gotta say, Collondo, ya do clean up nice.”

“I could say the same for you. But why didn’t you tell me you were governor when we made the deal for the plating?”

“’Cause that was a private deal that’s for my company, not the government. If it was a government deal, ya’d of had to be certified as a reputable contractor and tons of bureaucratic shit like that. And don’t pretend like ya wouldn’t have jacked up the price, ya chiseller! Besides, ya told me a long time ago that when you’re making a deal, ya let the other guy know what he needs to know about‘cha and nothing else, remember?”

“Not really, but that sure sounds like something I’d say. Well, congratulations on the new career. And is that Coslove I see skulking around back there?”

“Hello, Captain.” the man in the business suit greeted him without his face betraying any emotion.

“Glad to see you were wrong about how every mission was gonna get you killed.” Sal continued on.

“Despite the governor’s best efforts,” Coslove added.

“He was always too smart to die.” Governor Madzen said. “He’s my Chief of Staff now. He’ll be briefing ya on the guys I want’cha to negotiate with. And did ya recognize my social secretary?” she said, indicating the woman on her left.

The captain looked at the woman quizzically before admitting, “Can’t say that I did. I think I’d remember such a lovely young lady if we’d met before.”

The younger woman told him, “I looked very different when you last saw me, Captain Collondo. I looked a lot more like Mom back then.”

Sal’s eyes widened as he realized who he was looking at. “Little Daznee?” he asked in astonishment. “Gods! Look at you! I expected you to grow up, but not like this!” He stepped forward to give her a hug.

“Yeah, she looked like what a typical Vottonian kid might until she hit puberty,” Governor Madzen explained. “Then the genes of her fathers kicked in and she ended up looking like this instead.”

“Lucky for me!” Daznee opined as Sal broke their hug to look her over. “My skin changed colour, my hair too and then the rest of me filled out different than we ever thought it would.” She twirled around, her arms outstretched to give everyone a good look at her. “Not bad, huh?”

“You look great, honey,” Sal told her before asking her mother, “I don’t suppose you’d be in the market for two Verrazo dresses instead of just the one?”

Madzen looked pained as she answered, “Unfortunately, yeah. She overheard your first mate offer me a Verrazo so of course she wants one too.”

Daznee turned to her mother and asked, “Why just one? If we have access to a Verrazo designer, why not take advantage? Her sister said we were lucky to—”

“You wanna shut the fuck up, please?” Madzen quickly told her daughter. If she looked heartbroken at the thought of what she’d be spending on two dresses, she was absolutely horrified at the prospective cost of more. “I don’t wanna hafta buy this jerk a brand-new star-cruiser just ‘cause ya wanna fill up your closet.”

Sal had obviously appraised his negotiating position as being advantageous. He asked the governor “Why stop at one cruiser? I think ‘Commodore Collondo’ has a very nice ring to it.”

The governor turned to her daughter and said, “See? This is why ya keep your Godsdamn mouth shut while your elders are negotiating. Your loose lips just cost me a bundle. It’s a Godsdamn good thing his ship is about ta collapse or I’d have no leverage over him at all.”

“The Ravenfang’s not as bad off as she looks,” the captain informed them both. Calley could tell that, all good-natured kidding aside, he was geared up to negotiate seriously.

However, it was Coslove who pointed out, “Those robots hovering above your ship, Captain, are anti-incendiary units. They’re there because they sense your ship might burst into flames at any moment.”

Sal looked over his shoulder at the robots the man was referring to and then told him, “Your robots are paranoid.”

“They’re programmed not to be,” Madzen’s Chief of Staff calmly informed him.

“Fine!” Sal conceded. “There’ll be room to negotiate on both sides when we talk about the price of our services to each other.”

“Good!” the Governor declared as she turned her attention to Alezanna. “Now this must be Alezanna Verrazo. Nice dress,” she said as she looked the Bellixan up and down. “Is Sal’s outfit your doing too?”

“One of my lesser efforts,” the mechanic admitted. “In our line of work, there’s not much call for flashier ensembles. Now politics, on the other hand, is something that requires clothes that send out a strong message.”

“Sure,” the Vottonian agreed. “And what kinda message are ya gonna have me send out?”

“I wouldn’t presume to tell you, Madam Governor. You’ll tell me what you want your dress to say and I’ll design it appropriately.”

The politician nodded and smiled as she considered what the spacer had said. “And what message am I sending out right now?” she asked.

Without hesitating, the Bellixan answered, “That you’re a mercenary leader with a terrible colour sense. About the only thing I like about your uniform is the lack of ostentatious decoration. It would be flash for the sake of flash. Worse, it would be trying to suggest strength. Why suggest what should be obvious just by looking at you? The red sash, the chain and the belt, they’re ceremonial and not something you wore before becoming governor, aren’t they?

The question lingered in the air as no one else spoke for a moment. All others assembled were surprised at how honest and direct Alezanna’s statement had been. Even the bodyguards looked a little stunned at what the beautiful spacer had said.

The governor shook her head and exclaimed, “Godsdamn girl! Ya don’t hold nothing back, do ya? Well, good for ya. I don’t want no yes-woman too scared to tell me when I look like shit. I guess I can give ya a shot. Whaddya wanna do to get started?”

“I’ll need you to step inside where I can take some measurements of you and your daughter. Take some holoscans while I’m at it. We can talk about what you want me to make for you and why you want it. I’ll give you an idea of what I have in mind and how long it’ll take me to make it. If you like my proposal, you and Sal can haggle over what it’s worth. I trust him to represent me fairly.”

“Okay then. Sal, ya mind if Ghotto here looks around your ship before we go in? Gotta make sure there’s no assassins waiting inside for me.”

Sal shrugged and said, “I have no problem with that.”

One of the bodyguards trotted forward and entered the ship as the governor turned to look at Calley. “And who’s this?”

“Calley Vanmussen, ma’am. I mean, Madam Governor,” the Gynapsi said, inwardly admonishing herself for her lapse in decorum. Without thinking, she fished out her datapad and presented it to the politician.

“Oh, I don’t need your—” the larger woman began before changing her mind and looking over the offered item. “Ah, fuck it, let’s see what— You’re a medtech? Level 4 at your age? Ya must’a got a damned early start.”

“Had to learn to make a living, Governor Madzen.”

“Well, that’s the way of the universe, ain’t it? Hells, I thought ya might be Verrazo’s assistant or a model or something. But you’re a working spacer just like these two. Good on ya. That’s about as honest a way ta make a living as I know.”

She flipped the datapad back to Calley before turning back to Sal. “But what happened ta Goppu and Garroll?”

“Goppu retired a couple of cycles ago,” Collondo told her. “Settled down on Dabocran. Garroll died of liver failure about nine cycles ago. Couple of cycles after you last saw me.”

“I’m not surprised,” the governor admitted. “Ya could tell just by looking at ‘em he wasn’t gonna last long. Some people just shouldn’t drink so much. But what can ya do? Well, nice to hear about Goppu. Tough ol’ bastard. Even I was scared of that blunderblaster a’ his, and I don’t scare easy. Remember when he shot it in that bar fight on Thierom?”

“Blew a hole in the wall big enough for us to jump through,” the captain remembered with a laugh. “Coslove, you were there for that too. You remember it?”

“Vividly,” the man answered dryly. Calley was rapidly getting the impression this was a man of few words and less expressions.

“Looks like Ghotto’s giving us the all clear,” Madzen announced as she looked over to the Ravenfang. The group of seven walked towards the ship, Madzen in the lead alongside Sal. Behind them came Alezanna and the other bodyguard, while Calley, Daznee Madzen and Coslove made up the rear.

“Find any contraband?” the governor asked Ghotto as she approached the ship’s lowered gangplank.

“No contraband,” he answered in a high-pitched voice Calley was surprised to hear come out of such a big man. “Had to stow some weaponry in one of the cargo holds. Gonna have to ask everybody not to go in there while we’re aboard.”

”I already seen the holds anyway,” the politician assured him. She looked back at Alezanna and asked her “Where we gonna do this sizing thing, Verrazo?”

“The bedroom should do fine Madam Governor. The men can discuss politics and finance while Calley and I size you up and do the important work.”

“I don’t like that, ma’am,” the other bodyguard objected in a rumbling voice. “Leaving you alone is a security risk.”

“No Phawley, you seeing Daz and me in our skivvies is the risk,” Madzen sharply told him. “I’d havta gouge your eyes out and rip off your jaw to keep ya from telling people what’cha saw. Nothing personal, but that’s just how we Vottonians roll. But dont’cha worry. If the seamstress pokes me with a sewing needle, I’ll call ya in right away.”

They entered the ship and the women left Sal, Coslove and the bodyguards in the common area. The ladies made their way to the bedroom where Alezanna bade Madzen remove her uniform. The governor did so and the Bellixan immediately started taking measurements and announcing them out loud while looking her over. Calley entered what the designer was saying into her datapad and was careful to keep her eyes downcast otherwise. The governor noticed Calley’s behavior and asked her “Ya got a problem with bigger women, honey?”

“No, Madam Governor,” the young spacer assured  her. “I just don’t want to offend you. If you gouge out people’s eyeballs for seeing you undressed…”

The Vottonian burst out laughing and told her, “I don’t, kid. That’s just something I told Phawley ta keep him outta here. Him and his brother are good men. Loyal. But they dunno shit about shit.”

“Oh!” said a relieved Calley as she allowed herself to look at Madzen again. “I thought maybe it was something about Vottonian culture I didn’t know about.”

“’Cause there ain’t no such thing ta know. Vottonians ain’t been around long enough to develop a culture yet. Doesn’t help that most of us are still slaves. So if ya hear me telling somebody anything ‘bout ‘my people this’ or ‘my people that’, ya can pretty much bet that I’m fulla crap. I’m a politician, kid. We exaggerate, we stretch the truth, we even flat-out lie sometimes. Ya can’t trust anything we say. How long ya been running with Sal?”

“A little over a cycle now.”

“Ever listen ta him hammer out a deal?”

“Oh yes!”

“Well, I’m like that,” the politician told her. “But with me, it’s all the time. Ya can’t believe half of what I say. And even the other half ya gotta be sceptical about. So don’t worry about seeing me in my underwear. I ain’t never hurt nobody over that.”

“And the same goes for me,” added Daznee, who had likewise stripped down to her bra and underwear to get sized up by Alezanna. “If Mom killed everybody who saw me like this or wearing even less, there’d be entire neighborhoods in the other stations that’d be deserted.”

“Kinda wish you’d stay outta those places, Daznee,” her mother told her. “You wanna go out dancing, fine, go dancing. Why ya gotta lose your clothes when ya do it?”

“Moooom!” her daughter said in exasperation. “That was only one time! And I wasn’t even the only one! Yutag, Mix and I dunno how many other women did the same thing. Nobody paid any attention to who I was.”

“I doubt that,” the governor grumbled. Calley shot Alezanna a look and saw her smile. Both women understood that this particular argument between the Vottonian women was nothing new.

The Bellixan finished sizing up the governor and grabbed a holoscanner from the armoire. As she took holo-pics of the politician, Madzen still seemed a little grumpy as she told Alezanna, “If ya wanna cover up all my scars, you’re gonna hafta use a lot of fabric, Ms. Verrazo. I dunno what you’re gonna do ‘cause I don’t wanna be wrapped up head to toe.”

“I wouldn’t dream of covering them up,” the fashion designer assured her client. “I come from a culture of duellists. We’re used to scars. A noble with no scars is a coward who’s never fought. A noble with too many is one who’s lost too many times. But someone with a few like you is a fighter who’s fought hard and won. That’s something to show off, not hide.”

The Vottonian chuckled as Alezanna indicated she should sit on the bed to cede her place to her daughter. The politician did so while Calley and Alezanna took the younger Vottonian’s measurements as they had her mother’s. Madzen looked around the room without bothering to get dressed again for the moment. As the two spacers continued, the governor asked Alezanna, “So what about you, Verrazo? When d’ya get roped into running with Sal?”

“Eight-and-a-half cycles ago. But please call me ‘Alezanna’. I’ve only recently felt comfortable using my family name again.”

“Yeah, about that…” the politician said before hesitating. It was the first time Calley had seen the woman look unsure about anything. Still, Madzen continued on. “I hadta kill my owner and go on the run to become a free woman. His family put out a bounty on me, but I figured if they were all dead though, there’d be nobody to pay out that price on my head. Eventually, the family backed off but not before I killed a bunch of ‘em. And with all that, the price on my head never got anywhere close ta the one that I saw’d been posted on yours. Now, your bounty ain’t there no more, so you don’t need ta worry about me getting all greedy and pulling no shit. But as a merc, I gotta ask, outta professional curiosity, what in the seven Hells did ya do to get that much heat on ya? Was it some kinda Bellixan family business that I wouldn’t understand?”

As Madzen had brought up Alezanna’s past, Calley had tensed up. She knew her friend didn’t always like talking about it. But the mechtech didn’t seem the slightest bit upset as she told the Vottonian, “If you were a slave, I think you’d understand better than most. I was promised in marriage to a real monster of a man. Nobody consulted me about it. I didn’t like the idea of what I could look forward to, so I ran away. I didn’t have to kill anybody to do it, though. Not at first, anyway. But if I’d of had to, I don’t know that it would have stopped me. Does that sound familiar to you, Governor?”

“It does Alezanna,” Madzen answered gravely. “It fuckin’ well does. I saw you were on the run a long time before your shit got settled. Sal help you with that, did he?”

“He did. I owe him everything.”

“And is that when ya shacked up with him?”

Calley was a little surprised at Madzen’s question. Not because of how direct it was, as that seemed to be in accord with the woman’s personality. But at how she was so sure that Alezanna and Sal were lovers. But then she realized that the door to the armoire was open, and that three sets of clothes were visible inside. Calley also realized in that moment that it was obvious that she too slept in this room with her shipmates.

“Pretty much,” the Bellixan confirmed.

“Ya taking good care of him?” the politician asked Alezanna.

The older woman smiled and said “We all take good care of each other.” If there was any doubt that the three of us are together, thought Calley, there it went.

“Good,” Madzen stated. “Don’t tell the asshole this, but I’m pretty fond ‘a him. Glad to see he’s got good love in his life. If you’re with Sal, you’re all right by me. And since we’re on a first name basis, you can call me ‘Margraite’ when it’s just us or Sal. That goes for you too, Calley.”

“Thank you Madam… Margraite.” Calley said with a quick bow of her head. The correct decorum regarding this woman was changing too quickly for the young medtech to correctly adapt to.

“Wow Mom,” Daznee observed, “you don’t even let Coslove call you by your first name.”

“Sure I do!” Margraite corrected her. “He just don’t do it with other people around. When it’s just him and me, he’ll do it sometimes. Usually when he’s warning me I’m makin’ a mistake ‘bout something. When he uses my first name, I always calm the fuck down and pay close attention to what he’s tellin’ me.”

“Does he wear that tan suit a lot?” Alezanna asked the governor.

The woman considered the question a moment before answering. “Yeah, I think so. Also a blue one sometimes. I don’t really pay attention to that kinda stuff. Why you wanna know?”

“Tan would look good on you,” the Bellixan explained. Having finished measuring and scanning Daznee, the seamstress turned her attention back to the elder Vottonian. “But I don’t want to dress you in a colour that someone else is wearing. Especially if he’s a member of your retinue. I suppose you could order him to avoid wearing that suit, but that seems a little extreme.”

“I don’t think politicians use their power that way,” Madzen scoffed.

“You’ve never dealt with a Bellixan Grand Duchess. But we don’t need to go to such measures when there’s plenty of other colours we can use. Definitely something pale though. Are you required to wear that red sash at diplomatic functions?”

“It’s kinda traditional, yeah. And honestly, I kinda like wearin’ it. I worked hard enough to earn the Godsdamn thing.”

The dark-haired spacer nodded and said, “All right, I’ll work it in. What about the chain and the belt? Do you normally meet other diplomats wearing them?”

“Not really. I wasn’t kidding when I told Sal you don’t wear weapons to meetings like that. And the chain is something from my merc days. Reminds me of where I came from. I started wearin’ it when I put together my own company. I guess I can go without it when making nice with other jerks. Do I gotta lose the hat too?”

Alezanna picked the beret up off the bed and looked it over. She decided, “No, I don’t think so. Grey’s not a bad colour for headwear. And a little reminder of who you are Is no bad thing.”

“Okay then, Alezanna,“ the governor said as she stood up again. “Now, I know ya want me to tell ya what the dress should be telling people, but I don’t know shit about the language ‘a clothes. Maybe we have it say that I can be nice so long as ya don’t piss me off. Whaddya think of that?”

Looking Madzen in the eyes, Alezanna told her, “It’s going to be a simple dress. No need to bury you in layers. Fairly short. Maybe down to your knees, but no longer. You look intimidating and I assume that’s an advantage in your line of work. So we’ll soften up that edge a little. Let people know you can destroy them if they step out of line, but that you can be peaceful too. Elegant femininity can ease some tensions so let’s use it to our advantage. Does that sound interesting to you, Margraite?”

The politician grinned and looked over at her daughter as if to confirm that the younger Vottonian was as impressed with Alezanna as she was. “That sounds damn good ta me, girl. This is gonna be one Hell of a dress, ain’t it?”

“Several Hells, if I can manage it,” the raven-haired beauty promised her. Then she had a flash of inspiration, raised her right hand and snapped its fingers. “Peach!” she exclaimed. “What do you think of peach?”

“I think it’s something ya eat.” Margraite told her.

“A peach-colored dress. It’ll contrast your dark skin without clashing with it. The sash won’t look out of place and we can repurpose the chain to wrap it around your hips as a belt. You’ll look amazing!”

The Vottonian tried to picture what Alezanna was describing but seemed unsure. “I dunno. Never wore no peaches before. You gonna give me a drawing or a pic or somethin’ before ya start makin’ it?”

“Of course! I’ll have a concept image to show you the day after tomorrow. Now as for you, Miss Daznee…”

“Just ‘Daznee’, Alezanna,” the younger woman told her. “I’m not a politician and I don’t have a title. I just want my clothes to make me look good and tell people that I like to have fun.”

“Well making you look good will be easy,” the designer declared before adding critically “But you’re all over the place with your colours. With your skin tone, I’ll use a different palate than with your mother’s dress. But we’ll have to narrow it down to two or three main shades. More than that and you might as well be performing tricks in a carnival.”

“HA!” Margraite burst out as she obviously approved of Alezanna’s opinion. Daznee seemed not to take any offense but to consider what the Bellixan had said seriously. She put her head down and chewed on her right thumbnail as her brow furrowed in thought. She looked sideways at Calley for a moment and then seemed to have an idea.

“Calley here has such beautiful gold skin. Could you make me a gold-coloured dress? Real shimmery? I think I’d look awfully good in that. Full-length. Maybe some white gloves or something to go with it.”

Alezanna nodded as she listened and said, “Full-length and shimmery I can certainly see. That’ll suit you well. Not sure about gold as the main colour. What about white? That blouse you were wearing really brings out your skin in a pleasing way.”

Both Margraite and Daznee shook their heads at the Bellixan’s suggestion. “Nobody wears too much white in this system,” Daznee explained. “The settlers wore it on holy days and that continues to this day. You wear a white outfit at your wedding or your funeral now. The rest of the time, you always make sure to not wear too much white.”

“Unless you’re one of the Holy Sisters of the Thirteen Shrines,” her mother interjected. “They wear white robes all the time. Dunno how they keep ‘em so clean. But those women take vows of celibacy and my Daznee ain’t that kinda of woman. Takes after her mother, in that sense. And thank the Gods for it! The last thing I need is my daughter trying to act as my conscience,” she finished with a laugh.

Alezanna took in the information and mused for an instant before asking Daznee, “What about cream? Would there be any problems with that shade? Or very light silver. Those are other ones that would go well with your complexion. I could add a nice gold belt, nicer than your current one. A long pair of gold gloves and some nice gold shoes too. Yes, I think that could work quite well.

“So do I!” Daznee exclaimed. “And for the second one—”

“Whoa whoa whoa there kiddo!” Margraite interrupted her. “We ain’t decided on any second dress yet. You may want more than one, and this lady seems to have some good ideas on that front,” she said, referring to Alezanna. ”But let’s not forget who’s paying for all this.”

Daznee took in a breath and was about to object but her mother continued with, “Tell ya what: Alezanna and me’ll go talk ta Sal, figure out how much these clothes will set us back against how much he wants his ship fixed up. If I can get a good deal outta him, maybe get a discount for multiple items, I can see about ya having more than a single dress. But no promises! The bastard negotiates like a Bronsonian bovine.”

“Okay Mom.” her daughter agreed. Her mood brightened by Margraite’s proposal, she asked, “Is it okay if, while you do that, Calley shows me the cockpit?”

The governor looked up at the young medic who silently indicated she had no objections. “Sure,” the politician said as she started to get dressed again. As Daznee did the same, the elder Vottonian turned to Alezanna and warned her, “One thing though; Don’t make her dress show off her tits. She does enough ‘a that on her own.”

“Mom!” exclaimed an exasperated Daznee as Calley and Alezanna both failed to hide their smiles.

NEXT CHAPTER: Calley makes a friend.