so I reach out and grab the box sitting in a cradle running along the bottom of the twitchy drone.
Turning, I kick the door shut quickly because I don’t really care for the drones they use aboard this battle ship. They can’t seem to hold still long enough for a person to interact with them. They also have two blinking oculars that are way too much like eyes to suit me. They look really beat up as well. I expect one to explode in my damn face one day if I’m not real careful.
Thumping the box down on the table, I release the magnetic seal. Everything is magnetized here, right down to the clothing closures. Easy access and no tape waste is a plus in my opinion.
Inside I find clothing. I frown because that man did not need to provide for me like I’m some indigent. I have a fully functional wardrobe. Lifting out the first item, I hold it out to get a better look. The top part looks like a black uniform, but it’s got more decoration than any uniform I’ve seen anyone wear on this ship. I can barely make out light armor plating that’s been worked between the inner and outer layer. The bottom is made of long triangular swaths of fabric that would probably strike me right below the knee. It’s rather pretty for a dress. The problem is I don’t wear dresses.
Sitting it aside, I pull out the next item. Excitement strums through my chest when I realize these are the pants that go with the upper part. It’s a cross between a uniform and a gown like the other women wear. When I see the matching black boots, I’m sold. The fabric is plush like velvet, and soft as a baby’s bottom.
Tearing off my clothing, I slip the new outfit on and step into the black boots. God knows that I’m no fashionista like my daughter, but I absolutely love the way this looks and feels. Tears fill my eyes as I realize that Borak is probably the only person in the entire universe who truly gets me. I turn back and forth, seeing how the garment flows in the shiny metal wall of my quarters. The damn thing makes me look like some kind of action hero. Maybe that’s why I like it.
Going back to the box, I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and pull the rest of the stuff out. There are several more cool uniform gowns, a stack of underthings and long gowns that can only be described as lingerie. They’re light, soft and he’s sent several different colors for me to choose from. Tucked away in the bottom of the box is what appears to be an oversized jewelry case. Jewelry is another thing I don’t do but I open it anyways.
I begin to tear up all over again because he’s had someone craft nice gemstone necklaces that are clearly designed to jazz up the suits he sent. Instead of being colorful gemstones cut for brilliance, they’re all smooth cabochon in muted colors. This man of mine is reading my mind. Dropping down into a chair, I flip through the packets until I find one with deep red stones set in silver metal. Sliding it from the package, I drape it around my neck. It’s heavy, a substantial piece that I can see myself wearing throughout the years.
I know how the men are around these parts. They positively glow with pride when their queens wear the fancy gowns and expensive jewelry they provide. I’m guessing it’s some kind of possessive dragon thing. Suddenly, I want to see that smug, contented expression on my man’s face. Borak’s a genuinely nice person and deserves to feel good about taking care of his woman. I know that sounds old fashioned, but I feel it’s the right decision all the way down to my bones.
I take a minute to hang up my new things and stow away the extra jewels. I’m not exactly a neat freak, but being in the military for so many years trained me to keep things sorted as I go.
Once I’m finished, I head out to meet Borak. I believe he’s got something interesting to show me about our route from Earth to Onello, because he requested that we meet in the cartography room he likes so much.
When I cross the threshold, my feet come to a stop. He’s standing near a round table with