I pull on the plain cloak that covers me to my ankles and tug the hood over my hair. I have a pair of gloves I’ve been saving for such an occasion, ones that won’t tug at the delicate webbing between my fingers but still cover the bright red of my skin. And then comes the last piece of my disguise. A delicate mask goes over my face, loops behind the points of my ears, and activates when I have it on. It creates a holographic illusion, superimposing the features of a frog like race called the “ooli” over mine. If anyone bothers to look under my hood, they won’t see Helen the qura’aki, but Helen the ooli. Milly even gave me identification chips that would override my existing wrist ones if I press my thumb to my forefinger, confirming my ooli presence.
Disguised, I feel clever and ready to explore. I just need my blaster now, since I’m told the rolling pin is a bad idea.
I open the door to my room and hear the sound of voices. Mathiras sounds like he’s talking to someone over by the door. I catch other voices, too, but I’m less interested in them. I’ll just get myself a blaster and join Mathiras. Before I can, though, the door to the bridge opens and Adiron steps out. His eyes widen at the sight of me, and I can see the confusion on his face. “Uhhhh.”
“It’s me, Helen,” I whisper-hiss. “Helen the ooli.”
He squints at me and then grabs my hand, tugging me toward him. He doesn’t say anything, just plants a big hand over my face and then rubs it over my face. While I sputter, he grunts. “Huh. Okay. That’s a pretty good disguise.”
“I’m smart,” I agree, pleased with myself. “And I need a blaster since I’m going with Mathiras.”
“You can have mine,” he tells me. He unhooks his blaster from his belt and hitches it at my waist. “One thing, though. If you want this costume to work, don’t announce yourself as ‘Helen the ooli.’ Just call yourself Helen.”
“Right. Okay.” I pat the blaster as it settles on my hip. It feels nice and comfortable there. “Should I wait here for Mathiras?”
“Why wait?” Adiron grins. “I think you should give him a big froggy kiss.”
Even I know that’s not a good idea. “You coming?”
“No, I’m going to stay on the bridge. Matty doesn’t like it when I interfere with the authorities. I got us arrested once and he never forgets it.” He rolls his eyes. “You should probably catch up so he can take you on station, though.”
“Okay, see you soon.” I settle my cloak around my body again, then head for the doors to the Sister. I’m learning that every ship seems to have a similar layout. The bridge is at the front, and behind that a maintenance room and a lavatory. After that, there’s an exterior door with a ramp leading out. Then comes the crew quarters, rec rooms and mess, and at the very back is the cargo bay. So I casually head for the exterior door, feeling pretty good about my disguise.
I round the corner and see Mathiras, arms crossed in annoyance, talking with a few males in unfamiliar uniforms. One is punching information into a data-pad while another peers at the ship itself. A third walks down the hall past me, nodding as he does. He doesn’t even bat an eye in my direction, and I get more excited about my disguise.
“Any contraband you wish to declare?” the one with the data-pad asks. The men are more mesakkah, just like Mathiras and Adiron. They seem bored with their job, barely glancing at me as I walk up.
“None,” Mathiras states, and then looks over at me.
He blinks. Twice.
I smile brightly at him, moving to hug his arm. “I’m ready to go to the station,” I announce. And then just in case it’s not clear who I am, I look over at the station employees and offer, “I’m his lover.”
“I don’t care what kind of freaky shit you two are into,” the one with the data-pad declares. “I’m just here to do my job. Are all your weapons registered? Do you have any unlawful passengers on board? Any substances we should be aware of?”
“No and no.” Mathiras’s hand covers the one I place on his arm. “Now, if you don’t mind, I owe my female a night out. Do you require anything else? My brother will be happy to guide you around the ship.”
“Just let me scan your identification and we’ll have you on your way.” He holds out his data-pad, waiting. Mathiras doesn’t flinch, just puts his hand over it and lets them scan. I immediately hold my hand out, pressing my thumb against my forefinger to activate the ooli version of my identification. When we’re done, the station employee nods and heads down the hall. “Our audit should be completed in approximately six to eight standard hours.”