Marion's waiting. Time for a ball.

Tearing your gaze from the brothel's wrought-iron gate, which featured engravings of women in various states of undress, you decided to head back to the hotel. There, you showered, shaved and threw on your formal clothes. You guessed your outfit would be a little atypical, but you had a feeling you were gonna stick out like a sore thumb tonight anyway, even if you were dressed head to toe in the latest Imperial fashions.

Leaving the hotel, you head to the speeder rental place you saw on your tour of the city. Putting down an few florins, you rent a flashy red model until tomorrow. At least you'll be travelling in style.

The pricey speeder's engine purrs as you leave the city in it. According to the maps you pulled from the Imperial extranet, the estate is only a short distance outside the city.

You tear down quiet country roads, as the sun sets over the fields. You're really enjoying pushing the speeder to it's limits. Luckily, there seems to be very little wildlife on this moon to watch out for.

Before to long, you arrive at a mansion that's too sprawling and fancy to belong to anyone but the Duchess. Parking up, you scan the area for your date.

You find Marion standing alone, not too far from the gate.

Without her military gear, the captain looks quite different. Like a human being.

A rather radiant human being, at that. Marion is wearing a long red dress. It's not as form-fitting as her black jumpsuit (what could be?), but it's damn close. It certainly outlines her hips very nicely. Instead of the energy weapon normally at her hip, Marion has a purse.

The garment tries to downplay Marion's endowment in the chest area, but the gods had simply gifted Marion too much in that department to ever make her bust appear small, fashionably or otherwise.

“Looking good, cap!” You whistle, approaching Marion.

“You don't look so bad yourself, Halloway.” Is the response you expect to hear. Instead, Marion regards you with a grimace.

“You couldn't have bought some Imperial clothing?” Marion asks. “You look like a clown.”

“I can juggle like one too.” You reply. “You might be glad of that if this party's as boring as I think it's gonna be.”

“Can we go inside? Maybe I'll find you more bearable after some wine.” Marion sighs.

Sounds like a plan, you think happily. Though she refuses your arm, Marion walks alongside you to the gate. She presents her invitation, and the two of you are admitted.

You admire the grounds as you walk towards the mansion. Until now, you've only ever seen such splendour in holovids. There are artistically sculpted hedgerows, rare plants, statues of various women encrusted with blue gemstones. You idly calculate how much you could get for one of these gem-covered goddesses on various planets' black markets. Enough to retire comfortably, you imagine.

You're a little taken aback by the look of the women attending the ball. Though they range in age, most of them are rather pretty. The vast majority of women are slim, and flat chested. There are a few curvier girls like Marion, but they're surely outliers. In fact, as you pass close by a few noblewomen, you notice they all seem to have eyes the same shade of green. Whether by contact lenses or surgery, the women had adopted the eye colour of their ruler. In hair colour, at least, there seemed to be a touch more variation. A number of redheads and dark-haired women mingled, though Marion was the sole blonde. However, nearly every woman, Marion included, wore their hair in the same way. Falling in long, straight locks around their shoulders. You recognised it from the Empress' profile on her legal tender.

You knew it was fashionable to imitate Katherine, but to see so many Imperials in one spot, aping her, was quite unusual to you.

“This is spooky.” You whisper to Marion. It was almost like a costume party, where every woman had decided to come as the same character.

“This is ordinary.” Marion insisted.

As you entered the building proper, you were at least pleased to see the normal sights and sounds of any decent party. Good booze, music, attractive women. Though none caught your eye as much as your date.

One thing in particular drew your eye: in the corner of the room where a few tables where nobles of both genders played cards. What particularly interested you was coin changing hands. You fancied yourself quite the cards player. Fleecing some rich assholes would almost certainly make your night.

“What's going on over there?” You ask, pointing at the tables.

“Goddess' Grace.” Marion explained. “The Duchess holds a small competition at every ball. People play for cash.”

You were now doubly intrigued. You'd never heard of Goddess' Grace in your life, but you had a gut feeling, possibly unfounded, that you could beat any of these clowns at it. After all, rich people couldn't play cards.

Of course, card games weren't what you'd come to this ball to do. That was standing close beside you in a rather lovely red dress.