Epilogue

Sangeeta appraised her body in the mirror. Thanks to the benefits of military grade nanomeds, save a few worry lines around the eyes, she didn't look much older than the day she had reported for duty, fifty-five years ago. She was no longer the starry-eyed teen who had dreamed of piloting a space fighter in glorious combat, however. The glamour had worn off that dream even before she finished sim training.

Now, she had lost too many friends and comrades to think of her job as glorious or romantic. Still she took pride in what she had helped to accomplish. There had been, too, that other secret desire - that one thing that only she and the MIs knew about.

As she gazed with appreciation on her firm, flat stomach, flaring hips and, she had to admit, beautiful face, she began to wonder if that dream, too, might finally be coming true. Her light olive skin flushed even darker as she thought of the night ahead.

It was impossible, of course. Her breasts were too small to be considered voluptuous, and no one would find her close-cropped hair sexy. Still, it never hurt to dream. Her reverie was interrupted by her personal MI.

You are, by most human standards, quite beautiful, Commander, and your courage and intelligence put you far ahead of most other women of Earth origin. If you have completed your inventory, however, you might wish to don some clothing. Commodore McClintock has left his cabin and is on his way here.

"Oh, shit!" Sangeeta cried, rushing to get into the unfamiliar feminine underthings and the skirt and blouse, all of Earth manufacture. Even before joining the military, she had never owned such an outfit, and it took some discreet advice from her MI to get them on as they were intended to be worn.

She finished just as her MI announced that Commodore McClintock was at the door to her quarters. She took one more quick glance at the mirror and - stopped dead in her tracks.

That - that can't be me! she thought as she gazed at her reflected image. Even with her spacer's haircut, the woman in the mirror looked absolutely stunning!

It is, indeed, you, Commander. Or perhaps for the evening, I should call you Ms. Olsen, her MI communicated. As I said earlier, you are quite beautiful by Earth standards. Even beautiful women, however, do not keep the Grand Admiral waiting in the corridor.

For the evening, Sangeeta laughed, feeling suddenly giddy, call me Sangeeta. And what shall I call you?

She authorized the cabin's MI to open the door as her MI answered, You may call me James.

Wish me luck, James, she told the MI as she held out her hand in invitation to Colin, who stood in the open entryway, as stunned by her transformation as she had been only moments before.

"Ms. Olsen," he managed, finally, "Sangeeta. My God, you look ravishing!"

He looked older than her, Sangeeta had to admit, like a fifty year-old Uncle with a teenaged niece, but the real difference in their ages was more like a century. Such considerations, however, given the longevity promised by their nanomeds, were of little consequence except in comparison with pre-Chofri times. At seventy two, she was no spring chicken, herself, and every girl in the galaxy still gushed over the ruggedly handsome Commodore.

Recovering quickly, Colin offered his arm, saying, "Shall we go? I took the liberty of making reservations for us."

"Of course," Sangeeta replied, slipping her slender arm into his.

Her head barely came to his shoulder, and anyone who didn't understand the nature of the modifications made to military personnel in the modern fleet would have thought her frail and fragile. To have acted on such assumptions, however, would have been fatal to an unenhanced human.

"Where are we going, Commodore?" Sangeeta asked.

"Colin, please," he answered. "I have made reservations for us at a restaurant that I've been assured is the best in the Earth Union."

Since they were in the Sol system, Sangeeta assumed that the restaurant would be on Earth, and was surprised when the shuttle deposited them on a space platform in polar orbit around a small, walnut shaped body that appeared, at first glance, to be embedded within the rings of Saturn.

"Welcome to Pan Station," a tuxedo-clad maitre d'hotel told them as they emerged from the small shuttle dock. The entire station appeared to be constructed from a transparent material and the close-up view of Saturn and its rings was stunning. "We are, of course, in orbit around the moonlet, Pan, within the Encke gap of Saturn's rings. For you, Commodore, and the lovely lady, tonight's dinner and entertainment are complimentary. This is our way of showing our gratitude to you and your courageous fleet."

"Thank you," Colin replied. "This is Commander Sangeeta Olsen, who led the fighter wing which captured the Gorz support fleet, and destroyed their air support in the battle for Bates' World."

It was a subtle notice to the maitre d' and through him, the rest of the restaurant's staff, that Colin was not the only one there deserving their respect.

"Of course," the maitre d' never faltered, "Commander, Admiral, this way, if you please. Whatever you desire that is within our power to provide shall be yours this evening. Simply have your MI notify ours and it is done. You will not be disturbed by humans except when food or beverage is to be served. The stage area provides continuous entertainment, but should you desire more intimate amusements..."