Mortimer finished Mutan's "fix" for this month without too much difficulty, with it she wouldn't age. Although he hoped this one wouldn't cause a bad reaction like earlier... which 'bleached' away her tan and dark hair when she was 21, also turned her eyes red; a sign of losing all melanin production in her body.

He remembered how her older sister would pick on her "gray hair" when she first learned of the condition. Although he insisted that going on a reduced dosage of anagathics for a few years would allow her skin-color to return to normal without suffering withdrawal-aging, Mutan was quite insistent to continue at full-dosage; that in a few decades, she would get the last laugh and her older sister would be the old-hag she truly is.

(fun trick, it's possible through anagathics to successfully go through 20-36 career-terms/80-144 years without aging a single day or being forced to muster-out, while building skill, however, if/when the supply is cut completely...)

[hr]

Isaac eventually took Adria's earlier advice and took a quick shower while his commpad played [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoass6XxJwk]something to keep him from falling asleep[/url] and missing Mutan's appointment before grabbing his semi-formal wear of a red long-sleeved shirt, grey pants, suspenders, tie, and a brown long-coat before snatching-up his flight-hemlet and heading for the hangar, double-checking for writing on the back to make sure it wasn't Adria's.

[hr]
Adria took a bit more time to prepare, even managing to put her hair back in a ponytail. As usual, she dressed in layers to hide what little armor she would bring. The Flak-jacket was just too informal for trying to impress royalty, she was the ship's chief engineer, not some mindless kluge.

At the very basic level were undergarments to prevent chaffing and sagging while wicking away perspiration, her signature smart-mesh went on next and over that went her old blue dress-uniform topped with a black coat. Accessories included an officer's cutlass on her hip and a pair of knives tucked into each Wellington-boot.

Inside the ship's boat already sat a rather lavishly decorated interior pool-hall, while collapsible-furniture lined the hangar-walls.

Adria of course, did not forget her own helmet and breather-mask, which had scrawled on the back from her days in the Navy...

[center]Stop screaming
[sup]I'm scared too[/sup][/center]