Empire's Legacy

Chapter 18: Disguise

Amy knocked on Kate's partially open door and then slid the hatch aside. "Got a minute?" she asked, poking her head inside.

Kate was curled up on her bed, reading a tattered antique book. Her face lit up when she saw Amy. "Come in!" she exclaimed, folding down the corner of her page and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Grey said you'd be coming. I'm so glad you're back." She gave Amy an enthusiastic hug, which the older woman gingerly returned.

"Did Grey tell you what I needed?" Amy asked, perching on the edge of the bed.

"Not exactly," Kate said, crossing her legs and leaning forward. "Just that part of the epically amazing plan he won't tell us anything about means you need a disguise. Very mysterious. But it's something I can help you with!"

"Which is very sweet of you, but I'm not sure why Grey thought you'd be more help than anyone else," Amy said, picking at a loose thread in Kate's blanket. "I should have raided my brother's things before leaving Idylla."

"Idylla has such tedious customs officials," Kate said. "I, on the other hand, have a collection from all over the Commission." She slid off the bed and pulled a box from beneath the frame. Flipping open the lid, she eyed Amy critically and then said, "Blonde, I think," and whipped a blonde wig out of a tangle of different hair colors.

Amy took the wig and turned it over in her hands. "Should I ask why you happen to have—" She peered into the box and counted colors of hair. "—six different wigs on hand?"

Kate laughed. "Benji and I like to role-play."

"Oh!" Amy said, her eyebrows lifting.

"And I haven't always dyed my hair with such frequency," Kate added, fluffing her bright blue curls. "Let's see how it looks."

Amy twisted her hair into knot on top of her head and settled the wig over it. The edge of the straight bangs just brushed her eyebrows; the edge of the bob tickled her jawline. The wig felt oddly health, although Amy suspected that was largely a psychological weight rather than a real one. She knew what came after the cosmological alterations and was not looking forward to it.

"You make an attractive blonde," Kate said, her head tilted to one side. "A bit severe, but we can probably put that down to the cut of the wig. Have you ever thought about dyeing your hair?"

"Not really," Amy replied, sliding the wig off again.

"Grey likes blondes."

Amy's eyebrows quirked upward again. "Good for Grey," she said." "Seeing as I'm not trying to sleep with Grey, I don't think dyeing my hair blonde is going to make a bit of difference, do you?"

Kate's cheeks turned pink. "I didn't mean to imply—"

"I know what you meant," Amy said. "It's fine. In any case, if that was my interest, it wouldn't matter what color my hair was." She fingered a strand of hair, one corner of her mouth curling up. "But what I look like, in general, isn't high on my list of priorities. I spend too much time digging around in dirty ships to be bothered."

"Would you ever be bothered?" Kate asked curiously. "I mean, would there ever be anyone you'd make an effort for?"

Shrugging, Amy said, "Either they like you or they don't, Kate. And if you're wasting time worrying, then there's other, more important things that you're not focusing on." She hesitated, and then added, "And when you start caring about other people it just opens up a weak spot in your defenses. Keep that in mind."

Kate was silent for a moment, studying Amy. Abruptly she said, "If you really want to alter the way you look, you'll want to do something with your face, you know. Especially as you never wear paints usually." Seeing Amy's expression, she hastened to add, "Not that there's anything wrong with that, I was just thinking that since you don't, usually, you know, it would mean that wearing paints would mean your face would look really different..." She trailed off, her mouth twisting unhappily. "Have I upset you?"

Amy ran her hand through her hair. "No. You haven't. Old memories."

Tentatively, Kate said, "Do you—would you like me to show you how to...to apply the paints?"

Amy let out a burst of laughter. "Kate, just because I don't wear them doesn't mean I don't know how." She thought of all the years spent regularly disappearing into disguise and then shook off the memories. "Could I possibly borrow your kits, though? I haven't got anything with me." Which was an outright lie, but Kate didn't need to know that, not if she was cheered by the thought of helping.

"Sure thing," Kate said, stretching sideways and grabbing a slim case from beside her bed. "Take whatever you need. Take it with you, if you need to."

"Thanks." Amy stood up, wig in one hand and case in the other, and headed for the door.

"Amy—"

She turned. Kate bit the inside of her lip, clearly uncertain as to whether she should continue or not. At last she said,

"Grey wouldn't say when I asked, but it's obvious that whatever it is you're going to do, you're leaving us and we're going to get Molly. Are you—" She hesitated. "Are we going to see you again?"

There was an uncomfortable silence as Amy mulled over her answer. "I don't know," she said at last. "It depends on how things go after I get caught. And no," she added, forestalling the question on Kate's lips, "I'm not going to elaborate, but you don't need to worry about me."

Kate didn't look very happy, but all she said was, "If you need eye alterations, you'll have to ask Ramina. I don't know how to do that."

Amy nodded. "Thanks again for these," she said, lifting the wig and case slightly. "See you later."

The comm panel on the bulkhead buzzed. Pushing a final pin into her hair, Amy stabbed the button. "Yes?"

"We've just arrived at Peleteth," Kate said. "They're waiting for you."

"I'll be up in a minute. Thanks."

She released the button and returned to the mirror. Settling the wig over her pinned hair, she adjusted it until it hung straight and then ran a hand over her chest and stomach, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her uniform. It was an old uniform—it had been folded at the bottom of her bag for years—but it was in perfect condition and the Commission hadn't changed its uniform policies in decades. There weren't enough credits floating around to rekit every officer, much less every soldier.

She turned her face towards the light and leaned closer to the mirror. Ramina had tweaked her eyes to temporarily change their color, and the steely blue matched the color of her uniform. For a moment Amy stood and stared at her reflection, that the blue-eyed blond wearing a captain's stars, and then shook her head. She picked up her bag and headed out. She had work to do.