Shopping, Anjali's eyes shone with excitement at the prospect even as she was approaching the sprawling bazaar, a complex warren of brick and mortar stores cheek by jowl with tents, and even some fine establishments being run out of converted shipping containers on wheels. She wanted girlystuff. Stuff which Dwayne's replicator had no specs for, which made sense, after all it was unlikely that he would need bras, or panties, or cute pajamas. Although, during her training, Anjali had learned to entertain the certain gentlemen who enjoyed dressing in women's garments, their manhoods tucked away with special garments to approximate more the look of a woman's pudenda. She wanted some make up, good grief, some lip balm and face creams, and some lipstick and eyeliner. Some things for her hair too, just because she was crew didn't mean she had to look like mini-me of Dwayne. She had the feeling he might like her looking a little more feminine. As she browsed the merchandize, she pondered if she would sleep in his bunk again during the next sleep cycle. She really wanted to, but would he be as welcoming again, after all what would be her excuse to seek his proximity this time? A sudden memory of the strategically placed pillow made her blush, hear heart beat just a little faster. What would it be like to couple with a person one actually wanted to do it with?<br/><br/>From the corner of her eyes, she spied a tent store, ladies underwear ….ah, her ancient heart went pitter patter and she made a straight line for it. The salesman, a thin man with slightly portruding eyes (whom she suspected a connoisseur of these fine garments himself) welcomed her.<br/><br/>“Come in, come in…” he ushered with an expansive sweep of his thin, and knobby hands, “what is the pretty lady looking for?”<br/><br/>Anjali stepped in and saw that the unassuming tent had nonetheless a good selection of ladies unmentionables in many styles and sizes.<br/><br/>“Some bra and panty sets, and some everyday wear cotton, but cute, please!”<br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">"Crewman Maria, I can scan the schematics of these garments and load them into the replicator, it will be cheaper to replicate,"</span>buzzed her earpiece. She tapped the AI twice, which they had decided, would mean affirmative.<br/><br/>The clerk pulled out two satin and lace sets, and he looked very eagerly at her chest “34 C, is my guess, no 34 D, I can measure,” he said hopefully, but she demurred.<br/><br/>“34D, my good man. How much for these two?”<br/><br/>“Thirty-five pips each,” he replied without hesitation.<br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">“Crewman Maria, that is entirely too much. The stated price does not match up with my data base. You are advised to negotiate.”</span><br/><br/>Anjali rested her elbows on the counter, staring at the display behind the shopkeeper. Her chest was compressed between her arms and her braless breasts under the tank top were threatening to spill over. The shopkeeper was<br/><br/>powerless to stare away and stammered “of course, for a beauty of your magnitude I am happy to reduce to thirty pips each.”<br/><br/>Ah! A lightbulb went off in Anjali’s head and she looked at him through her designer eyes and purred, “my dear man, you are so kind, do you feel these colors would suit me?” and she brushed a light hand over her cleavage.  The man’s adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and forced himself to meet her eyes. “Thirty pips each and I have a gift! Your pulchritude must be worshipped with a special set I have kept for a special lady. Please accept this humble gift from your loyal servant.” He hurried to the back and opened a trunk and came back with a stunning peach colored lace set.<br/><br/>“Oh no! That is much too generous” said Anjali sincerely, but he was already wrapping up her items, and threw in a three pack of cotton panties, placing it all in a bag with his logo and shop name on it.<br/><br/>“You honor me, please I insist.”<br/><br/>Anjali smiled a dazzling smile at him. “Whom do I have the honor to thank for such generosity?” she inquired formally.<br/><br/>“Gregorio Theophilis” he replied, his hand on his chest bowing to her.  “Maria Alvarez,” she replied with a regal incline of her head. “I shall remember you and return again,” she promised with a kind smile just this side of seductive.<br/><br/>The scene in a store selling beauty products was much the same, they insisted on a free make over and expertly did her make-up. Her skin having been designed to be flawless didn't need much but they did her eyes and lips, making her that much more desirable. Anjali's natural sweet disposition, coupled with her new awareness of how to bargain, left her with about twice the amount of goods than she had expected to purchase and at an excellent price no less. The odd contrast between her rough Spacer clothes and her engineered, and now enhanced physical beauty got her no end of looks as she walked through the bazaar. Samples were thrust at her, invitations to stores made. One jeweler pleaded with her to come in, and she did almost followed by her small entourage of mostly boys and young men, and some old men. It was quite comical, she thought. Had they such a lack of women on this planet?<br/><br/>"You are not wearing jewelry," remarked the jeweler, a swarthy looking man identified as Mahamoud Al-Sheikha by the prominent shop license at the register, "to be specific... you're not wearing my jewelry." He said it was though it was a bafflement and borderline insult.<br/><br/>Time to see what I can do, thought Anjali. She looked at him coquettishly and smiled "<i>Asalaam Aleihkum, Mahamoud Al-Sheikha</i>, I am Maria Alvarez" she said, watching his eyes brighten at the Arabic greeting, a language thousands of years old. "Khayef Halak" she continued in Arabic " and what can you show me?" but he raised his hands and said, "<i>Sadiqa</i>, the common language please. The language of the ancestors is not known to me with such skill, as it is clearly known to you." He smiled and clapped his hands and ordered a young woman to bring coffee and cakes.<br/><br/>"My Dear Al-Sheikha," said Anjali back in the common tongue, "please, I am a humble Spacer and have not the coin, nor occasion for extravagant jewelry." She daintily sipped the potent coffee offered, and nibbled at the pretty little, rose scented cake. "Not fabricated" said the heavy set man pointing at the cakes, "my granddaughters make these the traditional way. "Now..." he rubbed his hands "Spacer or not, you should at least wear earrings." He bent underneath his counter and returned with a tray filled with hoops in various sizes, colors, and thicknesses. His pudgy fingers rustled about and he pulled out two faceted gold hoops of medium size. "Platinum coated with 22k gold. Yes, not the priciest of metals, but still a nice old-fashioned charm," he said. Anjali bending forward to the mirror he had placed in front of her, inserted first one then the second of the hoops. She knew his eyes were glued to her and she just focused on her earrings.<br/><br/>"<i>Habibi</i>" she said endearingly, knowing that he would mostly hear this term from his wife, or mistress, "how much would you charge a lowly Spacer for these pretty earrings?" She looked at him, slowly raising her lashes, revealing her unusual eyes.<br/><br/>"I uh... I," he stammered "for you, queen of my heart, one hundred twenty pips, normally one hundred seventy five, but knowing that my humble hoops grace your ears, I am content with that." He blushed as she smiled beatifically at<br/>That is a good deal, chirped Bianca in her ear.<br/><br/>Anjali counted out her pips and placed them in his hands, making sure there was plenty of contact between her small hands and his large, pudgy ones. "<i>ant latif Mahamoud Al-Sheikha, shukran</i>," she said genuinely pleased and looking in the mirror again when he came around, "Madam," said "allow me the pleasure of knowing that this necklace graces your neck, it is a gift from an admirer." Anjali allowed him to move her hair to the side and stood still as he placed the simple but tasteful necklace around her neck and fasten it. She turned around and he grasped her hands.<br/><br/>"I await your return, you will shop again in my humble establishment, yes?"<br/><br/>Anjali, once again inclined her head regally and promised, that she would when she came back to the planet.<br/><br/>"I will come again, Mahamoud Al-Sheikha, and I will always remember your kindness whenever I look at my jewelry," she said sincerely, "tell your granddaughters that the cake was a wonderful treat."<br/><br/>Having completed her shopping and storing her purchases in a safetee-loc storage cubicle, Anjali stopped outside a bar and then went into the building. X-Zoomers it was called. It was full of people of many types. Spacers like now her and Dwayne, miners, officials on break presumably, and other kinds. A live band played music on a variety of instruments. In short, it was the most marvelous place she had ever seen. Of course, it was the first bar she had ever been to, but she was sure it was the best place in the city, how could it not be?<br/><br/>"such a wonderful place, this X-Zoomers" she said to Bianca when a male voice behind her said "Well, yes, it is...may I buy you a drink? You look thirsty."<br/><br/>Anjali was beautiful, she was smart, and had become an expert haggler, but that is where it ended. At the end of the day, she was still a sheltered product. A human product, yes, but a product, and as such she didn't understand bar talk, or pick up lines for that matter. Later on she would cringe at her obvious naïveté. Bianca was no help either.<br/><br/>"Oh, yes, that would be most kind. I am indeed terribly thirsty."<br/><br/>The man, who now sat next to her at the small table looked decently groomed and wore a nice uniform of sorts. To the next table sat some miner drinking copious amounts of some vile smelling brown liquid.<br/><br/>Rather friendly people here, she thought, and accepted the tall drink when it came.<br/><br/>“Oh, it’s delicious” she said and drank the tall, fruity drink rather quickly. The uniformed man who had bought her the drink laughed, but not unkindly. A second drink appeared before her and another two young men joined their table. Names were exchanged and small talk made, the men quickly identifying themselves as pilots. Anjali went to the restroom after the second drink. The restroom was marred with graffiti and stains but she needed to pee desperately. She had taken one bra with her in a bag and after using the facilities put it on. The lace edging peeked over the tank top, it looked cute and she posed in front of the mirror smiling. She felt very relaxed and happy and the people here were so nice. She left and walked past the bored looking band when they started to play a sultry, rhythmic fusion piece. She danced a few steps sand was about to return to the table when one of her new friends who had watched her said “will you dance with me?” Anjali giggled (it should be made clear that she had no idea that she was tipsy) and replied. “I don’t dance with men but I know how to dance,” and she bent to take off her boots and jacket, keeping those with the musicians.<br/><br/>From a nearby table she liberated a fringed tablecloth and folded it into a triangle. Then she knotted it around her hips and circumlocuted the raised dance floor swaying her hips and snapping her finger in a seductive yet imperious way. She certainly had the attention of every man and women in the vicinity. Anjali grabbed a hat and passed it around “donations for the musicians.” The musicians, thrilled for the money and attention redoubled their efforts and began playing in earnest. And Anjali began to dance. A fusion of belly dance and Indian Bharatnatyam she flashed her eyes, performed complex sequences of gestures and rolled her hips, waist, breasts and ass in a way which to the inebriated men was like pure pheromones. Her supple skin looked so soft and tawny, her hips and ass round and generous, her bosom heaving from the effort as she moved in tune to the music which alternately was sultry like a warm summer night, or fast and energetic like a tempest. Anjali though was so lost to the music, she didn’t realize the effect she had on her audience until a big burly miner grabbed a slender ankle and running his hands up her thighs vowed to have him some of that ass.<br/><br/>Anjali screamed and it all went to hell from there.