“We may not be experts on clothing, but I doubt anyone who works here knows which armor mods to use against an opponent who prefers close range plasma attacks. We’re pilots—best to keep our priorities straight, right?” Beth laughed slightly. “Anyway, there’s a changing room right over there. If it fits alright, we can get someone here to make any adjustments and then you’ll be all set for the ball. Hopefully no one will be too jealous of me for being there with you.” The older woman stood close to her companion and smiled at her, brushing the fingers of one hand affectionately against Mira’s arm. Clearly, she was no longer very nervous.