<em>This is it,</em>Jenna thought,<em>I’m really not in my father’s shadow anymore.  </em><br/>Last time she’d boarded a ship, it was Dawnstar’s Lady, the border cutter captained by her father, commissioned for him by the king.  She’d dressed to please him, in an asexual black and red uniform.<br/><em>Not today.  If I can’t be myself on my own ship, then were can I be?</em><br/>Jenna was a tall girl, a full six feet plus three inch stiletto heals.  Her snug clothing was still recognizably captain’s garb, but feminized and somewhat gothic: black leather pants and vest with slashes of red and a matching undershirt.  The silvery mithral of her chain shirt peaked out where the jacket was open in front.  Long, raven black  hair was held up and back by a black scarf.  An ebony and gold holy medallion of Valkur, a benevolent god who protected ship’s at sea, and patron of the like hearted, was sewn into the scar at her forehead.  The layers of clothing could not conceal her curves.<br/>A cutlass sheathed at her round hips, on the right side for a left handed draw.  A dagger tucked into her right boot, a wand into her left.  She had long, lacquered nails.<br/><em>Do I realy want to be myself that badly?  I know what I am…<br/>   Yes.  I’m not afraid of who I am.  The chance of becoming something horrible died the day I slashed out my mother’s throat…  </em><br/>Hefting her backpack, Jenna headed up the pier to the ship she’d observed from a distance and looked around, lip corner’s twitching into a smile at the eclectic crew.  A mermaid and a sexy wolf girl sunned themselves on the deck.  She called a good morning ot the mermaid in the common tongue of the sea—Aquan—then in common, “How’s the sun, girls?”<br/>Then there was the guys.  Oh, my, wasn’t the boson easy on the eyes?<br/><br/>