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to ask the question, Why isn’t she dressed like the others? Where is her uniform?
    Niad had a request in for the Citadel to furnish her with another suit in suitable colours.
    Demsiac came to her with a smile. “I think I have an answer to your uniform problem. Frankly, you are just harder on them than we are.”
    She set aside the datasheet with the information on the variety of talents at the base.
    Homik was sitting and reading near her on the couch. “What did you find?”
    “A textile factory that specialises in silk and armour plate has agreed to make you a suit. The catch is that they only have an opening this afternoon. You need to get there for a measurement and basic fitting.”
    Homik smiled. “I can take her.”
    Niad snorted. Since the first episode with the gas line, Homik had been downright pleasant. Apparently, she took Niad’s actions into account and formed a new opinion.
    Tauron cleared his throat from behind Demsiac. “I will take her. They are the same guys that make my suits.”
    Tauron’s suits had the same reinforced armour that she was used to. It made sense that her getting dirty would need the same padding as his suits.
    Demsiac nodded. “He already has a relationship with them. They were nervous about making a battle suit for a woman, but it is what she needs.”
    Homik grimaced.
    Niad got to her feet. “Let’s go.”
    Tauron nodded and smiled. “It’s a short flight. If they are waiting, we had better get going.” He got to his feet and beckoned to her.
    She walked over, wearing one of the thin, standard suits. She hadn’t realised how flimsy it was until she was crawling on her belly under powerlines. That had been her third day, and it had swiftly proven that her Citadel suit was the better construction for her needs.
    “Let me just grab my Citadel suit out of the refresher.”
    Tauron nodded. “I will get the riot runner warmed up.”
    She smiled. “Be right out.”
    She trotted down the hall to her room and got her suit. She folded it carefully into a small bundle, put it in a pouch and slung the strap over her shoulder. She was ready for anything, including spending her savings on the new suit.
    Tauron was already on the runner, and he leaned aside to let her slide into the circle of his arms.
    He took to the skies and sped off to the very expensive homes and buildings at the north end of the city. The high-family dwellings spread out over acres and were testaments to engineering and wealth.
    She leaned back toward Tauron and asked, “Where are we going, exactly?”
    He pointed to the left. “Down there. Look, they are already waiting.”
    A wide deck that hosted a huge pergola was buzzing with folks who were preparing for their arrival. It was an adjunct of one of the smaller buildings but still larger than the garage and the apartments.
    They settled the runner on the lawn, and Tauron dismounted first before extending his hand to her and helping her off. The high-family men were all very genteel when they were dealing with women of equal caste. Apparently, her work now qualified her even if her bloodline didn’t.
    She walked toward the deck, and the servants quickly finished, leaving the family members who would be assisting her on the deck. Her steps slowed as she approached them. She knew those faces even if they didn’t know hers. She was in the den of the Skarrows.
    The elder male on the deck smiled and welcomed them. “Guardian Tauron, good to see you again. You must be Guardian Wyfirth.”
    She nodded. For the first time in her life, she was glad that Wyfirth was such a common last name.
    “I am Mrvon Skarrow and this is my grandson, Membon.”
    She smiled politely. “Pleased to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to take me on. My work is a little different than that of most Guardians.”
    “So your commander explained. We will be happy to help.” Mrvon smiled brightly.
    “I have my Citadel suit if that will give you an idea of what I need. It fits most of my