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“What does the other button do? Send me into orbit?”

“Don’t be churlish. Try it and see.”

Kara noticed he backed off a little as she pressed the button on her right boot. She braced herself.

With a smooth click, three metal claws slid from the toe. They were curved and thick, identical to the clawed phalanges Vraxians had and just as lethal. Kara grinned.

“Now this is more like it!”

She span in a perfect roundhouse and swept her foot against a chest of drawers. Deep gouges appeared across the front, scarring the wood to a depth of several centimeters though she’d barely touched it. Kara whooped.

“Daa’sten, you’re a miracle worker.”

“You can only use them in instances where your opponents would be expected to use them,” the dressmaker cautioned. “Otherwise you risk being disqualified. But at least you’ll be able to hold your own.”

Kara kicked the blades shut.

“What else have you brought me?”

She had to admit, the new clothes thing was a buzz. Maybe she was secretly a bit of a Barbie herself.

Daa’sten showed her the costume she’d be competing in – an all-in-one jumpsuit engineered to protect her from heat, cold, and minor impacts, all whilst remaining light and breathable. It was blue and gold, a play on the imperial colors, with ‘13’ printed on the back.

He’d inserted a hidden bra-panel just for her. A separate utility belt completed the look, designed to carry whatever she might need to complete the challenge.

“How on earth did you make all this stuff so quickly?” she marveled.

“I didn’t sit up sewing all night, if that’s what you mean. I fed your measurements and my designs into a matter constructor and created it in seconds. That makes it sound easy but believe me, it is an art.”

Kara rubbed the material of the jumpsuit.

“I don’t doubt it,” she said. “You know, lots of people on Earth think thirteen is an unlucky number.”

“We don’t believe in bad luck here on Vraxos. Only fate. Perhaps thirteen will prove fateful for you.”

“Perhaps. What’s in the posh box?”

She pointed at the package filled with rustling paper. Daa’sten smiled.

“Take a look.”

It was a dress. Though to call it just a ‘dress’ was an understatement. Kara shook it out and gasped.

It was a glorious concoction of vivid turquoise, made from a material that resembled silk but was far, far finer. It slid through her fingers with the merest whisper of sound.

And through some trick of the light, or perhaps it was alien technology built into the fabric, the whole garment looked like it was moving. Ripples undulated across the surface, throwing off sparkles of light.

“I took my inspiration from your planet,” explained Daa’sten. “Earth is seventy percent water so I thought you should wear a dress that reflected that. What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” Kara said honestly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Thank the gods. Put it on then.”

He politely turned away as she shrugged off her clothes and wiggled into the dress.

It fell to her waist in a smooth line, tastefully skimming her chest with just a hint of cleavage, before flowing to the floor in a froth of aqua blue shot through with silver.

Her back was left bare, the only adornment a slender chain of white crystals which crossed her shoulder blades and held the two sides of the dress together. It was a miracle of engineering and it fitted her perfectly.