Volume 7: One Small Step for Women

[tirepanted3]

Hello, everyone. Welcome to the seventh and final volume of the Spacesuit saga. This may not be my final USB story, but it will quite likely be my final big USB "novel." Writing these long stories can be rewarding, but also exhausting, not to mention time-consuming. (As evidenced by my difficulty in posting these chapters in a timely manner.) Furthermore, as much as I adore writing these characters and developing their universe, I don't want their stories to run on too long and risk growing stale. I've been writing this saga for several years now, and it's been great fun. Hopefully this volume brings the story to a satisfying and entertaining conclusion.




It was a dark night, perhaps a bit darker than usual. A few stars dotted an otherwise cloudy sky.

The museum had closed hours ago - but for some employees, the work was just beginning.

Francie leaned back in her chair as she watched the small television on her desk. Her security booth, stationed at the main entrance to the museum parking lot, was small, but it allowed for some accommodations.

"Lucy, I'm ho-ome!"

Francie chuckled. It was another quiet night for the museum security guard, and she was ready to spend the next few hours catching up on some classic TV sitcoms.

"How's it going?"

Francie looked up. Standing outside the booth window was Clara, her friend and coworker. Like Francie, she wore a standard-issue security uniform of grey button-down shirt, black pants, and black leather shoes. The light-skinned Francie had her red hair tied back into a close bun, while the dark-skinned Clara had fashioned her own black hair into a ponytail.

Francie smiled. "Hey, Clara. Want to join me in a TV marathon?"

"Love to, but I gotta stay on patrol," Clara replied. "Got another few hours on my shift; just stopped by to see how you're doing."

"I'm doing just fine," Francie assured her. "Not much going on tonight... or any night, for that matter."

The TV show she was watching changed to a commercial break. Immediately, the screen showed a picture of a female security guard.

"Hey, look, Clara - it's a commercial about us," Francie chuckled.

The picture changed to show a picture of a nurse. Then a waitress, a maid, a flight attendant, a policewoman.

A female voiceover spoke over these images: "Women. We wear all sorts of uniforms."

"What is this ad for?" Clara inquired.

The voiceover turned serious. "But lately, our right to wear these uniforms - sometimes, to wear clothes at all - has become imperiled. Threatened by a rise in a specific crime that threatens women everywhere.

The commercial showed a graph. "In the past ten years, muggings in our city have nearly tripled. And the main motivation of the culprits is not money - it is the uniforms that so many of the women in our city should feel proud to wear.

The commercial showed black-and-white photos of the city's mayor and his advisors. "The rise in uniform stealing has become one of the most serious threats facing women today - but the men who run our city do nothing about it. They turn a blind eye to the peril facing women here - and in fact, everywhere - and tell us that the problem is fake or exaggerated.

The picture shifted to a middle-aged blonde woman, who spoke to the camera. "As your mayor, I won't turn a blind eye. I'll stand up to the threat of uniform stealing, imposing harsh penalties on those who engage in it. I'll make the city safer for women everywhere."

The woman smiled at the camera. "Every woman deserves the right to wear her uniform in peace. I'm Delilah Hargrove, and I approve this message."

Francie stifled a laugh. "Oh yeah... I heard about this woman. Running her mayoral campaign on crime. And one specific type of crime, at that."

"You gonna vote for her?" Clara asked.

Francie shook her head. "Haven't voted for years. I don't trust any of these politicians... All they do is lie. And now this woman is using scare tactics to get people to vote for her."

"I don't know if it's just scare tactics," Clara noted. "Uniform stealing is... becoming more of a thing, isn't it? I'm surprised it's taken so long for politicians to notice."

"Give me a break," Francie sighed. "Don't tell me you buy into this trash, Clara... Next thing you'll tell me you think zombies and vampires are real?"

"I've just... heard stories," Clara replied. "My cousin's friend works as a nurse in midtown... She got attacked by another woman a few months ago... Woke up to find herself tied up and her uniform gone."

"She sounds like a wimp," Francie scoffed.

"Hey, don't be so smug," Clara retorted. "If it happens to someone else, it could happen to you."

Francie chuckled. "Okay, sure. If it happens to me, I'll definitely vote for that woman for mayor," she said. "In the meantime, I'll be focused on the real world and real issues... Like whether this TV of mine can get better reception."

Clara rolled her eyes, but smiled. "I gotta get back on patrol."

"Come by again later... I've got snacks!" Francie called to her departing friend.

Then it was quiet again, with the exception of the dialogue of a classic TV sitcom and the canned laughter it generated.

The next half-hour passed fairly smoothly. Francie had just opened a new bag of potato chips when she saw a pair of headlights.

An old white van pulled up to the museum entrance. The driver-side window rolled down.

"Hi!" The driver was light-skinned and dark-haired, dressed in a khaki green delivery uniform and baseball cap. Her identically-dressed partner, sitting beside her, had fair skin and honey-brown hair. "We've got a delivery for the science museum."

Francie was confused. "A... delivery? At this hour? I didn't hear anything about this."

"Oh, I'm sure our boss called your boss," the woman replied. "You know how it is... They've got us working all hours of the night!"

"I... don't think we accept deliveries at this time of night," Francie replied. "Come back in the morning."

The driver looked upset. "Tomorrow? But... we just drove two hours to get here. And with a broken radio, no less!" She leaned out the window and whispered, "Confidentially, my partner isn't the best conversationalist."

"I heard that," her coworker muttered.

"Look, we've got a signed form." The driver opened the door and stepped out of the van, holding out a clipboard. "Our boss will kill us if we don't get this stuff offloaded and get back before morning for our next delivery. We've got a packed schedule."

Francie sighed. She opened the booth window and held out her hand. "Let me see the form."

She took the clipboard and looked at it closely. The writing was somewhat scribbly and erratic. There was a message on the form, written in semi-legible cursive.

"What does this say?" Francie squinted as she looked at the words. "Wait, I think I can read it... It says... 'Please... steal... my... uniform'?"

"Well, if you insist!"

The driver hit the side of Francie's neck with a sudden judo chop. Francie gasped, and for a moment looked paralyzed. The, with a soft moan, she slumped forward over her desk.

"It's a weird request," the driver noted. "But I'm happy to oblige."

Her friend groaned from within the van. "Polina, do you have to make a comedy routine out of everything?"

Polina glanced back at her partner and grinned. 'Lighten up, Oksana. It's been a while since you and I went out on one of these undercover assignments."

"Not long enough," Oksana replied. "Now hurry up and get dressed."

"Roger that." Polina climbed through the booth window, then pulled the unconscious Francie below the desk, out of sight.

Oksana checked her watch. They were running a few minutes late, but would have to contend with that. Hopefully they still had ample time before the rotation of the guard.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. The two deliverywomen lay in the back of the van, still unconscious. One of them, a tan-skinned brunette, wore a purple demicup bra and turquoise hipsters, while the other, a fair-skinned cherry-blonde, was reduced to a mauve triangle bra and peach Brazilian panties. Both had been tied and gagged with brown packing tape, generously provided from their van.

Well, perhaps not so generously - it was only a half-hour earlier that Oksana and Polina had intercepted the van on a quite side street and helped themselves to the women's uniforms. Oksana appreciated how the unconscious deliverywomen had the sense to stay quiet for the duration of the trip - it would have been nice if Polina, ever the chatterbox, would have followed their example.

Polina popped up to the booth window, now fully garbed in security uniform. "How do I look?" she asked, striking an action-movie pose.

"I suppose you look fine," Oksana replied, barely giving Polina a glance.

"Incorrect! I look a-ma-zing!" Polina sang. "Any uniform I steal automatically looks better when I'm wearing it."

"Good for you," Oksana said dryly. "Now dial back the comedy and take your position. Make sure no one gets past the booth while I'm inside. Can't risk any trouble."

"You can count on me." Polina watched as Oksana drove past the gate.

Then she sat down in the chair and glanced at the TV. "Wow... I Love Lucy! Great show."

She glanced down at the real Francine, who lay now beneath the desk - zip-tied and tape-gagged and dressed merely in cyan sports bra and matching boyshorts. "Hope you don't mind if I finish your potato chips, dear."

Oksana steered the van into a corner of the lot, then stepped out and headed for the museum. She kept to the shadows - even in the dark of night, there was risk of being caught on camera.

Locating a blind spot in an alley between the cameras, Oksana grew quiet, holding her breath. She listened - footsteps. Most likely a woman's.

Clara was making her rounds, circling the perimeter of the museum grounds for the third time in the past hour. The dim lights around the museum were just bright enough to help her see where she was going - even if they did not illuminate every corner or alley on the premises.

She was getting restless, as was often the case at this time of night. Maybe I'll swing by and chat with Francie again.

She stepped past the alley in the direction of the front gate and guard booth - but only made it a few scant paces.

Clara gasped suddenly as she was grabbed from behind, a viselike arm encircling her neck. A hand slid over her mouth, cutting off whatever sounds she could afford to make.

Clara managed a few muffled sounds of protest as she tried breaking free from her assailant. But Oksana held firm and fast as she dragged the squirming security guard deeper into the dark alley.

After about twenty seconds of futile struggling, Clara's movements slowed considerably. Her arms went limp, her legs rubbery. With a flutter of eyelashes and a soft sigh of defeat, she was out cold.

Oksana lay the unconscious guard on the ground and began stripping her, just as Polina's voice buzzed in her earpiece.

"You're missing some great TV, Oksi," she said.

"Don't waste my time with idle chatter," Oksana replied. "And keep alert to anything suspicious."

"Sure, sure... You know, I was just thinking - you and I are a lot like Lucy and Ethel! Two ladies who go on wacky adventures, wear lots of disguises... Our life is kind of like an old sitcom. In fact..."

Oksana shut off the earpiece before she had to listen to anything further.

Minutes after, she was all dressed up in security uniform. Her unwilling donor, dressed in an orange push-up bra and white cotton panties, was bound and gagged with leftover packing tape and hidden behind some trash cans.

Oksana made her way to the museum's rear entrance. She swiped the keycard stolen from the guard's belt and stepped inside.

The corridors, as expected, were empty, although she could hear noises coming from below. Oksana switched her earpiece back on.

"...favorite episode is probably the one with the chocolates, but I..."

"Polina," Oksana said sternly. "Shut up and focus. I'm in the building now. Where's the basement entrance?"

Polina consulted the map on her monitor. "Looks like it's near the east wing... Right next to the atomic energy exhibit."

"Perfect." Oksana headed east.

"It's strange," Polina mused. "I used to love going to museums as a girl. Haven't had much time since I became a spy. I still want to visit the history museum here... as a regular visitor, without mugging employees for their--"

Oksana shut off the earpiece again. She headed down the stairs.

The basement of the science museum featured a prominent research laboratory and a lot of storage units. The large double doors to the facility were marked "Authorized Employees Only."

Oksana peeked through the door's window and saw lab scientists and technicians - hard at work, despite the late hour. They would probably be startled by the sight of a security guard entering their corner of the museum. They would ask questions that she would have no time or interest answering.

Oksana furrowed her brow in thought. Her concentration was broken by a voice behind her.

"Excuse me?"

The young scientist was tall and slim, with light skin and sandy-brown hair in a bun. She wore a white lab coat over a green turtleneck and black pencil skirt, as well as eyeglasses and brown penny loafers.

"Is there a problem, officer?" the scientist asked.

Oksana approached her. "There is," she admitted. "But it's easily solved by your clothes."

"My... clothes?" The young woman looked confused. "I don't underst-- uurk!"

A quick neck chop ended the conversation. Oksana dragged the unconscious young woman into a handy closet.

She stepped out minutes later, now wearing the scientist's clothes and lab coat. She slipped the glasses over her eyes to further obscure her identity.

The real scientist sat in the corner of the closet, between stacks of paper and glass beakers, wearing a dark blue comfort bra and slate-grey hiphuggers. She had been tied up with white baling twine and gagged with green tape, and was still sleeping soundly as Oksana locked the door.

No one paid the disguised Russian agent much attention as she stepped through the laboratory, nor as she made her way to the file cabinets in the rear of the facility. She was undisturbed as she rifled through the contents of one of the dustier cabinets.

Oksana located the file she needed and discreetly snapped photos with her wristwatch-camera. Once finished, she left the files exactly as she'd found them.

Polina was still lounging in the guard's booth, scarfing potato chips and watching the television. She jumped slightly as she heard a knock on the glass.

"I got what we need," Oksana beckoned to her. "Let's get out of here."

"Can we stay five more minutes?" Polina asked. "This is a really good episode..."

A steely glare from Oksana told Polina that no, they could not stay another five minutes.

"Okay, okay." Polina hopped out of her chair and headed for the door. "Hey, nice glasses, Oksi. I didn't know you needed those."

Oksana took off the glasses and tossed them aside. "I don't. And don't call me Oksi."

They returned to their van and drove off.

Polina glanced at the rear of the van, where the two unfortunate deliverywomen still slumbered. "So what do we do with them?"

"We'll leave them and their vehicle on a quiet side road. Someone will find them tomorrow."

Polina nodded. "They have great underwear, don't they? Real color and imagination... Sonja was right about American women."

Oksana glared at her. "I told you never to mention her name again."

Polina nodded. "Right... sorry."

"To hell with that woman," Oksana groused. "She'll get the punishment she deserves someday."

********************

"I don't deserve this punishment," Sonja commented.

"Keep your voice down, please," Chandra whispered. "What punishment is that?"

Sonja pointed at her feet. "These high heels are absolute torture," she groaned. "I can barely walk."

"You're walking fine," Chandra assured her. "Just don't draw attention to us by making a scene."

The two women stepped lightly - or in Sonja's case, not so lightly - down the office corridor. At the late hour, the government facility was quieter than usual, but dozens of employees were still working through the night.

Chandra and Sonja were passing themselves off as two such employees. Both were dressed in conservative attire of green button-down blouse, black pencil skirt, and tan tights. They also wore the black heels that all secretaries of the facility seemed prone to wearing - much to Sonja's chagrin.

"My calves are going to ache in the morning," Sonja groaned.

"Just keep cool," Chandra told her. "As long as no one finds the real secretaries, we'll be out of here in twenty minutes. Just follow my lead."

The office environment they now entered was a honeycomb of cubicles, each equipped with its own desk and computer. Other employees, attired similarly to Chandra and Sonja, sat at their desks working away.

"Why does everyone here wear the same colors?" Sonja asked.

Chandra shrugged. "Bureaucracy in action, I suppose."

She found an empty cubicle and took a seat at the computer. "Keep an eye out while I hack into the system."

Sonja folded her arms and leaned against the cubicle. "You know, I used to work in this environment, before the SVR made me a field officer."

"Do you miss that life?" Chandra asked, typing away.

Sonja chuckled. "Working a desk job all day? No, I can't say that I do... Not quite as fun as mugging women for their clothes on a daily basis."

"I'll bet," Chandra smirked. "Ah, here we go... I'm in their system."

She clicked through the files until she found what she was looking for. "Here's Ms. Weldon-Grant's prison file... I'll just update the info to say she's been cleared for release... tomorrow at noon."

"Amazing," Sonja grinned. "The computer genius strikes again."

Chandra chuckled. "I'd feel like more of a genius if I'd thought of this months ago," she commented. "We've been trying to bust her out of prison for ages... And ever since Caldwell gave us the info on her location, all it took was a little creative thinking."

She closed the file and cleared her history. "Okay, let's get out of here."

The two women headed back down the hall and toward the building's exit.

Soon after, they reached the tall clump of bushes where they had stashed their motorbikes - as well as a pair of struggling secretaries who'd had the misfortune of taking a smoking break just at the moment that the two infiltrators had need of disguises.

One of the secretaries, with long dark hair and light skin, was left in a green padded bra and black tap pants. The other, a tan-skinned woman with short curly chestnut-brown hair, wore a pink balconette bra and orange French-cut panties. Chandra and Sonja had neutralized them earlier that night, using white ropes and black tape to keep them out of commission.

Sonja winced as she pulled off the heels, changing to a pair of hiking boots. "I think we did you girls a favor tonight," she told the frightened secretaries. "Saved you the indignity of uncomfortable footwear."

"Don't tease them," Chandra commented as she put on her bike helmet. "It will probably still be a few hours before anyone finds them. Let them have their peace."

Sonja looked surprised. "Wow... you almost sound sympathetic."

Chandra rolled her eyes as she started her bike. "What can I say... It's been a weird year."

********************

The morning sun peeked through Bridget's window, beckoning her to enjoy the new day.

Bridget yawned and stretched, feeling somewhat more refreshed than usual. After all, it had been her first full night's sleep in a while.

After brewing her morning coffee, she sat down at her computer and opened her website. Online engagement had been slow, but it was growing.

"This Internet certainly is competitive," she murmured.

It had been a few months since Bridget had been unceremoniously fired from her job as a newspaper journalist. In the time since, she had tried to rebuild. Finding a job at another news outlet was too risky - they would ask questions, and probably constant her old boss. For the moment, Bridget wanted to keep her distance from Mrs. Drake, and the feeling appeared mutual.

So Bridget had gone independent, starting an online blog where she discussed the news each day. Occasionally, she would net an exclusive interview or story of her own - though it was more difficult, as her usual allies were not quite as present as they once were.

Felicia had moved on from the world of juicy stories and undercover disguises, and was now trying to live some semblance of a normal life. Bobbi had left town with Zuhal shortly after Bridget had lost her job; there was no indication of when either was coming back. Moira was still working steadily as a journalist - whoever had destroyed Bridget's reputation had not set their sights on any other reporters (yet) - but she was also spending a lot of her spare time with girlfriend Prema, trying to explore and develop their relationship.

Bridget leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. So much about her life, and her friends' lives, had changed in the past year. She had made new friends, and no shortage of new enemies. Several villainous women had tried to kill her or otherwise destroy her life. And she had gone from a star reporter to a work-at-home blogger.

Bridget sighed. She returned to her work.

Perusing the latest online trending topics, Bridget tried to find something that would make for a good story today. Her research on "Project Pluto" had reached a dead end, and she wasn't sure where to go with it. The rivalry between Dennison and Hobson Drilling had reached something of a conclusion, with the former acquiring the latter in a costly acquisition. And Cerberus Chemicals...

Bridget raised an eyebrow as she scrolled past the name "Cerberus Chemicals." She clicked the link.

"Interesting..." Lucille Weldon-Grant, the Cerberus executive exposed for a corruption scandal, was about to be released from prison. Somewhat earlier than expected, it seemed.

Bridget had previously encountered Ms. Weldon-Grant on a couple of other occasions while on the hunt for a story - once, disguised as her chauffeur, and another time, while posing as a waitress in a nightclub. Garnering an exclusive interview with this woman, so soon after she was released from prison, would be quite valuable.

Of course, it was partly Bridget's fault that Ms. Weldon-Grant had been sent to prison in the first place, and it was possible that the woman would not care to grant her an interview. But Bridget would deal with that problem later.

Before closing her computer, another story caught Bridget's eye.

The mayoral election was only a week away. While the incumbent mayor was still ahead in the polls, his challenger - a prominent city councilwoman - had risen in popularity, and the race was growing competitive.

Bridget saw a photo of one of the councilwoman's ads - a picture of the candidate, standing next to several smiling women in uniform. The councilwoman had made it her chief campaign promise to fight back against the rise of uniform stealing, which she referred to as "a scourge on our society." And her support was growing.

Bridget sighed again. So much had changed...

*********************

The office of Councilwoman Delilah Hargrove was abuzz with activity. Unsurprising, considering that the election was a scant few days away.

Campaign workers and volunteers were maintaining the phones, mailing out fliers, and sending out messages on social media. The air was filled with the sound of ringing phones and fervent conversation.

Jenna sat in the middle of it all, stuffing envelopes and basking in the glow. She had to admit - it was kind of thrilling.

She had joined the Hargrove campaign a few months ago, back when the councilwoman appeared to be a weak underdog. But over the last several weeks, the polls had narrowed considerably. Hargrove's message - "Stand up for women, stop the criminals" - had struck a chord with voters, particularly those who had grown apprehensive over the rise in uniform thefts in recent years.

Two of Jenna's coworkers sat beside her, writing posts to send out to social media.

"How about... Vote for Hargrove if you want to keep your clothes on?" Zephyr asked. A young woman with olive skin and brown pigtails, she was among the more fun-loving staffers on the team.

"Nah, that sounds almost like a threat," Claudia replied. A college graduate with dark skin and long curly black hair, she was a learned girl with a logical streak. "How about... My uniform, my choice?"

Jenna chuckled. "You guys have such imagination."

"Just doing our patriotic duty," Zephyr grinned. "Defending America from female kleptomaniacs."

"I can't understand it," Claudia said with a sigh. "By rights, we should be winning in a landslide next week. How is it that so many people don't care about the threat of uniform stealing?"

Jenna nodded. "Don't need to tell me. I have some friends... well, I had some friends back in my old job. I got along with them really well and everything. But... we disagreed pretty vehemently when it came to mugging innocent women and stealing their clothes." She sighed. "I haven't seen them in ages... and I'm not sure I want to."

Zephyr patted her shoulder. "Forget about them," she said dismissively. "Real friends don't hurt and strip innocent women."

Jenna nodded and managed a light smile.

"Excuse me...?"

The three women looked up to see another woman standing before them. She was dressed in a delivery uniform - brown shirt and khaki shorts, dark green baseball cap, and black sneakers. She had light skin and black hair in a ponytail, and was holding a package under her arm.

"I've got a special delivery for Councilwoman Hargrove," the deliverywoman said. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"Right here!" A voice called from behind.

Ms. Hargrove stepped out of her office and approached the desk. "A delivery? I wonder what it could be."

"Maybe it's an early concession speech from the mayor," Zephyr joked. Claudia nudged her in the ribs.

The deliverywoman handed the package to the councilwoman, who accepted it with a smile. "Thank you, dear. Have this for your trouble." She handed the deliverywoman a crisp five-dollar bill.

Then she set the package down on the desk and began opening it. "I wonder if it's a gift basket from the Ladies' Luncheon I spoke at last week... I loved the--"

SPLAT!

The little bomb exploded, splattering the councilwoman, along with Jenna, Zephyr, and Claudia, with green paint.

The office grew abruptly silent. Everyone stood dumbfounded, wondering what had just happened.

The deliverywoman let out a sudden cruel laugh.

"You'll never stop us!" she declared. "Uniform stealing forever!"

She sprinted towards the door.

"Get her!" Claudia yelled.

But the woman was too fast. She pushed past the secretary in the doorway and ran out of the building.

By the time Jenna and her friends reached the door, the woman had hopped on her motorbike and sped off, laughing. "Thanks for the tip!"

Claudia scowled as she watched the woman disappear around the corner. "Damn it!"

Ms. Hargrove approached the door, a solemn look on her face. "I was afraid of this."

"Afraid of what?" Jenna asked.

"It's one of those USBs," Zephyr commented.

Jenna stared at her blankly.

"The Uniform Swiping Babes," Claudia explained. "They're a gang of women who've popped up in recent months. Causing trouble, fighting what they believe is an infringement on their rights."

"They love mugging women and stealing their clothes," Zephyr added. "They don't do it because they need a disguise or anything... They just do it for fun."

Jenna shuddered. "It's insane to think that some women find this 'fun'..."

"It's a crazy world," Claudia agreed. "That's why... hey, do you hear something?"

The women glanced in the direction of a small delivery van parked near the curb. Sounds of muffled moaning seemed to be emanating from the rear.

Jenna and Claudia exchanged a glance. Then they hurried over to the van.

The rear doors were unlocked. Jenna swung them open to see the vehicle's sole passenger - a tall, light-skinned woman with sandy shoulder-length hair, dressed in a frilly pink balconette bra and matching panties. She had been gagged and bound with silver duct tape.

Jenna carefully pulled the tape from the woman's mouth. Immediately, the victim began sobbing. "She attacked me... Tied me up... Stole my uniform and van... She was laughing..."

Jenna helped the girl sit up while Claudia freed her wrists and ankles. "It's okay... It's okay, honey, you're safe now. I promise..."

They helped the poor woman out of the van. Upon seeing her, Ms. Hargrove let out a deep sigh.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am... What is your name?"

"Sandra," the deliverywoman said, still shaking.

"I'm so sorry, Sandra," Ms. Hargrove continued. "The woman who mugged you did so simply as a prank... She wanted to intimidate me and my campaign... I can assure you she failed, but she had no right to do what she did to you."

She turned to the doorway. "Zephyr, dear, prepare a cup of coffee for Sandra. We'll need to get her some clothes as well - I think we should have some spare shirts and pants in the campaign bin. Come, girls, quickly."

Sandra swallowed. "That's... very kind of you, ma'am, but..."

"No buts," Ms. Hargrove replied. "Every woman who has ever had her clothing stolen deserves sympathy and respect. And when I am mayor, that is exactly what they're going to get."

Sandra brightened. "Yes, now I recognize you... From the TV ads. I'm absolutely going to vote for you."

Ms. Hargrove grinned. "Thank you, dear. Now let's get you inside and dressed in some clothes."

Jenna grinned as well as she helped Sandra to the door.

Finally, she was around women like her - women who were willing to fight back.

**********************

Felicia had a spring in her step as she strode down the sidewalk. The air was cool and fresh, reflecting her peaceful mood.

It had been a quiet few months - and yet, an eventful period as well. She had finished up her elective classes, and had recently gotten a full-time office job. She also had found love - a charming young man who seemed genuinely interested in her.

Felicia had never had much time for dating before - she was always busy researching aliens, exploring interesting stories. She had spent countless days going on dangerous adventures, infiltrating perilous locations and wearing often illegally obtained disguises. She had almost forgotten the more mundane aspects of being a young woman - of finding love, living a normal life.

But her life in recent months had been - dare she say it? - very much near normal. Her boyfriend was kind and sweet and always willing to talk. Obviously she hadn't told him everything about her life - she had been careful never to let any info slip about her past endeavors as a professional infiltrator and uniform thief. But otherwise, their conversations had been fruitful and fun.

Felicia still had plans for her life - but less dangerous ones than she may have had a year ago. She wanted to be a wife... a mother... a working woman doing her part to improve society. And she wanted to do it without mugging and stealing the clothes of other women who were simply trying to do the same thing.

Felicia approached the door to Ellen Lawrence's house and knocked. She had struck up quite a friendship with the NASA scientist in recent months. The woman was kind and caring, and always ready with a good cup of coffee and a listening ear.

As with her boyfriend, Felicia did not talk to Ellen about everything - particularly not about their first encounter. About a year ago, when Felicia first infiltrated the NASA facility, she had covertly mugged Ellen, tied her up, and stolen her clothes. Ellen had no idea that the woman whom she had formed a close friendship with in recent months was also the woman who had attacked her and left her bound and gagged in her underwear, stuck all night in a bathroom stall.

Felicia had kept that encounter secret, not wanting to jeopardize her friendship with such a kind and sweet woman. And thus far, their relationship had been going fine.

Ellen answered the door, wearing her jacket. "Felicia, hi! Didn't think you were popping in."

"I was in the neighborhood... just wanted to say hi," Felicia smiled.

"I'm glad you did," Ellen replied. "Only... I was stepping out right now. Gonna take a walk around the park."

She thought for a moment. "Say, you want to join me? It's a lovely day. I wouldn't mind the company."

Felicia nodded. "Sounds great."

**********************

It was a good day for a racing competition. The sun was out, the breeze was cool, and the horses were well-fed.

So it was that the Ladies' Equestrian Club of Atlanta had scheduled their annual competition on this day. Professional women of the horse-racing world were gathered here today to prove who could cross the finish line first.

For most of the women at the stables and the adjoining arena, it was all in good fun. But as was always the case, some equestrians took the competition more seriously.

One such equestrian was Jolene. Tall and blonde, with light skin and dark blue eyes, she was among the more seasoned professionals in the club. She had partaken in the race for the past three years, and had never won, but each year had made her more determined to take home the top prize. And this year, she told herself, would be the year.

"Make sure those horseshoes are polished," she told the stable workers sternly as she strode past. "And that mane must be brushed to perfection! I can't have a winning photo op with a disheveled horse."

The stable workers simply nodded. They didn't want to risk an earful from the pampered and intimidating young woman.

Jolene certainly looked intimidating, and imposing, in her equestrian uniform. The outfit consisted of a black riding helmet (beneath which her long blonde hair had been tied), a black riding jacket over crisp white shirt with a jabot, slim-fitting white jodhpurs, black riding gloves, and knee-high black leather riding boots. She clasped a black riding crop in one hand, swinging it with each step.

Jolene was about ready to race, but she decided to stop by the changing rooms to check on her friend and fellow rider Emilia. The two women usually rode to the starting line together, but Emilia had needed some more time to get ready. Jolene wondered what was taking her so long.

The changing room was dark as she stepped in. Most of the other equestrians were already out on the field.

"Emilia?" Jolene groped around for the light switch. "Are you here?"

She found the switch and flipped it on. She could see another woman sitting in the corner of the room, her back to the door. She was dressed similarly to Jolene, except with a red jacket instead of a black one. The woman was currently bending down and fitting her feet into the riding boots.

"Emilia?" Jolene approached the woman. "Why don't you answer?"

She put a hand on the woman's shoulder. In response, the woman stood up and turned around, smiling at Jolene.

"Probably," she said, "because I'm not Emilia."

Jolene took a step back, startled. She was about to ask who this woman was when all her speech functions were suddenly disrupted. Another woman grabbed her from behind and pressed a chloroform pad over her mouth.

"Hhrrmmmppphhhh??" Jolene struggled, trying to break free. But her assailant held on fast, restricting her movements with an arm around her waist.

Jolene gave it her best shot, but it wasn't good enough. Her movements slowed, her eyelids fluttered. A few more muffled whimpers, and she fell unconscious.

Bobbi lowered the equestrian to the floor. Meanwhile, Zuhal stepped over to the door and closed it for privacy.

"That was close," she commented. "I was worried we weren't going to get you a uniform before the race."

Bobbi dragged the unconscious blonde to a nearby closet. "Remind me again why we're infiltrating a horse race?"

"It's one of the last stops on my list," Zuhal said. "Equestrianism is the kind of sport that requires skill, tenacity, fortitude. I always wanted to take part in it... And it's a good learning experience for you too!"

Over the last several months, Zuhal and Bobbi had been on something of a "road trip," driving around the country to pass the time while the authorities - who were still searching for Zuhal due to her criminal past - lost interest in her.

To pass the time and make things more interesting, Zuhal had written up a checklist of "Uniforms Not Yet Stolen" - a list of every type of uniform or disguise she'd never worn before. And across their road trip, she had found ample opportunity to cross many of the items off her list - florist, barista, magician, veterinarian. It was a fun way to try new perspectives and experience new lifestyles - and of course, to partake in some good old-fashioned uniform thievery with Bobbi.

The latest item on her list was "equestrian," which is why they had researched the nearest horse racing club. Zuhal was now dressed in an equestrian uniform she had liberated from one of the competitors, and Bobbi was now helping herself to a uniform of her own.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?" Zuhal asked, straightening her hat in the changing room mirror. "I haven't done it in years. Certainly not a racehorse."

"Don't we need training for this?" Bobbi asked from inside the closet. "Those horses can move pretty fast... What if one of us slips and falls?"

Zuhal chuckled. "What's life without a little danger, Bobbi?" She gave herself an approving nod in the mirror. "It makes everything more fun."

Bobbi stepped out of the closet, now fully dressed in Jolene's equestrian uniform. "I keep forgetting you're a daredevil at heart."

"And you're not?" Zuhal asked. "You engage in some pretty risky activities in your life, Bobbi."

She glanced into the closet. Jolene sat on the floor, stripped to her lavender plunge bra and basic blue French panties. Next to her sat the light-skinned, raven-haired Emilia, also unconscious, dressed only in a rosy lace bra and white boyshorts.

"Of course, you could also argue that any woman who puts on a uniform nowadays is engaging in risky activity... considering how likely it is to get stolen." She chuckled and shut the closet door.

Bobbi nodded. "Fair point... I just wonder if we aren't being a little oblivious."

"Oblivious how?"

"Well, we've been driving cross-country for months... stealing women's uniforms at every town we've been to. And don't get me wrong, it's been a lot of fun! But it also feels like... like at some point, we should do something different."

Zuhal raised an eyebrow. "Different... like what? Stealing men's uniforms?" She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"No, of course not... I mean... I just mean, there's more to life than mugging women for their clothes." Bobbi paused. "I love doing it, of course... But I don't want it to completely define who I am."

Zuhal was silent for a moment, then nodded. "By any chance, are you feeling a little homesick?"

Bobbi sighed. "Kind of... but, I don't know if I want to go back. Felicia hates me, and I don't think Bridget much cares for me anymore either."

She crossed her arms. "I just don't know what to do with my life right now."

Zuhal paused again, absorbing Bobbi's words. Then she nodded.

"Tell you what," she said. "My list of uniforms is almost complete. After this equestrian thing, what say we do something else for a while? Find something you like that doesn't involve disguises or anything."

Bobbi nodded slowly. "Yes... yes, I'd like that."

"Great." Zuhal picked up her riding crop. "But first, we've got some horses to race."

She walked to the door. Bobbi followed behind her.

"May the best woman win," Zuhal said as she opened the door.

Bobbi smiled. "I'm sure you'll try."

*********************

Prema sat cross-legged at her desk, typing away at her report. Her job at Dennison Drilling seemed to get more difficult and time-consuming each day, but she had grown accustomed to its complex difficulties and machinations. In a way, she was starting to embrace it.

A voice came on the intercom. "Prema, there's a Moira Mills to see you."

"Thank you, Nita," Prema replied. "Send her in."

Moira stepped into the office, a grin on her face. "You've got a very charming secretary," she said. "And you let her call you Prema!"

Prema nodded. "She's a sweetheart, for sure. We've become good friends... She even stuck around after that... incident a few months ago."

"Which incident is that?"

"When Dr. Chen's goons broke into my office to kidnap me... One of them tied Nita up and stole her clothes." Prema sighed. "But she didn't quit after that. Said she wasn't scared by it."

"Good for her," Moira smiled.

"I suppose," Prema commented. "Although I wonder... It seems like women are starting to accept clothes stealing as a fact of life. Just something that happens, you know? So they're less scared about it because they figure it happens to everyone eventually." She sighed.

Moira looked at her a bit guiltily. "If it makes you feel better, I haven't mugged any women for their clothes in about..." She counted off on her fingers. "...three weeks?"

Prema let out a short laugh. "By your standards, that's pretty good. Let's see if you can make it a month."

In the few months since they had begun dating, Moira and Prema had grown closer, although there were still differences between them. Moira was still a journalist, one who would sometimes use tactics of disguise and infiltration in order to get a story. Prema still disapproved of such tactics (even though she had employed them in the past a few times herself) and was trying her best to get Moira to cut down on the habit of mugging women for their uniforms.

Prema sat back in her chair. "Anyway, what brings you to my office?"

"I just like watching you work," Moira replied. "You're so sexy when you fill out reports."

Prema laughed. "I'm flattered."

"But also," Moira continued, "I've got a new assignment this week. There's a new shuttle launch at NASA, and the paper wants me to cover it. They gave me two tickets to the launch. Wanna join?"

Prema gave her a strange look. "Seriously?"

Moira looked surprised. "What's wrong?"

"I've been to NASA before," Prema explained. "Not of my own volition, remember? Dr. Chen kidnapped me and took me there... She was going to kill me."

"I though Chen kidnapped you and took you to Chrysalis Hall."

"No, that was the second time she kidnapped me. I'm referring to the first."

Moira paused. "Oh... I don't think I was there for that one."

"It was right after we first met... You tied me up, remember?"

Moira nodded. "Oh yes... vaguely. Goodness, it's hard to keep track of everything that's happened in our lives lately."

"No kidding. Anyway, the point is that I can't go back to NASA. Too many bad memories... I almost died there."

Moira placed a sympathetic hand on Prema's shoulder. "I understand. And it's totally fine."

She stood up again. "But I do want to take you out somewhere... Some place special. Nothing but the best for my girl."

Prema blushed slightly. She had grown used to being "Moira's girl," but it still felt a bit strange whenever Moira said it out loud.

"After I get off work tonight," Prema suggested, "why don't we catch dinner and a movie?"

Moira nodded and grinned. "It's a date."

**********************

After a long drive, Oksana and Polina reached the dilapidated-looking warehouse. Oksana punched in the code and they slipped inside.

The inside of the warehouse was far more technologically advanced than the outside made it appear. The hallways were lined with electronic doors, behind some of which came the hum of several large computers. Oksana and Polina walked past these as they headed down the hall.

A young woman with light skin and long dark hair stepped out of one room. Judging by her gym clothes and the sweat on her forehead, she had just been in a workout.

"Hello, Svetlana," Oksana greeted her. "How goes the training?"

Svetlana grinned. "Very well indeed," she said. "Our government has sent us a dozen of the finest soldiers they have. Strong, resourceful... deadly, if need be."

"All women?" Oksana inquired.

"Of course. They wouldn't risk men for a mission this important."

"Good point," Oksana smirked. "Well, make sure they're all fit and ready. We strike in a matter of days."

Svetlana saluted and walked off.

Oksana and Polina approached a door at the end of the hall. Oksana knocked and waited for the response: "Enter."

The two women strode in. Seated the small office was Dr. Julia Chen, and standing beside her were Lana and Sabira.

"I was just updating the girls on our status," Chen said. "Do you have the files?"

Oksana approached her and held out her wristwatch-camera. "All right here in photos. Will only take a minute to download."

Dr. Chen did not stand up; although she had been recovering from the accident that had left her bound to a wheelchair for the last few months, she still felt more comfortable seated. She took the small camera. "Perfect."

She then turned to her computer, removed the small drive from the camera, and began downloading the photos. The other women in the room waited silently, with bated breath.

She smiled as she scanned the photos - blueprints, schematics, foundational details.

Then, slowly, her smile faded. "Goddamn it."

"What's wrong?" Oksana asked.

"These files are incomplete," Chen said. "I remember - I'm the one who helped design some of them."

She glared at Oksana and Polina. "Where are the rest of the files? I swear, if you idiots fucked this up..."

Polina held her hands up in defense. "Hey, I just minded the guard booth."

Oksana kept her composure, even if she couldn't deny that Dr. Chen's cold, unfeeling glare gave her the creeps. "I... I took photos of whatever they had. Everything you see is all the NASA-related stuff I could find."

Chen's eyes narrowed, as though she was trying to detect if Oksana was lying. Oksana gulped inwardly.

Then Dr. Chen turned back to her computer. "I suppose those NASA idiots are smarter than they look... They probably hid the rest of the files in a more secure location... Likely maintained as hard copies, in order to avoid any risk of hacking."

"We can get the rest of the files," Polina offered. "Where do you want us to look?"

"You two have done quite enough," Chen said dismissively. "Leave now."

Polina was about to respond, but a quick look from Oksana convinced her to keep quiet. The two Russians exited the room.

Dr. Chen turned to her other associates. "Sabira, I have a hunch where the remaining Project Pluto files are hidden. Are you able to obtain them?"

Sabira grinned. "Just name the place. I've been itching for some action."

"Good. I'll arrange the details shortly and prepare your transport."

Chen then turned to Lana. "I have an assignment for you as well."

Lana smiled. "Does it involve ruining Bridget Baxter's life again?"

Chen was quiet for a moment. She wheeled herself over to Lana, then motioned for her to bend down. Lana obliged.

In one swift motion, Dr. Chen grabbed Lana by the neck, her fingers tightening around her throat.

"Hey..." Sabira started to protest, but Dr. Chen silenced her with a brief glare before training her eyes on Lana, who was now gasping for breath.

"We've been over this," Dr. Chen said softly. "Never... ever... utter that woman's name in my presence."

Lana's face was turning red. She tried breaking free, but Chen held on tight.

"Speak her name again, and it will be the last breath you draw," Dr. Chen continued, in the quiet tone of a schoolteacher lecturing a student. "Is that clear?"

Lana nodded, as much as she could.

Chen kept squeezing Lana's neck for another few seconds, then abruptly let go. The young woman dropped to the ground, coughing and gasping.

"I'm glad we understand each other," Chen said. "Now get out of my sight."

Lana staggered to her feet, rubbing her reddened throat. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

"I said go," Chen spoke more sternly. "We'll discuss your next assignment later."

Lana staggered out the door.

Sabira watched her leave, then turned back to Chen. "You almost killed her."

"If I'd wanted to kill her, she'd be dead," Chen replied flatly. "I've been planning this revenge of mine for the better part of a year now. I will not tolerate careless employees."

"But what is the plan for Br... I mean, for that reporter?" Sabira asked. "Are you still planning to ruin her life?"

"Only for a little while longer," Chen replied. "Then I'm simply going to end it."

A cruel grin spread across her face. "In a matter of days, NASA will be reduced to dust and ashes. And Bridget Baxter will get the blame."

She gave a brief chuckle, then turned back to Sabira. "Now fetch me some coffee. I've got plenty more work to do."

[Arc]

Excellent start tirepanted, as always!

I'm really liking how you are developing your storyline, and I can’t wait to see the next part.

I find particularly intriguing how you talk about the "effects " of continuos uniform stealing, from the creation and growth of a political movement who wants to tackle it to the exact opposite, a gang of women who want to steal uniforms and clothes just for fun and actively "campaign" for it. It really help bring the world to life, and you do it masterfully.

I also really liked how Zuhal and Bobbi have an entire list of "unstolen uniforms", and how they are actively trying to exhaust it. I'm a fan of rearly used uniforms, so I can definitely appreciate that.

In conclusion, I really liked your start, and I'm sure that the rest of the chapter will be just as good, if not even better!

[simon4242]

im quietly confident bobbi and zuhal will get their just desserts in the meantime wonderful work as usual

[meditions142]

What a wonderful, epic new installment!

As Arc said, I do love the idea of uniform stealing becoming a main political campaign platform. Very fun world building.

So many great scenes. I particularly liked the scene with Francie. First off, love using the previously stolen uniform to trick a guard. And of course Francie is the typical “dumb guard” who falls for the trick. Also, having her read the note and then immediately neck chopping her was wonderful.

And I loved the decription of the effect on Francie when she got the neck chop: “Francie gasped, and for a moment looked paralyzed. Then, with a soft moan, she slumped forward over her desk.” Very well described.

Then there is the fun dialogue “Polina, do you have to make a comedy routine out of everything?" Polina glanced back at her partner and grinned. 'Lighten up, Oksana. It's been a while since you and I went out on one of these undercover assignments." "Not long enough," Oksana replied. "Now hurry up and get dressed." Love imagining the scene of them having that conversation while Francie lays there unconscious.

I also really liked the secretary scene. Fun that we saw Sonja and Chandra already in the stolen uniforms first. And it is fun that we are left to imagine what was done to neutralize them. We know that by the time Sonja and Chandra return the women are conscious. However, we don’t know what was done to them. Where they simply forced to strip or were then knocked out somehow. I like to imagine knocked out somehow just as they were getting ready to start their smoke break. Neck chops perhaps?

Such an overall fun chapter. Just pointing out what stood out to me.

[esercito sconfitto]

"Uniform Stealing Forever!"

If this is the start of the last Volume, then the beginning of the end is an unforgettable moment; and another Volume of the Spacesuit saga is a big step for Uniform Stealing Women

definitely, this is the chapter I was waiting for, almost entirely about the USB trend and tendency and its political impact on society, mass media etc, eventually running between Crime spree and Liberation movement


thanks for being back , Tirepanted

[tirepanted3]

Arc: Thanks! The world-building is essential for me in writing. Earlier volumes focused on the characters as individuals, but over time, I've become equally interested in exploring how uniform stealing impacts society as a whole.

This volume is also a way to feature certain types of uniforms I haven't written into the stories before, which is where the idea for Zuhal's "Uniforms Not yet Stolen" list comes from. It's a way of showing how cavalier she is about mugging other women for their clothes, and an opportunity to feature some unfortunate new victims - the series has never featured a USB scene with equestrians before.

Simon: Thank you. As the last volume, it's a safe bet that some of the characters will be getting their just desserts. But I won't say any further...

Meditions: Thanks. I tried to write the concept of "anti-uniform stealing political campaign" in a way that seemed rational and logical. It's a very fun way to explore the topic.

I love opening volumes with a security guard mugging, since it's a classic form of infiltration that demonstrates the thieves are after something valuable. But as you point out, it's also a great way to feature some comedy and fun dialogue, which is always one of the highlights of writing these stories.

Sonja and Chandra were on something of a time budget, so I assume they knocked the secretaries out. But it's fun to sometimes open a scene with the uniforms already stolen and the infiltration ongoing, and leave a few key aspects to the imagination.

Esercito: Thanks, much appreciated. And I've definitely been building to this chapter and volume for a while - a volume that explores the social and political ramifications of uniform stealing on society. The "divide" between the political campaign and the women who push against it - best exemplified by the fake deliverywoman's rallying cry - is a key point. There will be more such commentary in future chapters.


Thanks for the comments; I hope to have the next chapter up fairly soon.

[rufusluciusivan]

Noooooooooooooo... I had an idea for a small story featuring Lucina and Selena in which they infiltrate a horse race by impersonating a jockey, because they figured out it would fit their 'shtick' of infiltrating sports events. Curse you, Zuhal! Curse you, and your list!





Zuhal, I hereby dub you my new nemesis. You may be fictional, we may not live on the same plane of existence, but one day I shall have my revenge...

... Please apologize about that. Just your normal everyday psychotic break. So, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let's begin with the real comment.

It won't be a long comment anyway. The chapter introduces all the main players, and main story arcs, of this volume. (Well, almost all of them. Ashley is nowhere in sight. ... ... ... ... ... Sorry, but I had to make that joke at least once in your final volume. The saga wouldn't have felt complete in my eyes without it. I think I'm gonna miss that joke actually... )
This introduction is classic and efficient. A bit impressed that you managed to include so many characters while keeping up the pace. It might seem strange to some people, but I always found the exposition scenes are actually a lot harder to write than the infiltration scenes - especially because they often are moments during which there isn't any clothes theft. And when there is a long moment of exposition, it means a long period of time without uniform stealing.

I admit I was a bit surprised that Bridget got over her trauma so quickly after the heavy scene at the end of the last volume, but that's what time skips are for.

The fourth wall awareness is off the charts, I must say. Zuhal's "Uniforms Yet Stolen" list almost sounds like a topic which could be started on this very Board. Plus it's a clever excuse to feature new disguises.

Same comment about Hargrove's campaign and her opponents who are uniform stealers who want to keep stealing uniforms. Fourth wall awareness, fourth wall awareness everywhere.

Also, about the Uniform Swiping Babes... It looks like trackman took over the writing process for one scene... With a name like that, I swear they are more than qualified to be the wacky villains of one of Stasis' side-adventures...

Some funny interactions - the best ones were provided by Oksana and Polina. (Sorry Sonja. High heels jokes are funny, but a bit too classic to win the "best quip award".) My favorite:

"Is there a problem, officer?" the scientist asked.

Oksana approached her. "There is," she admitted. "But it's easily solved by your clothes."

Finally, a weird detail to notice, but I just loved the transition between Oksana's and Sonja's segments. "She'll get the punishment she deserves." / "I don't deserve this punishment." Classic figure of style, but I just loved it.

I admit I feel a bit nostalgic now that the final volume has finally officially begun. After several years, I suppose it's logical. A page has begun to be turned. Of course, the ride isn't over yet and we still have chapters ahead of us, but it's still the beginning of the end. Though of course we all knew it was going to end eventually. I'm in fact very happy this saga will have a finite conclusion. Good luck for this last installment.

[tirepanted3]

First, no need to apologize for the psychotic break. Zuhal has been known to drive a lot of people mad with her antics, so don't feel too bad. On the subject of Selena and Lucina though, wasn't there already a story ("Betting on the Right Horse") where they impersonate workers at a horse stable? I suppose Zuhal deserves some ire for ripping them off...

Good catch regarding the main cast - the first chapter reintroduces nearly all the main players (and catches up to where they've been the past few months) with the exception of Ashley. However, I'd urge you to be patient - it wouldn't be a true USB adventure if Ashley didn't turn up at some point...

Exposition scenes remain difficult to write, but over the years I've learned to weave them in with the uniform steals. It helps in this case that a lot of the exposition is about uniform stealing, so there are ways to bring up the topic even when there's minimal action involved.

Bridget was definitely hurt by the end of Volume 6, and some of the pain lingers, but she's the type of woman who learns to move on. The time jump was a way of helping ease the transition.

It's true that the series has reached a new level of fourth-wall awareness without actually breaking the fourth wall. As I said before, I want to use this volume to explore the impact of uniform stealing on a society that is embroiled in it. So we have characters who engage in it for fun (Zuhal and the "Uniform Swiping Babes") and those who are standing up to fight back (the Hargrove campaign).

"Uniform Swiping Babes" was actually a throwaway joke from "Terror on the Seas." I thought it would be funny to expand it here into an actual group of rebellious women.

The banter between Oksana and Polina was very fun to write. They're relatively new characters, but with a familiar dynamic (serious woman and funny sidekick on a mission) and it was fun coming up with new quips for them, as well as making that brief transition highlighting their soured relationship with Sonja.

I always knew this saga was going to have a finite conclusion, it just took me a while to determine how and where to end it. (Originally it was supposed to end after five volumes, but the need to explore certain characters made it necessary to expand it to seven.) I don't want to risk the series and main characters growing stale. I also feel a bit nostalgic for these characters, but I hope to conclude their arcs in a way that is entertaining and satisfying. And of course, with a lot of uniform stealing on the side.

[rufusluciusivan]

Well, TECHNICALLY, I suppose an equestrian isn't exactly the same thing as a jockey. Unless I'm mistaken, an equestrian would be doing it as a hobby while a jockey is a professional rider who takes part in races with bets. (At least the equivalents of these words in my language have this distinction.) But the joke was too tempting...

Exposition scenes remain difficult to write, but over the years I've learned to weave them in with the uniform steals. It helps in this case that a lot of the exposition is about uniform stealing, so there are ways to bring up the topic even when there's minimal action involved.

There's also the classic technique of beginning in medias res with an infiltration, and then starting the exposition. Didn't mention it in my first comment, because it's one you've already used a lot of time. So I didn't have anything much to say, except repeating this is a good technique.

The in medias res beginning... The many narrative arcs... The numerous characters... I feel like this story will be an occasion to witness all your favorite writing techniques one last time.

It's true that the series has reached a new level of fourth-wall awareness without actually breaking the fourth wall. As I said before, I want to use this volume to explore the impact of uniform stealing on a society that is embroiled in it. So we have characters who engage in it for fun (Zuhal and the "Uniform Swiping Babes") and those who are standing up to fight back (the Hargrove campaign).

It's indeed an interesting angle to explore.

"Uniform Swiping Babes" was actually a throwaway joke from "Terror on the Seas." I thought it would be funny to expand it here into an actual group of rebellious women.

Didn't remember that detail, I confess. Though I maintain my statement. I think these women would be in their element facing Stasis in a wacky side-adventure. Remind me a little of Uniform Stealing Bianca. Must be the initials. Maybe they should send a CV?

[tirepanted3]

There's also the classic technique of beginning in medias res with an infiltration, and then starting the exposition. Didn't mention it in my first comment, because it's one you've already used a lot of time. So I didn't have anything much to say, except repeating this is a good technique.

Yes, as I mentioned previously, it's fun to sometimes begin in middle of an infiltration and let the reader figure out the details from there. A nice way to shake the story up and keep it from feeling too routine.

The in medias res beginning... The many narrative arcs... The numerous characters... I feel like this story will be an occasion to witness all your favorite writing techniques one last time.

I do love stories with numerous characters and multiple intersecting arcs, it's true. If only they weren't so difficult and time-consuming to write... Especially considering how many volumes this series has run and how many different characters have been introduced, I feel like even I as a writer need to start making graphs and flowcharts to keep track of who everyone is and how they connect with other characters.

Didn't remember that detail, I confess. Though I maintain my statement. I think these women would be in their element facing Stasis in a wacky side-adventure. Remind me a little of Uniform Stealing Bianca. Must be the initials. Maybe they should send a CV?

Hey, you never know. The USB universe seems to be abundant with crossovers.