Kameelah adjusted the over-sized sunglasses cradled on the bridge of her nose before glancing down at herself once more. To put it bluntly, she felt absolutely ridiculous in this latest get-up. Designer
shades, a funky tee shirt, white running shoes, and denim jeans? Clearly not
her idea of intergalactic style. The moment she’d been outfitted and shown to a
mirror at the station, she’d protested. Still, Orba Vogue, head of the Hologram
Design Department, had insisted that the look was dead on. Determined to
undermine Kameelah’s complaints and very much to her chagrin, Orba launched
into a litany of details supporting the decision. Kameelah’s shoulders visibly
sagged in doubt.

“I guess I have to trust you on this one, because I certainly don’t feel comfortable right now.”

Orba placed a hand on one of her wide hips and tilted her head to one side. “I can’t believe you’ve drifted this far from your fashion instincts! Where’s that confident woman I met all those years
ago?” she demanded. “Half detective, half style…and you knew it! Chile,
a little weight gain ain’t never stopped me from living my life! You’d better
get on the good foot, and quit with the pity party,” she’d said in an irritated
huff.             

                Sighing in retrospect, Kameelah folded her arms across her chest, leaned against the sterile walls of the Dimension Transport Chamber, and forced herself to focus
on the bigger picture. Orba had been absolutely right. It wasn’t really about
how uncomfortable she felt. She’d served five full years on the force and had
been a part of numerous undercover missions to Earth. However, it had never
been under such delicate circumstances. The fact remained that Troy was out there
somewhere and she’d do whatever it took to get him back to the Qreo realm
safely, even if it meant sacrificing her insecurities while doing so.