Page 4 of Searching the Skies

“Successful in that there were no civilian casualties in our settlements…”

Geneva tried directing her focus back to the admiral, but since he’d attracted her attention, Ash was difficult to ignore. She shifted her gaze to the right again and discovered him staring back at her. Horrified at being caught, she snapped her head back to face the podium and attempted to sit motionless for the remainder of the report.

When Walker dismissed them to address their teams, she rushed out of the conference room without looking back. She remembered enough facts and figures to relay to her soldiers and went over their performance with them from her own point of view. Her attention to detail finally took precedence in her mind, and the rest of the morning passed by without incident as she conducted what she hoped would be the last discussion about Ophari for quite some time.

After lunch, thoughts of Ash crept back into her head, and she was determined to vanquish them. A stop to her quarters let her change from her uniform into a tank top and a pair of shorts, and she headed for the ship’s gymnasium. She spent some time in the weight room, went for a long run on the treadmill, and took out all sorts of frustrations on an unsuspecting punching bag. No matter what she subjected her body to, Geneva couldn’t shake the feeling of Ash against her, and what it would be like to have him so close again.Why him? Why now?The rhythm of her gloves against the bag refused to drown out the questions echoing in her ears.What’s gotten into me?

A second shower was needed after her workout session. As she turned off the cooling spray, the high-pitched alert of the communicator she’d tossed onto her bed pierced the air. Flinging a towel around her torso, she ran into the next room and picked it up. “Commander Greyson,” she answered.

“Hello, Commander.” The feminine voice on the other end had an electronic twang to it but was pleasant enough for an artificial intelligence unit. “Admiral Walker has requested to see you at zero eight hundred tomorrow. Please confirm this time.”

“Uh…okay. Yes. Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Commander.” A melodic ding punctuated the AI’s statement. “Your appointment has been confirmed.”

Geneva dropped the small wristband back on the bed and frowned. She had no idea what the admiral wanted to discuss with her, but she wouldn’t have succeeded in squeezing any answers out of the robotic secretary. Racking her brain for possibilities as she dressed for bed produced no results, and she faced her second night in a row of fitful, restless sleep.

***

Back in her official uniform the following morning, anxiety made Geneva’s palms clammy as she paced outside the admiral’s office. She wasn’t kept waiting for long before the virtual assistant directed her inside. Admiral Walker sat at his desk, typing at a small tablet. When she entered, he looked up with an expression she couldn’t interpret. “Have a seat,” he instructed, pointing at one of the chairs opposite him.

“Yes, sir.” She did as she was told.

He set the tablet down and tapped his fingers in front of him. “You will be taking a two-week leave from your duties, effective tomorrow.”

“A leave? But why? What did I do?” The words burst out of her mouth before she realized it wasn’t the most appropriate of reactions.

His lips pressed together in a firm line. Geneva expected a reprimand for her outburst, but what followed assured her she was not the source of his discontent. “These orders are not coming from me. They’re coming from higher up.”

She raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

He exhaled, and his expression softened. “Commander, in all the years I have known you, you have never tried to use your family’s…statusto your advantage, which is both admirable and appreciated. However, it has become apparent their influence reaches even all the way out here to the distant systems.”

At the implied mention of her parents and their actions, a seething rage simmered inside her, but she managed to stay in control of herself. “So, I’m being forced home due to the whims of my father? Or, more likely, my mother, who talked him into…whatever it is he did, whatever strings he had to pull?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice even.

Walker sighed again and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s only two weeks, and we hope things will be slow around here while you’re gone.” Sympathy reflected in his gaze. “Go home, Geneva,” he said. “Find out what they want and do what you need to do. You’ll be back before you know it.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Yes, sir.”

“Your transport shuttle leaves first thing tomorrow morning.” He gestured toward the door. “Dismissed.”

Accepting that arguing would be futile, Geneva thanked the admiral for his time and hurried back to her quarters. Once in the privacy of her own room, she resisted the urge to scream or punch the wall as she thought about the trip being forced upon her. Enlisting in the military as soon as she was eligible had offered her the escape and the excitement she’d craved, but the decision had come with a price. While her relationship with her parents had always been strained, she couldn’t believe they would stoop so low to drag her back home. Trembling with the fury coursing through her system, she flung open her closet door and shoved some of her belongings into a duffel bag, choking back the flurry of emotions threatening to spill forth at any moment.

Chapter Three

Another lengthy training session and a cold shower did nothing to make Geneva feel any better, but she’d unclenched her jaw long enough to eat a light dinner. Her packed bag sat next to the door, ready to go, but she couldn’t sit around her room all evening, trying to forget what lay in store for her. She needed another distraction.

She changed into a plain black crew-neck T-shirt and cargo pants, as she had nothing official to attend to the rest of the day. Deciding not to bother trying to comb out her unruly waves, she tucked an elastic band into her pocket in case she got tired of her hair hanging in her face. She slid her feet into an old pair of worn sneakers and proceeded down the hallway toward the dining hall. Impulsively, she continued past it to a smaller room. A dozen or so soldiers milled about inside the bar, an area she frequented enough her appearance wasn’t a shock to anyone but not quite enough to be considered a regular.

“Good evening, Commander Greyson.” The young ensign who served as the bartender greeted her. “What can I get for you?”

“Something strong.” She tempered her initial reaction with the reminder she had to travel the following day. “Maybe nottoostrong.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed a clean glass from behind him and filled it with a dark, thick liquid. She accepted it from him and lifted it to her lips. It was ice cold, smelled bitter, and looked like the dregs from some ancient barrel. It was perfect.

She took her drink to the far end of the bar, sat down by herself, and finished it far too quickly. A second glass appeared in front of her, and she took her time with it. As she neared the bottom, a loud voice from behind her startled her.

“Well, well, imagine seeing you here!” Ash held a half-full glass of his own and accompanied his salutation with the smile Geneva had been trying to push out of her head. “Mind if I sit down?”

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