Sayeeda watched as Neil turned and left the room. Apparently content to fall back on Indra without a second thought. She fell back onto her bed sprawling out across the silken sheets. It was just Neil’s way, she told herself, he just fixated on whatever woman was nearby, Quetzalli, Woods, Indra. Rightfully speaking she should be offended, but the peculiar melange of emotions evaded immediate description. She blew out her breath from between her teeth. Over the years she had known plenty of men and a smaller number of women, but rarely had she formed real lasting relationships. The reality of mercenary service was that you could called up a a moments notice and be hundreds of miles away in a day and hundreds of light years away in a week, never to return.

While individual troopers sometimes fraternized with their peers, officers were expected to avoid relationships with their subordinates and their peers alike, a policy that was strictly enforced in the Armored. That meant finding locals and those relationships could never be about more than sex. Was Neil a subordinate, a peer, should she care at all if he was so easily able to move from paramor to paramor? She blew a lock of hair out her face in frustration. As usual, she had made a mess of things.

Junebug opened her eyes as sunlight streamed in through the windows warming her face with a pleasant heat. She had fallen asleep where she lay and the damp towels were still coiled unpleasantly about her. Reluctantly she rose and poured herself a glass of clear springwater from a carafe on the liquor laden sideboard.

“Good morning Captain Cyckali,” a pleasant female voice announced. Sayeeda nearly jumped out of her skin, scrambling for a weapon for a moment before she realised there was no threat and felt foolish.

“I apologize for startling you, I am Luxa, the AI assistant here,” the voice explained. Junebug glance around, for the source of the voice, though if there were speakers they were too well concealed for her to detect.

“I guess I’ve had more unpleasant surprises in my life,” Junebug said in a conciliatory tone. 

“The Chancelor has requested your presence at breakfast, shall I let him know you will be attending?” the AI asked. Junebug shrugged her shoulders, wondering if Neil and Indra would be there.

“Provided there will be coffee you may,” Junebug replied, pulling open cupboards to find clothing, apparently tailored for her.

“I will inform the chefs of your dietary requirements.”

“What is the dress code?” she asked, uncertain of what to wear.

“Breakfast will be served on the beach, swimsuits are customary,” Luxa replied.

“Perfect,” Junebug said with a sigh.