Homebound Sector, Haven System, Ariea, Valkar, City of Lion’s Den
Lion’s Den was a modest settlement by modern standards. Tucked away in the mountains, it was still big enough to have a space port and suburbs, but lack the hubbub of a major city. Out in the suburbs, the sky was just beginning clear, and the smell of petrichor hung heavy in the autumn air. Amelia Keinfelter-Gives stood looking out the windows of her home, watching the last of the rain run off the roof. She had found the rain fitting. The sky must have been sad to hear the news, but that didn’t change it. Her father was dead.
A few people had stopped by leave casseroles or cookies on the porch, but she had yet to touch any of the sympathy food. She was already sick of it. The same thing had happened after her husband’s death aboard the Ariea. There had been more cards and food delivered than she could ever need. She was obligated to be grateful, but she wished they would just leave her alone. Every card and every casserole was a reminder, so when the doorbell rang again, she was unexcited.
She opened the front door and let her eyes adjust to the outdoors’ bright light. The warming temperature and birds chirping in the distance did not help her miserable mood. Her facade of false gratitude dissipated when she recognized her visitor.
“Good afternoon Amelia.” Admiral Reeter said, “May I come in?”
Without her reply, he stepped past her into the house. Exhausted, she followed, “What are you doing here, Reeter?” She asked, not bothering to keep her tone polite. She despised this man. He was the sour grape that turned the whole wine batch rancid.
The blond-haired Admiral made himself at home, sitting casually in one of the kitchen’s chairs. “How about some lemonade?” he said, cracking his fingers one by one, “You do make the best.”
Amelia knew better than to disobey him. He would not hesitate to punish her in whatever way he saw fit. She poured a cold glass of her son’s favorite drink and set it in front of the military officer.
“A straw, please?”
Swallowing her pride, she retrieved a straw and tossed it into the glass. “What do you want?”
He ignored her, instead peering past her into the next room where Harrison sat playing with a set of toys. The seven-year-old was blissfully unaware of the tension in the kitchen. Reeter watched him for a moment, noting the kid’s favorite toy was an old second-hand model of the Singularity. Ironic, he mused, considering the reason he was here. But more interesting, the toys he’d brought over as a peace offering were nowhere in sight.
Amelia disrupted his thoughts when she told her son, “Harrison, why don’t you take your toys upstairs and play?”
“Yes, Mom.” He grabbed the old model and disappeared, leaving the rest of his toys in the middle of the floor.
Sighing, Amelia went and picked them up, dropping them into a drawer on her way back to the kitchen, “Excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting a visit from such a high ranking official.” She knew there was no getting rid of Reeter, so she settled for ignoring him and started to cook dinner.
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Slurping his lemonade, Admiral Reeter stood and moved to the countertop where Amelia was working. Eventually, she bumped into him, “Excuse me.” She said, pushing him aside to retrieve a pot from a cabinet under the counter.
As he watched her work around him, Reeter picked up an apple and took a large bite out of the crisp fruit, leaning casually against the cabinetry. He chewed it loudly and after wiping his mouth, finally spoke, “You know, the faster you settle down and listen to me, the faster I’ll be gone.”
She put down the knife she’d been using to slice carrots, “Just spit it out and leave.” Really, she didn’t care what he had to say, as long as he said it quickly and left.
The young Admiral carefully chewed another bite of apple. “I need to know where he is.”
“Where who is?”
Reeter narrowed his emerald green eyes, “We both know who I’m talking about.”
“No, we don’t.” She had no idea why he’d come to harass her today, let alone any other day.
“Your uncle.” The damned Fleet Admiral. “Where did he go?”
“What makes you think I know?” Why should she? And why didn’t he?
“Besides your son, your dear Uncle Will is your only surviving relative.” It was a cold little fact, “I would have thought you would keep better track of him-”
Amelia cut him off with a bitter laugh. “I don’t have a dear Uncle Will.” It wasn’t often she saw Reeter so poorly informed. “And I haven’t seen the Admiral in twenty years, maybe more. I haven’t spoken to him in just as long. He’s made the importance of family quite clear.” To him, they weren’t important at all. She doubted the man would bother to show up for his own brother’s funeral. “He’s probably on his ship. That’s where he’s been for the last twenty years.” Seemed like a reasonable assumption to her.
Reeter’s expression darkened. “Do not toy with me, Amelia.” He hated being interrupted by anyone, even an attractive woman like Amelia. Her attitude was most unwelcome. “I know your father visited you just prior to his final visit to Eagle’s Talon.” He spun the apple in his hands, “I’d like to know what he told you about Admiral Gives’ most recent actions.” He shifted his emerald eyes over to her. “I won’t ask again.”
She knew better than to resist him. With his authority, child-protective services were just a call away. He wouldn’t hesitate to separate her from her son. The bastard would probably get some enjoyment out of it. “Why do you even care?”
“Is it so wrong to be curious?” He set down the apple, taking an unwanted step closer.
She took a step back, finding herself cornered against the granite countertop. This wasn’t simple curiosity. She was certain of that. “The Singularity’s deployment is public record.”
“It should be, yes.” He admitted, smoothly taking another step closer and reaching out to twirl her fly away hairs on his finger. She went stiff as he leaned in to take a deep taste of her delicious scent. “But the Fleet Admiral left his operating plans with General Clarke alone. He didn’t bother updating the rest of the fleet.”
Amelia recoiled from the feeling of his hot breath across her face and gave him the nastiest glare she could muster. She just wanted him to go away. He would, but only if she gave him what he wanted. “I don’t know much.” She said, “My father only said that it would mark the first time in fifty years the Singularity would visit the sector. The last time had been the ship’s first mission.” She didn’t know the name of the sector. Her father had told the story in full detail to an eager Harrison while she had barely overheard snippets.
“The sector where the Singularity undertook her first mission.” Reeter echoed, a smile creeping across his face. The location of the battle that had been the turning point of the war fifty years ago. This was almost too easy. “So, Gives is in the Kalahari Sector.” He loved the irony of it. The ship’s place of critical success would be her place of bitter defeat. He stepped reluctantly away from Amelia. “I think it’s long past time your dear old uncle had a visitor from home.”