Stellar

Chapter Twelve

The Demeter Space Station had been quiet for months. The crew that inhabited the orbiting piece of metal was wrapped up in searching, too busy with their mission to crack jokes and pull pranks. Captain Jackson set up shifts in which the crew would search. The extent of his commands meant scheduled meal times, bathroom breaks, and hour of uninterrupted work.

Surprisingly, the distraught crew cared little about the strenuous hours. They were hell-bent on finding their commander, to which Anastasia was grateful for.

Her return was nothing short of joyous. Tears were shed between her comrades and cries of elation rang through the station. Jackson, a balding man not known for his affection, even embraced his right hand, muttering how glad he was that she was safe.

Much like the night before her departure from Utania, a party was thrown in Anastasia's honor. It lacked the extravagance of Eris', but it was a surprise that pleased the brunette and filled her heart. Seated at their meal of broccoli, cauliflower, and beef, all previously dehydrated of frozen. The familiar smells brought nostalgia, flooding the woman and almost allowing her a moment of peace from her heartbreak.

During the meal, Zuri, Johnny, and Anastasia--mainly her--were attacked with questions of their journey. Iliza was the most vocal, asking about everyone the commander came in contact with. They stayed clear of conversation about the queen though, something which Ana was grateful about. A few questions were aimed at her about the lavender woman, but noticing her obvious discomfort and reluctance, they left the topic alone.

Ana told them of the food and the customs. She tried teaching them a few words, but most thought it too difficult. It was easy to understand why--she had very little choice in learning if she wanted to communicate with others. So, she stuck with explaining, but she couldn't do the planet justice. It was beautiful, almost indescribable.

The shiny, new-toy appeal that coated the brunette quickly faded over the next weeks. Everyone resumed their daily tasks, normalcy falling over the station. She was grateful for this--she could start to heal, or so she thought.

Her nights were commonly sleepless or nightmare-filled. When she woke, dripping with sweat and panting like a deer thirsty for water, she sobbed. Involuntarily, she would curl into herself, salty tears streaming down pink cheeks. She would whimper like a kitten without its' mother, nothing soothing the aching in her soul until her ears would hear a memory.

"En qodat frigatô, jut etïm."

In another life, my soul.

Simple words haunted the woman. It offered empty comfort, but being a fool with a broken heart, Ana allowed it to lull her to sleep, even if only for an hour.

This, of course, caused a handful of problems for the brunette the following morning. She woke grumpy and short tempered, all of her nerves on edge. Her meals were ate reluctantly, not willing to waste the decent food she was provided. It could have been worse--they could still be eating meals from tubes that looked tooth paste.

Most avoided unnecessary conversation with her, as well as eye contact. They weren't willing to risk getting on the brunette's bad side. Again, Anastasia didn't mind--it allowed her to busy herself, much like she was doing now.

After being gone for so long, she had reports stacked to the ceiling. Her main responsibility was going through the various data they collected from search missions and experiments, but right now, everything was blurring. She wasn't sure where one report ended and where the other began.

"There's a lot to catch up on."

Ana raised her head from her paperwork, meeting Iliza's gaze. She was a senior member of the team despite being one of the youngest, tall and blonde, and full of witty retorts. From their countless hours of working together, Anastasia had full trust in the woman.

"You have no idea," the commander agreed, "What brings you here?"

The blonde sat next to her superior, hazel eyes piercing. "I finished exercising, and I figured I'd come see you."

Ana groaned internally--she had yet to do her required two hours of exercise to ensure her bones didn't atrophy, and she was dreading it to say the least. "If only you could do mine for me too," she mused playfully.

Iliza shifted in her seat, laughing for a moment. Her attitude changed, more serious as speckled eyes intensified. "Excuse me for my boldness, Commander, but you're not well."

"Excuse me?"

"I think you should speak with Captain Jackson about going back."

Blue eyes widened incredulously, surprised at her audacity. Iliza was a spitfire, sure, but her bluntness was usual tame. She knew, more often than not, when to keep her tongue in check.

"Iliza," she warned, crossing one leg over the other, "please remember your place."

"I know my place," she retorted, "but I know you too. You're not the same, and it's not a bad thing, but your heart isn't here anymore."

She stood, placing a soft hand on Anastasia's shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze. "It's not a bad thing," the blonde repeated, "Just talk with Jackson: he'll understand."

With that, Iliza left, leaving Ana in a confused state of mind. Her subordinate's words left imprints, spinning around her head and singing in her ears. If she had noticed this shift in behavior, it was highly likely that the others had noticed as well. Truly Ana wore her heart on her sleeve, especially with the crew she had spent years with. They had no reservations--nothing was held back, especially when it came to emotions.

Incessant reminders flooded the brunette. Memories of lavender legs and exotic fruits mingled with Iliza's words, shaken into a cocktail of regret and remorse. She didn't regret much, refused to dwell on the past, but Eris was something she couldn't shake. The raven-haired beauty was something else, indescribable and unforgettable, and the nagging Ana felt for leaving was a close relative to regret.

An idea popped into her head, louder than the previous plagues were, and persuaded action. She pushed all of her reports into a pile and gathered scrap paper, pen in hand moving furiously over it until all of the idea was thoroughly explained, persuaded, and finalized. All she needed now was approval.