15
Jasmine was a club on Station One, bathed in the harsh glow of blue neon lights that fell upon a sea of tables. A small balcony overlooked a dance floor that was almost empty, but the music went on nonetheless.
Slade let out a sigh.
He sat in a chair with his elbows on the armrests, his fingers steepled together in front of his face. “So, you wish a transfer back to Leyria…” he began with just enough volume to be heard over the music. “You're unhappy here?”
The young woman who sat across from him had long blonde hair and kept her head down so that he could not see her face. “It sounded like a great opportunity,” she said. “But the people on Earth are so…aggressive.”
Pursing his lips, Slade turned his face up to the ceiling. “I cannot argue with that,” he said, dark eyebrows rising.
