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The small section of Jena's desk – now tilted at a seventy-five degree angle to form a computer screen – displayed the image of a copper-skinned woman who sat with her back to a wall lined with paintings. Raela had always been pretty with big dark eyes and raven hair that fell to the small of her back. “Are you settling in?” she asked.
Seated in a big comfy chair with her hands on the armrests, Jena grunted. She wore a pair of black cargo pants and a white t-shirt. Her hair was cut boyishly short.
Jena closed her eyes, shaking her head with a sigh. “As well as I can be,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “These people are bizarre, and we both know that I was never meant to be a bureaucrat.”
She swiveled around.
Her office window looked out upon a field of stars that twinkled agai
