Stellar

Chapter Thirteen

Up until lights out was called, Anastasia was working tirelessly. Her hand furiously scribbled against paper, outlining her plan and the possible side effects of it. It was incredibly time consuming and mentally draining. The only way she kept going was by reminding herself of Iliza's and Eris' words.

When she had finally finished--three sheets filled, front and back--she took a quick bathroom break and headed to the men's cabin, pages in hand. Knuckles grazed the door, and just as soon as she knocked, it was opened to reveal Johnny, ginger hair mused.

"What's up, Ana?"

"Is Jackson in here?" She questioned, peering around him to scan the room.

"Nope, last I saw, he was in the kitchen."

Ana pivoted and rushed away, throwing "thank you," over her shoulder. When she reached the kitchen, sure enough, Jackson was there, candy bar in hand. He looked ready for bed, even when chewing.

"Captain?" the brunette called out.

He faced the commander, humming in response, chocolate still between cheeks.

"Do you have a minute to talk, sir?"

He nodded, gesturing for her to come closer, as if he knew this was important. Ana waited for him to swallow, nerves tingling in her hands and feet, but she held out. When he finished, his attention was pointed fully to the brunette.

"Sir, I'm uh, not entirely sure how to go about this," she started, sputtering and stumbling over her words. She was far more confident when she was planning out how to approach him.

"Go ahead," Jackson urged, hazel eyes full of understanding. "Be as blunt as you need."

Ana took a deep breath, "I want to leave," and held it.

Her superior nodded, level headed and serious. "I support that decision."

"You, what?"

"I support it. Go back to that planet."

Disbelief settled in the commander's stomach like a lead weight, holding her feet and body in place. "I'm sorry, you can't be—"

"Ana," Jackson boomed, his tone deep and serious. "You've served your time here for long enough. As much as I hate to see you leave our team, you deserve this."

"I don't know what to say, sir," Anastasia mumbled, her stomach and nerves soothing, "Thank you."

The tall, husky man placed a strong hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly with a friendly smile. "When do you wish to leave?"

The commander couldn't believe this was happening. Her heart, battered and desperate for healing, rejoiced. A new rhythm was founded, steady and consistent. Tattered ligaments and tendons stretched and began the process of reattaching. Bonds were forging stronger than before, now able to withstand the fires of passion and heartbreak longer, much like they had in the past. They knew the process well: muscle memory repairing what a boy had broken years ago, and righting the brunette's more recent decision to destroy herself.

Hope whispered promises of a new life and new memories. It swore to never replace the lives Ana had already met, to remind her consistently what they had inspired in her, what roles they played in her life. The newer people she would share her life with would help with her transition, act as conduits for her benefit.

Fantasies were swirling in the brunette's brain. Bright futures for herself and Eris danced, twirling and pirouetting around endless possibilities. Reveries of raising adopted children, specifically life the boys she had dreamed of, were sprinkled in her head. Dormant desires of motherhood and domesticity were unleashed, a perfect contrast of the woman's life currently, yet their suppression did not contrast their validity.

It had taken years for Anastasia to see herself building any other life than the one she led at the space station. But today, in this very moment, she truly believed it possibly--truly desired to share her life with someone. Intimacy was now a drug, and she gladly became an addict, as long as that prescription was filled by the alien queen she had bonded with.

"Tomorrow, sir," She stuttered, still in disbelief. "And if it's possible, I'd like someone particular to take my place."

The man nodded, eyes lit up with intrigue, "Who?"

Ana stood a little taller, chin out and forcing her tone to be persuasive. "Iliza."

Her declaration wasn't met with any kind of resistance. Jackson didn't ask for justification, though Anastasia was one hundred percent
certain she could assuage his every concern. She trusted the blonde with a lot, having trained and worked with the woman for most of her career.

Iliza was confident, sometimes to a fault. She was bold in attitude and ideas, constantly questioning methods and trying to improve them. The blonde was a natural leader, and Ana's only concern with her being in this position of authority was her ability to juggle various responsibilities and delegate when necessary.

She was known for taking on a lot--stated herself that it kept her motivated, but the job was stressful, as Ana knew full and well. If Iliza wasn't able to delegate tasks to her underlings, she would burn out.

"And all of your confidence is in her?"

"Yes, sir. The only thing I worry about is if she can delegate. She tends to take on too much."

Thick, brown eyebrows furrowed and a pensive look adorned the bald man as he mulled over the criticism. Once again, Ana was ready to defend her choice, but was stopped short. "I trust you," Jackson stated, "and I will be sure to give her the training she needs."

A firm hand reached out and grasped her shoulder, squeezing it in a reassuring manner. "You've been a great asset to us, Anastasia. Get some sleep: you've got a long day ahead of you."

Ana's heart swelled with pure gratitude, threatening to burst at the seams. "Thank you, so much."