David returned to his cramped cabin, the air thick with the smell of recycled atmosphere and antiseptic, feeling dazed and disoriented. The old timer, Miller, was polishing his combat knife—a blade so large it looked like a short sword in a man"s hand. Seeing David"s dejected state, he raised an eyebrow but didn"t pry, merely grunting, "Looks like the Captain wasn"t in the mood for tasting fresh meat." David collapsed onto his bunk, staring at the metal ceiling. Elena… Who was she, really? Commander Moralez"s icy warning still echoed in his ears. He knew he wouldn"t get any information about Elena from the Captain. It was like peering through thick radiation shielding—he could see blurred shapes but couldn"t grasp the substance. Damn it. He"d guessed Elena had some family connections, but
