I slept poorly and arose far too early again. It was becoming a bad habit, but it likely wouldn’t get better until my team and I were safely back in Fed space. Then I would sleep for a week and forget I’d ever met General Torran Fletcher.

A breakfast tray was waiting outside my door, topped by a beautiful envelope with my name written on it in the same strong hand that had written yesterday’s note.

I stepped over it without stopping.

In the kitchen, I fed Luna the food I’d brought for her. Once she started eating, I made my way to the gym. I felt an urgent need to punch something.

Unfortunately, the gym wasn’t empty. Torran and Varro were sparring. I averted my eyes and steeled my spine. I wasn’t a coward, so I wouldn’t run like one. The two of them weren’t using the punching bag, and they were far enough away that I wouldn’t interrupt them.

Since I didn’t know how to use any of the other equipment, it was either boxing or dynamic stretching. I probably should do some fluid, meditative stretches to recenter myself, but I felt like some old-fashioned violence.

I wrapped my knuckles with the wraps I’d brought with me, then did a few minutes of warm-up. The first punch connected hard and sent a satisfying jolt up my arm. I fell into the rhythm, dodging and weaving to avoid imaginary blows.

By the time Eli appeared behind the bag to stabilize it, I’d worked up a sweat and my lungs were heaving like bellows.

“You done?”

I could barely hear him over the sound of my own breathing. But if I quit, then I had to face the rest of the day. “Five more minutes.”

“You want to beat on a live target instead?”

I stopped long enough to look him up and down. Eli wasn’t the least bit sweaty, which meant he hadn’t even started his workout, and my arms felt like lead weights. He outclassed me on my best day and today was far from that. “No, thanks. I’m not volunteering to be your punching bag.”

“Spoilsport.” He grinned at me, but under the grin, I could see the concern lurking in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Go beat up someone else.”

His gaze cut to the two Valoffs sparring nearby. “I would, gladly, but I don’t think you’d let me.”

“You’d be surprised,” I muttered.

Eli barked out a laugh. “Just say the word, Captain.”

I pressed my lips together and spent five minutes trying to drive the bag through Eli’s grip. It didn’t work, and my arms felt like wobbly pudding by the time I was done.

Eli shook his head. “You’re going to feel that tomorrow.”

I bent over and shook out my arms. “I feel it today.”