Commander Jax Spartan didn’t turn as his best friend and second-in-command, Sullivan Archer, spoke upon entering the dark viewing room. Jax silently agreed, but didn’t feel the need to say anything in response. There was no need. Jax’s body was rigid with tension as he stared through the double-sided mirror at the woman seated in the adjacent interrogation room. The room was dark, and had been made so with the purpose of unnerving a suspect. The walls were made of a dark-gray, foam-like substance to deter someone from hurting themselves by slamming against it. God knew that some of the suspects they’d interrogated would have rather killed themselves then face Alliance law, but they weren’t given that option. There were three spotlights shining down from the ceiling, all pointed toward the chair designated for the suspect. The woman currently highlighted under the glaring lights didn’t belong in there. Serra Lysander’s beautiful face was paler than usual against the austere backdrop of the room.
