I daydream about King and me. He’ll be a commander some day. I’ll be high up in the ESE Emissary Unit, maybe even lead a few first contacts. Daz will long be back from wherever he is, safe and sound. The déjà vu comes out of nowhere, probably hidden by the pang of anxiety I was having over the thought, How will Daz feel about me being with his best friend? I find myself thinking, I’ve walked down this corridor in the women’s quarter before, thinking this exact thing (for the record, both times I suspect Daz will be pissed about King and me). Only as I pass a door to someone’s pod, there!, a vision unfolds. A man’s coming out of a pod. In the split second it takes me to get over the weirdness of a man being here, in the women’s quarters, my brain registers it’s Lt. Lazarus. He’s his usual disheveled self, but something’s off-kilter. I stop mid-stride, it’s so real I fear he might see me. He glances both ways before darting out of the room and disappearing from view.
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