She’d never kissed anyone’s mouth, or anyone at all but her little brother after he’d become the only family she’d ever keep. Zana ran the Ijeve pilot and integrate training program with iron will, turning out batch after batch of fleet-ready spaceships and pilots. It didn’t leave time for romance.
“Have you considered—”
“No, Hasu,” she ordered her fellow station head.
“You’ll be lonely,” he suggested quietly. She thought he’d married at some point, had children.
A ship sang in her mind, though anchored, her brother called frequently, and her students and staff filled her days. “I’m not lonely.”0