A few hours prior to her formal retirement, Fleet Marshal Wanda Wats sat behind a long desk, in her nearly empty Academy office.
Surrounded by old holo disks, well-thumbed textbooks, fleet flimsies and odd collectables, she daydreamed about her successes and failures, friends and colleagues, loves and losses.
Startled by a change in the relative brightness of Gital-Gustol, she quickly drained the last of her tea and stood to look over the accumulation of a lifetime.
