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It was late, but the door slid open at her arrival. “Admiral.”
“What are you doing here, Philippa?”
Philippa smiled innocently. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Katrina didn’t move.
“Oh, come on now, Admiral, where’s your hospitality? Would you turn away an… an old friend?”
Katrina’s lip twitched. “What are you doing here, really?”
“I’ve been given a mission.” She flashed her the black badge, but Katrina ignored it.
“I know, I recommended you for it,” she grumbled. “Which is why I know you should have left by now.”
Philippa just smiled, waiting.
“Fine. Come in. Your highness.”
Philippa stepped forward, eyes taking in the room. The quarters looked more like a hotel room than a home. Nice, but without personal affects or any personality. The art was pleasant but bland and forgettable. Philippa hated it.
“How can you live here?”
Katrina shook her head. “I’m sorry if it’s not as lavish as your imperial palace must have been.” She moved to a cabinet in the wall and began to pour a glass of amber liquid. She took a sip, eyes closing appreciatively for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she looked over at Philippa. “Want one?”
The scotch was surprisingly good, but Philippa would never admit it.
“Is it hard?”
Philippa looked up from her drink in surprise.
“What are you talking about?”
“Being her. All the time.”
It felt odd to acknowledge it so plainly. Who she really was. Who she wasn’t. There was something surprisingly comforting in the simple acknowledgment of it.
It’s so hard.
Philippa shook her head. “Being in this boring, flaccid universe is hard. Drinking your shitty liquor.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I can handle the rest.”
“Of course,” Katrina agreed noncommittally. Then, “Why are you here, Philippa?”
I’m lonely.
The smile Philippa gave her had been downright predatory. But something had flashed in Katrina’s eyes as well, and she’d seized her opportunity. Katrina’s mouth tasted of the scotch, warm and smoky, but it was so much more intoxicating.
“This is what you want?” Katrina breathed.
“I want you to take that stupid uniform off.”
She laughed and Phillipa felt an unexpected warmth spreading in her chest.
They stumbled towards the bed, clothes falling away with their steps. When Katrina came, Philippa’s fingers inside her, screaming “Fuck, Philippa!” she knew that Katrina was screaming her name and no one else’s.