Free Moonstruck by Susan Grant

and had seemed out of place with the admiral’s taste for clean, uncluttered decor. Hadley had always wondered about the box, and what was inside. It was larger than a container for jewelry, big enough for some items of clothing. She’d once guessed books or dinnerware but now she saw it wasn’t that heavy.
    Her hands slid over the lid’s engraved surface. And stopped. It felt wrong, peeking. Head held high, she carried the box to some shelves by the admiral’s new desk, placing it at the same approximate spot as on the Vengeance. She stepped back, admiring her handiwork. The admiral would be pleased.
    Hadley’s gaze traveled back to the white box. So much about her boss was a mystery. Would it be so wrong to learn a little more about her? In the end, it might help Hadley be a better assistant.
    Biting her lip, she took the box down from the shelf and set it on the desk. Nervously, she glanced at the door. All clear. Then she lifted the lid.
    A small folded blanket lay on top, hiding the contents beneath. It was soft and pink, nothing like a blanket the admiral would use. Cute, chubby marrmice decorated the satin hem all the way around. It was a baby blanket, Hadley realized with a start.
    Heart pounding, unable to stop herself, she lifted the blanket out of the box, even though she knew what she’d stumbled upon was a terrible violation of her commanding officer’s privacy.
    Under the blanket was a bracelet, a silver band. Hadley turned it in her hands. It was engraved. Me and you forever. Seff. There was an old, worn leather volume of the Agran Sakkara, the religious tome that formed the basis of their worship of the goddesses. But the admiral wasn’t a believer…The bible was badly damaged, the cover torn, the pages crushed. Hadley ached to open it and see if anything was written inside, as some families were prone to do. She forced herself not to. It was bad enough she’d opened the white box.
    Only one item remained—something small and wrapped in tissue paper. Fingers shaking, Hadley peeled the sheets away. Two tiny white shoes dropped into the palm of her hand. Tiny confections of utterly feminine satin and lace. Hadley held the fragile shoes cupped in her palm. They were too small to have fit anything but a newborn infant.
    The admiral’s daughter. Hadley gasped. It felt as if a hand had tightened around her throat. There had been a baby. Admiral Bandar’s baby. Why else would you keep a baby’s shoes if it wasn’t your baby? A niece, maybe, but Hadley doubted it. If it was the admiral’s infant, what had happened to it?
    Hadley traced her finger over the engraving on the bracelet. Had it been a gift from the baby’s father? Admiral Bandar’s husband? What happened to them? Why hadn’t the admiral ever mentioned either one?
    A wave of guilt washed over her. These were the admiral’s private things. Hadley never should have seen them.
    Hurriedly, she put everything back in the white box, checking it twice before she closed the lid to make sure everything inside was arranged as she’d found it. She slid the box into place on the shelf, surrounding it with the holo-cubes that always circled it. Backing away, she fumbled for the entry door and her escape. She’d learned secrets she could not share with anyone else.
     
    B RIT’S HANDS GRIPPED each other at the small of her back as she stormed off the lift toward the bridge. She was used to having Hadley in tow. Even Haldran, her former first officer, would lag behind her. Not Rorkken.
    Damned Rorkken. He matched her stride for stride, and without evidence of exertion.
    All Brit wanted to do was retreat to her quarters. She’d ordered Hadley to set up her shipboard suite right away. A mental image of Kin-Kan wine chilling came to her. She’d down the first glass as fast as she could; the rest she’d savor.
    She turned the corner and walked onto the bridge of the galaxy’s newest warship. Her steps slowed as she took in the sweeping command