After spending the morning tracking her down, Sinclair found out that Sarah spent a lot of time in the headquarters' gym. He pulled out his scrap of paper and copied off directions onto it, then headed up. The gym was located on the top floor, and was one of 4 rooms on the topmost floor. It could also only be accessed externally for some damn reason, requiring two whole ladders. At least the sun was peaking out from behind the crags that had this valley. The grass and other plants were shedding their morning dew and the haze caught the light beautifully. Sinclair found the changing rooms and swapped to a set of standard issue workout attire. He noted that up here was very empty. A single locker room, a single shower room, a pool, and the gym were all that was up here and the baffling construction of these buildings made it difficult to even find it. Thankfully, now that he was here, determining which room was his destination was simple. Music could be heard spilling from the cracked door, softly. The gym was quieter than Ferdinand expected, a low hum of machinery mixing with the faint echoes of someone’s deliberate, rhythmic footsteps. When he stepped inside, he spotted Sarah near the center of the room, her natural grace on full display as she glided through a sequence of intricate dance steps.

  She was dressed for the occasion, her lean frame clad in a fitted tank top and form-hugging leggings that allowed complete freedom of movement. Both were a deep forest green, altered from fatigues most likely. Her short brown hair was damp from exertion, the messy strands sticking to her forehead. The faint scar along her jawline caught the light with each spin, but it did nothing to detract from her poise.

  A portable holo-display nearby flickered with ghostly figures performing the same routine. Sarah matched their movements with precision, her hazel eyes fixed on the projections. The gym had one wall dominated by windows, although they were partially blocked by metal shutters that were half-drawn. A fan ended up being the source of the humming noise, a very large one in the center of the roof that pulled in air from the outside. The holo-projector was built into the north wall, presumably loaded with hundreds of workout tapes.

  “Commander Sinclair,” she called out, pausing mid-spin with a slight smile. “What brings you here?”

  Ferdinand grinned, adjusting his jacket and stepping forward. “Why, mademoiselle Greene, I heard rumors of a dancer in our midst. Naturally, I had to see this marvel for myself.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes but didn’t hide her amusement. “Graham told me you’d be doing interviews. I figured you’d show up eventually.” She gestured toward the display, her tone casual. “Thought we could talk while I practiced. Unless you’re afraid of tripping over your own feet?”

  “Afraid?” Ferdinand placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Dear girl, I’ve waltzed with nobles and spun circles around smugglers. Lead the way, and I shall endeavor to keep up.”

  Sarah smirked, tossing him a small towel. She restarted the sequence, slowing the pace for him. As the music began, Ferdinand did his best to follow, his movements a bit stiff at first but improving as the rhythm seeped into him.

  “Not bad,” Sarah admitted, watching him out of the corner of her eye. “You’ve got more rhythm than I expected.”

  “Flattery, mon amie,” Sinclair replied, narrowly avoiding a misstep, “will get you everywhere.”

  As they danced, Sinclair subtly shifted the pace, testing Sarah’s reactions. He made a deliberate misstep, cutting a little too close, and she adjusted effortlessly, spinning away with a sharp turn that brought her back into perfect rhythm.

  Sarah's eyes narrowed, her smirk widening. Sinclair put a hand to his heart innocently, matching her steps as the music shifted to a faster tempo, playing it off as a mistake, only to make the same ‘mistake’ again.

  Sarah laughed, a rare and genuine sound. “Dancing’s just like piloting, you know. You’ve got to keep your balance, stay in sync with the rhythm, and react to whatever comes your way.”

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  “And how did you discover this… outlet?” he asked, weaving the question seamlessly into the flow of their movements.

  Sarah’s smile softened, and for a moment, she seemed far away. “After Graham took me in, he was big on making sure I had a life outside the cockpit. I didn’t get it at first—I mean, I’d spent my whole childhood training to fight, to win. What did ‘having a life’ even mean?”

  Sinclair gave her space to continue, keeping the pace steady. She twirled gracefully before returning to face him.

  “It was during a contract on some backwater planet. The locals had this festival, and there were dancers everywhere—moving like nothing else mattered.” Her voice grew quieter, more reflective. “I’d never seen anything like it. They were… free. Just completely in the moment.”

  “And Graham encouraged you to try it?”

  She nodded. “He said I deserved to find something that made me happy, something that was mine. So I started learning, and I haven’t stopped since. It’s like… it’s my way of feeling alive, you know? Not just surviving, but actually living.”

  Sinclair let that hang in the air for a moment before he shifted gears. “And does it help with the team? With Graham? Troy? Marcus?”

  Her steps faltered briefly, but she recovered, her expression guarded. “Graham’s like a father to me, so yeah, it helps. Dancing reminds me he wanted more for me than just being another soldier.” She hesitated, then added, “Troy and Marcus… they’re good guys. Troy’s steady, dependable. Marcus, well, he’s a bit of a showoff, but he’s got your back when it counts.”

  Sinclair nodded thoughtfully. “And what about you, mademoiselle? Do you see yourself as more than just a soldier now?”

  The music slowed, and so did they, their movements becoming less structured, more conversational. Sarah looked him in the eye and smiled faintly. “I’m working on it. Every time I dance, it feels like I’m getting closer.”

  The music shifted again, its rhythm steady but complex, and Sinclair adjusted his movements to match. Sarah followed without hesitation, her steps confident as she began leading the dance.

  “Impressive footwork, Sarah,” Sinclair remarked.”

  Sinclair stepped back, giving Sarah a moment as the next track began, its melody slower, softer—a perfect change in tone. He offered his hand again, this time with less formality, more camaraderie.

  “Shall we, mademoiselle? No questions, just the music.”

  Sarah hesitated, her sharp hazel eyes studying him, then shrugged with a grin. “All right, Sinclair. Let’s see if you can keep up without the interrogation.”

  They fell into step, their movements lighter now, more about feeling the rhythm than proving anything. Sarah’s natural grace guided her, while Sinclair’s theatricality found harmony with her fluidity. The two moved like old friends. For a while, they simply danced. The gym’s harsh fluorescent lights seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the music and the steady cadence of their steps.

  At one point, Sinclair chuckled, breaking the quiet. “You know, Sarah, I think you might have taught me something tonight.”

  She raised an eyebrow but didn’t falter in her movements. “Oh? What’s that?”

  “That even an old warhorse like me can learn to enjoy a little finesse.”

  Sarah laughed softly, spinning away before returning to his side. “Well, I’m glad I could teach you something, Sinclair. But let’s not make a habit of it—don’t want you showing me up in front of the others.”

  “Perish the thought,” he replied, a playful gleam in his eye.

  The music slowed to a gentle close, and they came to a stop, both slightly winded but smiling. Sinclair gave a slight bow, earning a mock curtsy from Sarah.

  “Thank you, Sarah. This was... enlightening.”

  “Anytime, Sinclair. Just don’t let Graham find out you were dancing circles around his kid,” she teased, throwing her towel over her shoulder as she headed for the exit.

  Sinclair watched her go, a thoughtful expression settling on his face. He didn’t say anything, but the faintest smile lingered as the door closed behind her.