INTRODUCTORY EXTRACT

Sara wandered aimlessly through the ship's gardens. The talk with the Commander had shaken her nerves and she needed to find peace of mind in the grass blades of the gravity gardens on the 18th floor of the huge space ship, Anstle.

'Your rank is hanging by a thread, Flint,' the Commanders voice as piercing as his stare as he addressed Junior Commander Sara Flint. ' Leadership in your army is failing and I will not hesitate to pass your duties to another soldier unless you get them to respect you once again. You have one week, Flint. Dismissed.'