ISV Wight
0225 11.01.3026
Dunne Sea, Roberts Leyline
She breathed in the darkness.
Silken sheets caressed her bare skin as her chest rose and fell, and she shivered. Though her eyes were open, there was nothing to see. This was her quiet time. Perhaps she was only gathering her thoughts, or preparing herself for the unknown. But she would never have confessed what she really thought she was doing. In moments like this she would lie there, naked, and feel.
A scram interrupt. She checked her watch. And it’s four in the morning back at CenCom. I’ll be late getting home again.
Captain TK Rook stretched beneath the sheets and at last slipped out of her bed, rising lithely in the darkness. The soft red glow of her handset revealed only her contours, silhouetted against shadows. She stood there, letting the air touch her for a few more breaths, a few more heartbeats, before—still blind in the dark—pulling a shirt on over her head and slipping into her pants. She made up her mind not to cite herself for a breach of dress code at nearly three o’clock in the morning. Her handset beeped, a soft tone accompanied by a flash of green light.
She thumbed the button onscreen. “Yes?”
“Sorry to wake you, captain; there’s been a—” The officer hesitated for a moment, a little confusion in her voice as she realized that she had not, in fact, awakened the captain. “We’ve just had a Scram 2 Interrupt. Reversion in 1:15. Should I patch any communications through to your quarters?”
“No,” said Rook, straightening her hair as she brought up the lights in her room. “If there’s a call, I’ll take it in the conference room.”
“Yes, captain.”
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