Just over two days straight being up. Helena had been in her quarters long enough to change into a clean clothes a couple times and that first night to toss her bag inside. She and Marceau had just finished their card game and she stepped in and smacked the button to close the door. She leaned against the frame and closed her eyes. What was she thinking?! With a sigh she pushed away from the door and stared around the sparse space. It was smaller than her room in officers’ barracks back in San Fran, but star ships had limited space.

Her bunk was to the right of the door, the mattress still bare and the linens and pillow still in a stack on top. Helena didn’t even bother to take her boots off first. If she sat down she would fall asleep. She shrugged her bomber jacket off and hung it from a hook in the locker by the refresher door. Then she lifted her duffel and backpack to the work space - out of the way. She made quick and sloppy work of the bed linens, she could fix it later.

She opened her duffel and pulled out her uniforms - suits, undershirts, shirts, pants, etc and hung them up so they wouldn’t wrinkle. The rest she could launder and iron and make presentable after her next shift if needed. Her backpack contained the personal items she brought with her. She could decorate later. She sat unlaced her boots and toed them off and hiting the lights she rolled into her bunk. She pulled the blanket up over her shoulder, tucking and curling into it and closed her eyes.

Half an hour later she sat up with a huff and flipped on the light. There was no need to lay in bed tossing and turning and staring wide eyed at the dark. She started by making her bunk properly.

Laursen