Jenn startled awake, her heart thundering in her chest, pulse surging behind her temples. For a long moment, she lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, her night gown drenched in sweat, using the soft hum of the Gagarin’s engines and the faint ozone scent from the environmental systems to ground her.

With a shaking hand, she pushed herself up, eyes darting around the dark room. Light streamed through the windows, leaving dancing shadows on the opposite bulkhead. She was alone in here, yet she was accompanied by the dead, their screams echoing in her ears. The scents of blood, decay, and smoke filled her mind.

She slid out of bed; her knees were weak, and her body felt like it had been dragged across the desert behind a shuttle. Taking a breath, she sucked in, filling her lungs with cool air, yet it felt like there was precious little oxygen in the room at the moment. But she resisted the urge to command the computer to give her an environmental systems report. If there were dangerously low oxygen levels, the computer would have already alerted her.

It’s okay… It’s only in your head, you fool, she told herself.

She paused to stare out into the void of space, but stars twinkled—bright as ever. They were indifferent to the nocturnal horrors of one officer adrift in their midst. But the universe and even the Gagarin didn’t revolve around the needs and wants of this damaged officer, marked by the foul odor of failure.

Sighing, she turned her back on the window. There was no going back to sleep now, and she went to her wardrobe and keyed the locking mechanism on the frame. The door hissed open to reveal a row of black and red officer uniforms. At the end, hung a different uniform with its grey quilted shoulders cuffed in teal. It would have been covered in dust if it weren’t for the near-sterile environment. It was now a size or two too small and several uniform generations out of regulation at this point. She touched it, feeling the familiar wool on her fingertips, before sliding over and removing its neighbor.

She changed into the uniform that was tailored to her body, but still didn’t fit, before shuffling into the bathroom. Over the next few minutes, she cleaned up her makeup, wiping away any smudges. With the eyeliner now perfect, every lash in place, she ran a brush through her blonde hair, pulling it into a neat ponytail.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment, the expression staring back was someone else. The polished and perfect exterior was juxtaposed with the crumbling and messy interior. But the crew needed the exterior, and duty demanded it. There was no place for the inner Jenn on the ship. No room for weakness to be shown. Who would follow an officer to their death if they knew the demons that resided within her mind?

She slipped into her boots and stepped out into the empty, early morning corridor, marching toward the end and heading for the turbolift with her heels thumping softly against the deck plating. An ensign rounded a corner. She looked up from her PADD and made a half step to the right to avoid Jenn.

“Good morning, Commander,” she muttered before returning to her device.

“Ensign.”

Jenn entered the turbolift, stepping inside, she turned to face outward as the hissing doors closed in front of her. She stood for a long moment, letting the hum of systems reverberate through her body, not wanting to interrupt the silence. At last, she commanded the car to take her to the science deck.  If she remained there much longer, she risked having to share the ride with someone.

When the doors opened, she stepped onto the science department deck.  Science wasn’t a ship’s critical department, so the labs weren’t generally manned at this hour. The on-duty science officer was likely on the bridge chatting with his fellow lower deck crewmates. The officer of the watch needed to take care of the ship as she saw fit without Jenn poking her nose into that. These 3rd or 4th shift commands were crucial for young officers to gain the command experience they needed to become the fleet’s next generation of executive officers and captains.

The thought occurred to her that she would never make captain. The reprimand made certain of that. Perhaps it was time she retired. Not run, like the post-court martial impulse had been, but to create an opening for someone who did have a future. She was a roadblock to other promising young officers who did have a future..  She would have to discuss that with Captain Dredd in the near future. Maybe when she got the ship whipped into shape, and her successor prepped, she could shed the uniform and…

Go where?

Tuck tail and return home to Westcliff and live with my brother and his wife? She asked herself. You know, maybe that won’t be so bad. There’s the bunkhouse, and I can stay there until I can join another archaeology team. Yeah, that could work.

A slight smile curled the corner of her mouth as she entered the Xenoanthropology lab.  She hadn’t planned it, but she saw it as a sign that she was making the right decision.  She circled the lab and dropped into one of the research console stations, accessing the Federation Acheology Society’s database and scrolling through the list of current digs, making mental notes of the team leads.  Most she didn’t personally know, but there were a few.