2100 Hours

Posted on Fri Mar 26th, 2021 @ 1:50am by Lieutenant Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell

Mission: *CD*
Location: USS Liberty
Timeline: 2100 Hours - Duh

2100 Hours.

She yawned, mentally tired from perusing codes and update algorithms, setting schedules and prepping contingencies just in case. Clock read 2100, zero hour. There was no magic green button to initiate the upgrade. Nope, this upgrade was an automation initiated by Starfleet Command. 10 seconds passed, then 20. At 33 seconds, almost an eternity, the screen in front of her went dark and then began filling with code, the code.

The code filled the screen for all of two minutes. It was rather slow considering the bandwidth and processing power. She attributed it to the length of the update and the distance it had to travel from Command. Once the two minutes elapsed, the console rebooted and came back to its normal screen.

She blinked away the sleep sand, leaned in and ran a few minor tests to make sure everything was as it should be. The controls were smooth, responsive and the new color palette was crisp and refined. She allowed herself to be impressed slightly as the doors opened and her shift replacement entered, only three minutes late for his shift. She gave him an eyeful while clenching her jaws.

“Arturo.” Standing, she moved away from her console. “The update proceeded without incident. So far everything is right as rain.”

He smirked, “Never really cared for rain.”

“That’s right, your people came from a rather wet environment didn’t they?”

“Moist, yes. That is one way to put it.” He shifted, “Anything else?”

“Nope. I’m off to bed. I’m sure if shit hits the fan, you’re prepared for the fallout?”

He flopped into the chair and put his feet up onto the console, a PADD in his hand for personal distraction. “Yeah, no problem, I’ve got this. Go. Enjoy your bed and don’t let those sheets kill you in the night.”

She puckered her lips, and flicked her tongue making a sound, “Never at night, only in the morning.” She hated that he was so smug and that he practically got away with being lazy when there was clearly work to be done.

It wasn’t exactly jealousy, but it was a close second. “Good night.” She turned on her heel and left the computer core in the hands of someone she considered an equal, yet incompetent slacker. He was the type who put their profession to shame.

As she disrobed for the night she rubbed the yam cream upon her wrist. It had stopped hurting a day or so ago, but she enjoyed the smell and hated to see the rest go to waste, as it was a gift. She then flopped into her bed, missing her friends Sapphire and Anna, opting to read herself to sleep. Dealing with a computer all day, tonight she drifted off to the tales of a dragon dog, a lost princess, a mysterious darkness and a boy named Atreyu.

Sleep took her less than a half hour later, blissfully unaware that her inbox was currently starting to feel the beginning trickles of a flood yet to come.

TBC