Long thin shadows marked the floor of the living room.
She walked quietly in the darkened room as if her own footsteps would re awaken the dreams that had roused her.
She tiptoed into the kitchen, her kitchen. Mentally it was a hard transition to make this solitary existence.
The apartment was great there was no doubt about it. It had stood vacant for a long time. Not many tenants could afford the rent. But on her salary, with a housing allowance from Starfleet (approved by the CMO himself), she was more than able to swing it.
It was an ancient building, modernized over the years. The kitchen had an old style water spigot with handles that you had to turn to regulate water temperature and flow. There was a marginally useful replicator whose recipes seemed to be limited to coffee and ice cream. The big selling feature had been the stovetop. An actual gas stove with all the old copper pots you could want hanging overhead from black iron hooks. There was even an antique coffeepot that she had no intention of ever actually using.
With a flick of a switch the kitchen was brightly illuminated.
It was one of the first things she had done to the place, most of the apartment was set to manual lighting, just as a small reminder that she was now dirt bound.
She keyed up a cup of coffee from the replicator and sipped it. It was just as bad at 2:30 am as it was at 7:00 am. Maybe she would find some instructions on how to use the coffeepot after all.
She wondered if there was any way to get Uhura to send her a file of replicator programs from Enterprise.
The pantry stood bare with only a few things to eat. She pulled out two slices of bread and a small container of peanut butter.
The brown creamy goo spread easily over the tired white bread. She squished the two slices of bread together and picked up the coffee cup. With a mouth full of bread and peanut butter she tapped the switch to the off position with her elbow and moved to the large sliding door in the living room.
At this time of night the stars and city lights almost gave the impression that you were in space. She stared out at the pinpoints of light focusing her attention on the flickering of the ground cars on the main roads through the city.
She could stand here all night if she wanted.
Of course she could stand here all night even if she didn't want to. She had no one to tell her to go back to bed no real agenda or schedule except her own.
It was so quiet, no hum of the ship beneath her feet, no quiet murmur of voices in the hall outside her quarters. For that matter no quarters.
The lights of the city seemed to make a river of white and gold.
Her apartment was empty and quiet and...cold. It felt lonely.
She didn't want to try to go back to bed. Didn't want to hear the angry sound of her own voice shouting in triumph over the bodies of the dead.
The peanut butter seemed to stick in the back of her throat. She sipped her coffee. The hot liquid soothed the lump in her throat.
Well she thought I'm already awake I should probably get a head start on the day.
She keyed up some Vulcan music and tossed the crust of her sandwich in the refuse chute. As the music began she moved the coffee table out of the way with her foot and took up a solid opening D'vun Kaltor position.
The music was soft enough to not disturb her neighbors but just loud enough to make out the simple rhythms. The room was dark. Perfect for the workout she needed right now.
She moved with careful slow moves, turning stretching and swinging. As she came up into a full handstand she was struck by the sight of her own shadow on the floor.
Long and dark, her feet pointed straight to the ceiling. She could see the light of the city carve her image on the floor to the last detail. She seemed so large, so very solid.
She could see the smooth bulges of muscle in her arms as they supported her weight. She trembled at the effort, but in her mind's eye it was an angry animal that she saw. A looming monstrous figure, trembling with terrifying power and fury.
Abruptly she fell to the floor in a graceless heap. Her shadow taking on a small weak shapeless form.
How pathetic, she thought and the thought was bitter and angry.
She jumped up from the floor and hit the lights muttering something vulgar under her breath.
She might as well just get dressed and head to the medical library. She needed to spend her energy studying not wasting it in this sort of self-pity.
It did not occur to her that the word was one she had learned on a pirate's ship.