Dvorak lay on his back, staring at the underside of Peter's mattress, unable to sleep.
The red-haired engineer had been release from the med-bay recently, and had been sleeping almost non-stop. On the other bunk bed, Gash snored as usual; above him, Kel had taken the previously unoccupied bed. Opposed to the Krogan, the Drell slept with folded hands, not tossing and turning like his bunk-neighbor.
Dvorak rubbed his eyes. He was tired, but unable to sleep. Somehow, his first mission with the Poltergeist had gone from good to shit in the blink of an eye.
He recalled the moment they barged into the cafeteria, how he saw a limp Emmerding, a pinned down Bravo Team, and the tide of howling bodies that tried to kill them.
He rubbed his eyes again, clenched his teeth and pushed back the memory. Moving on, he remembered himself, being trapped in a dark tube with Kajira.
He was relieved she'd forgiven him for not telling her the whole story about his past. Overall was the reaction to his past sins much more warm and welcoming than he'd expected, barring Johnson, of course.
He got up, tossing his blanket to the side. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he dressed himself in the clothes they'd given him when he first arrived, and headed out of the door.
The ship was silent. Even the lighting was dimmer than usual, simulating night-time. Dvorak strolled around the corner, heading for the coffee-machine, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, yawning.
As the cup poured itself, his mind kept coming back to the female Turian which had shown him the way to the ship and had turned out to be his chief. Something about her intrigued him, but he wasn't quite able to put his finger on it. A green light flickered, accompanied by a beep, signaling him that his coffee was ready to drink.
"Can't sleep?" a voice sounded behind him, sub-harmonics swinging gently. He turned around and recognized the tall shape of the very Turian that had occupied his thoughts just now.
"Yeah." He acknowledged monosyllabically, yawning again. "I wish I had Pete's ability to fall asleep on anything."
She chuckled, and his heart beat faster for a moment. Quickly drinking a sip of coffee, he collected his thoughts and formed a question.
"How about you? Can't sleep, either?"
"Didn't even start to." She answered. "I gave the Commander my report on the mission." She hesitated. "I think she's taking it kind of hard."
"Smooth Sailing is something different, that's for sure." He replied, sipping on his coffee and almost scalding his tongue.
That confused her. "Sailing?" she asked, her mandibles fluttering.
"Oh, no, not really sailing. Just a human expression." He tried to explain, losing his cool.
"Ah, of course." She replied, slightly embarrassed. Her mandibles twitched involuntarily again.
There was a pause, a moment of silence. He wanted to say something, but didn't find the words. Quickly taking a sip of coffee to occupy his open mouth, he scalded his tongue again.
"Ouch, shit, damn coffee …" He muttered under his breath, turning away.
Out of reflex, Kajira raised her arm, worried. Mid-way she realized what she was doing and stopped, spluttering a 'You okay?' while awkwardly keeping her hand raised mid-way towards his mouth.
The doors of the elevator opened again, a grim du Pont stepping out. All the warmth in the commander's look he'd seen on his first day was gone. She made her way straight towards the odd pair.
"Sergeant Helfer, Lieutenant Iryn." She greeted while the two recipients snapped a quick salute. "I hope I'm not interrupting something?"
"No, ma'am." Kajira replied. Dvorak looked somewhat misplaced with a coffee mug and sleep in his eyes. He stood straight nonetheless.
"Good, because I've got news."
The Commander had a fire in her eyes that Dvorak had never seen before. A mixture of anger and determination, ready to break loose.
"We got a new mission."