***
Summers tried for all of thirty-five minutes to sleep.
Her bed just wasn’t soft enough, and she couldn’t get the temperature exactly right. But that wasn’t unusual. The real problem, she knew, was her racing thoughts. She had command now, and that meant many more responsibilities. In the quiet darkness she picked through everything she knew about the ship and tried to plan how she’d restructure it. She wanted to streamline everything so they could catch Raidan as soon as possible. That meant getting to know the crew’s capabilities better.
She toyed around with different configurations, imagining which personnel she’d move where and what the new shifts would look like. But it wasn’t just logistics that kept her awake.
The encounter with Calvin bothered her. She was certain she’d done the right thing. Or, at least, the necessary thing. Everything had come to a head. Calvin had to lose command. And the only way to do that, that she could think of, was to do what she’d done. It hadn’t been her first choice. And it sickened her to think about it. But it was what she’d had to do. And now everything was back on track.
So … why did it still upset her?
After tossing and turning for some time, she sat up and forced thoughts of Calvin out of her head. She dressed herself, deciding if she wasn’t going to sleep, then her time could be better spent in the CO’s office … her office.