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He couldn’t sleep. He could barely rest. Tomorrow - tomorrow everything changed. Everything. Tomorrow he would be on a starship, responsible for the safety of its crew. He’d be taking on several roles - tactical officer, armoury officer, and head of security. It was a lot of responsibility, and even though he wasn’t there yet, that responsibility was weighing on him just a bit.
He needed to run.
Outside in the cool air, feet pounding along the running trail, he watched his breath puff out before him in short bursts of instantly-dissipating mist, felt the warmth of his sweatpants and hoodie as exertion heated his body, felt his muscles loosen and release their tension as his blood sang through his veins.
He’d miss this, he knew. Running under the stars, in the cool of the night, no sound other than his steady breathing and the rhythm of his feet hitting the ground, now on grass, now on brick, now on hard-packed soil. On the ship there would be a gym, but only a treadmill and recycled air, no stars to be seen, no long routes to be taken, running between flowerbeds, around buildings, alongside quiet ponds, up one side of a hill and down along a path that led through a small copse of tall, slender trees.
Just him, and the night.
But it would all be worth it if he could put his head down and do his best to keep his crew safe. Find his place among the stars.
Up ahead, a light came on, catching his eye. It was some distance away, but his eyesight was keen, as befitted a marksman of his calibre. The light shone from a room on the ground floor; he would pass it on his run, as he re-entered the built-up area where the sleep pods sat in an open rectangle around a large courtyard.
He saw a figure in the centre of the room, moving in an uncoordinated, random fashion. Were they having a seizure? Were they fighting with someone? Good as his eyesight was, he still struggled to make sense of what he was seeing, and put on a burst of speed to draw closer that much quicker, feeling his heart racing and breath coming faster as he exerted himself.
And then he slowed to an easy jog, chuckling, as the figure resolved into that of a dark-haired woman, arms flailing as she writhed and jumped and twirled and shimmied in the most uncoordinated dancing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t hear any music, but she was clearly enjoying herself, if the wide grin on her face was anything to go by. Her eyes were closed, and as he drew closer he could see that she was wearing headphones - probably in deference to the hour - and singing to herself, head bobbing as she shook her shoulders from side to side and pumped her fists above her head.
He grinned at the sight; at least someone was enjoying their last night on Earth before they headed to the ship. He wondered who she was; there weren’t that many women on board Enterprise, at least according to the crew manifest he’d seen in preparation for his duties.
Drawing closer, he couldn’t help but keep watching, amusement and a sort of peaceful contentment bubbling in his chest as the woman danced her heart out. Just as he reached the room, about to pass between the buildings, her eyes snapped open. Dark brown eyes caught his gaze; surprise, embarrassment, resignation, and cheer flashed across her face, in that order; and her grin shone out as she waved both hands at him.
His hand came up automatically and he waved back before he could catch himself. And then he was passing the building, pounding his way along the path to the doorway of his own sleep pod. He found himself grinning as he prepared for bed, thinking of his soon-to-be colleague dancing as though no one was watching, having the time of her life. He’d be responsible for keeping her safe, and he rather thought that might not be too much of a hardship, given her warmth and cheerfulness.
He slept well that night, buoyed by dreams of indistinct but exuberant movement, uncoordinated limbs, and uplifting music; waking with a sense of peace that overtook the worry.
Working on the bridge the next morning, getting his console set up, the captain stopped by his station.
“This is our tactical officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. Lieutenant Reed, meet our communications officer, Ensign Hoshi Sato.”
He looked up into dark brown eyes and, in the back of his mind, heard the faintest strains of music as she smiled.