Chapter Text
[E.S]
I’ve never been good at sleeping. I’ll admit it. Whether it was the night before a math test in middle school, or basically every night these days, I’ll end up sleeping barely anything. I suppress a
yawn, looking at the time in the corner of my tablet screen; 4:47am. Another sleepless night. I think I’m going on 45 hours without sleep now..?
I send the Email I’ve been writing, and set my tablet onto the nightstand beside me, my eyes shooting to the orange prescription bottle of Daridorexant on the small wooden table. Sure, it's a medication that lets me sleep for more than two hours and not wake up feeling like shit, but I’d really rather not be in a medically induced 8-hour-long sleep too often while on an aircraft carrier which is carrying enough astrophage to vaporize California. The risks of what could happen while I’m knocked out outweigh the benefits of the sleep.
It's almost 5:00am, and some of the ship should be waking up right now, so I stand up – ignoring the way I stumble, my vision blurring – and grab my jacket from my desk. Slipping it on over my sweater, I step out of my room, making sure I have my keys and phone with me as the door locks behind me. First stop; coffee machine in the canteen. I walk through the large ship – some of the rooms I pass already have their lights on, with people shuffling around inside. I let my mind wander as I make my way over to the dining hall.
Let’s see… I’ve got to Email Dimitri about the spin drive testing, ask Dr. Grace for the training reports with the scientists from the flight crew, figure out the details about that conference in Romania this weekend, Dr. Lamai wanted to speak to me about the final coma robot test… oh- and I’ve got to look over that authorization form for the experiment Dubois and Shapiro wanted to do once we get to Baikonur.
I think to myself, listing off some things I’ve got to do off the top of my head. I enter the canteen, looking around to see not many people. Beelining for the coffee machine, I turn it on, noticing how shaky my hands are as I click the buttons. I sigh, feeling the beginning of a headache begin to set in. I grab the now finished coffee pot and pour it into two large paper cups I grabbed from the dispenser. I quickly put the lids on, then begin to make my way back to my room to grab my bag and supplies – as I pass one of the labs, I recognize Dr. Grace standing at one of the tables.
“Dr. Grace.” I say, stepping inside. He’s not usually up this early, typically being part of the 50% of the crew who prefer to start their days at 6am rather than 5.
“Oh- Stratt, what’s up?” He replies, turning around to face me. I take note of the dark circles under his eyes and come to the conclusion that he also didn’t get much sleep last night.
“I still need your training reports from your classes with Shapiro and Dubois.” I explain, taking a sip from my first coffee.
“Good morning to you too, and I will get those to you ASAP. I’ve just got to finish yesterday's and then fill out today's after the lesson.” Dr. Grace nods, rubbing an eye.
I give a hum of agreement, when my phone starts ringing. Excusing myself from the lab, I recognize the number to be one of the organizers for the upcoming conference in Romania.
“Eva Stratt, Petrova Task Force director.” I say into my mobile as I walk back to my room, sipping from my coffee.
“Hello, Ms. Stratt, we’re just calling to confirm the final details about the PTF’s attendance to the ROSA conference this week?” A man’s voice speaks, and I can hear the faint clacking of a keyboard through his microphone.
“Ah yes, I will be attending.” I reply, approaching my door and juggling my coffees in one hand while using my shoulder to hold my phone up to my ear, as my hand shakily rummages through my coat pocket in search of my keys.
“Please list all individuals from the Petrova Task Force who will be attending in-person.” The man chimes.
I finally unlock the entrance after another struggle to get the key in the keyhole.
“It will just be me.” I state bluntly, leaning into the door to push it open, before setting down my coffees and grabbing my phone with my now free hand.
“The conference requires two to four in-person representatives to provide an additional perspective and verify the information presented.”
Shit.
“I will be the only representative of the PTF.” I state a second time, beginning to step around my small room and collect my things.
“Ms. Stratt, at least one other person from the Petrova Task Force must be physically present. It is not up to me, it’s a requirement for this ROSA conference.” The man says with a groan.
“...Ryland Grace. Dr. Ryland Grace will attend the conference with me.”
I hear a murmur of a tired “okay” from the other side of the line, followed by the clicking of more keys and the dragging of a computer mouse against a desk.
“So the physically present representatives of the Petrova Task Force will be Eva Stratt, and Dr. Ryland Grace, – correct?” He asks after a moment's pause.
“Yes.” I grumble with a sigh.
“Anyone who will be logging in over a video ca-”
“Negative, it will just be Dr. Grace and I.” I cut him off, putting my tablet, cable, and my many file folders into my bag – again using my shoulder to keep the phone against my ear.
“Alright, a final confirmation email with more details will be sent to your registered email address in the next few hours or so.” He says, typing again.
“Understood.” I finish, grabbing my phone and hanging up.
I let out a loud groan – holding my head, which is now throbbing. Wonderful. Now I’ve got another email for my growing inbox, and I’ll have to bring Grace to Romania with me. Which means dealing with transportation – so either organizing another jet flight or making sure we have one jet with enough seats, the hotel reservation – change it from a single room to two rooms, and also explain the full three day itinerary to him – not to mention what we’ll even be presenting at the conference itself.
Goddamn it.
Reaching into my desk, I grab the small bottle of Acetaminophen from my drawer out of pure habit – even though they don’t help much for headaches nowadays, and shake a couple pills into the palm of my hand. I swallow them with the last of my first coffee, tossing the empty paper cup into the small plastic trash can beside the door as I swing my bag over my shoulder. I brush off how dizzy this simple action makes me, and exit my room. There's more people in the hallways now – men and women in all sorts of attire walking up and down the long linoleum-floored corridor.
Looking at my watch, I note that I have a meeting with Dr. Lamai and her team about the coma robot soon. I drink from my second coffee, making a sharp turn and barely dodging a collision with a group of Korean physicists. Though the Gansu might seem large, once you’re inside and trying to navigate the halls in the later morning hours, it is noticeably smaller than it may look to be from the outside. I jog up the stairwell, greeting Ilyukhina who passes me on her way to a lesson with some of the engineering team. Dr. Grace has a lesson with DuBois and Shapiro today at 10am, then not much for the next few hours. I make a mental note to find him afterwards and tell him about the conference. Drinking from my coffee, I enter Dr. Lamai’s office.
“Ah, Ms. Stratt, thank you for making time for this meeting.” Dr. Lamai greets me, standing up from her desk.
“Of course, Dr. Lamai. So, what did you need to speak with me about?”