Out to the briefing room. Frayne's already there, of course, making something work that probably wasn't broken, but would've been soon. Thank God for that. I couldn't ask for a better Science Officer.

Linaeve strolls in, deep throating a popsicle. I can't hide my irritation, but thankfully, we were taught how to mask our thoughts. I don't want to give her an excuse to make jokes all day.

"A popsicle? For breakfast?" I'm snapping at her. So much for keeping my problems private.

"Yeah, my throat's sore from cryosleep," she says with a rather undignified slurping sound. "Happens sometimes. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Just make sure you eat something more substantial before we leave the ship." Dammit. Now I sound like her mother.

Linaeve looks at me quizzically, then shrugs. Frayne snorts, then coughs. It sounds suspiciously like laughter. I glare at him.

Continue...