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. He showed Armstrong his, then left to find his own. The cabin was small, contained a single bed and a sink. Drawers were built into the bulkheads. Rowan emptied his clothes onto the bed and began tossing them into the drawers.
"So Armstrong doesn't drink and he doesn't play cards," Rowan muttered to himselfi "Just as well. We won't have to include him in our all-nighters. Not a bad sort, though. Just boring."
Captain Bolton came over the ship's comm to announce that they'd be leaving the system in ten minutes. A knock on the door was Armstrong, wondering how to find the washrooms.
"It's known as a 'head' aboard ship," Rowan told him, and advised him to try the end of the corridor.
Armstrong thanked him and left.
Clothes put away, Rowan began to unload his computer equipment. He checked it, repacked it into a backpack cartier, stowed it away. He'd have it out again tonight, checking it again. Before they entered orbit around TISor 13, he'd recheck his equipment a dozen times. Ever since that botched assignment in the Omacron Interior, ruined because some bastard had broken in, removed all his interface cables without his knowing it, Rowan had become obsessive about making certain that whatever went into his pack stayed in his pack.
This completed, he lay down on the bed and realized that he didn't want to get up. He was relaxed, more relaxed than he'd been in a month, and he knew he could sleep-something else he hadn't done for a while
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