The Captain Needs Her Beauty Sleep

 The night wore on, the booze flowed, and the giggles turned to screaming laughter. The bar was almost vibrating with the sound of soldiers letting their hair down, blowing off steam on their work victories, losses, and near misses all lost in cheap liquor.

But Rina Hunter? She felt it creeping in the pressure of fatigue. Not the kind that weakened. No, she could hold out for days without failure, had done it before.

 This was different. Fatigue from acting.Role-playing. Wearing a mask.Being normal.

 She glanced at her watch midnight some. Her shift early. Another day. Another mission. Captain first. Hunterrina never.Briggs was mid-story, arms flailing dramatically, reenacting some poor rookie tripping over his own rifle during training. The whole table was in stitches.

Rina shook her head, smirking. "Alright, idiots I'm out. Captain needs her beauty sleep."

A chorus of playful protests erupted:

"Oh, come on, Captain!"

"One more round!"

"You don't need sleep you're a machine!"

 She laughed, standing up and stretching, her joints making faint pops not from age, but from centuries of wear.

"That's right I'm a machine. And machines need maintenance. Y'all keep drinking, I'll be the one dragging your hungover asses to the field tomorrow."

 Briggs downed his glass dramatically. "To Captain Hunter defuser of bombs and keeper of drunk fools!"

The group raised their glasses.

Rina mock-saluted.

"Damn right. Don't get yourself killed while I'm away."

 Emerging into the fresh night air, the city stretched out before her cyber lights shining like stars fallen to earth.

 She breathed deeply. It was other here outside quiet.

Five thousand years. and she was still here.

Tonight, though, she was Rina Hunter alone.

And up to now. it had been sufficient.

Tomorrow, the disguise would resume.