Resist the Red Battlenaut by Robert T. Jeschonek

to be cornered by Donna. She'd talked his ear off for fifteen minutes (or was it an hour?), before he'd managed to disengage and resume his march toward oblivion.
    Just then, when he'd been only half a corridor away from bed, a burst of alarms and flashing lights had signaled a shipwide drill. Surging with adrenaline, he'd run to his most recent post--Engineering--and worked with the team there to follow emergency procedures under simulated battle conditions.
    By the time the drill had run its course, two more hours had passed. He'd stayed in Engineering an hour more before he'd finally been able to get the hell out of there and call it a day.
    Now, finally, his billet was dead ahead. He shuffled along the last few meters to the door, made his way inside the darkened room, and found his rack as the door slid shut behind him.
    Unfortunately, he wasn't alone. Just like the night before, Trane and Abby were in their own racks, snoring with abandon.
    For a moment, Scott stood by his bed and listened to the thunderous duet. He hadn't thought it could get any louder than the night before, but it had. Even being as tired as he was, he couldn't imagine sleeping through that racket.
    But if he went another night with little or no sleep, he was going to have a problem. He knew his sleep deprivation limits, and he knew he was hitting the wall right now.
    So his choice was clear. He had to get out of that room. He had to take Donna up on her invitation.
    Yawning, Scott trudged out of the room to a door down the hall and across from his assigned rack room. The door slid open when he approached, revealing another darkened space--thankfully, one without a pair of champion snorers going at it inside.
    When Scott stepped in, the door slid shut. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then he had a look around.
    There were twelve bunk beds in the room, six along each wall, and half the racks were full. Slowly, he walked between them, peering at their contents, searching for Donna.
    He found her at the end of the row, on the top bunk. She was sleeping on her side, facing out, her mouth open slightly.
    Trying not to wake Masada Feinberg, who was sleeping in the rack below her, he slowly climbed two rungs up the ladder at the foot of the bed. Reaching for Donna, he tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
    It took a few tries to get her attention. When she finally opened her eyes and saw him, she instantly broke into a wide, sleepy grin. "Hey," she whispered, reaching over to stroke the top of his hand. "You came!"
    "Trane and Abby are off the charts again," said Scott. "I can sleep through a lot, but those two are ridiculous."
    "Well, there's plenty of room up here." Donna gave his hand a tug.
    "Are you sure about that?" Scott frowned. Her rack didn't look roomy at all; it hadn't been made for two people.
    "Absolutely." Donna slid over, opening up a little space. "We'll make it work."
    Scott hesitated, wondering what he was getting in for. But then he climbed the rest of the way up and rolled into the rack beside her. It was against his better judgment, he wasn't sure he wanted to get involved with anyone on any level...but he needed sleep so badly, he felt like he was ready to pass out.
    "There, see?" Donna snuggled up tight against him and laid her arm across his chest. "Plenty of room."
    Scott nodded and let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Thank you." He looked over at her and smiled. "I'm so tired, I can't see straight."
    "No worries." She let her hand drift slowly over his chest. "I can empathize. I used to have a rack in the same room as those two, and it was like trying to sleep in a Battlenaut factory."
    "It was a tough day," said Scott. "One damn thing after another."
    "Including that crazy surprise armor drill on the Training Deck, right?" Donna laughed softly and batted his chest with her hand.
    "That wasn't so bad." Scott shook his head. "It might even have been the best part of the day, actually."
    "Except this part,"