Caitlin woke to a dim room, her eyes focusing on a blank ceiling. She was naked, but nakedness hadn't bothered her for long when she arrived here, and still didn't, though she herself didn't go skin except to sleep. She slid off her bunk, dropping to the floor of the barracks with a nearly-silent thump.

She knew that she'd gotten good at being quiet when she didn't wake Nataku - Castle slept like the dead, and Spin was sitting doorguard.

The door slid open at her touch, and she hurried to the bathroom - voiding one's bladder and bowels was the best way to wake up, in her opinion. Then she scurried back, and got dressed in silence. It was 0300 exactly when she relieved Spin - surreptitiously shaking him fully awake first, of course.

She sat cross-legged on the metal chair - pre-warmed, fortunately - as Spin crawled into bed. Then she looked over at Nataku, thoughtfully. He was an arrogant son of a bitch, for certain, but he was good at the Game, and, probably, better at manipulating people. He was younger, but she'd learned some of her manipulation skills from him.

Certainly she was better than she had been at six. Trigger had believed her story, that it was just about speed... she wondered whom she'd kicked, but didn't really care.

This was insanity, the keeping of a guard at night, but it made Caitlin feel important - real soldiers guarded their barracks day and night, after all. She felt important in another way, too, since she was responsible for it. One careless - or all-too-careful - act, and her whole toon was shaped.

She understood, now, what Nataku meant about being the power behind the power. Toon leaders were public leaders, serving at their commander's pleasure. But she - not even the toon second! - had dictated a toon policy, and was at no risk of being removed from her position. Oh, she could be moved to a different toon, or even a different army... but this power wouldn't change.

She spent the rest of the hour lost in thought, but not so deeply that she didn't stand as soon as her replacement walked over to the chair. No sense making it seem as if she had been drowsy, much less dozing. She stripped off the uniform, put it back in her locker, and went back to sleep, dreaming of power and leopards that bled sky-blue blood.