After processing the last group of refugees to the new colony and filing her paperwork on Zhukovsky, she made her way to Kalashnikov's for a drink and a breather. The long day and work had worn on her and it showed.
"Vodka, please," she said to the bartender, "straight up over the rocks."
He set the glass on the counter, "Rough day, Miss Schmidt?"
"Yes, very!" she answered.
He added the ice and then poured the red Coalition Vodka. Once finished, he slid it to her, "there you go, Miss. Just let me know when you are ready for your next one and I'll bring it to you."
She picked up her drink and smiled at him, "Thanks, Sweetie!" and found a table to sit at. For now, there was no one that she knew so she kept quiet, stirring her drink. It was then that she realized just how tired she was. A song began on the jukebox to which she just closed her eyes, rested her head on her clasped hands and rocked it to the rythm. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnyYlmsCrng
For a few minutes anyway, she sat totally relaxed. It had been the first time in days.