Eviea stretched her arms as she shuffled across the living space of her quarters, in search of a hot drink before turning in. Now clad in a wrap-type skirt, a vest top in standard issue gray, topped by a dark green with multi-coloured hummingbird prints, long, cotton, robe. She had spent some time working on her fitness in company with the ship’s engineer, the fitness nut of the senior staff, her aim to be in a position not just to keep up, but to lead even if the situation at hand was physically demanding. For now her most pressing physical demand was rest.  

She was about three quarters of the way to her sleeping area, and managed to get out “Computer, lights.” Before she was plunged into darkness, which brought her to an almost complete halt, then her feet lifted off the floor. 

Her head had already gone to the technical hitch explanation, and was starting to grapple with what to do about the weightlessness, more importantly what position she wanted to be in if gravity suddenly came back on. Thankfully it seemed she still had a little forward momentum, and to further that end, she decided a swimming motion might be in order. So in total backness and relying totally on muscle memory of layouts, Eviea began to paddle, knees slightly bent to absorb sudden drops. 

Then the gravity came back. The bent knees helped a little, but it was never going to be graceful. Three and half heavy steps and a rather solid connection with a door jam, particularly on her shoulder and stomach prompting a pause as Eviea caught her breath.

Merrova to Bridge.

The lack of computer activity, never mind response, prompted a change in purpose. Find out what was wrong. She wasn’t going to do that from inside her quarters. Grabbing the workout pants, still on the back of a chair, shedding her robe onto said chair, ducking back into the sleeping area to grab the away party jacket from its hanging place. Emergency equipment was next, tricorder, wrist mounted torch, mag-depolarizer to deal with the countless unmoving doors between her and the objective. The bridge.

Door number one, her own quarters door. 

Mag-depolarizer placed. Activated. 

Lever door open. 

Out into the corridor. The red lighting and the shadows combined so the familiar becomes   unfamiliar, something to be wary of, something to rectify in short order. Turning she directed her steps to the nearest crawlspace access, Jeffries Tubes were going to see more than usual traffic over the next hour or so Eviea considered.