So I close my office, er cubicle. I got things back inorder as best I coulod. I did take a moment to straighten up my blanket on what passes for my cot. It wasn't much of a cubicle, but it was my cubicle.   I tried to lock things down as close to standards as I could. After I had lent my moneybelt to Starbuck and sent the paperwork bearing Colonel Tigh's signature to secure locations, there was very little left in my cubicle that wasn't second-hand ships stores.