I Hate Jeffries Tubes!

Posted on Sun Feb 23rd, 2020 @ 9:11pm by Major Kachiko Bayushi

502 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: E1 Only The Beginning
Location: Deck 12, Jeffries Tube Junction 12A-64

Rita grimaced. Her damned ankle hurt like hell and she had been ascending deck by deck for nine decks.

Needing a breather, she'd pulled off at Deck twelve and was now leaning back against the bulkhead, wishing desperately that the throbbing in her right ankle would abate some.

She had received orders just before the ship left dock most recently and had been promised that she would be assigned an agreeable officer, something that would make the lithe Staff Sergeant smile if she weren't so exhausted and hurting.

She had absolutely no idea what the hell had happened to this new ship, the Magellan, so she had started making the trek upwards. Unfortunately, the lift down below was acting unreliably, so she had elected to transit the hated Jeffries Tube.

"I'm a Marine, not a damned monkey!" Rita groused aloud. She realized that it was her own fault, choosing the Tubes over the wonky lift. It wouldn't be any real effort if it weren't for the turnt ankle, a gift from whatever the hell they had hit. She had been thrown a good five or six feet out of the chair she had been sitting and working in, cataloging the contents of the Marine detachment armory.

Also unfortunately, she was the senior noncommissioned officer on board in the detachment. The lone Second Lieutenant seemed to have everything in hand and sent her to find out what was going on. So bum ankle or not, she needed to get topside.

Sitting upright, she readjusted the Compression Rifle slung over her back before getting back into position to get back on the ladder.

Before she took that step out onto a ladder rung, her communicator chirped, "Hernandez, have you made it to the bridge?"

Rita paused a second to rest her face in her right palm, before tapping her communicator, "Negative, Lieutenant. This bum ankle is slowing me down. I expect to be there in fifteen mikes."

"Very well, Staff Sergeant," came the annoyed sounding response. Rita made a face, sincerely hoping that the promised agreeable detachment commander would be arriving soon. This wet-eared Lieutenant was really starting to grate on her nerves.

With that, she stepped out onto the ladder, grimacing again as her bad ankle protested quite loudly. Once situated on the ladder, Rita sighed, 'Here we go again.'

-Bridge-

Twenty long and vigorous minutes later, the port-side Jeffries hatch hissed as it unsealed, the lithe Latina Staff Sergeant crawling out looking the worse for wear, tumbling to the deck and coming up seated.

She looked to the Command seat from her seat on the carpeted deck, "Apologies for the lack of decorum. Staff Sergeant Hernandez reporting for the Second Lieutenant. The Company has deployed several portable communications relays and should allow comms traffic if you readjust your communicators to squawk channel one thirteen mark six two."

"I was also sent to receive orders for the Company?" Rita was gingerly holding her right ankle as she remained planted on her backside.

 

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