Weston watched on his monitors as researchers rushed from lab to lab and console to console as they struggled to shake off the transitional effects and complete their work in the shortest time possible. The rear module entered a state of barely controlled chaos as the military crew stepped back and watched the civilian scientists, half in awe and half in disgust.

Weston oversaw the initial setup of schedules and sensor times, but as he had worked way past his shift without rest, he decided to leave it to his officers and allowed himself to retire and recover from the shock he had not allowed his system to work out. In his quarters, Weston felt his control slip away, and his hands shook as he collapsed on the bed, finally permitting himself to simply let go. Sleep didn’t come easily, but it came.

Chief Corrin growled as she yanked a crewman up by the scruff of his neck, twisting him away from her so he didn’t puke on her polished boots.

“Get to the med-lab!” she growled, shoving him along in front of her. She stayed with him just long enough to flag down another crewman who looked to be in moderately better shape. “Med-lab?”

He nodded.

“Here.” She shoved the still-retching crewman into his arms. “Take him.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Corrin watched them stumble down the hall and steeled her stomach once again, heading into Marine Country to see what kind of mess the groundhogs had done to her bulkheads.

The sound of yelling up ahead caused her to quicken her pace, but the tone made her stop before she came into sight. She curiously glanced around the corner into one of the soldier’s lounges, and her eyes widened at what she saw.

“OH YEAH!” The lieutenant who had asked her for directions earlier was boosting his hands in the air and yelling at the top of his lungs. “I want to go again!”

He grinned as half the men around him laughed openly and the other half glared at him with sickly green faces.

Corrin shook her head and backed out.

They couldn’t give us marines…Noooo…They had to recruit a bunch of Rambo wannabes. Marines are bad enough, but at least I KNOW marines.

“Captain to the bridge! Captain to the bridge!”

Weston was clear of his bed and halfway to the door before his senses focused enough to realize that running around the ship in his underwear probably wouldn’t do much for morale. Well, his morale, anyway. In less than two minutes, he hurried onto the bridge, fastening the last couple buttons on his collar and looking around for the emergency.

“Captain, over here.” Commander Roberts was looking at a display on one of the terminals linked to the research labs below.

“Roberts, I hardly think that a research breakthrough necessitated getting me out of bed. It could have waited until morning.”