June 3rd, 2552 Might as well
Guinea Pig/ Part-time mechanic/Canary in search of a coal mine, Kat James Reporting
With all the planning and briefings and debriefings the brass scheduled, the actual jumps were rather anti-climactic. We had to take four jumps of twenty, which was new, but in theory, it was the same as doing one run, just doing it multiple times with enough time in between to breathe, reset and prepare to jump.
I had a hard time putting their coordinates into a jumpable order, but Fipps could do the math. So- we did the first series of jumps, I rested while Fipps calculated out where we needed to head next, Tower would watch the monitor for signs of The Enemy and look more than a little green around the gills.
After the second jump, I needed more time to rest, Fipps was starting to look a little green and Tower was ready for our little jaunt to end… and we were only halfway there.
Third jump left us all more than a little loopy and Fipp’s calculations, were dead on for the fourth jump— they were dead on in the wrong direction. Instead of arriving a day after they sent the message, we arrived the day before.
Of course, I was in no condition to say anything, Tower threw up exiting the Gumbo and Fipps didn’t look like he was going to hold down his lunch— but we got there. Fipps reported in, explained what was going on as they hauled us to medical and began checking us out.
I woke up around dinner time, feeling ravenous and by then Fipps had managed to convince his people that we needed to work something out, and fast.
They tried to get me back in the Gumbo, but I woke up in medical, listening to a heart monitor slowly beep. I figured going back to sleep was a good idea.