[attr="class","sunshine"]Plank was sure it had to be a joke when she got the message that she was supposed to patrol headquarters. What the fuck else was she supposed to think? Sure she has a bunk on the thing, but she doesn't use it; and the last time she was on the piece of shit submarine it had been on the verge of sinking thanks to some rogue, laser shooting something.

But no, she'd been assured it was not a joke; and that if she didn't show up for her shift it would mean "consequences".

Lately she couldn't help but take those threats a bit more seriously. Hard not to after her one-on-one with their head scientist and the show the organization put on a few weeks back.

So, she met up with an on-loader that afternoon and was underwater by lunch. Figured it was better to be early than late. Unfortunately having a decent meal courtesy of the cafeteria had made her drowsy, and she broke in her bunk with a dinner nap to end all others. When she woke up it was fifteen passed when she was supposed to clock in.

"Son of a bitch," she murmurs to herself as she hops down the hall, pulling the back of her right shoe over her lifted heel as she does so. With a firm stomp she finishes the process before taking off at a light jog.

"Was supposed t' meet up with 'em in the cafeteria so . . ." she continues thinking aloud. Where would her partner (partners?) be at this point in the rotation . . . Ah, there!

"Hey! You my partner for the evenin'!?" Plank shouts to a tip-toeing stranger she assumes to be the rest of the patro, or at least a part of it. Her voice bounces noisily off the metal walls of the hallway, echoing at a volume much too high for whatever time of night it is right now.