Too Icky

It was dusk by the time we reached the docks. The last of the sunset reflected of the low clouds, painting the sky orange and pink behind the darkened buildings. The drunken Captain had fallen silent towards the end of the journey and now ambled surprisingly nimbly away and through the sentry post, gathering smiles and nods from the enlisted men controlling the gate.

As a stranger to the base, and uncomfortable in my dress uniform, however, I received sharp salutes, and a polite query as to my destination, followed by swift, accurate directions to the only building where light still leaked from the small windows.

“Ah, Lieutenant! Good to see you.” The gruff, older man behind the desk stuck his hand out and I shook it. “The journey wasn’t too arduous, I trust.”

“No, sir,” I said, ignoring that I’d been awake for thirty hours straight, across four timezones, on three separate planets.

“Good. Well, you’ve been assigned to the Scrotum. Dreadful name, but what can you do? You’ll be second to Captain Bollocks.”

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