"Well, folks, try not to die."
Daniels commented, already halfway to the door when the announcement ended. He didn't bother waiting for a response, already moving down the hall as quickly as possible. When the Colonel's voice resounded in his ear, he switched on his microphone without pausing, rounding the corner on his path. "Already on my way, Colonel. Be there in three minutes, tops."
Reaching the end of the hallway, he grabbed the sides of the ladder, taking a step down. In the interests of speed, he descended a few rungs at a time, controlling his speed with the handholds. Needless to say most of the upper echelon in the Space Force took great pains to dissuade people from doing this, but no one really listened, least of all William. When speed was of the essence, it was the quickest way. His boots hit the deck with a mild clang, and he pivoted on the spot, moving further down the hall. Truthfully, the dining hall was the worst place he could have been when the alert hit. On the opposite end of the ship, and a deck up, crossing the distance was a pain. But extensive practice, mandated by Space Force regulation, went into making sure that key staff could reach their posts in less than five minutes no matter where on the ship they were.
And so it was that Major Daniels reached the cockpit well within his time estimate, sliding into his chair. The controls before him were complex and varied, and to many people, they would have simply looked like gibberish; But to Daniels they were as familiar as can be. He flipped a few switches with the speed and precision born of a habit that had become second nature, the displays before him coming to immediate life. A quick scan of his console granted insight into the status of the Kestrel's weapons. All operable and undamaged, but not yet primed for immediate combat.
"Requesting permission to arm weapons, Colonel." He stated, hands hovering over the controls. "If there are hostiles out there, I'd much rather be fully ready for them."