Snippet #1793985

CIC
EDF Atlas

Standing over the main tactical display, Elena Ramirez reminded herself of joyful days when she poured herself into a single task and the rest of the world melted away in favor of an absolute concentration creating a singularity of perfection in a moment of focus. Code decryption had been a particular favorite task of hers in the days before the rigors of command demanded that her attention split evenly between at least a dozen tasks at any given time.

“Captain, deck reports Roamer and Blades are back aboard.”

“Who is out on patrol now?”

“That would be…Sunset and Two-Tone, sir. Also, Commander Morrow said he needs to speaking with you personally about his flight report,” the staff officer said.”

“Very well. Inform him I will be in my quarters in a few moments.”

The captain swept her eyes across the CIC for a moment. To most of the crew, the Atlas was a testament to the advances made over the last few years across the rest of the fleet. Compared the flagship Endeavor, the Atlas was damn near antiquated. Hell, the technicians and deck crews were working double time just to integrate all of the equipment sent by other ships just before this one made the trip to the Karas System.

“One of the new auto-loaders on the deck has been malfunctioning,” another staffer reported in short order. “Tore the stabilizer fin completely off one of the service Boomers.”

The report brought about a sigh from the lips of the commanding officer. “Take if off the line and tell them that we’re going to have to do it the old fashioned way for a few days. Inform Colonel Narita and let him remind them of how this Fleet kept its birds in the air before autoloaders.” Both of them shared a half-hidden smile at the thought of unleashing the XO on some unsuspected deck hands.

“Finally, sir, we’ve been getting complaints regarding the ventilation system down in Slum…err…down in the cargo bay housing the civilian population at the moment. The cold isn’t making it any easier on our medical staff to fight some of the illness that is spreading down there at the moment and the restlessness is getting worse.”

Flattening one hand on the tactical display, Ramirez reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. Running a crew and ship with no possibility of support was hard enough with a belly full of malcontent civilians unable to appreciate the severity and importance of the mission facing the ship and everyone forced to accompany it.

“Perhaps it’s high time that I visit these Slums for myself,” she said with a renewed sense of vigor for a moment. It was high time that the Captain involved herself in more than just signing reports in the middle of the CIC. “Inform Commander Morrow that he is to report directly to Colonel Narita. I, on the other hand,” she stopped, allowing her voice to trail off for a moment as she began to scan across the CIC once more.

After a few seconds, her eyes spotted the diminutive frame of Midshipman Dennis Heldane. She’d taken note of him scurrying about the CIC for a while now with whatever he’d been tasked to fix. Keeping up with everything broken on the Atlas was beyond any of time at this point. The ship should have been in dry dock before the Battle of Melchoir and now was being ask to live on in combat conditions. Alone.

“Midshipman,” she spoke with a level and direct tone that wasted no syllable or emphasis unneeded to attract attention and emphasize her point. “It has been brought to my attention that there are a number of guests down below who are unpleased with the amenities we’ve provided. Why don’t you accompany me down below and we’ll see about putting a mints on the pillows?”