Snippet #1795759

Midshipman Dennis Heldane
EDF Atlas CIC

With his equipment packed up and the logger updated, Dennis was just showing himself out the pressure lock. His eyes and mouth softened into a neutral scowl as he put on his best "nothing to see here" face as to avoid any unnecessary eye contact with the rest of the crew. He hastily made his way to the airlock when every action he was engaged in was suddenly arrested by one word.

"Midshipman," the unmistakable voice of captain Ramirez chimed in cold, scientific efficiency from the tactical display.

The title of 'midshipman' was the same as any other rank, rating; just an occupational title. From Dennis's perspective, given his history, it meant so much more than that. 'Midshipman' had become Dennis's identifying title amongst the top brass; seen through the lens of his uniform and not his person, because that person carried too much baggage to form a healthy relationship. Just like the wires and metal Dennis himself worked on, so too was he treated by his superiors as an unfeeling machine.

Yet Dennis certainly felt emotion and right now he felt fear. The captain had an air of authority about here that was unquestionable even amongst the more socially acceptable members of the crew. For the lowly Dennis though Captain Ramirez was more than authority, she was a high tower of judgment and discipline that lorded above him as an alpha lioness asserts power over a pride-less male cub. There was an old Terran saying that Dennis had long ago committed to memory: "there's always a bigger fish". Well on the Atlas, they were all fish, and Ramirez was the kingfisher that circled the waters above them with ever piercing eyes. Eyes that now stared down and clearly through the soul of one Dennis Heldane. The very thought made his right upper lip begin curling into that infamous rictus smile with sharp, jittery twitches. If he didn't fight it now then...

Mind over matter. Dennis silently mouthed. His face transformed into the hardened gaze of a soldier as quickly as it had deformed just a second earlier. He wheeled around to face his commanding officer and saluted smartly. "Yes SIR!" Dennis replied with a tad more force than necessary. It wasn't in spite, he would never raise his tone in anger to a superior. It was something Dennis did for himself, to keep himself from stuttering during periods of extreme stress.

“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 few mints on the pillows?” the captain invited/ordered coolly. Again this sent Dennis into a slight panic. His current billet assigned to him by Chief Wisetale had Dennis slated to fix the airlocks on the lower decks and now the captain herself issued him a conflicting order? It wasn't easy serving two masters with differing agendas, but one must naturally differ to the higher power. Of course Dennis had no idea what the captain had in mind for him to do. He was an ET not a jack of all trades, what was he to do if she assigned him some HVAC job, or logistics, or--god forbid--public relations?

There was an easy answer to this question. Over millennia of military history there was a simple answer to every order. No matter the circumstances, no matter the conflicts, no matter the cost in material or human life, there was one, two word answer to any order. It was the answer that Dennis, like millions of soldiers before him, elected to choose.

"Yes sir."