Between the artificial lighting on the deck and the space light pouring in through the command bridge viewport, he could see the well-worn exasperation on her face. Not that he looked at the captain for too long; eye-contact under the circumstances made him incredibly uneasy. As she turned her profile became a silhouette and it was easier for him to at least pretend to hold that officer's glare.

"So," she began, arms folding across her chest, "you think you can just waltz aboard the Eidolon an' plant that ass o'yours at the helm?"

Only the ever-present hum of the engines and the barely audible chirps of the consoles rose above the silence as he struggled to find the right words to answer with.

He almost jumped when she growled again. "I asked you a question, boy."

"I-I've three years port-to-port transit experience and eighteen months at the eye of the Nassan-Tau. Recommended by Captain Argen himself, ma'am." As his words tumbled into some form of coherency he handed over his holodoc for her to look at.

She doesn't even look up at him, fingers flicking through the projected pages. "Sir. Not ma'am."

"B-but I thought tha-"

"Don't make me tell you again. I don't care what they teach you Earthlets down in your happy little boot camps but I'm addressed as Sir just like every other officer in the UPC. Sex is no distinction, y'hear?" Mis-matched eyes continue to skim the luminous sentences.

"Yes ma -uh- sir. Yes sir."

"Good lad."

With a flick of a finger the documents blink out before she hands the thing back to the young man. "Let me tell you somethin', kid..."

~~~

Basically me getting things out of my brainmeats whilst practicing my inks and watercolours and generally being an idiot.

Random everythiiiiing.

Ceath came out decent, no idea wtf that plesiosaur-looking thing is, palulukan/thanator down there and a fugly borked up Cey with some writing.

And paint-smushed-turned-into-critters.