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A quick check via your neural implant confirmed that the Longinus wasn’t slated to drop out of slipspace for another half an hour. Just enough time to either go to your office and make sure that everything was in order, or to grab something to eat. Your duty to your ship, or to your body. You tossed the idea around in your head for a couple of seconds, before choosing the latter. Your decision making skills would be compromised if you didn’t take care of yourself. And with the first leg of your journey already taking you into space that the Covenant was already aware of, the chances of contact would be up from the word go.
Thankfully, the Able’s dedication to crew comfort extended to the mess halls too. With one of the primary mess halls featuring a neat mix of benches and booths with ample window space. Granted, right now the windows were covered by armored shutters to avoid letting in unwanted radiation from slipstream space, but in realspace the windows would give superb views of the stars beyond.
The food was usually also good in the primary mess hall, where you could expect real cooks to serve real food. But a quick look around told you that you’d arrived in the dead hours between major meals. Thankfully, a pair of automated food and drink dispensers along the side of the wall gave you at least something warm and reasonably edible. You punched in an order for the “breakfast selection”, and snatched the tray as soon as the dispenser was finished, balancing the food and coffee with practiced ease.
“You know, why did I know that you were going to head down here?” Diana asked as you sat down in one of the window booths. Her holographic avatar popping into life on the table, courtesy of a brace of projectors embedded into the ceiling above the booth.
“Is someone looking for me already?” You asked as you unpacked your cutlery. Usually it’d be a disposable pack of eating utensils, but with material shortages, it was just easier to clean and reuse normal metal utensils rather than restocking the disposable kinds.
“We’re less than half an hour away from Arcadia. And <span class="mu-i">this</span> is what’s on your mind?” The small woman crossed her arms and looked up at you with a disappointed expression. Unfortunately for her, that little bit of emotional manipulation wouldn’t work.
“Hey, better to eat now than later.” You pointed at the hologram with your fork, before spearing a piece of fake-sausage and dicing it into chunks.
>Ask Diana about the current situation, is the crew all fine?
>Ask Diana about the mission, have there been any changes?
>Ask Diana about the scuttlebutt, what’s the rumor mill saying?
>Shut up and eat. Diana’s right, you need to be on the bridge.
>Other (write-in)