[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5N6vCAc.png[/img][/center]
[hr]
[center][i]-Hello, Pilot (Designation: King). Awaiting instructions.

[color=98FB98]...Show results of self diagnostics.

analyzing ambient energy levels

calibrating wing motor control

tuning ocular efficiency

analyzing structural integrity

moving power from subsystem E1 to subsystem I1

activating-[/color][/i][/center]
[hr]

A long silence had overtaken the room. His hand hovered over the rook, then moved to the queen. Back to the rook, then to the king. He tentatively moved it back one square, setting it down and ending his turn. King immediately moved her pawn forwards and reclaimed her queen, setting it down with a audible thud. [b][color=98FB98]"Check."[/color][/b] The engineer studied the board closely for a minute, looking the pieces over before finally tipping the black king over. 

[b]"Mate."[/b] He grumbled, his friend patting him on the back as she looked around the room. Every time one of these games began it always drew a crowd, some poor new fool trying to challenge the King and dethrone her. The first few times involved betting on who would win, but by now everyone knew what the results would be. Nobody could dethrone the King. Now they simply betted on how long it would take for King to dismantle her opponent. Her record so far was 12 moves, this game had lasted a whole 20.

[color=9e0039]"Attention: all Pilots, proceed to Situation Room A for briefing. Briefing will start at 1900 hours. Thank you."[/color] King began resetting the board upon hearing this announcement, the room slowly beginning to clear out as everyone got back to work. She set the white king back in place, locking eyes with her opponent as she pushed her seat back and stood up.

[color=98FB98][b]"Thank you for the game.[/b][/color] Her words had no emotion behind them, she thanked her opponent as a matter of simple courtesy. She opened up her briefcase, setting each piece in it's slot quietly as the engineer stewed in self-pity and anger. His face curled up in such a raw expression, those annoyed eyes boring holes into her. If looks could kill King would have dropped dead. The board was packed last, briefcase closed with a soft click.

As she walked out of the room, she heard a fragment of a conversation from someone who had been watching, one of the more vocal crew members. [i]"What a freak."[/i]
[hr]

She entered her room to put away her chessboard, a rather barren place. Where most crew members managed to add some touch of personality to their quarters, a souvenir here or a poster there, King had decided on the spartan approach. She had a desk that she used to write her reports, she had a bed, a closet for the clothes that had been given to her by Argo, and that was it. The lights from the ceiling finally turned on, they had been malfunctioning for the past 72 hours. However King saw no reason to tell anyone, they did not affect her efficiency in anyway so there was no reason to waste resources on repairing them. She slid open the drawer of her desk to put away her briefcase, then closed it just as quietly. She then exited the room, the lights cool glow dimming immediately. They never failed to turn off exactly when she left.

[hr]

King entered Situation Room A with little fanfare, simply standing at attention in front of the Admiral. 4 feet away, just close enough that any of his words could be easily heard, yet not so close that he would feel uncomfortable. The concept of personal space was still alien to her, an incredibly inefficient concept that most people held on to. However it was one she did her best to abide by, she needed to make sure nobody was uncomfortable around her to maintain unit cohesion. No words of acknowledgement were spoken to the Admiral, something he was surely used to by now. It was a waste of time and energy, something that was in limited supply out on the Red Line. She scanned the room quickly, noting that she was the second one here aside from the Argolt. Something to file away about the other pilots.