[h1]Albert Hartwig[/h1]

What in the actual fuck was going on right now.

Albert was staring at the datapad, reviewing the information and briefing forwarded to him before the debrief proper by.....mostly sympathetic individuals who had caught wind of what was coming. Religious canticles, mindless preaching, the absurdity of redundancies and half mythological ramblings that could only be described as stark raving mad. Albert did not hold religion in a high regard, now normally he had no care for the belief of others, they could believe what they want as long as they left him out of it. He was no longer being left out of it, and that made an already exhausted, irritable, and overworked man even more exhausted, somehow more irritable, and if he was forced to acknowledge a fraction of this? He would [i]never[/i] get anything done again in a timely manner. The fact he was now stuck sitting in a debrief, having some zealot berate him for necessary work was not the correct choice on their parts.

Methodically breaking down the complaints and accusations, Albert considered them one step at a time. Contempt for a Lockheed-Raytheon engine? Sure, not wrong, but that was not the issue at hand apparently. His preference of boron-carbide tools was apparently, alongside the lack of holy canticles, was a dire breach of trust and faith. Accusation of not using proper procedure when maintaining and working on the Indomitus as applicable, and whether or not he even deserved thanks for barely satisfactory work. He could feel the vein in his temple beginning to pulse, though he bided his time to let the half cyborg continue digging deeper into pissing him off for all the wrong reasons.

The bitch, sorry, beatitude Tyche Comstar decided to chime in finally, though that was relative since, well, her voice was purely synthetic. More cybernetic hyper religious nonsense, declaring that military necessity could allow leeway, something something bringing the sector into the arms of mother Earth, ancient corporate rites, Comstar holy lands, more and more yammering. The demand that her goons accompany him when dealing with anything related to natives or their technology got a loud scoff from Albert, just after she apparently intended to leave nothing to argue. A sane, well rested person might have ignored that, but Albert was exhausted and notoriously lacking in brain to mouth filter. Even as the Captain turned to other matters, Albert tossed the datapad on the table and leaned forward, elbows resting on the table.

[color=lightblue]"So, speaking with all [i]due[/i] respect, having reviewed the 'canticles' and [i]improper[/i] use of procedure and operation as per holy doctrine? If I had wasted my damn time with a fraction of that not only would I not be sitting here, but the Percheron would not be out there anymore, its crew would be irradiated to the point of death in minutes, or voided from the reactor going super critical and detonating. Not only that, but the away team would be gone as well, a critical blow to operations of the Indomitus. Never mind the complications of having a ship scale reactor turning into a dirty bomb that close to operations when the void of space is notoriously poor at blocking particles."[/color]

Albert's glare had not left Tyche Comstar, even as he tapped the datapad and continued, his notorious lack of filter on full display for all to see.

[color=lightblue]"As for the Indomitus, to meet the timetables put forward, I carried out repairs, optimization, and streamlining as appropriate for us to make it here on schedule. A schedule that, I might add, led to the intercept of pirates and prevention of the loss of the convoy in total. As much as I [i]adore[/i] procedure and mumbling about red tape, I'm not here to cushion egos or pay lip service to religion. I am here to get a damn job done, with too little resources and too many requests. The Lance alone should be holding my twenty four seven attention, which it isn't, so unless your retinue knows how to be seen and not heard? Keep them the hell out of my personal space because I am not going to let religious grandstanding get in the way of my [i]job[/i]."[/color]

Albert sat back in his seat, picking up the datapad and making it a deliberate point to wipe it of the religious nuttery that had been forwarded to him. He would not be found mumbling holy canticles over any of the Lance's Cores when they need to have launched for a sortie five minutes ago. Almost as an afterthought, scrolling through his to do list, he finished his interruption of the meeting. Maybe they would learn to not invite him to these damn things now.

[color=lightblue]"Oh, and my tools are designed to not spark and be neutral when interacting with as many materials as possible. Titanium-steel is pointlessly expensive for no significant advantages. Now where is my coffee mug...."[/color]