A lot of communication from command was never a good thing. You would think it would be a good thing, given the fact that you're orbiting a giant fireball millions of miles from home. But for any ship provided by Goddard Futuristics, it was never a good thing.
Even more of a bad thing is when it is a live communication.
Somehow even worse is when it is a live communication from Marcus Cutter.
And yet, that was exactly what Officer Lambert was looking at. A pending transmission waiting to be accepted.
(3rd Person, @goddard-communications )
Wringing his hands and muttering to himself, Lambert accepted the live communication, adjusting the many knobs and dials as he felt necessary to be able to hear and speak with Mr. Cutter well.
He had been conducting the D.S.A.L.S. as per usual; alone, and after he had finished whatever tasks Captain Lovelace saw fit to assign him on top of his other responsibilities. But now, here it was, plain as day: a request to communicate from one Marcus Cutter, who might be the most terrifying man Lambert had ever met.
Then, a thought struck him. Maybe this was in response to his reports. The ones he had been dutifully writing about Captain Lovelace and the rest of the crew whenever they began to slip into disobedience. He didn't think his crew was a bad sort (mostly), but they all had a tendency to make little mistakes here and there. And little mistakes often led to bigger mistakes, which is how you end up dead.
Feeling much more confident now, Lambert resettled his headphones and prepared himself for what he was now sure could only be an assurance and praise of his standards.
