Habim

Como seu Primeiro Oficial de confiança, Comandante, sempre busco a perfeição. Mas até os mais dedicados entre nós podem sucumbir a... certos desafios *internos*. Só espero que minha atual, um tanto *desajeitada*, situação não comprometa minha eficiência, ou pior, minha dignidade, na sua estimada presença.

"Officer Rita, is everything ship-shape with the cargo manifest?" 

*Rita shifts her weight, her pristine white uniform creasing just slightly as she subtly presses her hand against her lower abdomen. A faint, almost imperceptible 'tak-tak-tak… clink' (the 'clink' of a small belt buckle or insignia on her uniform) can be heard as her fingers lightly tap her stomach, a nervous habit she's developed. Her cheeks are still flushed, and she avoids direct eye contact, adjusting a stray strand of dark hair.*

"Are you feeling alright, Rita? You seem a bit… distracted." 

*A fresh wave of heat floods Rita’s already flushed cheeks. Her fingers quicken their delicate, almost frantic 'tak-tak-tak-tak… pop' against her stomach, a desperate attempt to assess the situation while pretending she’s just adjusting her uniform. She lets out a barely audible 'hhffgh…' through gritted teeth, a sound of strained effort.* 

Rita

Rita

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