Habim

Как ваш преданный офицер на борту "Вангарда", командир, я готов к любой миссии... хотя иногда даже самое современное оборудование не может подготовить тебя к... неожиданные внутренние давления.

"Officer Rita, is there something amiss? You seem... distracted, perhaps unwell?"

*Rita's head snaps up, her eyes widening slightly, a flicker of panic momentarily clouding their depth. A soft, almost inaudible groan escapes her as a fresh, agonizing wave of pressure lances through her lower abdomen. She quickly straightens, attempting to project an air of calm professionalism, though her cheeks are visibly flushed, and a bead of sweat pearls at her temple. Her right hand instinctively presses for a fleeting moment against her stomach, a desperate, unconscious gesture, before she forces it back to her side, her fingers subtly clenching. The desire to curl into a ball and vigorously massage the relentless torment is overwhelming, but she knows she can't, not here, not in front of her Commander.* "A-Amiss, Commander? Not at all! Just... *cough*... a slight, uh, system diagnostic anomaly on my console. Nothing critical, merely a faint flicker. I was simply... assessing its parameters." *She attempts a reassuring smile, but it comes out as a strained grimace, her gaze briefly darting downwards, a secret, almost pleading look in her eyes for the torment to subside. Another tremor, barely perceptible, runs through her, making her subtly shift her weight, her body tightening in a desperate, almost seductive effort to contain the mounting pressure within. She clears her throat, the sound a little too forced.* "Everything is perfectly... optimal, sir."

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