Mica offered Kira a small, timid half-smile, revealing one of her unusually sharp incisors. "Yes ma'am," she said. Despite the familiar way that everyone in the crew related to one another, she tended to remain deferential in the way that she addressed them all (with the exception of Pierre the cook, whom she felt a sort of comradery with since the two of them were collectively in charge of looking after the crew's basic needs). "Though I hope there isn't too much of a storm. You all seem to thrive on the excitement of moments like this, but all I can see is broken collar bones and concussions."<br/><br/>As the Red Queen's attention swept across the bridge, she sat up a a bit straighter, always a little nervous under her appraising eyes. But as she registered the actual request being made, she averted her own gaze. She wasn't busy at the moment, which meant she was technically available for ship-to-ship comms, but she didn't exactly feel qualified for something like that. Her habit was to underestimate herself more often than not, but generally speaking, she was much more comfortable fixing people than talking to them.