The Gunnery Officer was sipping on a large coffee mug full of "Navy Brew" tea with his feet up on his console and his prized 'good luck' naval officer's cap tilted back on his head. "Well, I'd say that there were mysterious doings underfoot." he remarked. "And that furthermore, there be something rotten in the state of Denmark about all this. Sending a mining fleet to an inhabited world and running roughshod over the locals?" he shook his head. "We shouldn't stand aside when something like that occurs." His accent had wandered the length and breadth of the British Isles as he'd spoken, starting from London, before heading up to Yorkshire, across to Manchester, and then down and ending up in Wales.