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"Sir, I think there may be a problem with our navigation. It's possible we've gotten off course. I propose we stop and re-evaluate our position. Do I have your support on that?"
"We are on a schedule here, cadet." Chris turns his gaze back to the foliage in front of him, a dismissal.
"We'll be a lot more behind schedule if we get lost, sir. Checking could be worthwhile."
"Are you saying I made a mistake?" Chris challenges, without slowing his pace.
"It's possible, sir," Gaila says evenly, staying in step beside him. "Or maybe your equipment malfunctioned. We can switch to using a backup compass. But we should check our position first. I propose we do that now."
Beside him, Phil's face is perfectly neutral. "What makes you think there's even a problem in the first place?" Chris tries.
"Well," Gaila says, "the tricorder data shows—"
"How do you know it's not the tricorder that's malfunctioning, then?" he asks, trying to sound irritated.
Gaila looks at him a little unsure now. She could be starting to waver. "Colt's showed the same readings, sir."
"Oh, so now you've been whispering behind my back?"
"Yes, sir, we have. Also, Dr'u'zha recognized the smell of an animal burrow we passed half an hour ago. It's the same one we passed this morning." Chris glances over to where Cadet Dr'u'zha's antennae are whizzing agitatedly.
"So why didn't you say something half an hour ago?"
"We're saying something now, sir."
"Fine." Chris finally stops walking and slams his backpack to the ground. He has to fight back a grin. "Check the position."
The other cadets, watching raptly, snap into action.
"Thank you, sir," Gaila says. Then she hesitates, just for a moment. "I would also suggest a nutrient and hydration break at this point," she says, sneaking a tiny glance at Phil.
Chris doesn't want to break character now. He can have Phil sneak her a ration bar or a water tablet once they get moving again, without calling attention.
"For everyone," Gaila continues. "I believe some party members are showing signs of dehydration and low blood sugar."
"So you're a medical expert too now? Hey, Dr. Boyce, what do you think of that?"
"I think she's calling you cranky," Phil deadpans.
"He doesn't smell dehydrated," Dr'u'zha intones blandly from several meters away, where he and Colt are bent studiously over their equipment. Chris suspects a charade for his ego's sake, perhaps Colt's idea, as they make a show of "checking" tricorder evidence that will already be quite conclusive.
Chris crosses his arms in defiance as Gaila reluctantly joins the other cadets with a concerned glance from him to Phil, who is bravely concealing his amusement. Soon, the cadets straighten up, Colt's grip on her tricorder still nervous and tight. It's nearly time to bring this blustery act to a close, but Chris wants to savor it just a little more. "Well then, Captain Gaila," he says with a roll of his eyes. "What's our new heading?"
Gaila beams. Just for a moment, then schools her face and says, "Colt can determine that. She has the strongest orienteering skills here." Then her eyes widen and she hastily adds, "Of all the cadets." And then after another pause, "Sir."
Phil snorts.