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Eve wondered something.  Why hadn't she been asked on the away mission?  She had had several minutes to ponder that question... and with Eve's rapid thought process, that was a lot of time.

First, this captain knew nothing of her.  She was an untested commodity in his eyes.  If Skye was still in charge... or if Wayne was leading the mission, maybe.  But they weren't.

Second, she knew the bare minimum about this time period.  Granted, she could rattle off anything you wanted to know that pertained to music or professional wrestling.  Somehow, she doubted that would be sufficient.

Third, this was a most unusual period in human development.  They barely grasped the concept of "personal space".  Privacy, something Bartokians treasured in the same way a Ferengi looked at latinum, was hardly even given a second thought.  Especially here and now, after the terrorist assault on the United States.  Eve wasn't sure she had advanced socially enough to take what might be waiting down there.

So... with her thought process finished, she finally decided one thing - for some reason, Captain April had not removed her from command.  He had the opportunity.  He could have done it easily.  But he didn't.  And his comment, "Maybe you're in the wrong branch..."  Captains, in Eve's experience, rarely gave out undue praise.  Captain April wanted Eve on the bridge.  And Eve had learned early to trust a captain's judgment.

With that mental discussion wrapped up, she turned her attention to more pressing matters.

"Lieutenant Malia."

A voice came over the comm system.  "Yes, ma'am?"

"What is the status on the computer systems?"

A heavy sigh.  "We're working on it, ma'am... but it's a madhouse down here.  There is so much going wrong, we barely know where to start."

"Keep me posted, Lieutenant."