When the second half of the storm barrelled into the area, the ship was rocked back and forth for a while, and the winds were super fast. Those winds also led to debris slamming against the hull of the ship, but barely dented the spacecraft as it was made of some very tough material and could handle hits way harder than what this storm could toss. Rogers was able to make himself a little more comfortable during the second half of the storm, unlike the first half which he was knocked unconscious for. He used the replicator to simulate some decent food, keeping the natural stuff in supply in case the shit lost power. Standard procedure was to use the tech as long as you could to make sure natural supplies were kept safe. Rogers also ordered simple things as to not push the machine or use up too much power placing orders.

     O'Brien was watching the storm through the window, watching nature on this planet destroy whatever wasn't nailed to the ground.

     "It's just a storm," Rogers said, nibbling on the soup he had the machine make up. "It still would have happened even if we didn't crash here first."

     "That's not comforting," O'Brien said, not even looking at her Captain. "We should use what we can to help anyone out there who might need it!"

     "We don't even know if this planet or moon is even inhabited!" Rogers corrected her, as her attitude was starting to get on his last nerve. "Unless someone comes up and knocks on our door we have no idea what's out there or might need help. So zip it, private!"

     O'Brien finally looked back and nodded, "Yes, Captain."

     "I never said we couldn't help anyone," Rogers corrected her, "But that doesn't mean we risk our lives looking for something or someone who might not even be out there. So unless something shows up on radar, or as I said, just knocks on our hull... we stay put until the storm passes or we get rescued, which ever comes first."

     "What makes you think someone will be looking for us so soon?" O'Brien asked.

     "Anders," Rogers said, sitting back down to eat his chow, "The moment he realizes were late, which I never am, he'll try to use this to get back at me for what happened earlier so he can bust me down a few pegs. He'll look, but for the wrong reasons."

     "You don't sound worried about that," O'Brien observed.

     "Once he files a missing report," Rogers continued, "That's when Benny will get involved. He's got the pull to double or triple our search party and take over it himself. That will piss Anders off but he'll have no choice and you know why."

     "So, you think Ben will come for us?" O'Brien asked.

     "I don't think," Rogers replied, "I know he will. Benny is a team player and he treats everyone in his command like they're family. He'd take a bullet for us, and wake up the entire fleet if one of his own went missing. So sit tight and wait for the Commander to make his big entrance."

     "What if someone else comes instead?" O'Brien continued to inquire.

     "We be as friendly as we can," Rogers answered, "And keep waiting for Benny. As long as we stay alive, he'll eventually show up and save the day. That's just how the lad rolls."

     "What is he, a space cowboy?" O'Brien asked with a smirk on her face.

     "More like a space gunslinger," Rogers told her, "Never piss the man off because he can draw his pistol and shoot you out of your boots before you even get your hands on your grip."

     "No one is that quick," O'Brien said, showing her doubts.

     "I used to think like you," Rogers admitted, "Until I saw it with my own eyes. That man is the fastest draw in this galaxy, possibly the entire universe. For some reason he can feel when you're about to draw and just instinctively beats you to it. It's like he can read it all over your face. It's unnatural."

     "That explains why he isn't afraid of the techless colonies." O'Brien added.

     "Exactly," Rogers agreed, "To Benny a week in the techless colony is like a vacation to him. The commander actually has fun out there and it's why he volunteers to represent the Patrol out there every time. It's another reason why he's so popular: the men and women look up to him because he's not afraid to do some of the grunt work and lead by example."

     "That is a true leader," O'Brien concurred, "Someone who leads the charge rather than giving orders from behind the army. The fact that he also happens to be dashingly handsome doesn't hurt either."

     "I had a feeling he'd do well," Rogers admitted, "I had that feeling when he was training with me years ago. I knew he'd climb the ranks and be someone who made a difference."

     "You make a difference too," O'Brien said, "Don't sell yourself short."

     "I have made a difference, but that was a long time ago," Rogers said, putting down his empty bowl. "But today I still do by training the grunts that no one else wants and turning them into fine officers of the patrol. I take that lump of coal, and turn them into diamonds."

     "I'm a lump of coal?" O'Brien repeated, shrugging it off. "I've been called worse."

     "Considering where you're from, I believe you." Rogers said, "But I also take the trainees that others are too ignorant to give a chance, especially when I see so much potential."

     "You think I have potential to be great?" O'Brien again repeated. 

     "You do," Rogers said, "You have the potential to be just like Amanda or Benny. I see a lot of both of them in you, rookie. In other words I see you becoming another gutsy Patroller that will annoy the crap out of Anders but always gets the job done."

     "That's the nicest thing you ever said to me," O'Brien replied, feeling touched.

     She turned back to the window and continued to watch the storm, while Rogers chose to lay down on a pillow and just relax. He fell asleep moments later while his rookie keep watch to make sure there were no unexpected visitors. There were none for the remainder of the storm which lasted until the next morning.