Captain Richthofen sat commandingly, in his rigid, uncomfortable seat on the bridge of the destroyer, Genghis Khan, reading notes from a flickering terminal.
He nodded, happy with the quantity of applications... an all time high it seemed. He didn't quite smile, though, he wasn't known for being a happy man. That, and he knew that although quantity was a quality all of its own, he still needed to have each and every applicant vetted.
He looked up, scanning the crew on his command deck. They perspired with effort in the chilly, dark room, lit only by hazard lights and computer monitors, with technical displays, showing a minimum in varieties of colour.
Good, they were working hard, afraid, but not panicking, his disciplinarian streak having not gone overboard, making the men and women onboard into a well-oiled machine, but without pushing them to the point of resenting their Captain. Just as it should be.
He nearly smiled as he went over the details again. This would need consultation with the Commissariat, he mused, taking special note of several very interesting peculiarities in the applicants which they were interviewing.
Unfortunately, he found that a lot of applicants were failing on the first hurdle, not realising that applications were to be made in person. He proceeded to send a missive to relevant parties, authorising interviews and the like with those that had showed an ability to follow instructions so far.