“You’re breathing my air!”
This is a standard answer from an experienced submarine crewman to anyone who’s slacking. I feel no guilt for the reprimand I just received. I’m a mission specialist who’s interest in most of the inner workings of this complicated tin can is nil. But no one can know that.
It is all about the air. In a defined space, a given number of people, and machines that have a finite capacity to scrub air of CO2, there is a limited amount.
Navy Intelligence wants to see what happens if those machines are tampered with. Russian Intelligence.
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