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SD242001.11 - Joint Log - Grey & De'Lenn - "The Extent of the Damage"

Posted on Tue Feb 4th, 2020 @ 11:11pm by Lieutenant Commander Ky'La De'Lenn & Brigadier General Jonathan Grey

1,256 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: The Sincerest Form of Flattery
Location: Versailles
Timeline: Current

=^= Main Engineering =^=

The cluster of warp cores glowed blue in the center of the room. Each routed energies in a complex weave that both supported and enhanced its neighbours, providing power to this section of the station. Other "engineering hubs" contained similar facilities and cores, distributing power generation across the station, but ultimately one had been designated "Main Engineering". This was both a matter of habit, due to the number of former starship engineers, and a matter of practicality.

The Main Engineering power hub, for instance, had a very important person based there.

"Commander De'Lenn!" called the General, striding through the double-doors with a cadre of marines at his heels. Peering about, he noted that the normal brilliance of the core cluster was a muted blue glow, as if the station had been put on standby.

"Comma-ah. There you are." he said to himself, spying a familiar face arm-deep in the guts of something complicated. "Status report, please."

Muttering in Klingon as usual, Ky'la groaned as the part finally came loose and she removed it. "Damned black hole messed up every......oh... Grey it's you....assassins dead finally?", she asked, putting the part down and picking up the replacement piece and putting it in place. "This place was hit hard! I had to replace every one of these EPS power taps before......damn you get in there", she said banging the final piece in place. "Ah there we go," she said as the power came on bringing the scope of damage into the light. "Fek'lar this is a mess......and you want a status report in this mess?," Grey are you crazy.....just open your eyes and see for yourself. It's gonna take at least three weeks to clean up and repair the major systems but for everything! least 2 months. And that is utiliizing all my people and most of the marines to help!!", she said, looming at Grey frustrated. Ky'la had been hurt and was still wearing a bloodied rag type bandage on her head and one bound a deep gash on her arm, still she continued to work.

Biting back an equally frustrated answer, Grey took a breath and tried to remain calm. Part of it was a natural reaction to being snapped at, but another part was due to the fact that nobody had been taken in by his ruse. He'd faked his own incapacitation and frozen a fake body. Complete security, double-black ops, deniability in all chains of report.

And absolutely nobody had been fooled.

His Yeoman had seen straight through it, the group hiring the assassins had monitored his approach to their lair, and apparently even his CEO knew of his true objective.

Perhaps, even in his thirties, he was too old for black ops. Or perhaps the marines had gossipped like old washerwomen.

In any case, it was time for a little clarity here.

"Yes, Commander, the assassins are gone. Yes, I see that many things are broken. I expect it'll take more than two months to repair all of the damage. Entire chunks of the outer rings are uninhabitable, civilian areas are trashed, Starfleet areas are little better, and mobs are roaming my station."

"Unfortunately," he continued with a sigh, "none of that means we get to lick our wounds. We're still the diplomatic hub for this region, and it is imperative to preventing any number of wars that we continue to function. Ships needing repair have been re-routed, and diplomatic affairs will take place on a rented cruiser that's en-route, but we can't keep that up for weeks."

Here he paused, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"How long until we can minimally defend ourselves, and feign normality in a few areas?" he asked, trying not to think about how the populace would respond to them putting down red carpet in diplomatic suites while the populace went hungry.

Ky'la roared with laughter! "I am sorry Grey for laughing but you are asking for a miracle. Give me a day for defenses, I will try to get you more power foe quarters, replicators, a other day at least with my people doing triple shifts," Ky'la said sadly now not laughing but almost in tears as the reality of the damage was assessed by the amount of PADD's piling on her desk.

Finally picking up on the stress in Ky'La's voice, Grey opened his eyes and looked at his CEO.

Normally, a commanding officer was meant to be sensitive to the moods of his department heads, and to factor them into his orders. Then again, it was also his job to achieve objectives, which sometimes clashed with the all-too-Starfleet desire to keep everyone happy.

It was the age-old problem of empathy vs results.

Weighing his options, Grey did what every good long-term manager did; he balanced both.

"Ok," he said, trying to sound reasonable, "let's be practical here. If we make your staff pull triple-shifts, a crisis on the third day will destroy us because nobody'll be able to fix it."

Here, he paused, pulling a small padd from his pocket and poking at it.

"The first actual meeting that we can't delay or relocate isn't for over a week. Even then, we've got ships on the way with parts, antimatter, and cores we can borrow for short periods. We won't be going to warp with them, but we can rotate them, so at least we'll have power for air and food."

"Please don't overwork your staff," he added, "security is working hard to keep the panic under control, and medical is hard pressed, but those problems should be resolved soon. Engineering, on the other hand, will have work for months, as you said. I don't need perfection on the first day, just some manner of normality in the diplomatic suites by the end of the week, if you can."

As the General talked, he was tempted to put a hand on Ky'La's shoulder to reassure her that she wasn't in this alone, but quickly decided not to. Klingon blood often ran hot, and reacted poorly to pity. His CEO was only half-Klingon though, so he was torn over how to help her.

Ky'la reached out and put her hand on Grey's shoulder looking at him, "Well I can't make any grand promises but, I will give you six VIP quarters fully fixed, and as many replicators as I can get working by the time these Ambassadors or VIP's arrive. The environmental systems are already over taxed but I will try to fix what I can and clean up the air. Grey, the sooner we get the parts, the sooner we can get our home fixed," Ky'ra said sympathetically, as she continued to look at Grey.

The general nodded in reply, trying to pretend he hadn't flinched as the well-muscled half-Klingon had gripped his shoulder. He wasn't scared, oh no. Nor was he briefly worried that she'd seen some sign of weakness, and needed the "Starfleet promotions don't involve offing your CO" speech that Klingons usually received at the Academy.

"Good, good." said Grey, patting his CEO on her shoulder. "I'll make sure the Marines know to keep working for you. Except for these guys of course." he added, pointing a thumb at his entourage.

Ky'la couldn't help but give a giggle. "Yes Grey I see what you mean. Join me and Jonathan for dinner to night?", she asked.

=^= End of Log =^=

Brigadier General Jonathan Grey
Commanding Officer
Starbase Versailles


Lieutenant Commander Ky'La De'Lenn
Chief Engineering Officer
Starbase Versailles


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