The Raggedy Edge
Posted on Mon May 13th, 2024 @ 7:13pm by Captain Mrazak & Lieutenant JG Ryland Dedeker & Lieutenant Commander BaoJun Qiao & Lieutenant Commander Finley Chu & Lieutenant Sophie Xiong & Gunnery Sergeant Roderik Kos & Ferrofax & Lieutenant Commander T'Bela & Lieutenant Commander Leonora Wolf MD & Lieutenant Teejay & Gregorio Emanuel de Castillo-Bartres
5,527 words; about a 28 minute read
Mission:
S1E6: Where Skies End
Location: Gamma Command
Timeline: MD 3
The Bajoran wormhole spiraled open with its characteristic luminescence, a tunnel of swirling colors bridging the vast expanse between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants. Once it collapsed, all that was left in its space was the Phantom. The space traffic to get through the wormhole had added an unwanted delay which made Mrazak more bothersome than ever. By the time the ship made it to Gamma Command at New Bajor, the Vulcan Without Logic had nearly chewed a hole through his cheek.
"Our phony registry has been accepted by Gamma Command Tower," reported Ryland from the helm, "so we're good and parked."
"Resplendent." Mrazak steepled his fingers over his chest and let out a slow, tired sigh. All he wanted to do was get to the Area of Operations, yet there seemed to be one hurdle after another. Well, it was time to streamline. "Open a ship-wide channel."
Once the communications officer nodded an affirmative, Mrazak began his address. "This is Captain Mrazak. As you should already be aware, we have arrived at Gamma Command. The Field Team is hereby ordered to beam down to the starbase."
After cutting the channel, Mrazak stood up from the command chair. "Lieutenant Dedeker, you have the conn." His brow knitted in disdain. "But do nothing without my explicit permission."
"Yeah, sure." Ryland leaned back and kicked his feet up on the helm. If he could at all help it, he would not be setting foot anywhere in the Gamma Quadrant. "Hey, Ferrofax! Could you keep an ear out for, uh, any talk that might include me? Just among the local color."
"Huum? Well I mean I could keep an ear out, but given the diseased and degenerate data sphere you've brought me to I am less than thrilled to muck through it on your behalf," Ferrofax mused. "...Though adding data to it might get us faster results. I could place a note here and there that you are here, see what we can flush out of the reclaimator system as it were."
Ryland's feet slipped off the helm console and nearly sent him sliding from his chair onto the floor. "No! No, don't do that. I'm... I'm kind of not on friendly terms with my brother. If he finds out I'm on this side of the wormhole, he's liable to get real nosy and troublesome." He resituated himself and got comfortable again. "Best I just lay low."
"Oh, but that is much more efficient! Do you know there are digital tripwires with your name attached to them in every database on this station! Immigration, criminal, medical-oh! There is even one in the sector coroner's office! I'll be honest, I think that one is more just to tick a box so all the others get deleted," Ferrofax opined. "I'll be honest this is impressive code work, really! Like tension wires made into a spider's web. One caress...and the spiders come scuttling."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up..." Ryland folded his arms and sunk into the command chair, preparing to do nothing for a good, long while.
When the Field Team arrived, Mrazak wasted no time giving orders. "I am obligated to conduct a number of administrative tasks with our absent bureaucratic liaison before we actually begin our mission, but I am hereby delegating as many of them as possible to the Field Team. You will need to secure proper authorization for our temporary registry from Flight Traffic Control in order to avoid Jem Hadar patrols, then obtain the most recent reports on all persons and areas of interests and priority targets from the Security office, and then requisition a replicator to replace the one on the bridge. See that they are completed and that we are on our way. And do not dither or dally! Ferrofax will be authorized to retrieve you however he sees fit."
Sophie wanted to tell Mrazak to stuff it. She had no idea where this extra insubordinate attitude had come from or why she felt the need to give everyone the finger, but it only seemed to be getting stronger with each passing day. Instead of doing any of those things, however, she simply rolled her eyes and went to see about a new replicator.
Bao considered for a moment. "Commander Chu, Lieutenant Teejay, would you care to join me for an unspecified local libation at the local bad guy bar? It seems to be we know far less about the happenings in this area than desirable." His eyes flashed as he looked through reviews of local watering holes, looking for the least reputable amongst them.
Leah nodded, "I'll go talk to the Security Office, T'Bela, do you want to secure our new ship identity?" She asked of the Cardassian.
T’Bela grinned slightly as she imagined a Cardassian trying to register a ship identity with anybody at Gamma Command. If nothing else, it would be entertaining. “Yes I do believe I do want to do that,” she said, an amused expression on her face.
Leah grinned, "I look forward to hearing them bitch. Alright, we'll meet up when done. You have my freq if you need me." She gave everyone a nod and Teejay a wink and headed for the Security Office.
Security Office
Leah strolled into the Security Office with confidence and flashed her Starfleet Security Warrant Card. Or rather what the system believed to be one. "Need to talk to the Quadrant SIO."
SIO was an acronym for the Sector Investigations Officer, a person from Security who collated intelligence and reports from relevant sectors and sent them up to Starfleet Command for further dissemination.
A small stocky Bolian man looked up from a desk to her left. "Name's Rizla. What do you need...Commander...?"
"Denise Hopper." Leah replied in a typical east coast accent from the North Americas. "Need your latest reports. We've got the USS Kensington coming through in a couple of days time to start doing their Deep Space scientific mapping, they're wanting to know places to...avoid. I mean," she threw on a grin, "those scientists are both scared and fascinated of what lies on this side of the wormhole. I happen to owe the Captain a favor so he asked me to get all the scoop for them."
Whilst all of this was true, Leah wasn't part of the Kensington crew, but she did owe the Captain a favor. The Captain, one Kalikuo Arija was a former member of Leah's Delphi team and a former potential flame. Wolf wasn't a hundred percent sure as to whether Arija would play the game if she ever heard anything about this from Rizla or not, given the fact that the two had grown apart and had not spoken since Delphi was disbanded.
She'd just have to cross that bridge when she came to it. If she came to it. Leah would still send the Kensington the information, once she filtered through the information that the team needed.
"Don't you just hate owing the Captain favors?" Rizla chuckled, "give me a moment." Then moments later, he looked up from his console as he finished inputting commands, he said, "so while we wait for the transfer to your PADD...what kind of favor are we talking about? What's the goss?"
Wolf smirked, like a hunter who knew they had their prey. "Listen to this..." she leaned against the console conspiratorially and started pulling the imaginary favor Arija had done for her off the top of her head.
Flight Control Center
There was a queue at the control center. Just one. Two may have been more expedient but one was efficient enough for their purposes. T'Bela had become quite familiar with her square meter spot in line, as it had not moved for 20 minutes.
"Next!" called the officer at the window.
Everyone advanced by one pace. At this rate, she was going to be there awhile.
T’Bela sighed. This was going to take forever. She should have brought a sandwich with her. Who knew if she’d be out of here in time for lunch?
She caught a woman staring at her openly and have her a small smile and nod of respect, then looked away. She was accustomed to the stares. Part of her was amused by them. Most people were not hostile to her and were merely confused by the sight of a Cardassian in a Starfleet Medical uniform. She couldn’t blame them; she was one of very few Cardassians in Starfleet. In fact, one could count the number on one hand.
After what seemed another short eternity, the line moved forward once more. T’Bela began to amuse herself by mentally forming sentences in Bajoran, Vulcan, and Federation Standard. Why? It kept her mind occupied and stopped the absolute mind numbing boredom.
"Next!"
Despite the urgency of the order, the line barely moved. Everyone stepped forward a single pace. Between those in Starfleet uniforms and those in civilian clothes, T'Bela was outnumbered by 4 to 1. Surely there had to be a better way than this.
Well, T’Bela had hoped she could just do this the old fashioned way. She didn’t like to pull rank, but at this rate, it was going to be five days before she got to the front of the line. There was no time for this. So finally, as the next customer finished and prepared to leave, she jumped the rope and walked up to the window. Without another word, she simply gave the officer on duty her security clearance and motioned that they type it into the computer. She also did not respond to the angry mutterings of the people still in line. Being apologetic would only be admitting that they were right to be angry and she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
"Oh..." The petty officer running the flight control window didn't know what that clearance meant, but it looked important. "What, uh, what can I do for you, Commander?" she asked, taking notice for the first time. Not only was it a Lieutenant Commander and a Cardassian to boot, she was packing an off the charts clearance. "Sorry for the delay, Commander."
“It’s okay,” replied T’Bela in her best grandmother voice. “You’re doing the best you can under the circumstances.” She held up the PADD she was holding. “I need to file a temporary registry for my ship. All of the information is here.”
"Oh I see! Give me a moment..." After inputting the data, then checking and rechecking, a mounting look of worry came over the petty officer's face. "Apologies, Commander, but it looks like there are multiple competing registries for this vessel. I... I've never seen anything like it. I may need to escalate it to Administration. You're welcome to wait, or you can look into it directly up there." Her pained grimace showed she was worried about an angry outburst from T'Bela. "I'm so sorry, Commander!"
“It’s quite all right,” replied T’Bela with a warm smile. “You’re only doing your job. Just point me in the right direction and tell me who to talk to and I’ll be out of your hair.”
The petty officer tried not to look relieved. "Just head back to the turbolift and take it to the administration center. They shouldn't give you too much trouble trying to get there.
“Thank you so much,” replied T’Bela with a friendly smile. “You’ve been very helpful. I hope the rest of your day is pleasant.”
Logistical Supply Office
There was nobody manning the supply office. In fact, there wasn't even a desk or station for a biological entity. All that could be seen was an access terminal.
This seemed suspicious.
Was she simply meant to take whatever she needed? She rolled her eyes. They couldn’t even bother to put a person in here. Were there even any measures to keep people from stealing? She wouldn’t have been surprised if they depended on people’s morals.
With a disgusted shake of her head, she approached the access terminal to see what it could tell her. She tapped the screen to wake it up and spotted a place to type in what you were searching for. She input the proper words, answered a few questions about specifications, and then waited.
"Hi! You seem to be looking for something! Can I help you?"
The holographic avatar that appeared looked human in form and function, dressed in the khaki overalls of the Starfleet Logistics Division and appearing quite human in shape. But when you got to the face, the figure took a rapidly declining zipline plunge right into the uncanny valley. The perfectly side-parted hair, wide forehead, dimpled chin and strong cheekbones were all normal until it smiled: all teeth and cavity-inducing charm. It held up a hand.
"You typed in: Replicator. Did you mean," it began to list off items, each one prompting a thumbnail image to appear in orbit of his hand. "Nanoscale replicators? Industrial replicators? Ship services replicators? Sexual reproductive services? Merchanise from the Ferengi soft acid punk band 'The' Replicators?-"
And it kept on going without simulating a breath.
So, Sophie simply talked over it. “I already put all this information into the terminal!” she pointed out irritably, gesturing to the nearby terminal. “And I know you have access to it because you’ve just told me what I need. So why don’t you just tell me where to find it and how to get it?”
The sales avatar blinked for a second.
"Please restate the elements of your query so that I might be better able to service your needs. If you do not understand this statement please speak in a Federation standard language, or provide a suitable sample size for linguistic compilation. If you would like to speak to a sapient biological entity please state this preference..." the avatar paused, actually freezing for a long moment. "...now."
“Oh my God yes get me the sapient biological entity at once!” Sophie replied all in one breath, growing more and more frustrated by the second.
"Connecting you now!" The hologram animated to speak and then froze again as a tinny low-fidelity musical ditty began to plink out of the air. Then the hologram faded, and a display pane opened in the air to reveal a Ferengi in a Starfleet uniform.
"Starfleet Gamma Command Logistics, Petty Officer Yog. How can I help?" said the tired looking PO.
Sophie rolled her eyes almost automatically. “I need a replicator,” she snapped irritably. She quickly gave him the specs. “Your stupid hologram just kept droning on and on. It’s very unhelpful.”
"Ah huh." Yog said, looking away from the screen at something else in his field of view. "Could you tell me what sort of replicator you were after?"
Sophie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Hadn’t she literally just given him the specs? Not only was the computer incompetent, but so was the ‘sapient biological entity’ it seemed. She gave him the list of specs again, a little slower this time. “And hurry up!” she snapped. “I don’t have all day!”
"Oh, course Ma'am. I can see how a replicator would be mission critical," PO Yog said as he looked over the specs sheet. "Okay I have the model and make, and I see there are three in stock. Now all you need to do is file a TPK form, stating this, and Gamma Command Logisitcs will get the item to you in three weeks."
Sophie was sorely tempted to just go back to the ship and tell Mrazak to shove it, but she had a task to complete and she never backed down until it was done. “Unacceptable,” she replied. “I need it now.” And she rattled off her security authorization. That should get things moving.
"Frell!" Yog chittered in nervous laughter as only a sharp-toothed Ferengi could. "It looks like that was yesterday's inventory. The system just updated and it looks like those were already installed to berthed vessels. Your authorization puts you at the top of the list for the new ones."
Clearly Sophie was getting nowhere.
The Amoran club
As Starfleet officers, the doorkeepers at the club couldn't specifically keep Bao, Teejay, and Fin out of the establishment, but they certainly didn't have to welcome them. The dingy atmosphere was hidden by almost pitch black darkness that was broken up by flashing strobes. The intermittent lighting, when not triggering seizures in the photosensitive, showed a shocking number of substance abuse cases taking place right then and there. Dancers danced but it was difficult to tell whether they were employed or just lost to the deafening, ear-splitting bass music.
Bao silently cursed not having a chance to switch out of uniform. It would have made them stick out much less. That wasn't really available, so they'd have to try to blend in through other means. Of course, he also hadn't counted on the music being quite this loud. It bordered on painful for him. He spent a moment deciding between Finn and Teejay, before figuring the intelligence agent could probably handle herself and would pick up on anything he did, being more skilled than him in the matter. That in mind, he leaned into Teejay, doing his best to appear possessive without actually accosting the man. "How is your hearing in here?" he asked as he tasked Sunny to start filtering the sensory input to be less problematic for him.
He'd taken a moment to remove his uniform jacket and tie it around his waist, and then Teejay had set about fixing the second, more pressing problem. Tearing the short sleeves from his undershirt, he shoved them in his ears and, even then, still winced a little at the sheer volume of the club. The thumping vibrations of that moody bass caught him in other ways too though, his body automatically adjusting to 'dance mode' as Teejay worked the rhythm.
As Bao closed in, Teejay rolled effortlessly with the invasion of his personal space and moved his face close to the Xenoscientist's ear, his words whispered. "It hurts like hell," he replied, beaming a vast grin. "But I love dancing!" He remained close enough for the other man to feel his breath as he continued to relax into the overwhelming beat.
Fin, for her part, just cracked a smile. Something more akin to kid in candy store than secretive and seductive spy. It had been a while since she got a chance to go to any kind of club. She quickly pulled off her uniform jacket. She plucked her combadge off of it, and tied the jacket across her chest, her combadge on her undershirt, under the jacket. Her rankpips disappeared into her pocket. And her hair was released from its conservative bun, long black hair cascading over her shoulders. All this happened as she disappeared away from the other officers she came with. It was good to get back in her own field, if only for a few minutes.
Administrative Offices
Mrazak was going to have a conniption in full view of everyone. "What do you mean the diplomats are unavailable?!"
Gregorio smiled predatorily at the Vulcan. "I do not believe I stuttered or spoke in some unknown tongue. They are unavailable to speak to you at the current time. They are quite busy attending to more serious problems than your whims at the moment. Which part of the statement are you having difficulty understanding?" he said, willing the pointy-eared egotist to do the addition on his own.
"I don't have to tell you who I am," Mrazak shot back, "nor who sent me. My orders state that I require official sanction from Gamma Command before the field team is to enter Dominion space. Redundant authorization since mine already exceeds their own, but worthless people must justify their own existence." He let out an exasperated sigh. "Now if the other glad-handing sycophants cannot provide what I require, then I demand you go fetch it from them immediately. That is what your job entails, is it not?"
Gregorio glanced at a padd. "Your orders are not the concern of the Diplomatic Corps, Captain Malparido. Under no circumstances would we sanction the entrance of any vessel, much less the USS Chingados into Dominion space in violation of the Treaty of Bajor. Now do you have any business that we can actually assist you with instead of wasting my time when I should be assisting Ambassador Delahunt?"
"Those are not the names I selected!" Mrazak protested in outrage. "And where is my scientific survey I was guaranteed?! Why hasn't it been made ready?! The incompetence of this facility is outrageous!"
"I was not aware that Starfleet was in the habit of allowing their staff the ability to randomly change the names of their vessels. Should you wish to change your legal name, please file the petition with the district court. That is not something the State Department can assist you with," Gregorio stated, starting to become annoyed more than amused at the Vulcan's inability to pick up on the hint. He rolled his eyes. "If you are expecting a scientific survey, perhaps you should check with the science department of Gamma Command. Although, I realise matching department to request seems to be a particular weakness of yours. Now, if there will be nothing else Captain Malparido, I suggest you go bother Commodore Sinclaire's staff."
Mrazak glowered at the man. "When Admiral Tau first sent you to my agency, I did not expect much from you, but I did expect competence in basic duty requirements. Congratulations on failing to meet even that expectation." He spun around and marched off to contend with station administration.
The Amoran club
Leah had made her way to the club, her hair was sprawled wild and free, jacket tied around her waist, the turtleneck rolled down, sleeves rolled up and she was 'having the time of her life', one of her arms around a seedy looking fella who seemed to be whispering something in her ear, while she 'giggled' every so often and took a sip of the liquid that was in her glass. Periodically, she glanced around for the rest of the team that was meant to investigate the club, so that she could 'joyfully' insert herself with that group.
There was a way in, a way to use impulse. She just had to reach a friendly to relay the info.
Bao was trying to be inconspicuous while people-watching after "ditching" Teejay and Finn. He probably was not actually doing that great a job of it. Reading people was ok, but he was an anthropologist, not a spy, so fitting in at the bad guy bar wasn't really in the curriculum. He only hoped that by distancing from them he would prove a distraction for their more practiced abilities. Oddly enough, on a gaze through the room he saw someone his ectopics quickly identified for him, though it took him a few moments to reconnect the name to the Intelligence Liaison from the Corvan fiasco. He had completely given up on not sticking out, so he supposed she would notice him eventually, or, perhaps more likely, Finn or Teejay if she wanted to keep her cover.
Wolf had espied the awkward looking scientist from their team. She whispered something to the bloke she was sitting with. He wasn't happy with what she'd had to say, yet she separated herself from him anyway. Leah held her hand on the switch blade in her pocket, just in case as she slinked her way over to Bao. In a place like this, you never could tell what rejection could do to an insecure individual.
Theatrically, she threw on a smile as she approached Bao and threw her arms around him. "Sugah! There you are!" A southern drawl spilled from her lips. "You've kept momma waiting, again." Leah leaned in closer and leaned her lips against Bao's ear. "We need to get a message to the boss ASAP. There's a way to use impulse, if we follow the comet. Can Sunny get the message to him?" Wolf asked, still in a very up close and personal position with Bao.
Part of Leah felt bad, as she knew that this was not the man's preferred state being, both in terms of environment or partner. The other part, though, knew that Bao was a professional and that he would understand that these theatrics were just that, theatrics and that they meant nothing. At least, she hoped so.
Bao tamped down on his natural urge to cringe. What in King Yanma's name was that accent? It took his translation heuristic a noticeable amount of time to adjust to it. No way was he going imitate that. Fortunately, she spoke more plainly when she whispered in his ear. He pulled back slightly, "Sorry. The Captain took his time getting here," he said, letting his eyes flash blue for a minute to let her know he had his AI paying attention to pass along the information.
Leah nodded, flashing Bao a smile for show. "The Archons are the reason Warp travel isn't possible in this area. They are a solanogen based life form, and they seem to attack ships at warp when they intersect with a ship's neutrino emissions. I don't know if they consider it an attack, an intrusion or what. But the comet, if we trail it, we are safe, it apparently travels at near warp speed, and it does a monthly circle of the region, so if we trail it and drop out at Fiddler's Green, we should avoid a fight we likely can't win. He said more scientific words but they are not my kind of science...but I remember something about String Theory?" She whispered into Bao's ear, hoping that Sunny was relaying the message to Mrazak.
The Lagashi nodded along, letting Leah paw him more than he would care for, but deciding that not being assaulted by hostile lifeforms as worth it. His eyes flashed again as he packed all the information up in a message packet to be delivered to Dedeker on the Phantom with orders to pass it to Mrazak.
Cocktail in hand, Teejay sucked up multicoloured (non-alcoholic) beverage, flashed a bright smile at the small group of curvaceous dancers he'd been surrounded by, and cast his gaze around the club like a fishing net. He caught the two other Starfleet officers at exactly their most interesting moment, but allowed his head to keep following the circuit until he completed a wandering circle. Leah. Bao. All wrapped up in a cuddle. Well, that was unexpected. He pushed down that first pang of envy, placed his empty glass down on the floor and hurtled himself into a impromptu on-the-spot gymnastic display hitting the crescendo of the song with a somersaulting flourish. It ended with him sat crosslegged on the dance floor, with just enough female attention to make him feel vindicated.
Fin looked on impressed at Teejay's moves. There was something to be said about being able to move like that, but it defeat the point of being subtle. She moved herself on the dancefloor again, hips moving with the music, hands expressing interesting shapes. She slid in besides Teejay, taking one of his hands in hers, and placing it on her hip as she turned to face him closely. Her other hand found his, positioning opposite his first. "Good moves." She leaned in to whisper. "Did you know you're worth about twenty bars of latinum in the Traverse? Everything Starfleet has a bounty on its head in there. Anyone named Dedeker is worth north of a hundred."
As Bao confirmed the message relayed, Leah pulled away from Bao with a grin and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. "I need another drink. You look like you could use one too." She said to him and motioned for them to go back to the counter.
"Do you think you could convince the bartender to sell us the bottle?"
As they passed by the dancing Teejay and Fin, Leah playfully grabbed his behind and gave it a squeeze and gave them both a grin and a wink before returning to Bao. There would be time for apologies to the Lagashi scientist later for making him her public toy. For what was supposed to be an official assignment, this wasn't turning out half bad.
Administrative Offices
"Do you know who the lek I am?"
Mrazak had barged into the station commander's office. Commodore Sinclair, who happened to be the sector commander and the flag officer who reported directly to the GAMCOM committee back in the Sol system, looked up from his desk with alarm and no small amount of annoyance. Stuck as he was in his indispensable role, he might never make admiral. Despite that setback, or perhaps directly because of it, he ignored Mrazak and returned to his PADD.
For Mrazak's part, he hadn't realize he would be dealing with a rank that came with a box around the pips. That gave him pause only briefly. He was committed now, so he let his outrage fly. "Let me tell you who I am not, Commodore. I am not Captain Malparido of the USS Chingados!" He snatched the PADD out of Sinclair's hands and began inputting his own authorization. "I am Captain Nobody of the USS Neverwas on an urgent mission from the Special Task Group Unqualified Immunity." As he spoke, Mrazak tossed the PADD back into the center of the commodore's desk where it skidded to a stop. Slightly askew, the PADD still read the words SIGMA-THETA-9 in bold script.
"What..." Sinclair's words trailed off as he saw the authorization. The pieces started coming together for him. "Aha. I see Tau's hound dog has finally reared his head." Looking up at Mrazak with fresh disdain, he said, "What can I do for you, Captain, besides confirm your identity?"
"You can explain why I am unnecessarily waylaid by the malfeasance of every department under your command!" Mrazak's actual volume was low, but his bristling tone bordered on insubordination. "My scientific survey is incomplete, my security reports are nowhere to be found, my alternate ship registry is a joke, and nobody cares!" He stuck an angry finger at Sinclair. "I can't even get a replacement replicator for Fusion's sake! You should be ashamed of your entire installation, Commodore!"
Sinclair had finally taken enough. He stood up from his desk and leaned into his fists. "Now you hold it right there. I don't care whose lapdog you are, you will respect this office and the uniform you wear!" Mrazak's authorization had pulled up the full details of the mission. "If you don't like Chingados, then I'll outfit you with the last suitable option. Don't like it, then go back to whatever hole you crawled from."
After inputting his own authorization, Sinclair spun the PADD back around to Mrazak. "USS Xidada?" Mrazak's mouth pursed into a softer scowl. "Yes, that sounds respectable enough and not at all ridiculous. It will do." But he wasn't yet satisfied. "What about my scientific survey?"
"We're a political capital for an entire quadrant," Sinclair said. "I barely have enough specialists as it is. If you want a fucking survey, then get the hell out of my office and get one your damn self!"
Mrazak's scowl stretched into a fiendish smirk. "Thank you, Commodore. That is precisely what I will do." He navigated the commodore's PADD until he pulled up the personnel files for the station. "It appears you only have three Science officers on duty. That is pathetic. But since you aren't making use of them, I may as well." His authorization was already entered, so it was a small thing to initiate his transfer protocols. "I hereby invoke special dispensation to forcibly conscript your Science officers and transfer them to Memory Theta's command structure. Now I will get the hell out of your office, Commodore."
Amidst protests from Sinclair that he couldn't do any such thing, Mrazak turned on his heel and chucked the PADD off to the side where it fell to the floor with a clatter. Enough time had been wasted here. Duty was still calling. Once he'd left Sinclair's office, Mrazak tapped his combadge. =/\="Mrazak to Field Team. Return to the Phantom. We leave on the hour. Anybody not back to the ship will be AWOL."=/\=
From there, Mrazak made his way back to the transporter area and tapped his combadge again. =/\=”Mrazak to Phantom. Prepare to receive new conscripts. Put them into the Strategic Operations Conference Room until I can sort them out. Mrazak out.”=/\=
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