JDL | Capt DiAgessi, Lt Stacker | "Fifty Shades of Gray"

Posted on Wed Oct 11th, 2017 @ 4:17am by Captain Aine DiAgessi & Commander James Stacker

The turbolift car was rattling its way up the shaft. Just a cursory look had confirmed that it might have dated to the original construction. Lieutenant Stacker saw dirt in one corner, a streak of corrosion in another. It was an unsurprising development, what with so much of the station being worked over. In fact he'd expected more. He reflected on that thought, and just as quickly it was gone as he quirked an eyebrow and wondered how much longer the trip to Operations would be. A hand came out, jerking forward, rotating the wrist outward to reveal a positively-ancient timepiece with a leather band. It was normally tucked under the cuff. Now it showed ... almost five minutes spent in the turbolift car.

"Well, you wanted adventure," the lieutenant muttered to himself as he tucked the watch back under the cuff of his uniform sleeve. The corners of his mouth quirked in a momentary trace of amusement. "Staff meetings are going to be a real bitch." The quirk threatened to tug itself into a full-blown smile. He suppressed it, aided by the sensation that the turbolift car was slowing down. Sure enough, it halted and the doors opened, revealing a sweeping and vast room that took up the forward half of the deck.

The bustling of a relatively skeleton crew mixed with construction team members from the USS Constance. The hum of equipment and voices joined to become a twisted Gregorian chant, humming through the vaulted ceiling panels and along the massive array of windows that made up the entire fore of the deck. Somewhere in the middle of it all, perched at a railing that separated levels between command and general monitoring, stood the tawny vision of a woman tasked with holding the reins of such a colossal and pivotal beast. Though taller than most women, Aine was hardly an imposing sight. Her relative youth shone through, defying the stress of a series of situations beginning to snowball together into what could only be called 'command'. The USS Vindicator was still missing from the docking pylon she should have been at days ago after a simple cursory exploration of the yawning, shimming Nebula languidly stretching out before them. It seemed to be taunting her, them... All of them. The Federation as a whole. Through one small patch lay the Ascendancy. Through the rest? Uncharted space that even the Ferengis notoriously refused to go anywhere near even though it would cut their trade route times in half.

She sighed, pushing herself away from the railing in search of the relative comfort of her office when she saw him. Tall, dark, gray collar... Her eyes lingered on the collar. He was a ghost dwelling in a world where such entities were so very needed and yet so very shunned. "You look like a man on a mission, Lieutenant." She chose to greet him first, pausing her forward motion and offering him a small, welcoming smile.

His eyes snapped to her, taking themselves away from noting small details about the operations level. The construction crews moving hull metal aside. The engineers troubleshooting a faulty console. The flickering light and snaking cables. "Yes ma'am." It was a steady tone, unfazed even by the overwhelming noise and bustling activity that raged all around. An eyebrow threatened to raise itself as he noted the captain's pips, which stood in remarkable contrast to her age. Like the Executive Officer, he was the product of a generation that had come to associate captain's pips with greying hair and lines of age. Some small part of his mind whispered that there must be admirals at Starfleet pitching fits. A ghost of a smile flitted about the corners of his mouth, at the thought.

"Lieutenant James Stacker, reporting as ordered."

Under his gaze, Aine felt no need to posture or prove her merit regardless of the way his eyes held scrutiny and question. Eyes that glimmered like Satie's had when he first took stock of the fresh faced woman he'd been assigned to. At thirty years of age, she was painfully aware that she was among the youngest to ever assume command of anything, especially a station of this magnitude with the weight of politics not withstanding. That had been an additional consolation prize that should and would have made the most seasoned officers gape like a fish in the freezer and reconsider their life choices. She'd have not only been remiss, but a fool to think any different. Worse... Though they didn't share a common last name, the cloud of her mother billowed like a black sail from the station's highest point. Fleet Admiral Blyx Red. A legend... And no doubt one of the biggest reasons why Aine had been sent there in the first place.

Proving herself would come with time and it wouldn't happen by bristling at every Tom, Dick, and Harry that happened to eyeball her with that air of skepticism. "Welcome to Cold Station Theta, Lieutenant Stacker. Walk with me to my office, we'll get you settled in." Aine's patient smile withstood as she gestured towards her private port in the middle of the maelstrom of last minute construction and repairs.

"Aye ma'am." The training kicked in as they made their way through the storm. Three steps behind, several to the right. It was his own private legacy of a career that had been left behind, for better or worse. His eyes flicked to the right, in time to see another crew of gold-shirted engineers busy doing something else. "Busy place," he commented aloud. Some activity drew his eye farther out, towards the periphery. He saw the vast sweep of downward-curving hull metal, the dots of worker bees flitting against the starlight.

"And about to get a whole lot busier," She agreed with a bemused chuckle. It was an easy trip made so much more difficult by the nature of the work being done, "They'd have been finished a week ago if Admiral Red hadn't been attacked. Every member of the work crew wound up being vetted and interrogated." Aine found herself explaining as she passed through the doors and enveloped herself in the sound proofed slice of paradise carved out for her use. At least it would someday be paradise, for the moment it represented orders and stacks of PADDs all requiring her careful attention. Gesturing to an open chair opposite het desk, the woman poured herself into her own, folding her own and reaching for a PADD she was becoming intimately familiar with; crew requisition, staging, staffing.

Finding him and his orders didn't take her long at all, "This should be an interesting assignment for you," she mused, "How much do you know about the political atmosphere out here in the black?" Yes. That was probably the best place to start rather than boring him or insulting his intelligence by rehashing what he already knew.

His lips compressed into a flat line at her question, and he gave a small shake of the head. It wasn't a particular good admission to make, and he knew it. "Very little ma'am. Operations Group 21 was focused on -" he paused, eyes momentarily looking as if they were far away while he raced through what he was allowed to say, even in a captain's office, before snapping back to the present. "We were focused elsewhere. We heard rumblings, but nothing concrete." His shoulders lifted slightly, and a slightly-apologetic look crossed his face. "News traveled slowly in the borderlands. I do intend to start reviewing as much data as I can to get up-to-speed, though."

At least he was honest. That would always win brownie points where false bravado and ego would quickly lose them, "Reader's digest version? A rather technologically advanced race known as the Stenellian Ascendancy has been in contact with the Federation over the last three years and we almost entered into war with them because the Romulans over salted the soup." She began with a sigh. The light in her eyes darkened, sliding deep into storm clouds when there had once been sunshine, "We got lucky. Their chain of power shifted and their current Empress is a lot more friendly and less likely to be persuaded by the Romulans than the last, but they still have control over the Cardassians and they still have Romulan interests. Empress Xue'Daio Nox has taken one of the Praetor's nephews as her husband."

If anything she was giving the Reader's Digest version of the Reader's Digest version, choosing to give him the baseline and enable him to do his own research and learning. "Anyway... They've sent an ambassador through the Academy as a show of good faith. She serves aboard the USS Vindicator, which is all fine and dandy, except for the fact that the Vindicator has been out of contact for a month and is a solid week overdue back in port. We're about to play host to every major Admiral Starfleet has to offer and word is that the Empress is inbound as well." Looking up from the PADD, her eyes found his once again, "Any questions so far?"

The alert look in his eyes had only intensified even more. This was - for lack of better wording - Stacker in his element. His head had tilted slightly as she spoke, and his hands had found places on his thighs where they could be still. Only a single index finger had rhythmically tap-tapped as she filled him in. Occasionally his right eyebrow had compressed downward at some piece of information - most notably at news that a 1.2 kilometer-long starship with a crew of well over a thousand had vanished for a month. He suppressed the urge to make a flippant comment - something about giant yellow flashing neon signs teased at him.

"No questions, ma'am." He paused for a moment, thinking before proceeding. Whatever rust had accumulated during his trip to the station was falling off the gears of his mind with all the vigor of a dog just out of the water. "This sounds like quite a bit. What do you see as intelligence's top priority at the moment? How can we assist the mission?"

"Aside from making sure there's no further attacks on Federation citizens and Starfleet Admiralty on this station, I want an eye kept on two people more than anything else." Aine responded, leaning back in her chair. It hissed in response, announcing her motion more than it needed to, "Danielle Atarah, who will be arriving with Vice Admiral Archer and Commodore Levine aboard the USS Endeavour, and Empress Xue'Daio Nox when she arrives." The request didn't need explanation or definition. He'd find dossiers on both without much issue and from there he'd figure himself out. Of that, she was quite certain. He was the bloodhound and she'd just waved a cloth in front of his nose, putting him on the trail of what it was that needed to be done. Spooks were good that way, they molded themselves in with the shadows and went about their merry way ensuring the safety of everyone around them.

His eyes narrowed, lines appearing and disappearing at the corners as he gave her a nod. It went without saying that a notation had been made in his mind. Neither name rung a bell: he intended to change that quite shortly. "Understood ma'am. I'll have the department coordinate with station security; if anything further comes up, we'll let you and the XO know."

"I have faith that you will, Lieutenant." The smile that now painted itself across her face was one of genuine satisfaction and relief, but it dimmed and dwindled about the same time that she held a single slender finger up, "Before you go. There are two other matters to attend to. One, I'm loathe to inform you that Doctor Valeese is expecting you for your physical. The other... Well..." She sighed and found her feet, tugging her uniform tunic down as she did. The PADD she held found its way back to her desk top with a soft, subtle 'snick' of plastic against black granite. "It's an honor to inform you that you are being promoted to Lieutenant Commander with all powers and responsibilities to be awarded to you in full. Congratulations and may Cold Station Theta continue to bring you that degree of fortune."

On board for less than a day, and promoted already? Unconsciously he'd already risen to his feet. Now he found a deep chuckle of amusement rising from his chest, and a smile appearing on his face. "Thank you ma'am. I look forward to serving here. And I'll get to see the doctor." Best not to put that off, or so experience told him. Commanding Officers didn't tend to be pleased when they were told department heads were ducking physicals.

"You may want to send some of the gratitude back to Commodore Ravnsson. He's the one who sent the love note." She chuckled, "It's good to have you aboard, regardless. Enjoy the rest of your day." Oh how interesting life had truly turned.

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Captain Aine DiAgessi
Commanding Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170

Lieutenant Commander James Stacker
Chief Intelligence Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170