Trick or ...

[Atragon9 0]

::Major Arthur Terry loved his job... on most days. Today, however, the commander of station operations for Maturin Station was more than a little bit overwhelmed. He was just returning from his morning ritual of walking/inspecting the public areas of the station and was about to sit at his desk and begin his workday when he noticed three of his station managers waiting outside his door. He sighed to himself, now sorry that his being such a creature of habit had allowed his managers to know just when and where they could corner him every day::

 

Good morning, gentlemen, why don't you let me get into the office before you pounce, hmm? Come on in, take some seats and let's see what's on fire this morning.

 

::He unlocks the door and sees that his desktop console is already lit up and pulsing with the red glow of multiple urgent requests. This time he sighs out loud as he sits down behind his desk::

 

So, it's going to be that kind of a day, is it? Alright, I will try to ignore my messages for now and work with you, but I think it has to be quick. Dock Sup, what do you have?

 

::he takes the PADD from his Docking and Repair Supervisor and scans it quickly::

 

Manticore needs MORE hull plating? And how much Deuterium?!?! ::he looks at the manager incredulously and realizes that it isn't the man's fault that Manticore came back, looking more like swiss cheese than a starship, he spares him any more grief and looks back down at the PADD:: Palattes of bio-neural gel packs? Palattes?!!? That stuff is still experimental and we are the only place with a stockpile, but this will clean us out!!!? Gads, these people go on secret missions, how do they keep a low profile if they keep blowing up and blowing up everything around them? ::He looks up again, noticing that the man is about to answer, hesitantly:: No, sorry, I wasn't really asking you to spy on a spy ship. ::Sighing again:: Okay, we have standing orders to give them whatever they need to get healthy and back out in space. That also gets their weird crew off the station, so it's approved, along with whatever overtime you need to get them all fixed up. The Consul General has told me that they need to be out of here in 36 hours.

 

::He keys in his acknowledgment and hands that PADD back, watching the Dock Sup turn and hurry out. Terry then turns to his Security Supervisor and reaches out for his PADD::

 

Alright Al, who snuck onto the Station last night, hmm? ::He starts to read it and suddenly sits up very straight, all traces of humor have left his face:: Those frakking temporal cops again? I thought we had them radio tagged so they couldn't do this!!? I mean, not really tagged, but... Uggh and they met with Manticore's 2ndO in Five Guys? Right out there in Public?! Oh, fercryingoutloud! I'd throw them in the brig if they were still on station... (m) and if I can find some reg that they actually violated. ::The Security chief visibly squirms, waiting to be blamed for this lapse, but Terry just keeps reading:: Okay, the rest looks fine. You know, you don't have to ambush me with these updates if there's nothing you need besides my nod. You can just send me a message... ::his eyes flick to his over-full inbox still waiting for his okay to start spewing high-priority messages onto the reading screen and then he looks back to his Sec Sup, who is trying not to smirk:: Yeah yeah, okay I get it.

 

::He hands back the Security PADD back and the supervisor exits the office. He finally turns to face his Station Ops sub-commander, Phillip Earp, who is waiting patiently, no PADD in hand, with a look like he hasn't slept in two days - probably true::

 

TERRY> Okay Phil, have a seat and give me the hot list.

 

EARP> ::sitting slowly, taking a moment to enjoy the the feeling of being off his feet:: Art, it's just another day in the loony bin with that crazy Nebula ship back home. Nothing any more unusual than the usual.

 

TERRY> ::Settling himself back in his chair and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth:: Yeah, but the reason we get to have control of the most excellent station in the Federation is because of that "crazy Nebula" (stage direction: note the framed, autographed "Wyld Stallyns" t-shirt hanging on the wall of Terry's office). So, how goes the party planning?

 

EARP> ::making a slightly sour face:: The entire Promenade has been alerted to the work being done this afternoon. By tonight, the entire deck will be transformed into that castle you wanted.

 

TERRY> ::His eyes light up:: Excellent!! And it's a Haunted Mansion, please! Oh come on, Phil, you need to loosen up and have some fun! We actually get to put on a Halloween Party while Manticore is docked. We get to Really see how crazy these people are and can be crazy right back to them - all in the name of innocent, costumed fun!

 

EARP> Well, it's really putting a strain on station personnel, since we can't stop the repair and maintenance work for Manticore to do this. Besides, aren't we all a bit old for a Halloween Party? ::Terry starts to speak, but Earp rushes ahead:: And what's the deal with a Halloween Party on November 1? Is this so we can get the candy on discount?

 

TERRY> ::Smiling at his assistant:: Well, we are across the Intergalactic Date Line from Earth, so it's going to be October 31 back home, that's why we're doing it tonight. C'mon, Phil, what's really eating you about this?

 

EARP> It's just that... It's that I... ::looks awkwardly at the floor:: (q) I don't have a costume.

 

TERRY> ::Pops out of his chair and comes around the desk:: Well, that IS a problem, we need to take care of this right away, everything else can wait!

::Terry claps Earp on the shoulder and starts to walk out of the office with him when his desk console chirps::

 

OPS> +Major Terry, we have a Priority One message for you from the Federation Council+

 

TERRY> ::Stops in his tracks and shrugs his shoulders to Earp:: Duty calls, but we WILL get you set up, I promise. I wonder if the Council is RSVP'ing for the party, hmm? ::He waves off the look of abject misery on Earp's face that the Council members may be showing up as he sits down at his desk again:: +OPS+ Send it through now.

 

::Phil Earp turns and heads out of the office, wondering if he can pull together a convincing 'Smithers' or 'Kif Kroker' costume in time::

[KhreRiovtRex 0]

 

Gads, these people go on secret missions, how do they keep a low profile if they keep blowing up and blowing up everything around them? :::: That also gets their weird crew off the station,

 

Rofl!!! So it's unanimous, even the Lloann'na agree!!