“Will do, Commodore. Ballard out.”
As the connection was severed, Reyes turned back toward his office, noting that the door remained open even though no one was in proximity to register with its sensor. He eyed the door as he entered his office, half expecting it to attempt cutting him in half as he passed through the entrance. When that did not happen, Reyes shook his head in mild irritation.
It’s always something.
Moving toward his desk, the commodore took stock of the image on the viewscreen built into the wall to his right. At present it was programmed to provide him with constant, real-time updates as to the status of Starbase 47’s construction as well as progress being made on the installation of numerous internal components. Most of the station’s exterior was in place, along with essential onboard systems as well as ship maintenance facilities, cargo storage, and crew living areas. While the main civilian residential complex also was completed, many of the aesthetic features, such as the “terrestrial enclosure,” were still under construction. A massive domed area within Starbase 47’s primary hull, the enclosure formed a “habitat shell” designed to mimic Earth-based exteriors, complete with an extensive park and even an artificial sky that could be programmed to simulate day or night. Once finished, the enclosure also would be home to Stars Landing, a commercial and residential district intended to offer a wide variety of shopping, dining, and entertainment options to the station’s crew, civilian merchants and travelers, and other visitors. The initiative was unique to Watchtower-class space stations such as Starbase 47, and unlike anything currently available to Starfleet personnel not assigned to a planet-based starbase.
Along with the status updates was a view of the station’s exterior, generated by sensor imagery and illustrating where several sections of the starbase’s internal skeletal structure remained visible as final outfitting tasks continued unabated. Much like Vanguard itself, the crew who soon would call this installation home also was incomplete. At the moment, the station’s complement consisted of construction teams and engineers, with approximately one-third of the starbase’s actual crew also on hand, though a report Reyes had read while eating breakfast informed him that a capable young man, Commander Jon Cooper, was en route and due to arrive within two weeks. The new second-in-command was being ferried by the U.S.S. Endeavour,the third of three Starfleet vessels permanently assigned to Starbase 47 under Reyes’s overall command. Despite the seemingly unending stream of irksome problems to be dealt with when undertaking a project of this magnitude, he knew that things were shaping up in fine fashion.
“Commodore Reyes?”
The soft voice made him turn from the viewscreen to see a female officer standing in his half-open doorway. She wore a gold tunic with captain’s stripes on her sleeves and carried a data slate in her left hand. Her hair, darker than even her uniform trousers, was styled in a short, feminine bob that—in Reyes’s opinion, at least—did an admirable job of framing her gentle, slightly rounded features. He guessed from her appearance that she was of Indian descent and was perhaps in her mid to late thirties, and quite attractive, he decided.
Stow it, Commodore.
“Yes?” he asked.
Stepping into the office, the woman said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but there was no one at your assistant’s desk. We’ve not yet had the chance to meet, but I’m Captain Rana Desai, from the Judge Advocate General. Starfleet’s assigned me to this station’s JAG office, and I only just arrived yesterday morning.” She spoke with a crisp London accent possessing an almost lyrical quality Reyes found soothing, though he noted that the captain radiated the proper bearing and confidence of a seasoned, accomplished officer. Of course, he knew Desai was such an officer, having reviewed her personnel record—and apparently forgotten about reading it—upon learning she would be serving aboard the station.
Reyes nodded in recognition. “Of course, Captain. I’m sorry for not putting two and two together, and for not meeting you when you came aboard. One of the many reasons I’m supposed to have an assistant is because I’m lousy at remembering those sorts of things.” He gestured toward the pair of chairs positioned before his desk as he made his way to his own seat. “Please, sit down. You were previously at the JAG office at Starbase 11, weren’t you?”
“That’s correct, sir,” Desai said, taking one of the proffered chairs. “I was only there a year, but it was good duty.” She glanced around the office before adding, “It was a planet, after all.”
Dropping into his own thickly padded chair, Reyes chuckled as he leaned forward and rested his elbows atop his desk. “Fair enough, but I think you’ll find some of the amenities here will help compensate for not being able to breathe fresh air. As for the work you’ll be doing, this station’s at the edge of Federation territory. New colonies, new trade routes, new friends andnew enemies. You’ll have your hands full from both the Starfleet and the civilian side of things.”
And that’s just the regular, everyday stuff.
Desai cleared her throat. “Actually, sir, it’s something along those lines that’s brought me to see you this morning.” She paused, using a stylus to tap the data slate that now rested in her lap. “My office has received a few complaints from some of the station’s civilian merchants who will be operating retail venues in Stars Landing. It seems you reassigned several cargo and administration areas that had been designated for them and reallocated them for Starfleet use.”
“That’s correct,” Reyes replied, offering a single nod, “though substitute facilities were allocated elsewhere in the station.”
“Smaller facilities,” Desai countered, “and located farther away from Stars Landing.”
Reyes shrugged. “The larger facilities they originally had were deemed necessary for security reasons.”
“May I ask what those reasons might be, sir?” Desai asked.
“You may ask to your heart’s content, Captain,” the commodore said, “but I’m afraid the answers involve classified security matters.” The areas in question, located within the station’s secondary hull, had been reclassified as administrative and support spaces, at least according to the internal schematics and other unclassified records. In truth, that entire section was in the process of being reconfigured to serve as a secure research facility in which a team of specialists would operate in secret. Each member of the team would be listed on the starbase crew roster as serving in a variety of roles and responsibilities throughout the station. In truth, they would be working almost exclusively to study the Taurus Meta-Genome, as well as examining and testing any data or other materials that might be acquired during their investigation of the mysterious and highly complex strain of artificially engineered DNA. Indeed, Reyes had already received and approved a request by the captain of the U.S.S. Sagittarius— another of the vessels attached to the station to provide ship-based support—to conduct a survey mission on the second planet in the distant Traelus system, which apparently was home to newly discovered samples of the meta-genome.
How about that,the commodore mused.
As for the team’s true purpose and even the existence of the clandestine facility, already dubbed “the Vault” by the officer overseeing its construction, those would remain closely guarded secrets, hidden from anyone without a direct “need-to-know.” This included Captain Rana Desai.
“A few of the merchants said you were rude,” Desai said.
Frowning, Reyes replied, “I told them that I realized this reshuffling of assignments might be an inconvenience to them, and thanked them for their cooperation.”