Intro for Mission 3

{{OOC: I'll post this into an actual mission thread once we're further along in the current mission. This is just a bit of background so those of you who've never served with her can get used to Virkov's style }}

ON

Bridge, USS Balmoral
10 January, 2387, 0600 hours

“Dropping out of warp and entering the system now, sir,” the young woman at helm said.

Rear Admiral Erszebet Virkov stood from the command seat, tugging firmly on the ends of her sleeves, and walked a few paces towards the helm and operations consoles. It had been a week at warp 8.5, all the aging Ambassador Class Balmoral was able to pull off without overloading her engines. The ship had been assigned to a backwater decommissioning outpost, a naval reserve facility, to spend the rest of her operational lifetime giving way to her newer advanced sisters to galavant around the stars.

That backwater station was about to become a hotbed of activity.

“As expected, sir, Providence is hailing.”

“Probably should have sent them that warning, Admiral,” Commander Fosters, the temporary executive officer for this cruise quipped.

“Quite. Put them onscreen,” Virkov replied.

“Uh..sir, they’re broadcasting audio only. I have Lieutenant Commander Amanda Greystone.”

With a sharp inhalation, Virkov responded “Very well. Patch her through.”

“Attention U.S.S. Balmoral: This is Lieutenant Commander Amanda Greystone, Commanding Officer of Providence Fleet Yards. We do not have you scheduled to arrive for another seven days. Please state the nature of your early arrival, and the reason you flew into my system like a bat out of hell.”

“Commander Greystone, this is Admiral Virkov. Please explain why you are broadcasting audio only. Does this...antiquated station of yours come sans video capability?”

There was a moment of awkward silence before the reply of, “Ah, yes sir, actually. We had to take video offline as well as a number of other low level systems in order to keep life support running to the main pod.”

“The...main...pod? Commander, do you mean to tell me that only one section of your base is currently inhabitable?”

“Yes sir,” the woman replied. “Two pods and several decks in the main structure are uninhabited and frankly uninhabitable. In fact, that’s the way it’s been for the better part of the last three years...We’ve all confined ourselves to just the one section to save on the power drain and the manpower to repair the others.”

Virkov signalled for the channel to be muted. When the ensign at operations nodded, she turned to Fosters, and said “Well?”

“We knew it was going to be pretty bad, sir. A fleet reserve storage doesn’t exactly warrant having a maximum capacity. Really a skeleton crew as a caretaker force is all that would be needed way out here.”

“I think the Klingons are about to prove you wrong Fosters,” Virkov said with a smirk. “Unmute. Commander, I’m afraid the situation has somewhat changed. Do you have any idea what’s been going on in your area recently?”

“Only the comm chatter we hear. With all due respect sir, I think this conversation may be one that’s best had in private without the prying ears of the crewmen and petty officers sitting two feet from me. Permission to board?”

“Granted,” Virkov said. “Meet me in the Observation Lounge in four minutes.”

As she turned and walked towards the Lounge, she paused for a moment, and said “Commander Fosters, you have the bridge. Continue course to Providence and maintain station keeping orbit upon arrival.”

“Aye sir.”

~*~

Commander Greystone sat directly across from Admiral Virkov, slowly pouring over the information on several different PADDS.

“We’d heard about Hobus, sir, but I had no idea of the ripple effect it would cause. Now Kehyl and his house are sending surgical strike teams across the border into Romulan space?” Greystone asked.

“They’re not the only house. It appears many of the minor houses are out to get themselves a bit of glory in the wake of this tragedy for the Romulans,” Virkov responded plainly. “We’ve had report of at least five different houses sending their assets across the border, simply to ‘test the waters’ as it were.”

Greystone let the PADD drop to the table in disgust, and rhetorically asked “Where’s the honor in kicking your foe while he’s down? Isn’t in the Klingon way to stand defiantly in the face of overwhelming odds and meet your enemy on even keel?”

“That’s the question we’re all asking, Commander. But that is not why I’ve come. I’m sure you’ve surmised that there is no real reason for an admiral to visit a backwater station along an unimportant border. I’m certain you’ve also surmised that this border is no longer an unimportant one. To put it plainly, Commander, we’re taking over your station. The crew of the Balmoral is entirely made up of engineers from SCE. They’ll be pouring over every last bit of Providence to bring her as close to operational capacity as possible.”

“Well, that’ll be a welcome change sir,” Greystone said. “This base probably hasn’t seen operational capacity since the Khitomer Accords were signed.”

“You, Commander, will no longer be in command of the station. Before you react, listen to the rest of what I have to say. You’ve recently received a vessel in reserve. The USS Appomattox. Are you familiar with this vessel?”

With a stern expression, Greystone replied “Aye sir, she’s an Excelsior. Enterprise variant.”

“Yes, that is correct. Your current staffing aboard Providence should provide ample enough to maintain a skeleton crew until you can get the Appomattox to Starbase 126, where you will receive the rest of your full complement, and report to Deep Space Six for further assignment. You are also being promoted to the rank of Commander.”

“Sir?”

“You are an engineer, Commander. You are a good engineer. We need more of those assisting the Romulans along the neutral zone, not to mention keeping up on our own assets in that area. There is a world of work to be done out there. You will depart at 0600 hours tomorrow morning. Do you understand your orders?”

“Aye sir, I understand them perfectly,” Greystone replied.

“Smile Commander, you’re finally getting a ship,” Virkov said with a stony expression. “Fair winds and following seas. Dismissed.”

As Greystone stood and exited the observation lounge, Virkov shook her head in mild disbelief. She couldn’t fault the woman for the condition of the station, but she’d also held out a small hope that she’d had the foresight to cannibalize some of the reserve ships to keep the entire station running.

She pulled up a PADD and sighed heavily. She was going to make several commanding officers very unhappy today...

“Bridge, get me a secure line to the USS Rhode Island.”