Engineering Control

A high-tech yet overburdened engineering control center hummed with activity. LCARS schematics of Hecate Station flickered with red warnings, alerting the crew to structural stress points near the promenade. The room was filled with the low hum of consoles, the occasional beep of sensor alarms, and the clatter of engineers working at their stations.

Focused on the work in front of her, Yozria Deem frowned at the incoming alert that flashed onto her console. The urgency was evident, and a feeling of dread settled in as the alarms displayed exactly what she had feared.

“I’m going to kill the previous team that worked here,” she muttered, grabbing her tools with forceful precision. She turned toward her assistant. “Istrati, with me. We’ve got a dangerous structural integrity drop on the promenade. It needs our attention.”

Varujan Istrati barely looked up from his console, irritation clear in his voice. “But I’m already busy with the lower decks…”

Yozria was already striding toward the main door. “NOW.” She didn’t bother looking over her shoulder, but the sound of hurried footsteps behind her told her Varujan had fallen in line. She could hear more engineers rushing to join them as Varujan called out instructions to assemble a response team.

“Istrati, run a diagnostic while we’re in transit,” Yozria ordered as they stepped into the turbolift.

Tapping rapidly on his PADD, Varujan ran the necessary scans. “Confirmed, Commander. Primary support beams show signs of prolonged metal fatigue.”

“F*ck,” Yozria exhaled. The list of failures on this station grew longer by the day. In her opinion, Hecate Station was ripe for decommissioning if this kept up.

She tapped her combadge. “Deem to Operations. Tell me we have resources and materials incoming. I need them now.”

A crackle, then: “This is Alavidze. The Ukiah just left after the last cargo drop and is en route for another pickup. We have some of your requested supplies and can send those to Engineering as soon as possible, but we’ve only got one ship handling logistics right now.”

Yozria clenched her jaw in frustration. Everything on this forsaken station worked against her. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to refocus. “Alright. Get it done. Deem out.”

The line cut. She turned to Varujan as the turbolift hummed, bringing them closer to the failing section.

“Get a site inspection going. We need to know if this is localized, or if a cascading failure is imminent.”

Varujan nodded firmly, already pulling up sensor data on his tricorder.

Promenade

A bustling section of the promenade, where Starfleet officers mixed uneasily with civilians and independent traders. The area appeared functional, but upon closer inspection, the bulkheads were misaligned, stress fractures spiderwebbed across the deck plating, and overhead structural beams vibrated slightly with every heavy footstep.

Tamaz Alavidze arrived on-site, already directing engineers to deploy emergency stabilization measures. He walked over to where Varujan and Yozria stood near the damaged section.

“The damage is worse than expected,” Tamaz observed, frowning. He gestured toward a nearby support beam, where three engineers were frantically working to reinforce a failing joint. “We barely got here in time. And…” he sighed, “…we seem to be missing the replacement materials that were shipped last month.”

“That’s not the only issue.” Varujan crossed his arms, scanning a structural report on his tricorder. “Fractures indicate multiple sections could fail within hours. We need more personnel, fast.”

Tamaz glanced at the surrounding civilians, noting the hushed conversations and wary glances.

“Well, not to pile on, but local merchants noticed these issues weeks ago,” Tamaz added. “Their complaints were either ignored or lost in bureaucratic limbo.” He gestured subtly toward a cluster of shopkeepers whispering among themselves, shaking their heads. “And they’re not happy about Starfleet’s sudden interest in fixing things.”

Yozria finished welding a plating reinforcement into place and sighed. “Shit. I knew things were bad, but this is ridiculous.”

She turned to Istrati. “Get more engineers here. Pull them from the lower decks if you have to.”

Before Istrati could move, a civilian hesitated nearby, glancing nervously at them.

Yozria rolled her eyes. “I’m not the best person for this. What’s wrong?”

The man jumped slightly, clearly not expecting to be noticed. Yozria straightened as Istrati walked away to rally reinforcements, while Tamaz remained nearby.

“Come on. Spill it out,” she urged, arms crossed.

The man looked around, as if he was afraid of being overheard.

“Certain… people,” he muttered, voice low, “have access to the replacement materials.”

Tamaz stepped forward, sensing Yozria’s growing frustration.

“Thank you for informing us,” Tamaz said diplomatically. “Do you know who has them?”

The merchant hesitated, then whispered a few more details before quickly walking away.

Tamaz exhaled and turned to Yozria. “It’s the Syndicate.”

Yozria’s eyes narrowed. “Security was already on their heels after the gambling den bust. Now they’re stealing our repair materials?”

She turned to her team. “Emergency containment plan, now.”

She glanced at Tamaz. “Get the civilians out of our hair so we can avoid a disaster.”

As the engineers rushed to work, she muttered, “We’ll deal with the Syndicate later.”

Engineering Control

Back in Engineering Control, a holographic projection of the station flickered before them. Multiple areas displayed signs of structural weaknesses.

“We have clear evidence the Syndicate controls station supplies,” Yozria said, waving a PADD. “We can’t make permanent repairs without addressing the black-market supply chains draining our materials.”

Tamaz nodded grimly. “Cargo arrives, then disappears within weeks. And the rest? Delayed, rerouted, or stolen. We’re running in circles.”

A low growl came from behind them.

Lieutenant K’Nala, the Caitian , stepped forward, taking the PADD from Yozria.

“I underrrstand your frustration, Commanderrr,” K’Nala purred. “I will address this with the Captain. What can you do for now?”

Yozria shrugged, rubbing her temples. “A full station-wide structural survey. But without resources, I can’t offer a permanent solution.”

K’Nala nodded firmly.

“Do it. You have full support from the Command Team. I will handle the rest.”

As K’Nala strode out, Yozria exhaled. The issues were acknowledged, but not resolved.

Lower Decks – Syndicate Warehouse

A backroom meeting in a Syndicate-controlled warehouse. Stacks of stolen station parts, repair kits, and industrial materials filled the dimly lit space.

A well-dressed Syndicate lieutenant leaned back in his chair, grinning smugly.

“My good man,” he said, gesturing to a merchant, “I offer you the best materials in the sector. Federation-grade, no less.”

He took a sip of his drink.

“The price won’t drop, but…” His smile widened. “You won’t find a better deal.”

The merchant nodded slowly, accepting the offer.

As the call ended, a lower-ranking Syndicate enforcer shifted uncomfortably. “Will this not backfire on us?”

The lieutenant chuckled.

“No,” he said smoothly. “Because when this station begins to crumble, who else will they have to rely on?”