Of course there was no need to physically take the reports to the Chief of Ops. A simple few taps on the computer console and the reports would have been sent. In the spirit of getting to know her colleagues more, however, Heriah decided to take the reports LT Weld assigned to her and physically walk them all the way to Ops.

Delivery was quite simple. Who required more time off, a reduced workload, more time seeing a counselor/psychiatrist, more time cross-training, a clean bill of mental health, etc. and it all came down to only six names thus concluding Heriah’s report only two minutes and fifteen seconds after commencing her report. Again, she walked all that way for that. Of course, Heriah was giddy and was glad to have taken the time to deliver the report in person. The opportunity got her more facetime with other colleagues, people she passed in the corridors, and she got to say “hello” to all the people of Ops. Though Cynndle was not present when she arrived as he must have been off putting out a fire, so to speak, or cross-training himself. Of course, Cynndle was one of the names in her report and the one she advised continued time cross-training about the station as he dealt with personal issues stemming from a case of PCOS.

The chief of Ops did not need to know more.

Stepping off the turbolift into Ops Cynndle stifled a yawn. He was enjoying the cross-training as it gave it a much better understanding of the station but had to admit it was exhausting. He just finished a short shift in the shipyards to get the lay of the land there before taking on more responsibilities. Walking over to his console he dismissed the ensign who had been manning it, “Anything I should be aware of?”

The ensign shook her head, “No Lieutenant” as she stood and walked to the auxiliary station.

Smiling Cynndle nodded in appreciation before taking a seat and pulling up the log of activities for the last view hours giving it a quick scan.

Concluding her report, Heriah made her exit and returned to the main area within Ops, littered with desks, personnel, PADDs, spare parts, and work to do. Not to mention one other bit of Ops that was not present when she arrived originally.

“Cyn…I mean LT Oin’sun,” she gave a quick wave.

Scrolling through list of items confirmed that noting of note had taken place giving him a sense of relief. Hearing his name he looked up and saw Heriah outside the chiefs office. ‘Wonder what she is doing up here’, he quickly thought to himself as he waves back and smiles.

“Ensign Rex, how are you? What brings you up to my neck of the woods?”

“Oh,” she wanted to be called just ‘Heriah’ but they were all in uniform and all on duty.

‘Heh, cannot escape that here.’

She had to just accept Ensign Rex in this case.

“…just delivering some reports to your chief. I thought to deliver them in person. It gives a more personal feel about it than sending everything through the computer.” She displayed her PADD as she finished. “Technology is great and all but it has a way of keeping people apart and from interacting with each other. Never going to meet anyone if you stare at a console all day right?”

Heriah looked around and saw a few that appeared the type to be most comfortable staring at consoles all day and night.

Laughing at that Cynndle nods in agreement. “Sadly we have to spend alot of time staring at consoles but there are some perks of the jobs, exploring strange new worlds, meeting new civilizations, blah, blah blah.” He says with a smile.

Without pause he continued “So just got back from doing my introduction to the shipyards and am do a break. You have 15 minutes for a coffee? I could actually use advice as well. The viewing gallery up here is pretty impressive.”

“Was planning on a break after delivering these reports anyway. Do lead the way.” Heriah looked about the office area once more while Cynndle wrapped up his work.

Cynndle stands, nodding to the ensign auxiliary station, “Will be back shortly, can you keep an eye on things?”

Turning towards the turbolift he leads the way and pauses just before stepping one, gesturing for Heriah to step on before him.

A few minutes later they find themselves in one of the large viewing galleries that SB Bravo has, its large window letting people watch the starships, both federation and civilian alike, not to mention the stunning view of Mellstoxx III itself. Walking over to the little cafe Cynndle grabs himself a Tarkalean tea before turning to Heriah, “What would you like?”

“Alle’Ke’Zonda’er white. The replicator knows what it is,” she said as she slowly stepped toward the viewport to gaze out upon Mellstoxx III. She gazed upon its beauty. There was an electrical storm hanging in the atmosphere and streaking strikes of lightning stretched about the sky.

But the thought came to her that those white bolts were actually green. Greenish electrical discharges stretching this way and that across the outer hull of a Borg Sphere. There came a voice, no…voices…all speaking, all at once and those voices soon morphed into a horrific and encroaching whir or spinning metal.

Stepping up beside Heriah, Cynndle glanced over at her as she stared down at the planet. Pausing for a moment and admiring it himself he cannot help but feel that views like this help to put things in perspective. “Mellstoxx III really is a beautiful planet when you see it from up here. Puts things in perspective for me at times and reminds me how vast space really is…” Cynndle’s says and trails off as his eyes drift back to Heriah.

Heriah snapped out of the thought as Cynndle appeared by her side, Starbase Bravo returning all around her. And, as a slight tingly but fiery sensation mitigated from beneath her spots she reached for the white tea Cynndle held out to her.

Handing the Alle’Ke’Zonda’er white to Heriah Cynndle cannot help but notice her spots, ‘Are her spots a bit reddish…likely just my imagination…but maybe…DAMNIT DON’T STARE!’. Turning back to the view he takes a sip of his tea.

“So things going well? Feeling a bit better after the other day? The fight took a lot out of you?” Pausing as she nodded while attempting to sip at her tea, he then spoke again quickly, “You will be happy to know I have started the cross-training and had orientation in the shipyards, I will be working with Ensign Nilah Virahl I think.”

“That is great news,” Heriah said as she turned her attention to Cynndle. “To be honest, your name was in my report to your LT. Only to continue things as they are. I did not give him any details of course. As for Nilah, I’ve actually met the…”

‘Unjoined lowlife.’

“…engign…ensigneer…Engineer Ensign. Wow.” She looked at her tea as though attempting to deduce if something else was in it. Really, she was fighting against Rex’s intruding thoughts. “I am sure she will prove an adequate engineering tutor.” She looked back out upon the planet, slowly spinning before them. “Back in the office, you mentioned needing some advice?”

Watching Heriah get properly tongue tied Cynndle couldn’t help but laugh. “I like ensgineer myself.”

Looking back out the window he took a sip of his tea, it was just the right temperature to drink while still being on the hotter side.

“Yeah, I don’t recall if I mentioned it the other day but there has been an increased amount of power failures on the station. Nothing major” he says as he gestures with his right hand “but power junctions shorting out before they should which messes with the internal sensors and at times the environmental systems.”

“I have been trying to figure out why and a few days ago it changed. It wasn’t failures anymore but actual malicious damage to the power junctions. An ensign from reactor control, Lihran, Romulan, nice guy though, and I, tracked it down.”

“We aren’t sure why it is happening. Not sure if whoever is doing this is intentionally trying to disrupt the internal sensors, we have had no reports of criminal activity during the sensor disruptions. It is just odd…Not sure if I need advice or another perspective on why, so I can figure out who…” he says with a little frustration in his voice. “And before you ask, the chief knows about this and security, but it is a big station with A LOT of power junction and relay stations…”

Heriah held a swig of her tea as she listened and pondered what Cynndle was telling her.

“Hmm,” swallowed, allowing the warm tea to aid her thoughts to flow more smoothly. “A small-time criminal perhaps; someone possibly auditioning before a larger crime syndicate by seeing how much damage, how long they can disrupt and how far they can or are willing to go. And what bigger target than the Federation and a starbase out here on the frontier?” Heriah shrugged. “Just a guess really. This could even be a rebellious teenager trying to impress a girl or get in cahoots with any of the local gangs among the civilian population. By my count, there are three gangs. They have not proven themselves violent or disruptive, at least, not yet. And with civilians and refugees coming and going, I would definitely recommend getting a security cadet or ensign, or perhaps someone enlisted with a background in law enforcement to keep an eye and ear out.” Heriah finished her theory and turned her attention back to Cynndle.

“As you say, they have kept the disruptiveness on the downlow and have kept higher command from having to get involved. Your perpetrator is either very smart and well equipped or just trying to cause trouble and is very lucky at not getting caught yet.”

She tilted her head to one side, “small-time criminal auditioning for a contract,” then the other, “rebellious teenager trying to impress. Based on my experience…”

‘MY experience.’

“…I believe you may be looking for either of those.”

Finishing his cup Cynndle turned back to the view and watched the electrical storm. “It is almost like you read my mind. Though I was unaware of three possible gangs. My concern is that it could be a small-time criminal as you said but I hadn’t considered the auditioning part, if it is a rebellious teenager I am a little less worried.”

“Well, one rebellious teenager can turn into many rebellious teenagers,” she said. “And teenagers, especially the refugees, will always form cliques and those cliques will always turn into gangs. Thusfar, I have identified those calling themselves the Bravo Boys, the Space Girls, and the Friends of Ferenginar and you do not even need to be Ferengi to join, just vow to exploit whomever whenever and wherever you can.”

“Not the most inventive gang names…but they work…” he starts before pausing and turning back to Heriah refocusing on the actual issue. “As I mentioned security is aware of the issue and on the lookout but I will have a chat with the chief and security about these gangs; maybe look into it a bit myself. It will also be useful to see if we can approach the academy coordinator and see if we can get some of the security cadets to assist. That is a good idea, thanks.”

Both Heriah and Cynndle went back to looking out at Mellstoxx III and at the storm slowly venturing forth about the sky.

“Starfleet,” she said with something of a sigh, “we trek out here to explore but our work is never done.”

“There is always something it seems,” Cynndle spoke, “let’s just hope that it doesn’t escalate any further.”