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Posted on Tue Aug 23, 2022 @ 4:45am by Lieutenant Commander Elli-Navine & Crewman Myrah Zolar & Captain Toron Pax & Commander Carl Hedley & Lieutenant Commander Koolie & Lieutenant Commander Alexander Artopolis

Mission: S3 M1 Into the Targ Pit
Location: Starbase 364 Observation lounge
Timeline: Post mission 47

Captain Toron Pax stood at the bay windows that overlooked the external docking cradle that the beaten Potemkin was now being tractored into. One nacelle had been vaporised, the other was gutted. Dozens of small hull breaches riddled the primary hull and a large gash dominated the port side of the drive hull. The once white hull was now near blackened, his heart broke to see his ship broken so. Any other ship in such a state would have been written off; but thanks to the legacy of the Potemkin and their own deeds the Fleet was investing a great deal of time and resources in rebuilding and repairing her broken body.

Koolie stood a short distance away from their Captain. As the graveyard shift officer, staying up this early was playing havoc with his internal clock, so he was addressing it as he'd always been trained to: with refreshments. He balanced a glass of Fudge Flow in his elbow as he shoveled up some Puff with his fork. The chocolate overload had been inspired by the blackened hull they were spectating. He dragged the fork from his mouth, making sure to completely clean it on the way out.

"Captain, you seem down," Koolie gesticulated with his fork, "do you want some of this? I could get you something else, if you'd prefer. Something to stimulate the serotonin?"

The young Andorian science Ensign from nightshift, one Myra Zolar, twitched an antennae and then crunched on her own fig bar. She'd also subscribed to her senior officer's school of snacking. It had seemed like a good train to get on. "It does keep the blood sugars up, sirs." She said politely after she'd swallowed. No one needed their military operating on low blood sugar.

There was a soft sobbing coming up the corridor, pausing intermittently with deep breaths and the honking of a nose into a kerchief. The little engineer was smeared head to toe in plasma smoke, triaxial grease, leaky bio gel, and various machine room filings; Her hair was matted and the clean patch beneath where she had been sporting goggles only made it the more obvious what a wreck she was. Internally she was worse than she was externally, as made clear by her moaning and the generous amounts of snot she was expelling. "My baby, my poor baby," She bemoaned as she came to where her Captain stood. "She'll never be the same!"

Pax couldn't help to agree, The Potemkin had been through so very much. This last battle had been one of the hardest he had ever been through. He articulated some of this with "Hell, even the Borg hadn't managed to stop the Potemkin like this" He had been in command when the Borg had invaded a decade ago, his then Second Officer, Ajani Carter had took over when they had been hit and won.

He sighed "Fleet is repairing her," he said trying to believe that his ship would be the same. "And I know you will make sure they put her back together the right way!" He nudged his Chief Engineer...


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