Two Weeks Too Late

Posted on Thu Sep 7th, 2023 @ 11:16pm by Lieutenant Zara Ghemora

801 words; about a 4 minute read

CHIEF INTELLIGENCE OFFICER'S OFFICE

Personal Log, Lieutenant Zara Ghemora, Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer, USS Lionheart, Stardate 22309.07.

This is usually frowned upon for Intelligence Officers, but, barring me revealing something to the Ship's Counsellor I am not supposed to, this seems like my only option. Having been dropped off over two weeks ago, I had not expected to find myself as the Only Intelligence Officer onboard the Lionheart. I had been warned that the ship's assignment was 'not the usual kind of mission', but they could have prepared me a little better than that.

There was no Chief to report to, nor anyone to really give me the tour. My meeting with the XO had been so brief I don't think there would have been the time to steep, let alone drink a cup of tea. Besides getting my Quarters Assignment; a one-room hovel that is so small and generic I was concerned I had been mistaken before asking the Computer - who has a name, of course - and was told that it was indeed my assigned quarters. Even though this ship is bigger than my last one, somehow my room got smaller. I shouldn't complain. I've lived in worse before.

Anyway, Quarters aside, I learned that my primary work area would be ten decks below at the end of a long corridor that seemed comfortably under-lit. Besides the SCIF, there's the constant hum of the Deflector Array, the upper access door to the Engineering Computer Core, Workpod Storage, the Secondary Armory which might be helpful if we're ever boarded by Vulcans, the Aft Airlock should I need to throw myself out of it at some point, and, finally, the Intel Chief's Office…

Apparently, it was being used for storage or they had just tossed anything marked for the Intelligence Department in there and closed the door. I was surprised there was space for the doors to close behind me when I arrived on my first day. It has taken me over two weeks to get it almost entirely cleared out. Most of it was PADD after PADD of irrelevant Intel Reports, all of which had to be double-checked to have been scanned before being taken to the special Recycler to be destroyed. Besides some crates of unmarked surveillance and reconnaissance equipment that I stashed in the Secondary Armory, which required me to put in three requests to get the proper clearances to access, the rest had all been junk. It was as if every engineer on this ship had decided to store their extra cables in there, yet none wanted to claim them, so to the Recycler they went.

Only have a few more containers left, but at least I've managed to clear enough out to leave just one last stack in the corner. The chair could be better, but at least I have a desk…Not that I have received a single Intelligence Report in the last two weeks. I've asked the Assistant Chief Security Officer about it, but apparently none have been received. I'm unsure whether he's keeping them for himself or not, given that he's the officer I'm to report to given the lack of any other Intelligence or Strategic Department Personnel, but I'm going to take him at his word. He comes highly recommended and credentialled, despite his past being quite hazy and almost appearing to be fraudulent. It says he's not Vulcan, but he looks pretty Vulcan, yet all of his stuff checks out.

I've yet to find time to really talk or meet anyone. It seems they are all much busier than I am. Always rushing this way or having to go do this or that. Could make one wonder they don't want to be seen talking to the Cardassian. The same thing happened on my last ship, at first, but at least there there were other Intelligence Officers who eventually vouched for me. Here… Not so much. Might try the Lounge and see if I can strike up a conversation with the Bartender, though my previous attempt to enter drew plenty of looks and more than a comfortable amount of whispers. Still, I hear they have Kanar in stock. Would be nice to have a taste of… Yeah…

Well, I should get back to going through these last crates and scanning and logging whatever I find in them before finally being able to call this office a proper office. Knowing my luck, a new Intelligence Chief will arrive just in time for me to finally relax and put my feet up, kicking me out to wander aimlessly around the ship until I get orders or some intel to analyze. At least the SCIF was clean. Doesn't even look like anyone has ever been in it…

…Lieutenant Zara Ghemora, sighing off.

End Personal Log.

 

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