The Day of the Comet - Part II
Posted on Sat May 30, 2026 @ 5:45am by Commander Billie Jo Rhodes & Bastille LeGrange & Lieutenant Commander Jason Haines & Lieutenant Commander Curtis Thibideaux & Lieutenant Commander Karzen Son of Arjune, Son of Ragan MD, MPH & Lieutenant Annora Tessaro & Lieutenant JG Ace Cannon & Senior Chief Petty Officer Alexander Rylan EMT-P & Chief Petty Officer Babatunde Oladele EMT-P, MPH & Civilian Livia Sagan & Civilian Thavas Th'Omtala
Edited on on Wed Jun 3, 2026 @ 7:32am
1,654 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission: Jubilee
(Security Deck)
“Morning, Krivol. Deilgur.” Annora greeted the security staff upon entering. “How was the night shift?”
Ensign Deilgur had the report ready. “Five passenger ships, three freighters, and two news teams. Otherwise, the current is steady, Lieutenant.”
The security chief smiled. Deilgur’s species was deeply attuned to their homeworld, so their idioms were almost always nature-based. “Glad to hear it, Ensign.”
She stepped into the situation room for the full shift brief, then moved into the corridor to watch the changeover. The hallway hummed as nearly half the station’s security personnel streamed down the two parallel passages flanking the armory. Vests were donned, gear was drawn from one of six equipment windows, and officers crossed straight across the hall into the briefing room.
When the last person entered, Annora checked the chrono. Efficient, even with the increased headcount. The room fell silent the moment she reached the podium.
“This is our first twelve-hour shift of the festival surge,” she began. “It means longer hours for everyone, especially us. We’re the station’s eyes and ears. Four teams will stand down each shift, and we’ll release others early when the mission allows. Once things return to normal, everyone gets an extra comp day.”
A visible wave of relief swept the room. There was no reason to burn out her people just because the station’s population had temporarily ballooned.
“Our main focus is the civilian sectors, especially the Promenade. Sensitive areas are restricted to authorized personnel only, but I still want occasional eyes on them. Solve disputes at the lowest level, but don’t hesitate to call for backup. Trust your training. Trust your instincts. I’ll see you on patrol, and at the Dragon for a victory celebration when this is all over. Dismissed.”
As the teams filed toward the turbolifts, Petty Officer Tihr approached.
“Bravo Team is staged in Echo Bay. Epsilon and Gulf are already on patrol, they’ll swap halfway. All eight DART teams are happy to pull regular shifts so extra line teams can get a full day off.”
Annora preferred keeping her specialists in reserve, but every one of them had come up through the ranks. They knew how valuable a day off was during a surge. “Thanks, Tihr. I appreciate it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check something in the Arboretum.”
[The Evil Librarian Bookshop]
Bastille packed up most of her books and stored them in the upper room of the bookshop and filled the two lower floors with books on astronomy, mythology, and stories about comets. Anything that would interest people coming to see a comet. She still had a section for children and a section for serious astronomers, but most of the main floor was devoted to books that would interest the people who came to seek what luck the comet might provide.
She added some blankets to her office in case she wasn't able to get back to her room with all the crowds here. At least she had a replicator and food shops to keep her happy.
Jason tapped his communicator, "Haines to Tessaro. Wanted to give you a status update. I have twenty of my crew on station and four on planet. Do you have all your points covered. I can lend a few if you need them."
While she had all her points covered as best as possible considering the circumstances, Annora wasn't about to turn down an offer of assistance.
=/\=We'll take the extra help if you can spare the manpower. Will probably use them to help sweep for folks camping where they shouldn't be. We've temporarily consolidated some cargo bays to free others up as overflow lodging. Try and direct people there. Have your volunteers report to the Security desk for more info, I'll give them a heads up.=/\=
"Sounds like a plan", Jason replied. "I'll send them your way. Put them where you need them."
The low buzz of conversation, hum of electronics and whirl of activity reminded Curtis of a dance. He’d opened the Strat/Op Command and Control Center on Deep Space Five to deal with the influx of ships moving about the system two days ago and he’d been mostly living here since.
With the comet’s impending passage through the system, nearly a thousand craft of all weight classes were moving about the system at any given time. That included arrivals and the stations patrol craft. The stations felt her resources being stretched as fighter command and the patrol ships were being kept in space nearly round the clock, only pausing for necessary maintenance and so the crews could get some rest.
Rest was a figurative word. Fighter and patrol command crews were becoming exhausted. Maintenance crews were running ragged, even after dragooning crews from the ship yards to rotate through. Security was showing the strain as well, though that wasn’t Curtis’s problem, it was being felt on his system patrols and he’d augmented a few marines to go with the station’s cutters.
To take the stain off of station ops, Strat/Op-CnC Tempest had given the go-ahead to establish an outer limits control which screened vessels entering into the system. His teams would shuffle them into traffic patterns and stage them at five billion kilometer and one billion kilometer distances. The latter would then get picked up by station ops for final approach.
Station ops normally handled all of that, but this was keeping the traffic able space mostly clear and orderly. Customs declarations were being filed, monitored by targeting teams and then ships were being met by the equally over-worked inspectors upon docking. Ships were then moved to parking orbits at varying distances and positions to keep navigation lanes open.
Looking over his new home, Curtis took in the holo-tank once more and the myriad of moving dots that represented ships, all color coordinated and being handled by his teams. His tired brain couldn’t quite decide if he was a conductor, or a zoo keeper.
Bemused, he picked up his mug and began making the circuits, checking in on the teams with encouraging words or maybe a joke or seeing if anyone needed a break.
When this was over, he’d need a week off.
[Shuttle bay]
Five large shuttles docked, one by one, in five consecutive shuttle bays. For several minutes the shuttles powered down...and waited. Then the hatches opened and 100 individuals, all dressed like Elvis Presley, disembarked. There were Elves dressed in glittery silver jumpsuits, Elves in blue suede shoes, Cowboy Elves, young Elves, old Elves, Andorian Elves, Ferengi Elves. Indeed, most of the major species were represented. One Elvis was dressed like an Egyptian Pharaoh. Two dozen were singing--each a different song in a different key. All were heading for the promenade.
An Elvis stopped at the check in desk. "We're here for the Elvis Presley Convention and Look-Alike Contest. We have a room block somewhere. Could you help me. Help me. Please?"
The officer on duty rolled his eyes as she checked the manifest. "Yes sir." He looked at Elvis again. "Ma'am. Deck 1632. You haev a block of rooms. Just...enter your ID in the terminal and you'll get your room assignment."
"Thank you, Darlin'." With a hip roll, Elvis left the shuttle bay, followed by 99 others.
Ace watched as the Elvises disembarked. No way! he thought to himself. I've got to contact Bri about this. She's going to get a kick over it.
Karzen, Alex, and Babatunde were busy organizing equipment, supplies, and staff in Sickbay to make sure each shift would be prepared for the sharp increase in the station's population. They worked smoothly together and kept the mood light, as was their way. Whatever this latest adventure had in store for them, they would be ready... hopefully...
Thavas and Viza had set up the craft stations and additional staff members were working them, while he and Viza gave tours of the shop and the looms.
Livia, with her comet glasses moved up to Thavas and Viza and said, "I believe you have your own store. Why don't you go back to that and let a girl work a bit?"
Billy Jo never thought she'd have to lock down the repair yards. Dyson had been open for any ship in need to just show up and ask for help. But this...was unprecedented. She'd already chased off three dozen ships from using Dyson as their personal parking lot. She'd even pulled all the ships under repairs--and her own Pussycat--inside and locked the doors. Only yesterday she'd turned on the shields to further deter
squatters. They didn't need help. They didn't want to be polite. All but one felt they were owed a personal parking spot to watch the comet simply because they needed to.
Walter asked a Bolian he chased out of a supply room why he was there. His answer? Because he knew that if he ws here for the comet, he deserved it. Nobody deserves luck. They make their own.
That was the last straw for Billy Jo. Everything was locked down and no one but her team--who had decided Dyson was hte safest place to wait out the comet--and command would be allow entrance. And that way, maybe she'd get some luck of her own and finally catch up on all her paperwork and supply orders.
Jali was out on patrol, watching out for those who were trying to sleep where they wern't suupposed to, she had heard that the marines who were on the station were going to help out with security, there was one person she needed to go see and that was K'doc. her big brother.
She tapped on her combadge, K'doc, what is your location?" Jali heading in that direction.
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