Transfer of Power

Posted on Sun 26th Oct, 2025 @ 12:47am by Purulence Addams & Ignatius Collins
Edited on on Sun 26th Oct, 2025 @ 12:50am

599 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: From The Ashes
Location: Collins-Griffin office, Tivoli Gardens
Timeline: During 'It Begins to Spread, Part 2'

Ignatius Colling leaned back in his office chair while discussing hiring candidates with his wife, Purulence, when the announcement came over the Starbase's communication system.

Attention all ships, attention all ships! All ships in dock with warp cores are requested to connect to starbase power systems to supply needed energy for powering vital starbase systems. Please coordinate with Station Ops to facilitate this. Ops out.

"I've noticed some recent power fluctuations," Purulence said. "I wonder what's going on?" She sipped from a teacup and then set it down on Ignatius' desk.

"It's probably connected to all those Xir'Kai refugees they're taking in," Ignatius said. "You mind if I loan out the Grace?"

Purulence smiled. "It's your ship, my love, not mine. Go ahead."

"Just thought I'd check with The Boss, first," Ignatius said, chuckling. He entered a message to Station Ops:
This is Ignatius Collins of Collins-Griffin Mining. I've been informed that you need starship engines to jack into the station's grid to supply additional power. If that's the case, I have a heavy-haul mining craft I can donate to the effort. Please let me know.

Ops sounded busy; all sorts of conversations were taking place in the background, muffled by the sound filter. A few moments later, a clear voice called out, "Yes, but have them power Ticonderoga. We are playing with lightning already, with all the hookups and power sources, as it is."

Ignatius switched to audio. "Ops, this is Collins. Requesting confirmation. Connect power to the Ticonderoga? Over."

The confirmation came immediately. Ignatius sent a further message that the instructions had been confirmed and would be followed.

"It sounds like a beehive up there," Ignatius said to Purulence. He switched to a different comm channel. "Collins to Stafford."

A pleasant male voice with an Earth Midwestern drawl came over the channel. Stafford here.

"Mack, I need you to move the Grace into position near the Ticonderoga and use the Grace's warp core to feed power to Ticonderoga."

Ours not to reason why; ours but to do and die. On it, sir. Stafford over and out.

"I knew there was a reason why I hired him," Ignatius said with a satisfied look.

"Because I told you to hire him." Purulence batted her eyelashes at him.

"The man appreciates poetry. He knew what Nameless Grace was from, the moment I told him the ship's name. Didn't even raise an eyebrow. In fact, he seemed tickled pink."

Purulence rolled her eyes. "The level five pilot's license was also a plus."

"That, too." Ignatius drained the dregs of coffee from his mug. "So, are you going to paint her, someday?"

"Paint the ship itself, or paint a picture of her?" Purulence asked.

"Of her, of course. Any fool in a workbee can spray-paint a ship. I want something to go on that wall right in front of me," Ignatius pointed, "so I can see her every time I sit at this desk and think of you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Purulence told him.

Ignatius gave her an innocent look. "What if I speak French?"

Purulence set down her teacup mid-lift. "You do drive a hard bargain, sir."

Ignatius grinned. "J'essaye, ma cherie."

She winced. "I love you to death, but your accent would turn butter rancid."

He leaned across his desk, took her hand in his, and brushed his lips over it. "But you do love me, and that's what matters."

 

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