Attention to Detail
13 Mar 2018Rex Snipes
Tchernobog 3Idle hands are the Devil's workshop.
Snipes cut the telepresence feed to Malenchenko City, Coma. If he had the time, he would be there drinking with excited friends from both sides of a drawn out dispute. Instead, he sits aboard the Mulo Sumadji as it rests docked at a paradise private port on Tchernobog 3.
Looking over his desk, Snipes realizes he still has too much to do and never enough time. He glances over several datapads with various titles displayed across their screens: "Budget Reports for Expedition Ferin Sha, Service Record for one Kazitane Da Costa, Resources for Charter in Diabak..." The stack of datapads continued.
Snipes sighed and leaned back in his chair.
Where to start.
He closed his eyes, but watched the views of several worlds flicker to life before him. In Alioth, a crimson Alliance Chieftain was being outfitted with reverse engineered guardian tech. In Diaguandri, a heavily modified pristine Fer-de-Lance receives an extremely worn old pilot's chair. Exchanges of credits at the headquarters Bank of Zaonce. He even takes in a view of the Olive Grove's entrance from the view point of a desitute vagrant across the corridor. As he watches all who come and go, he takes note of a familiar bearded patron hesitantly approaching the door.
He sighed again and opened his eyes. "Priorities."
He reached out and picked up the Federal Service Record of Kazitane Da Costa. Snipes thought about events that had transpired over the last several months and began to make amendments. "...It is my recommendation that by his exemplary service and command during the campaign in Eta Cassiopeiae, Kazitane Da Costa be meritoriously promoted to the rank and responsibility of Brigadier General."
Snipes logged the record and sent it to the appropriate parties, as well as attached the Diabak Charter to the report before sending it to Da Costa. "I trust you will know what to do with these resources when the time comes."
Deadeye leaned back and looked again at the datapads scattered in front of him.
This is not what I set out to do.
He stood up to his feet and shuffled over to the nearest porthole. As he looked out upon the landing pad and the palm trees, he caught the reflection of his son's stuffed tiger under a shelf along the wall behind him.
He began to sob as he unconsciously caressed his sidearm in his hand.
So close, yet so far.