UFP Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization- "From the Desk of JP Mossane"
BoI- Main Page |
Star Fleet Library |
SF Engineering |
SF Intelligence |
SF JAG |
SF Marine Corps |
SF Medical |
SF Records |
UFP Dept. of Colonial Affairs | UFP Educational, Scientific and Cultural Org.
WRITING GROUPS: Star Fleet: PRIME (SD- 2427) | Star Fleet: ORIGINS (SD- 2261)- DEFUNCT | Star Fleet: BEYOND (SD- 2771)- DEFUNCT
"Damn," fretted Dr. J.P. Mossane. He was a small, mousy bit of a man, all of a hundred and sixty centimeters and a slim sixtyish kilos. Clad in a dark pantsuit that had once made him a dashing figure, he stared in shock at his screen.
"Sir?" asked his assistant hopefully. She was a young woman with dark hair bound so tightly against her scalp that it seemed to be a part of it. She was a young doctorate, barely out of the university system.
"Karna," he started, swallowing because of the dryness of his mouth. "How long have you been working here?"
"About two weeks, sir," she said, shifting her weight from one foot the other. At twenty-eight, she could be poised when she wanted to be, but at the moment she was feeling as nervous as a high school senior waiting to hear what university she'd gotten into.
"Only two weeks," sighed Mossane. "Karna, do you realize how big the log is of unprocessed data from new worlds?"
"No, sir," answered Karna fearfully. She stopped
"You're supposed to ask me," reminded J.P. He leaned back in his chair. "Nonetheless, I will tell you. Two thousand three hunrdred and twelve."
"Entries, Dr. Mossane?"
He nodded solemnly. He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose and frowned.
"I... I think, sir, that I'm going to faint."
"Sit down, then," retorted the venerable doctor. "And don't lock your knees."
With relief, Karna took the visitor's chair in the Secretary's large office. It could be worse, she surmised, taking a job at the UFPESCO. She'd studied foreign cultures for most of her adult life, taking prize after prize. But travel didn't agree with her, so here she was on Luna, within short transporter range of Earth and another short hop from Memory Prime. Her office, small as it was, was cozy, and the library itself was cavernous. Yes, she could do much worse.
J.P. Mossane was a squirt of a man, but brilliant, she nodded to herself. He'd done years of research as a professor to keep at the top of his trade, and had finally accepted the full time position of Secretary of the well-known institution of UFPESCO. He was doing something needed and necessary, something that involved pulling teeth from the OSFI and Starfleet. She supposed that the Federation diplomatic corps would also use UFPESCO's work as well.
Dr. Mossane broke the silence. "Well," he sighed, "we have our work cut out for us. That's a lot of data to process. Let's get the staff work on cataloging the data."
Karna managed a weak smile. She picked up her data PADD. "Yes, sir."