Goddess, this is infuriating.
Operations was quiet – as it always was, punctuated only by the murmuring of the Ops personnel into their headsets, or by notification pings. It made for a calm atmosphere to work in, to coordinate the efforts of the Andromeda Initiative towards constructing the remainder of the Nexus, and the other vital functions of the space station – Hydroponics, Engineering, Science, to name a few.
The thunk and clattering of the dropped datapad was loud; several eyebrows rose, eyes glancing over in her direction, before returning to their respective holoscreens. Keri T'Vessa shot an apologetic look their way before bending over to scoop up the datapad; looking around, she sighed before balancing the datapad atop a stack of others on the cluttered table, the whole pile wobbling.
The asari sank into one of the office chairs, sighing once more as she threw her head back, eyes burning holes into the ceiling, far above her. The "studio" she shared with her boss and editor, Davis, wasn't exactly what she'd envisioned – a small office space off the main Operations area, tucked away into a corner, set aside for their use while awaiting their real studio to be activated, once Ops deemed it suitable.
But it wasn't the lack of a proper studio that was vexing Keri – no, she'd pushed breaking reports from a shot-up skycar once, so she was very comfortable working out of any kind of space, really. The thing that was causing her to groan in frustration, her fingers digging into the arms of the office chair, was that she was simply out of things to report on. And the sitting-around-doing-nothing was driving her, as Davis fondly called it, nuts.
She grabbed her mug, tasted the drink within – tea, cold. Still smelled okay. She shrugged and sipped it anyway – what else could she do to stave off the boredom?
Granted, the Initiative had prepared for something like this – she'd attended the preflight briefs, knew what she could spend her time on. Namely, the Cultural Centre, where she could get reading material on the other Milky Way races; the Recreational Zone, getting a sweat on for a healthy lifestyle; the Commons, the shared space for the currently-awake colonists where they could mingle and socialise; for the heck of it, the Armoury, where the Initiative's stock of armaments was kept under strict lock and key by the steely-eyed turian Armourer, who was welcoming towards authorised Security personnel, less so towards inquisitive journalists…
She'd been to all of them, and the entirety of the Hydroponics Farms and Gardens. She'd covered them all in her segment Today in Heleus, her credentials allowing her access to all but the most secure areas. She'd been granted exclusives with Director Garson, and several other important staff on the decks, live interviews which caught the vigour and energy that permeated the space station as personnel scrambled to make the Nexus more viable and livable for more colonists.
And now, four months since arrival, that energy had faded somewhat into the background, the initial excitement giving way to the mundane, the views on the Nexus extranet dropping significantly as the content became more and more stale. Yes, she had to admit, things were becoming… boring, and that frustrated her. No one wanted to watch a piece which was simply an update on an ongoing process which took time – the building of the second arm of the Nexus came to mind, or how the leaves of the crops in the Farms were turning a shade of greenish-orange, signifying they were maturing.
Once: okay, cool. Twice: meh. Three or more times… people simply tuned out.
Davis knew it, the crafty bastard. He didn't even show up at the studio these days – undoubtedly in his personal quarters, sleeping off the fatigue borne of staying up late watching reruns of his favourite extranet show. A couple of weeks ago, she'd enthusiastically replied in the affirmative when he asked her to ping him should anything noteworthy happen – how did she fall for that trick?
Keri set the empty mug down a little harder than she'd intended, but no one seemed to care. Inhaling deeply, she let the air escape slowly from her nostrils, as if she could rid herself of the stress that she was feeling at the moment with her breath. She hated feeling like this, being unable to do the thing she did best, unable to contribute to the biggest thing that has ever happened to her since her parents disowned her. For a brief moment, she idly wondered how they were doing – like she'd done a hundred times before, and each time, her assumption was the same. Being important people, they'd received important galactic personages and she, Keri T'Vessa, their daughter, was nothing more than an embarrassment, breaking out of her normal behavior of sailing around bays and attending diplomatic parties with them, to picking up a camdrone and recording their interactions with their guests…
Keri's lips twisted, the memory souring her mood. It wasn't easy for her, being thrown out of her ancestral home and blacklisted throughout Illium. But look how far I've come, dear parents – a whole new galaxy. What do you have to say about that?
Keri sprang up and began pacing up and down the tiny studio, walking off the nervous energy that she felt. It was mid-stride, going past the stack of datapads on the desk, when a thought struck her, causing her to come to a sudden halt, her eyebrows furrowing, mouth slightly open as she considered the idea she just had.
Her parents used to host the people of Illium and other dignitaries – she could do a Today in Heleus subsegment on the people of the Nexus. She could interview certain individuals, screened carefully, on their personal stories, probe their reasons for coming to Andromeda, how they came to be on the Initiative. Let the people have a feel for their fellow colonists, build rapport, and most importantly for her, actually having something to do, rather than wait for the next hot newsworthy piece to fall into her lap.
Individual interviews. Maybe begin with the Directors, personnel of note, those who'd left a good life behind to pursue the goals of the Initiative. What motivates them, what encouraged them to join this one-way trip. Yes. Excellent.
Her mind racing, Keri scooped up a handful of datapads, and made a dash for the residential blocks. Davis would probably be up now anyway, and if he wasn't, too bad, she was going to –
She was promptly thrown to the floor as the entire Nexus shuddered, the datapads spinning off in multiple directions.