Fort Kinzer military installation - Dindrezi space
Operations-Director Vogin Winterborn sat at the head of a classic, wood oval-shaped boardroom table, looking at his subordinate officers as one of them completed his report.
"... and with the latest resupply convoy, we are topped off at 100% of our basic combat load of munitions and fuel. Spares inventories are at 97%, and crew establishments are at 94% of authorized strength. We should be ready to resume operations as soon as BATCRURON 102 finishes topping off their torpedo bays from the tender."
"Thank you for that report, George," Vogrin smiled in approval. "Now, was there any final business before we get underway?"
"Just one minor report, Sir." A junior officer about 2/3rds of the way down the table stood up. "BioTech says they've finally got that interesting new gene cluster nailed down, the one adopted from the Soryllian warrior class lizards. They send their thanks for the last batches of prisoners - the increased sample size let them engage in some destructive testing that sped things up considerably. We've received several platoons of new cyborgs that incorporate the enhanced strength and reaction speed. Higher headquarters wants it well tested by the disposables before we begin adding it in to our Alpha or Beta genetic lines."
"Excellent. Have them assigned to CRURON 104 - Captain Marwin of the ZEUS has been complaining about the outdated troops assigned to them," Vogrin nodded to a highly-decorated officer close to the head of the table, "and the heavies are always in the thick of the fight - we'll get good testing results." The lieutenant nodded, and sat down. "Anything else?"
When there was no response, Vogrin stood up and looked over the room. "Very well, fellow officers. We get underway at 1500 - ENCHANTER and DOMINION should be done at the tender by then. Operation 'Majestic Diver' begins in 1 week."
As he sat down, the boardroom dissolved around him, leaving the reality of his stateroom aboard his flagship as the Virtual Reality construct shut down. He gave a satisfied sigh as he leaned back on a high-backed leather chair, his neural lace showing green status reports from his various staff members aboard the battleship. Taking a sip of a fluted glass of Terran brandy, he smiled as he thought of where he would be next week. Time for a bit of personal business, mixed with professional pleasure.