Shaping the message.

Posted on Mon May 9th, 2022 @ 5:56am by Rear Admiral Sal Andolini & Lieutenant Jordan Hoover

Mission: Episode 2: 18th and Constitution
Location: Starfleet Communications office
Timeline: Mission Day 27 at 0900

It had been a couple of days since the incident, when Sal got home, Connie was angrier that he didn’t tell her that the ‘incident’ he had described turned out to be an actual attack with casualties. It took a stop at Claudios for their pastry bundle, which the proprietor had nicknamed the “Sal’s in trouble special” When he heard what it was for, it included extra cannoli with pistachios, her favorite.

In front of his office, which had a nice view of the bay area, it was designed for media appearances; a nice view went a lot to project the appearance of competence.

When he stopped at the front desk, there was a new person seated in the yeoman’s seat.

“Where’s Hobson?”

“They transferred him to 5th fleet. I’m your new yeoman Samantha Traynor.” She handed him a padd, “List of calls, top of the list is Mrs Andolini, Then apparently a Cadet Andolini, related I presume?”

“My daughter.” Sal looked over, “Looks like everyone wants an opinion.”

“Quite sir, also Leftenant Hoover is on his way for a meeting to break up the press.”

“Thank you Chief Traynor. “ With that Sal headed in to his office, got his usual coffee from the machine and started sorting messages.

As if on cue, Jordan Hoover made his appearance, striding up to the yeoman's desk as the door to Admiral Andolini's office closed behind him. "Lieutenant Hoover for Admiral Andolini," he said with a smile to the woman. He'd spent a lot of time working closely with the Admiral since the incident at 18th and Constitution and had grown used to Hobson's friendly face.

Traynor stood up, "Good morning sir." She made a note on the desk application, "the Admiral is expecting you."

"Thank you Chief," he said with a nod of appreciation. He took a few steps toward the door before pausing. "Hobson?" he asked, with curiosity.

"Transferred to 5th Fleet, I've been posted here."

"Gotcha," he nodded again and then, with an amiable smile cast back to the woman at the desk he made his way to Andolini's door pausing and pressing the chime to announce his arrival.

Sal had been getting coffee from the coffee maker on a side table when he heard the chime. So he called out, "Come in, it's open."

The door opened.

Jordan stepped through into the now familiar office and, dispensing somewhat with formalities, made a beeline for the seat in front of Andolini's desk. "Any chance you have enough of that for two? I can replicate one if not," he asked, propping one booted foot on his knee.

"Help yourself, there's also some pastries, courtesy of Mrs. Andolini, so help yourself, I recommend her cannoli,." Connie had not been able to finish the 'trouble' packet so she told him to bring some in to work and they were offered freely. "As for coffee, always keep a full pot with a crisis, you live on it."

The younger man shook his head, chuckling, as he did. "That's a fair point sir," he said, not waiting before resuming his feet and making his way over to the coffee pot and pouring a cup. He hesitated only a moment, taking his black, but recalling any number of times over his friendship with the Press Secretary how she liked her own cup.

"Have you had any word from Captain Blake yet today?" he asked.

"Not yet today, I hope to get some more information by this afternoon."

With a nod of understanding Jordan returned to the chair in front of the Admiral's desk, a bit of unease churning in his stomach as he did. For much of the weeks since the bombing Jocelyn had been crashing on his couch, avoiding going home where vandals had found her and seemingly unwilling to be alone. Their friendship had always worked like this over the years. If one of them was in need of help the other showed up. Couches were always on offer for a glass of wine or a temporary place to sleep. For years Jordan had imagined it a bit like what having a younger sister might be like. In her absence since the incident he'd found his apartment uncomfortably quiet.

"So where do you want to start?" He asked once Andolini had taken his position behind the desk.

"I've got the list of news agencies blowing up subspace, the Ferengi News Bureau is now offering 30 bars of Latinum for an exclusive. But we've got every one from the Andorians to the Zakdorn asking for information. I figure we'll split it so you're not doing all the calls. I've got a meeting with Security to get an update and what we can and cannot say to the press, I'll make sure that you have a copy, and once we confirm everything, we might want to have a press briefing. Thoughts?"

Jordan nodded as Andolini spoke, confirming his understanding. "Makes sense to me. Floating a statement, even a brief one, before the briefing might be a good idea. The Dredge is already fabricating happenings with the claim that they have a source on the ground who witnessed the event. They haven't released the name of the security officer who was killed, but they are threatening to and claiming that we have spent too much focus on covering up the activities of the CinC and the Press Secretary."

He paused, tabbing open a report on his PADD and then turning it to hand it to the Admiral. "The Galactic Dredge isn't one our usual wire scans, but they've picked a bone with Captain Blake since day 1, and even got some of the major networks to quote them, so I keep an eye on them."

That got a rather unprofessional grumble from the Admiral, "The fact that serious networks are quoting, bird cage liner is a sin and disgrace." Then he sighed, "Ok what are they finding now?"

Jordan's expression shifted, annoyance over the thorn in the side that was the Dredge coloring his features. "Their reports, what they have shared so far, seem to to be in keeping with what the shop keeper at the location where the Fleet Admiral and Captain took refuge saw. Could be someone looking to cash in on the notoriety, or could be faked, but if it's faked, it's a very good fake."

"I'm going to assume cash in at this point, if it is a fake and we can prove it, let me know immediately, right now, official comments on anything related to that picture is no comment, we won't dignify tabloid accusations with a comment." He sipped his coffee "If they get bad enough send them to me, I love a good scrap, in the blood."

The Deputy Press Secretary nodded, sighing. "Beyond the Dredge, it's just the usual suspects. They smell blood in the water and they want to be the first to the source. We'll keep 'em busy and hopefully Homeworld Security or Intelligence can get the guy soon so we can have something tangible to give them."

"Yeah, a good perp walk would get a lot of attention, and change the narrative." He flipped through some information, I say we schedule the conference with what we have. If we get an image or sketch, get it out interstellar."

Jordan pursed his lips and nodded again before pulling up a series of things on another PADD he had with him. "Ok... I'll work on that and let you know. Anything else we should talk through?"

Sal flipped through his list, "Any other stories we need to worry about, I figure while we know the main story, we should keep an eye on anything else, and if you can find good human interest stuff that would be great."

"The crisis in the Chalvana System," Jordan replied with a frown. "We can try to get some information from Interstellar Aid. It's been an ongoing investigation and relief effort. Want me to get a write up going?"

"Please." Sal's orders were always couched in politeness. "I'll start chumming the press waters to get updates." One of the reasons he even was considered for this job was he had a list of press contacts from all over the known galaxy. "Aside from that, when we can get the group together we'll go over a full press strategy, and hope nothing else happens."

Jordan nodded, taking a last sip of his coffee before standing. "I'll get to it then," he said with a smile to the Admiral. "Just yell if there's anything else you want to point me at."

"I'll Let you know. You can hear my shouting from the Golden Gate bridge."

With that the meeting broke up