Yosip sits at his customary place, at his desk in the war room. On the main screen are damage reports from the recent food riot. All the damaged parts can be recycled into new components, the main loss had been from spoilage.

The composting fields receive the surplus. Tiny decomposers working tirelessly for the benefits of the station convert the unsavory bounty into rich soil. Eventually, those nutrients will make their way back to our hungry citizenry, though until then many will be on short rations.

Crews bustle between storage lockers, manufacturing bays, and the repair site. The frustration they must feel is evident in the set of their furred brows as they work. They move with less enthusiasm than when they had first installed these same components.

The only exceptions are the exchange teams from Gelen's fleet here to familiarize themselves with the tools used by the Imperium. They still exhibit the joy of learning, and walk from completed projects with the satisfaction of a job well done.

A second, shorter docking tower is under construction as well lengthening the original. The main tower will continue servicing larger vessels for the foreseeable future. The new installation is for smaller shuttles and courier ships. Fresh recruits in crisp black and yellow uniforms shadow more experienced dock workers, learning to service engines and refresh air supplies for docked vessels, among other duties.

"We'll keep them too busy to pull another stunt like that," the Supply-Master states, closing the file. "They also need to feel more personally responsible for themselves. Acting like their parents won't help."

Eva Chel holds a data tablet in one hand, the other poised above it, ready to begin taking notes.

"If they're hungry, we can let them grow community gardens, give them control over what they plant and eat," he says slowly, eyes focused somewhere in the distance. "Our construction teams already know how to build fields, and irrigation and all that. What do you think?"

The diminutive administrator nods her gray head. "Keeping the fields out of sight hasn't helped them, is what I think. The more they can see being done, the less they should worry there'll be enough to eat."

"Right. I have an uncle that raises grubs. Derived from gor, but neotenous. I'll see about getting some shipped in. They require a lot of attention, but they grow fast," declares the Supply-Master.

"That should work, sir," Eva agrees with only a moment's hesitation. "Keep them busy, and the reward is big fat grubs every thirty odd days."

Why not? The refugees had dug the decomposers out of the fields for sustenance when they first arrived. And if each housing unit is put in charge of their own gorgrubs they can't accuse us of withholding food from them. Of course, we'll have to install garden plots in the residential sections for it to work, but that isn't as large a change as it sounds.

A few tubs of soil, an additional bit of piping to connect the plots to the water grid, and a couple of high-power lamps each. Placeable it in any room that has both water and power access. Not only should it cut down on waste, but it will consume large amounts of the populace's free time. It should even help reduce the stress on the oxygen reclamation systems.

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"How long should it take for your uncle to send you some breeding stock?"

"Not too long, honestly," he replies. "I've already ordered a few batches. Missed the juicy little things and was going to have a private supply. But I'd rather hand them out and increase morale."

"Ha! Call the first batch a test run, and order a few thousand more," she says with a wide grin. "If nothing else, the sba flocks can eat them if the Tserri won't."

Yosip nods his scarred head and taps one metal claw thoughtfully on his desk. "Besides food, there isn't much to honestly do up here." He looks around the room, and none of the administrators are willing to make eye contact.

Eva has an answer for that, too. "Yeah, the trivee shows are great, but the Tserri are only willing to watch so many broadcasts before needing something else to do."

"Which there isn't," interrupts Yosip, frowning.

"Not entirely true, sir," she responds. "That gambling den your pet rock set up on Laceweaver Row seems to be quite the popular spot, lately."

Some of the tenseness leaves the scarred officer's face at her words. "You did what, now, Mos?"

"I did no such thing," affront drips from my simulated voice. "What your assistant is referring to is a cultural enrichment facility. They use it to play their tile games and meet up with friends and family members after their shifts end."

Yosip's tapping takes on a more focused aspect. I would simply access the console directly, but the first thing he does is sever his connection to the rest of the station. Whatever files he's looking through, he manages to keep himself between my cameras and the console built into his desk.

Frustrating. I had never thought I would need to know so intimately the information he has available to him. It galls me to admit that his kind would be better adapt at such things than myself. My caste had been bred for combat ability primarily.

"Jetanda, huh," he finally says. "If that's how you've kept her out of trouble, then I'll ignore this."

His aide brings him a glass of juice, heavily fortified with the additional compounds that keep his body from rejecting the many additions to it. Yosip nods his thanks before draining the glass.

"The facility they have access to is too small," he concludes, setting the glass down. "We'll need to build a few more, spread around the station. Maybe start construction of an area dedicated to recreational activities, separate from the residential areas."

Eva takes notes as he talks. She's quite efficient, never missing an opportunity to be helpful. I wonder if Yosip knows how much she actually does for him.

"With the available slag hauled up from the construction sites, a surface expansion might be possible," he muses. "Use it to build a casino, right next to the docking tower, and tourism should become a lot more profitable."

"And that also creates new jobs for some of our residents," Eva adds thoughtfully.

"Mos, have Dunc get in contact with Jetanda. Offer her the position of casino manager," Yosip orders. "If she's going to run a gambling hall on my station, she's going to do it in a way that helps the station prosper."

"Construction on the surface should be easier than trying to rezone an established section," declares Eva. "I'll start drawing up some plans for an entertainment district, centered around this new casino."

Unsure if he wants those two to build rapport or if he thinks the old Tserri likes the young officer, I believe it might be better to instead have Donna and her brother pass the message along. Yosip and Eva continue discussing the upcoming additions they're overseeing while I alert the security team leader. Dunc agrees with me and delegates the responsibility to the siblings. Well, that or the fact that he and Spen are busy hassling Glian and can't be bothered to actually work.