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STARFLEET: ORIGINS
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==NRPG: The Night Before Christmas on the HOOD==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
Fair warning: Adult Content that will have you falling out of your
sleigh laughing. This is a polished version of the one I sent out.
Twas the night before Christmas when somewhere on the HOOD
A creature was stirring who was up to no good.
The doc was hung. Yes that's necessary to share
To explain why five girlfriends about him would care.
The cowboy was nestled all snug in his bed
While a lovely young sugar-babe danced over his head.
And Mother in her scrubs, and I with my gun
Outside waited for our trap to be sprung.
At midnight in the hall we raised such a shout,
That Stile sprang from his bed to see what was about.
Running in through his door, I flew like a bat,
Tossed him back on his heels and knocked off his prized hat.
The girl with fair breasts who'd been doc's private show
Presently sought out cover for places below.
Then into Stile's bewildered eyes I pointed,
And declared in a cadence that was mildly disjointed,
"You've spoiled your last girl you scoundrelous man.
You'll do as I say if you value your brain pan.
See this shotgun and this here fair maiden?
Well congrats old buddy cause it is time for your weddin."
Stile looked over at Mother and then blithely did say.
"If I have to marry her, Sean, I'd rather be gay."
That's when the old fella learned in a right hurry
What hell didn't have on a scorned woman's fury.
For from the little old nurse, so lively and quick,
Flashed a switchblade which swiftly cut clean off his dick.
More rapid than eagles his curses then came,
He whistled and shouted and called Mother a name,
"Gosh darn it! Gosh dang it! You crazy old Yankee!
Someone get me my sewing kit and a sterile white hanky."
The rest of the story you can guess how it went
In sickbay was doc's Christmas night spent
Not that this lesson changed his vile ways
But at least he lay off girls for a couple of days.
And now that this post has been hammered out right,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
~Brian
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: just one little problem==
===by David Martins===
SD 2261.360
MD 2.0850
Scene: Internal Surface, Metron SphereHemux had been standing a bit aside from the teaam as te Metron message had been delivered.  The idea that they where infected with a deadly virus made her feel unpeasant to say the least.  ON the other hand, these kind of situations made her brain work overtime. Doing so she let her nails glide over her sharp pointed teeth, wich made a rather terrifying noise. 
“Oh hell, woman, do you have to make that noise?  It gives me teh shivers!” one of the redskirts shouted.  Hemux stared for a second or two to him and then looked to her nail “Sorry, just a bit nervous.” she said to no one in particullary. 
Then she narrowed her eyes and turned to Corbett.  “Doctor, I am thinking out loud, but help me out.”.  Corbett nodded “Always pleased to help a woman, what do you have in mind, Hemux?”
ARr’Hianna looked from one to another “To start with, if we all are infected by a deadly virus, as that Metron said, then I wonder if it is a natural thing.”  Corbett blinked his eyes “What’ya talking about, Hemux?”  Hemux sighed “Think about it, doctor, whatever this sphere is, there has been no human, Vulcan, Trill, Denobulan or Gorn on it as far as we know it.  So what are the changes that a natural evolved virus would infect AND be deadly for all of these species?” 
Corbett snapped his fingers “I see what you’re thinking, and I would say that chance is about zero.”
Hemux nodded “Exactly what I was thinking.  What if we scann all our bodies, check for any trace of RNA and compare that to the known virusses in our databanks.  If we rule out any known or similar type of virus, then we have a good chance to find the modified one seperated from the rest.  Once we know the virus, we can start looking for a cure.”
Corbett nodded “Good plan, only one small problem: our tricorders are not working.”
Hemux sighed “I know, that is a small thing I haven’t found a solutioin for.”
<<<NRPG>>>
Hi All, 
Long time no see, I know, Family and real life is better now, still I am on only available for sporadic posting.  My best wishes to all off you!
Respectfully,
David Martens
Lt ARr’Rhiana Hemux
CSciO , USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: A Stroll - JP==
===by Brian V. Mansur & Lena Rose===
SD 2261.350
MD 2.073
Scene: Internal Surface, Metron Sphere
Lt. Kiska Saxman quietly stood beside Commander Sean Merrick as he
tried to make contact with the Captain's half of the away team. She
felt a little embarrassed about her recent outburst. Normally she
remained calm and in control during a crisis. But then again these
were not your normal circumstances.
She took some comfort at being with the best officers in Starfleet. At
least they would have a fighting chance if they all pulled together …
even if it meant somehow working with the Gorn. After all, they had
each been thrown into the same predicament. Hopefully everyone could
put aside their differences and find a cure so that *everyone* could
survive to live, love, laugh, cry and breathe the breath of life for
years to come.
"I'm not getting through to the other team." Merrick said finally, a
crinkle of annoyance in his forehead.
"Then I guess we will have to do it the old fashion way." Grinned
Kiska, finding her sense of humor again.
Merrick smiled in relief at seeing Kiska return to her usual sweet,
upbeat self. As the others in their group gathered round, he told them
what had gone down and started leading them back towards the landing
zone. All the while Kiska continued to run the medical tricorder over
the terrain. Hopefully some reading or another would be of use to
doctor in finding a treatment.
As they trekked on, Sean occassionally glanced back at his team.
Yoshi seemed to be getting on well with Ensign Forrester. More than
once, Sean saw her reaching out to touch the young man's arm for a few
moments of physical reassurance. Sean privately chuckled at that. If
they lived through this, perhaps those two could have a beautiful life
together.
That thought made him look over at Kiska. Gosh, but she was
breathtaking. Those ice blue eyes, raven hair, gorgeous smile, and
model figure were enough to make any man's heart beat faster. He
couldn't wait to get to know her better. And he guessed that she'd
also be happier for some simple comforting touch on his part. He knew
*he* would. Trouble was, protocol wouldn't permit it. Not within
eyesight of the junior officers anyway. Maybe down the road. He'd be
darned if after all he'd gone through that he was going to lose yet
another girl. Not in this life.
Something of what he was thinking must have seeped over the ether to
Kiska. She said, "Thanks for being calm about this. You're making it
much easier."
Throwing protocol to the wind, he put out a hand and squeezed her arm
for a moment. "I've lost track of the number of times I've played
cards with the Reaper. So it is kind of hard for me to get too worked
up over meeting him again. And so far, we haven't even seen anything
to really get excited about. No bad guys are shooting at us. We're
not dangling off any broken bridges. No one has fallen through a hole
in the ground. Heck, nobody's even sneezed yet."
Kiska giggled. "Yeah, I see your point."
It was, of course, shortly after the warm moment that the first phaser
blast splintered a nearby rock to pieces and sent the entire away team
diving for cover.
NRPG: Less talk. More action needed here. Hey, is anyone else still
playing on this ship besides Lena and me? If you all don't start
writing soon, I swear I'll change the ship's motto to "The Loooove
Boooat! Soon we'll be making another run!" Don't think I won't do
it!
Respectfully Submitted Jointly,
Lena Rose
LTjg. Kiska Saxman
Nurse, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
&
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Riding into Some More Good News - JP==
===by Brian V. Mansur & Andy Catterick===
SD 2261.360
MD 2.1000
Scene: Metron Sphere
Commander Merrick's half of the away team came bounding across the
convective plain of the Metron worldlet. Judging by the look of them,
they had been in a scrape alright. Sean had a burn mark on his left
hand: minor but noticeable. Everyone in his group had that harried
look of people who'd just been shot at.
The Captain noted that Kiska seemed to be keeping in close proximity
to Sean as they rolled in to a stop, panting for breath. But he
didn't have time to speculate as Sean started delivering his side of
the story.
"Ambush Captain," he began. "A few few close hits, but no serious
injury. Caught a glimpse of them. It was definitely the Gorn and if
I didn't know better, I'd say it was harassing more than anything
else. Don't think they can run fast enough to keep up so we probably
have several minutes to prepare. Did you get the Metron's little
welcome by the way? Any leads on a cure?"
"Doc and Hemux aren't going to be able to make much headway without
their tricorders working."
Sean looked confused. "Ours were doing fine just a few minutes ago."
Kiska pulled her's up to show it was indeed functioning. And then she
started conking it with her palm in the age old "why won't this thing
work" fashion.
"You got to be kidding me," she frowned, then said, "Maybe it is an
area of affect thing. We know it worked back in the direction of the
Gorn."
Jack and Sean exchanged suspicious glances. Surely not a coincidence.
"Jolly," Sean commented. "Orders Captain?"
“How many Gorn?”
Sean shook his head.  “Uncertain.  As I said.  Just a glimpse of two maybe three that were taking cover behind some sort of structure.  I think they were trying to flank us.  All I can say for sure is they weren’t the ones who were doing the shooting.”
“And your equipment was working then.”
“Appeared to be.  Johnson,” Sean nodded over to one of the red shirts, “was able to lay down some suppressing fire which enabled the rest of us to begin the run this way.”
“Ok we head back that way and see if we are the victims of some sort of proximity drain.”
“What about the Gorn?”  Lowl asked.  “If it is confined to a space might it not be better to head the other way?”  He didn’t like the idea of senior officers walking towards the enemy.
“Maybe, maybe not.”  Jack answered.  “Ideally we could break down into small teams and head off in different directions however we are limited by time. But we know the equipment was working in that direction.  Any other direction is just a crap shoot.  And even if we get the tricorders working its not to say they’ll find the answers.  The Gorn on the other hand may be able to help.”
Letting go of Sean’s hand after he examined the burn Stile looked over at the captain.  “It doesn’t look like the Gorn seem to be in an overly helpful mood.”
“I’m sure once they get a sample of your folksy charm that will change.”  Jack quipped.  “Ok Gene, you and your men will lead the way.  Everyone keep checking their equipment.  The second anything comes back on line we need to know.  Move out.”  As Jack began to follow he wondered how Gar and the HOOD were holding up.  It been long enough that there had been no contact and he was worried just what the Metrons were capable of.
Respectfully Submitted Jointly,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
&
Andy Catterick
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Holding Down the Fort...More or Less==
===by Scott Lusby===
SD: 2261.362
MD: 2.1000
Setting: Bridge, A-Deck, USS HOOD
Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth squirmed slightly in the conn. He had
not quite gotten used to the feel of the chair. Command he was comfortable
with...just not the chair.
At least that is what the Andorian warrior inside of him told him, anyway.
"Any contact?" he asked, more hopeful than a real inquiry.
The answer came back as expected. "No, Commander- none."
Gar sat there for a few moments. It had been a couple of hours now since
the Metrons delivered their sunny message, and in that time they hadn't done
much except take the Metrons at their word.
It was time to find out just how accurate that word was- Gar was tired of
waiting.
His antennae twitched in anticipation as he leaned forward in his chair. "I
think it's time we tried to swing the odds in our favor," he grumbled.
Then, the Andorian engineer turned to face the comm station. "Any idea what
it is that's blocking our signal, Ensign? Dampening field? Radiation?
Yoshi Tamura stuck his face into his scope once more, and after a few
seconds, pulled it away. "None that I can detect, Commander; near as I can
tell, our instruments just don't work."
"Diagnostics?"
"Tried that first, Commander," Tamura replied. Everything is showing
green."
Gar frowned at this. From an engineering standpoint, that shouldn't be the
case: if the instrumentation wasn't working, there should be all sorts of
warning lights and chirps and beeps emanating from the station. Sure,
something between the delivery of the information and the error relays could
have shorted...but for everything? The odds just don't work that way...
Gar's antennae twitched again. "Is it possible that it's not the
instrumentation being affected, but rather us? That there's some sort of
mental telepathy or mind control going on here that is making us BELIEVE
that communications aren't working?"
"I- us...Commander, that's a bit outside of my expertise--"
"I read your service jacket; I know you're more than a competent technician.
If you say that our instrumentation is in good working order, then it is.
Which means we need to find another possible solution...and I am running our
of other plausible ideas."
Yoshi nodded. "I suppose it's possible- I mean it sounds logical, anyway."
Gar nodded. "That's all I wanted to hear." He tapped a button on his
chair. "Bridge to Sick Bay."
The response was nearly automatic. [[[Sick Bay here- what can I do for you,
Commander?]]]
Gar glanced at Yoshi. "Apparently, ALL communications aren't affected- just
the ones that leave the ship," he said.
The, the Andorian turned back to his console. "Doctor, could you bring a
medkit and your tricorder up here? I want you to do a few brain scans."
There was a pause. [[[Brain scans?]]]
Gar's brow furrowed. "Did I stutter?"
Another pause. [[[No sir- on my way. Sick Bay out.]]]
Gar popped the switch again, closing the circuit, and leaned back in the
conn again.
He smiled as he glanced again at Yoshi. "I don't know if it'll work, but
it's better than just sitting around waiting for fate to decide whether we
live or die."
<<TIMELINE>>
MD 2.1000: While the Captain and most of the senior staff have their hands
full on the sphere, Gar looks for a way to re-establish contact with them
again.
<<NRPG>>
Good to be back. I didn't have much to contribute being stuck up on the
ship (I know I needed to be since I was AFK for so long)...but perhaps I
found a way to stir the pot a little.
Harry: used Yoshi; hope I didn't mess him up. Feel free to drop in if you
want, but I know you're not exactly in a posting place right now. But
Yoshi's the only other senior staff left aboard the ship, so Gar's going to
use him. I promise not to hurt him...much... ;)
Respectfully Submitted,
-- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth
Chief Engineer
USS HOOD NCC-1703
Sixth Fleet
STAR FLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: The Little Things You Find==
===by Steve Apple===
SD: 2261.363
MD: 2.1130
Scene: Sphere’s Surface
The landing party made their way to a slope with an outcropping of rocks that was at the base of a clearing.
“If we make for the rocks Captain we’ll have decent cover and the Gorn will have to move into the clearing to make an assault.” Gene Lowl said scanning the area for tactical advantage.
“I agree,” Merrick added picking up a few rocks the size of baseballs. “Our phasers are out, but at least the area provides some natural weapons.”
“Alright make your way into the rocks and set your men into defensive positions.” Steele ordered. “However, no one and I mean no one is to attack first at least not until we determine if the Gorn disrupters have been drained like our phasers.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Corbett asked pushing his hat to the back of his head.
“Zade is going to use that antique you keep strapped to your leg to let them know we’re not push over’s.”
Corbett’s mouth opened in response, but Steele beat him to it. “Stow it doc, she’s the best shot we have and you need to focus your attention on a cure.”
“Give it up Texan,” Zade said sharply as she held out her hand.
Reluctantly Corbett pulled up his left trouser leg and retrieved his prize colt from its ankle holster and handed it to her.
“Don’t worry your precious toy will be safe.” She smiled knowing this was killing him.
“First my hat and now my pistol - soiled by Yankee hands. I just hope my great granddaddy is not turning over in his grave.” With as much grace as he could muster Corbett turned and headed up the rocky slope.
“We’re seriously not trusting our fate to his finding a cure are we.” Zade whispered to the captain.
“As scary as this sounds,” Steele responded as he watched Corbett make his way up the slope. “Right now he’s probably the only one who can figure this out.”
“We’re doomed,” Zade mumbled as she went to take up a defensive position.
Corbett made his way up the slope skirting past a couple of red shirts that had taken up defensive positions. It was bad enough he had to give up his pistol, but he had no idea how the hell he was even going to detect the virus let alone cure it now that his scanner and med-tricorder were out.
“Fraking Trill,” he mumbled to himself as he kicked at the ground. His foot caught against something dislodging some of the dirt from around it. Stooping he used the knife he packed in his kit to pull it from the ground. It was a thin small wooden tube maybe five or six inches in length and possibly two in diameter. Something about its shape and size bothered him. It was a nagging feeling at the back of his head that it should mean something.
“Find something good Doc,” One of the red shirts yelled over at him.
“Very much sar,” Corbett said smiling a toothy grin as its purpose finally dawned on him. “Quite possibly the one thing we desperately needed to thwart these Yankee Metron plan.”
“Unless it’s a fully charged phaser I seriously doubt that.” Zade interjected just to add insult to injury.
“Madam is it too much to ask that you keep your slug quiet.” Corbett shouted back “I dare say he shoul…”
“Let’s have it Stile, what has you so excited?” Steele interrupted trying to keep another fight at bay.
“This sar,” Corbett answered holding up the piece of wood.
“A hollow stick that’s what you’re hollering about…”
“I would have thought that centuries of parasitic piggybacking would have taught you civility” Corbett shot back. “But obviously I…”
“Stile!” Jack shouted.
Corbett turned toward the captain and smiled. “My apologies Captain Jack, this sar is the first step to answer my questions.”
“You want to explain a bit more as I’m not quite following your logic here.”
“You have to have logic to follow,” Zade added.
“Enough Lieutenant,” Steele grumbled.
Corbett looked over at Zade and frowned, but decided against baiting her. “This wooden tube is nothing by itself sar,” he said while using his knife to dig out his tricorder’s little view screen glass. “However, when you add this glass to the top of the tube, and Kiska I’ll need yours as well for the bottom. Well sar in a nut shell you get a primitive microscope. A tool I can use to try and discern just what in the hell kind of virus we are dealing with.”
“The Metrons did say everything we needed was on the planet.” Merrick said looking over at Kiska and smiling.
“Identification is the first stage for a cure.” Corbett smiled broadly. “Saxman and I can rig up crude plates to view blood samples under. From now on we shall have to do things the old fashion way.”
Respectfully Submitted,
Steve Apple
Stile Corbett, MD
CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
Sixth Fleet
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