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==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Therapist is "The Rapist" Run Together==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2261.031
Scene: Sickbay, USS HOOD
"I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you," Sean sat muttering.
It had taken an order from the Captain to get him back onto the exam table.
His exact words had in fact been "No this is not a joke. Yes mister, march
your butt to sickbay and submit to the doctor."
Submit to the doctor? What the hell was he? The XO of the fraking ship or
a dominatrix partner?
And now his butt was cold. That was because he hadn't even bothered to tie
up the stupid exam gown. Instead, he ground his teeth in dead set
determination to not give Stile, and doubtlessly the Captain too, the
satisfaction of seeing him squirm before any pretty nurses. There would be
''no'' pretentions of modesty today dammit.
It was while he was scratching his left cheek that the perfunctory knock at
the exam stall's doorpost came. He took a deep breath and in walked ...
He blinked. "Hello mother."
"Didn't disappoint you I hope," Mother said with a cheery smile.
"I'm in no mood today mother."
"Oh, you got a headache hon? That's okay. We can do it tomorrow night."
Sean rolled his eyes. "I never knew off color was your thing. Just what
has Stile cooked up for me this time?"
"Me. As a matter of fact."
"What?"
"I've been promoted to ship's marriage counselor for a day. Stile thinks
something is eating at you and he sent me in to find out what."
"What?" he repeated.
"Stile says you've been a bitch to live with ever since you came back from
Outpost 8."
"You have got to be kidding me."
"He even tried to hook you up with Kiska thinking that might help. Tsk Tsk.
Talk about a drop dead little hottie. And you gunned by her like a yellow
stoplight. Now, I know you aren't gay, so why don't you tell me what is
this all about?"
Sean stared blankly. He hadn't realized he had been *that* irritable.
NRPG: To Be Continued.
Repectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Aftermath==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.031
Scene: Spaceport, New Detroit
K’temec sat among the smoking ruin that had once been the New Detroit spaceport.  He had not only failed, he had failed spectacularly.  His wife sat beside him.  He hoped with all his Klingon blood that she would pull out her weapon and kill him.  It would be easier then maintaining this life, especially now that her nagging and disappointment would increase.  He had known for sometime he would not see Sto’vokor but at this point the horror he would see in the afterlife seemed much more tolerable.
The cursed Starfleeters had robbed him of his prey but not before those soulless automaton’s had swooped in like a plague of hilra and spread chaos everywhere.  Even his own countrymen, the Klingons from the Bird of Prey had only help muddy the waters.  Once all of that had happened he had not been able to even see the Romulan traitor much less capture him.
He cursed the day he had ever heard the name Sachen.  He had become accustomed to his lot in life.  It had been miserable but at least he had accepted it.  To live these past two weeks with the hope of success and vindication had been a heady dream. He had planned his new future, fantasized about the planets he would visit, the promotions and accolades that would be showered upon him.  The respect his wife would be forced to give him.
“Agent K’temec.”  A deep voice behind him said.  “You are K’Temec?”  It asked again when he did not answer.
Slowly he brought himself to his feet and turned to meet the voice.  “I am.”
“I am Biltem, I am the new captain of the Klingon warship DAGGER, I have been instructed to return you to the homeworld immediately.  Do you have personal items to gather?”
So that was it.  Recalled to the Council to answer for his ‘crimes’.  He looked over at the soldier.  Perhaps this commander would allow him to take his own life first.  Probably not, he thought, then he would fail in his mission.  “No.”  He nodded over to his wife.  “We are ready.”
“Good.”  He pulled out his communicator to command for the transport of the small party.  But before he did he leaned closer to K’Temec.  “Fear not brother we go home as heroes.”
“What!”  The old Klingon asked in confusion.
“Before my captain died he saw that the Romulan’s had recaptured their traitor.  We could not let that happen so we were able to assault the weak Romulans and kill the traitor before they could transport him out.  By defeating the Romulans we have struck a major blow.  Have we not?”  He looked at the Klingon spy expectantly.  “That is what I have reported to my commander.”
But that’s not what happened K’Temec wanted to scream.  He had seen the Romulan whisked away by Starfleet it was all a lie. Finally he spoke.  “I watched your commander die and my heart wanted to burst with pride.  I only hope you recounted your own exploits to your superiors.  I certainly will make sure they hear of them.”
The two Klingons smiled as the transporter beam took them.
<<<NRPG>>>
Lets hope the high council doesn’t watch FNN.
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
Commanding, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Somewhere a Pimp is Crying==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2261.031
Scene: Sickbay, USS HOOD
"Look, mother," Sean began and suddenly didn't have anything to say.  He
looked away.  "Damn it Stile," he whispered.
And he just sat there for what he guessed must have been a few minutes.
Very quietly mother pulled up an rolling stool and sat down.
"I cleared out sickbay.  You can talk.  I even made sure Stile's little spy
cams and microphones are turned off." 
He looked up.  "I knew it.  I knew he'd put a security system in the dirty voyueur."
"We're focusing on you tonight Commander."
He looked away again. 
"Survivor's guilt.  Crisis of Faith.  Living on floating looney bins in space for two years straight.  Take your pick."
NRPG: I'll have to pick this up another night.  It's back to the grind stone. 
Repectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: New Superweapon==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.031
Scene: Infirmary, Romulan Warship
The Romulan commander looked down at the centurion who lay stiffly on the examination table.  “He is our only death?”
The surgeon nodded as he stared at the medical scanner on the wall.  It was not nearly as sophisticated as what the Federation starship no doubt had.  But it didn’t have to be in this case.  “Yes, the only death.  Many injuries mostly from swords those barbaric Klingons were flaying around with.  But fewer then I had expected.  It would see our Starfleet friends kept their weapons on stun.”
“As they should, as did we.  I surmise their commander understood the absurdity of this mission as I did.  The loss of one scientist was not worth the possibility of war.  We are lucky neither of us lost our heads.  The results could have proven to be disasterous.”
“And what of the Klingon heads?”  The surgeon asked, not really paying attention to the commander.
“I had no difficulty ordering my soldiers to kill those dogs.  They deserve it and nothing will come of it.”  The commander did not add that he knew the two governments were secretly in talks to develop closer ties.  The Klingon Navy was going to supply Romulus with what they deemed state-of-the-art battleships and in return Romulus would surrender cloaking technology.  It was one of the most short sighted policies he had ever heard of.  He was certain the Empire would come to regret it.  “I don’t see any large wounds.”  He said bringing the discussion back to the present.  “What killed him?”
“This.”  The surgeon said as he dropped a small piece of metal into the commander’s hand.
“What is it?”  The commander frowned.  “Some sort of kinetic weapon.”
“That’s my theory.”  The surgeon answered.  “I’ve been 
“Klingons aren’t smart enough.  Must be Starfleet.  No wave signature to trace.  Some sort of knew covert weapon.”  He frowned.  “That’s all we need another magic trick from Starfleet’s armoury.”  He turned and headed for his office already beginning to form his report in his mind.
<<<NRPG>>>
Not want to post anything ‘up to date’ in answer to the hooks already out there til the JP goes out…not that it is earth shattering or anything just we’ve got several time periods going at once.  Thought it best to stick to the past for now ;-)
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
Commanding, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Nothing Up My Sleeve - JP==
===by Andy Catterick and Steve Apple===
<A JP from Steve (the good bits) and Andy>
SD: 2261.025
A few Hours Prior to The Events in Andy’s Post “Still Employed.”
~~Scene CMO’s Office~~
Corbett rubbed his face with his left hand then took a long sip from his glass of tequila. Jimenez was stable and would live, for that he was grateful. He had seen many injuries of this type while undergoing his Emergency Medicine Residency on Orion. The fact that most of them could have been avoided if the medics on scene had been a little more aware of what a chest contusion could produce was beside the point. The Ensign would once again be able to put herself into harm’s way at an order’s notice.
Throwing himself into his overstuffed office chair he propped his feet up on the desk and let out a large unheard sigh. He would let Mother know tomorrow morning what an asset nurse Saxman had been. He knew she would appreciate his noticing. Oh she would hem and haw about the fact that he didn’t call her in, but he knew that was only because she loved him and didn’t trust anyone but herself to assist him. Mother was special to him and she knew it. Damn annoying woman, but he couldn’t think about running the medical department without her. He couldn’t count how many times she had threatened to phaser him in his sleep, or how many times she made sure to support him in the many heated senior medical staff meetings.
Looking over to the desks comm. unit he noticed the red blinking light, he had a message. Flicking the toggle he heard the stiff metallic voice of the computer say. [01:52 Captain Jack Steele]
Corbett pressed the hold button and looked over at the chronograph it was 02:12. Pressing the play button he listened while the message continued.
[Doctor just checking in to see how Jimenez is doing] Steele said. [Let me know when you get a chance]
Corbett could hear the weariness in the voice. Things he was sure did not go well with the Admiralty. Standing he grabbed a full bottle of tequila and headed out the door.
~~Captains Quarters~~
Corbett stood in front of the Captain’s quarters and pressed the chime.
“Enter,” echoed from within.
The door slid open and Corbett stepped through into the dimly lit room. “Beware of Texan’s bearing gifts.” He said walking to the Captain’s desk.
“It’s a little late for a house call don’t you think?”Steel asked sarcastically.
“That would depend on you sar.” Corbett said putting the bottle of tequila on the desk with a thud. “I thought you could use some pain medication.”
“I’m just fine doctor. How’s Jimenez.”
“She will live and as for you being fine, well sar, I bet if I examine you I will find bite marks on your ass that acutely resemble the dentition of one Admiral Carstairs.”
Steele couldn’t help but laugh at his Chief Medical Officer. Abruptly he got up from his bunk and took a swig from the doctor’s bottle.
Looking down at the bottle he found he didn’t know what to say.  The easy answer, the command answer was that he could take it, or its part of my job.  But that wasn’t the real answer and he suspected that Stile would know that it would be a lie.  Instead he sighed and took another drink before he passed the bottle back. 
“You ever feel like you’re in over your head?”
“Not a day goes by.” Corbett said lifting the bottle in salute.
Jack doubted that.  “I’m a good officer and a good commander, but I have to be honest I’m not sure why I was given this command.  There are twelve of these magnificent vessels, can you honestly believe that I’m one of the top twelve command officers in Starfleet?  I can name any number of officers senior to me, who deserve this more than me.”  The fact that many of these officers had been lost to Nero’s attack seemed to have escaped Jack.
“That sar is not entirely true and you damn well know it.”
“Really?  Weren’t you around for our last two glorious missions?”
“Ring side seats to be sure.” Corbett said before taking another long pull off the bottle. “However, I’m not so sure anyone could have done better given the circumstances.”
“Really, well I think there are eleven others who would have done it better.” Steele answered as he took the bottle from the doctor.
“I see, so you are the weakest of the glorious twelve.” Corbett remarked. He watched as Steele’s brow furrowed a bit. “So who’s the best, Tracy, or maybe it’s Garrovick, two men in their fifties who have tons of experience to draw from. I wonder if any of their past missions were less than stellar.”
“I think you hit upon the key word, experience. Those men were born to command and me; well I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Did you ever wonder why Tracy was so successful?” Corbett asked.
“Great men do great things.” Steele answered morosely.
“Well that great man has a big ole stick up his ass, it’s written all over his face.” Corbett snorted. “Very uncomfortable makes him surly and quick to action. My diagnostic skills tell me that when he moves he doesn’t feel the stick so much.”
“Yeah well maybe that stick is what makes him so competent.” Steele said laughing.
“Oh yes to be sure. Saving the Federation from Klingon incursion was definitely the doings of an incompetent man. Maintaining ones ethics in the face of an incorporeal menace is surely the mark of ineptitude. Oh and let us not forget robbing an aggressive totalitarian government of their genetic mastermind, truly the doings of a skilless buffoon.”
“It was half a team effort and half dumb luck.”  He raised his hand to stop the doctor’s retort.  “I’m not saying I was along for the ride Stile, I did my part I know that.  It’s just…I don’t know maybe I’m just tired.”  Jack crossed his arms and stared back at Stile.  He hated feeling like this, he sounded like he was whining.  And he knew that for better or worse he was in command and had to act like it.  Not that he would ever let his doubts surface in front of the crew.  He supposed he shouldn’t be expressing himself like this to the doctor but in the short time they’d served together he’d come to trust the man completely and value his council even more.  He was aware he could ask for a transfer but he knew that would never happen.  He’d never willingly give up HOOD.  Was that because he was being selfish, or he knew deep down that he deserved to be here, that he could not envision anyone else commanding her or leading this crew.  He snorted at the thought.  “Just arguing with myself.”  He said in answer to Stile’s questioning glance.
“Good, you’ll always win that argument.”
Jack took another drink from the bottle and then picked up the tube their new NAV had delivered.  He stared at it for a long time and then suddenly tossed it to the doctor.  “Here, you should see this.”
Corbett looked over the contents of the tube. The Hood was officially ordered to the Celes and surrounding systems for routine medical check-ups and supply runs to the colonies, mining facilities, and scientific outpost scattered throughout.
“Wow a routine mission, who would have thought it.” Corbett said putting the contents of the tube onto the table. “Now where are the orders for the real mission?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“In Texas we have a saying, ‘You don’t risk your prize show dog on a coon hunt.’ Even as punishment they wouldn’t send a ship like this for such a mundane task.”
“No you’re right.” Steele said quite soberly. “These orders are just cover, the Admiralty feels that our, how did you put it… less than stellar performance will provide enough cover for those who might be prying.”
“Wait don’t say a word, let me guess. The Romulans.” Corbett sarcastically guessed. “Since Celes II is dilithium rich and we are so very close to the DMZ, sorry Neutral Zone.”
“Did you think of that all by yourself Stile?” Steele interrupted then looked over at the bottle; it was three quarters empty. Oh what the hell, he thought as he took another swig. “Celes II isn’t our target.”
“So what is?”
“The Sonata Nebula.”
“Well Jack since I’m almost drunk, how about you save me the trouble of trying to figure this out.”
“What I’m about to say is highly classified.” Steele said then paused for a minute to make sure Corbett understood.
“Yes yes silence and the whole bit. Please continue sar.”
“Star Fleet Intelligence has a listening post in the Celes asteroid belt. Its function as I’m sure you can guess is to keep an ear out for Romulan activity.”
“So what have our boys in black uncovered?” Corbett interrupted.
“A Constitution Class Star Ship has been implicated in raiding several planets in the surrounding system for supplies and people.”
“What?”
“You heard me right doctor.”
“Who is it?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out. The ships transponder does not match any Star Fleet signature. Yet it has been identified as fitting our design and its crew is for the most part human.”
“So why tell me instead of Sean?”Corbett asked.
“Because of the data collected. The Admiralty thought you might be able to decipher it.”
“Come on Jack what’s really going on?”
“Something no one is willing to discuss in the open Stile. They have a human genetic pattern that they want you to decipher and a ghost starship they want me to go after. It’s insane to be sure, but according to the fleet all 12 Constitution Starships are accounted for and no crew has gone rogue.”
“So what in the hell are we going after?” Corbett asked as he finished the bottle.
“A whisper, a phantom, something from the imagination; who the frak knows. Once we get to Celes a genetic code will be uplinked to you and a warp signature to me. We better figure this out quickly, or our less than stellar past performance will catch up to us. For now I expect you to keep my confidence, as I will be relaying the cover story to the rest of the senior staff, understood.”
“Yes of course, my word on it.”
“Good, pretend to be annoyed at the inconvenience of conducting routine physicals when I bring it up tomorrow at the briefing.”
“Don’t worry I expect my hangover will compensate for any bad acting.” Corbett said standing.
“We’ll talk more after the briefing tomorrow.” Steele answered while maneuvering the doctor to the door.
“Good night then Cap.”
“Thanks Stile, believe it or not I feel much better.”
“That’s the tequila, miracle drug and my personal favorite.”
“You able to get back to your quarters?” Steele asked.
Corbett looked at the Captain and smiled. “Me no, I’m way too drunk to make it. My feet however, know the way by heart.”
“That makes me feel so much better. Try not to let the enlisted men see you like this.”
“Aye sar, I shall be the bastion of sobriety should I meet the lower ranks.”
“Well at least it’s not something they haven’t seen before.”
“Oh ye of little faith.” Corbett said as he stumbled out the door to his own quarters.
<<<NRPG>>>
The much balleyhooed JP ;-)
Steve: I like it! ;-)
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
Commanding, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
and
Steve Apple
Stile Corbett, MD
CMO, USS HOOD-1703
ASR Origins
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Green dreams==
===by David Martens===
SD: 2261.026
USS HOOD, Personal quearters ARr'Rhiana Hemux.
Time: after Dr Sahen was transfered
Hemux sat on her bed, legs wrapped up under her and the pipe with Denobulan
mushrooms clenched between her teeth. A single tear glanced on her cheek as she
stared into the void, or better into the Abyss...
The confrontation with the Orion slavetraders had messed her up, the talk with
Sahen had confused her even more. The horrors that he promised and that his
research held made her spine shiver as if the winds of the Andorian Ice Plains
blew over her skin. To be honest, she was a wreck.
A cruel smile came to her as she remember the feeling, the taste of blood as she
sank her teeth in that Orion swine his neck. A small bit of revenge, a bite of
revenge she thought and giggled silly. She nodded once and took a deep breath
from her pipe and smiled, more would follow, one Orion down, a million to go,
she grinned wicked...
She blinked her eyes; Corbettt, the man came to her memory... Corbett, could he
be trusted? She remembered how he pulled her of the Orion, how he wanted to
protect the Orion bastard... ARr'Rhiana her mind was filled with smoke and
halicinations, she remember vaguely a dscussion between Corbett and the Orion
slavetrader, something about trading her in exchange for the death of the Orion
overseer... Yes, Corbett,... she had to keep an eye on him, would he be after
her, should she... kill him...just to be safe...? She smiled, an opportunity,
yes she needed an opportunity, to test him, to check him, to make sure he was
trustworthy... She would find a way, a deep laughter bursted out, she had plans
oh yes, precious plans, for now, she was gong to sleep and dream, about Orions
and teeth and blood and revenge, sweet, sweet dreams!
<tag anyone>
<<<NRPG>>>
Hi All,
Just some character development... Steve, watch your back if Hemux is behind
you... She has real big teeth!
Respectfully,
David Martens
Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux
CSciO , USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Smooth Journey==
===by David Kiel===
SD 2261.035
Cedria stood next to her console her attention fixed to the standing display. A
three dimensional map rotated slowly on one of the full length bridge displays.
Her eyes traced the course to the first of the patrol destinations. She
downloaded the latest long range scans to the display. No gravitic anomalies,
nothing she needed to fly around, nothing to optimize, it was all so very
disappointing.
She sighed and muttered to herself. "Perhaps Quella will explode." The violent
death of a star would at least give her something to fly around. Ten to fifteen
million people would die of course. She frowned in hypothetical disappointment.
`So perhaps its best if it did not' she thought only slightly ruefully as she
sat at her station and began reading duty reports.
She was beginning to develop opinions about her crewmen. They were good, you
didn't get to a Constellation class ship by being average. Only one of them was
crazy. Third duty shift Ensign, pathological and obsessive, she could see it in
the writing. She wondered how he had gotten to the Hood, it would be amusing to
try and figure that out.
Soon they would arrive at Celes, and some poor redshirt would beam down and
perhaps get attacked by some squid like wriggly alien crawly ick thing. Then she
would get to fly the rescue shuttle down cause you cant transport when a ick
monster is sucking the blood out of your liver.
Cedria felt sorry for the poor red shirt guy who was soon to suffer such a
grisly incident.
She was also glad she wasn't a security officer. She wanted no part in skulking
about mining caves on strange new worlds. She was definitely needed on the
bridge to plot quick emergency courses around meteor storms. He console beeped,
three lights, a small intrastellar piece of flotsam in their path. She rolled
the numbers through her head, corrected for drift, alternated the harmonic arc
to compensate for the warp effect and carried the 34,217.937.
Tapping the small correction in to send the Hood 10,000 kilometers out of the
way of the little whatever it was, Cedria Zade yawned and then returned her
attention to the duty reports.
///
Many hundreds of trillions of miles away, there was a cottage on the shore of a
dark Trill lake. A Vulcan sat before the fire, he had had nothing better to do
with his time than to gather the wood while the worm worked. He stared at the
flames. The flames helped, they helped with the rage. His fingertips pressed
together in a meditative kata, one that didn't help much anymore. His eyes
reflected with fire, the skin under his scars twitching, occasionally tugging
lightly at his tightly drawn frown.
"She was walking towards me. Walking right to the copse." His voice cracked
with anger, his words dripped with emotion. His voice alone sent chills up
Alden's spine as the Trill poured over federation data packets searching for her
name.
"I will find it. It's just a matter of time."
"Twelve must die. Twelve signed and twelve must die." The Vulcan muttered, his
voice grating, his body tensed. He was always tensed, the emotions crawled over
his skin like an ever shifting disease. They gave him the clarity to see the
treachery, they gave him the fire that the wood so poorly reflected from his
gaze.
Alden was timid and careful, like most Trill hosts. But for this he risked the
Vulcan's presence. Zade had stolen him from him, well her at the time. One
hundred and one years ago. A single moment in a timid and careful life, and he
had lost his chance at love, at happiness, at bliss. A life of timid darkness
had left him with one untempered desire, to see Zade suffer. The amusing
vagaries of fortune had set him in the path of the Vulcan. An instrument of
violence that the Trill symbiosis commission could have never provided him.
Someone who could tread the dark path that Alden lacked the courage to walk.
His eyes chanced to spot a line on the display flickering before him, he paused
it and took it in, his excitement growing to a mild level but nevertheless one
he seldom frequented. He read the details of the intercepted missive to the
glowering Vulcan.
The Vulcan's grimace twitched, the corner of his lips rising slightly as the
wretched worm found the information he needed. His ancestors screamed in wicked
shivering delight in the dark places bared open in his mind. He stood and
glared into the fire almost regretting there was no need to gut the Trill before
him. The fires brightened in his fevered gaze, his quarry was located. He had
agony to deliver, vengeance to release from the chains that only barely
contained it. He whispered the name, a name that now echoed in the screams of
the ancestors, whispered it to the flames.
"Hood."
NRPG: Now approaching Celes, Captain.
Respectfully submitted;
David Kiel
Lt Cedria Zade,
NAV, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Security Shakedown==
===by Daniel Belin===
SD 2261.036
Scene: Cargo Bay One
Shipboard Time: 0600
"At attention!" Belted out Master Chief Cassie Pollack. She had a feeling that DeSimms was angry after the debacle on the planet, and her position as SECXO was in jeopardy. Around her, the 230 people who were the 'redshirts' on board the HOOD snapped nervously into attention. They were whispering, so she guessed that everyone else was as nervous as she was.
DeSimms walked in wearing his security divisional jumpsuit. He looked at the crowd as he walked to the podium set up in front of the security department. Not a whisper could be heard. DeSimms started, "What I saw on Arcturus was unacceptable. What should have taken twenty men took forty men, and ended up in a disaster, both logistically and tactically nonetheless. Understood?"
"Sir!" Yelled the Redshirts.
"I am also tired of hearing these damn Dead Redshirt jokes," said DeSimms. Now was the critical moment in his speech, and he said it bluntly, "And those jokes are based on the fact that on average, Security is the least trained, most inexperienced department in Starfleet."
A murmur rose up among the enlisted. Discontent among some, but also a sense of strained agreement with DeSimms words.
"However, I am not consigning this department to the rubble heap permanently. I am going to begin a major reform of this entire department, effective immediately," DeSimms now looked at the officers, "Security will no longer be divided into squads under the command of officers. One hundred and fifty of you will immediately be assigned to protect sensitive areas on the Hood as well as provide order in the case of a ship wide emergency. Fifty of you will be assigned to logistics and operations planning, as well as the conducting of investigations. Ten more of you will be responsible for working with the engineering division in emergency planning. Five of you will train crew from other departments in proper emergency protocol."
A look of surprise dawned over the department. They were being given menial tasks after all. To quell this, DeSimms very directly said, "Get over it, you'll be promoted out of this job into another department soon. Unless you choose to stay, of course."
Suddenly, a newer crewman in the back yelled, "There are sixteen people left, what about them?"
"Yes. The following people I want to see in Briefing Room Four immediately," said DeSimms. A collective gasp was issued from some of the more inexperienced crewman,who worried their job may be lost. DeSimms did not take notice, "Wilkins. DeBruzzo. Pollock. Lowl. Cafferties. Taber. Manuel. Baer. Mills. S'Theltek. Morton. Del Toro. Scheler. Jefferies. Wilcox. Elmore."
"Dissmissed!" Yelled DeSimms, "The rest of you will recieve your assignments tomorrow."
NRPG: Doing some departmental development. Hope to have another post out soon
--
Daniel Belin
John DeSimms
SEC Officer
USS HOOD
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Briefing==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2260.036
Scene: Briefing Room One
“Thank you all for coming.”  Jack said as he took his seat after pouring himself a cup of coffee and grabbing a few sandwiches from the small buffet the stewards had put out.  “The good news is that this should be a fairly quick briefing, assuming you’ve all read the mission orders I forwarded along to you.”
“They were a pager turner sar.”  Stile quipped
“To recap we are on standard patrol mission of the Celes System.”  Jack had been disappointed when he had first seen the mission orders but he found that they were starting to grow on him.  It would could to spend a few weeks not having to face death or make decisions that affected the Federation, or would haunt him for the rest of his life.  And given the remoteness of the location he was certain the colonists and miners would be happy to see them.  “Celes, as you all have read is home to three mining facilites and two colonies.  We’ll spend the first two weeks visiting these locations and the final week letting Lieutenant Hemux and her department survey the Sonata Nebula.”
“We’re looking forward to it captain!”  The Denobulean beamed.
“I hope you’re looking forward to trying to police your people; there is only so much sensor time they’ll get to use!”  Merrick said with a chuckle.
“We’re all scientists I’m sure everyone will cooperate.”  The first officer’s chuckle spread around the table.
Jack turned to Gar.  “Commander, I know you’ve seen the shopping list the colonists have supplied, I’m also anticipating they’ll be looking to us for minor repairs and equipment upgrades where possible.  Any issues?”
Gar shook his head and Jack couldn’t tell what he was thinking.  “Engineering teams will be ready to go when we arrive.  I’m sure we will be able to take care of any problems they are having.”
“Good.”  Jack answered before turning to DeSimms.  “One problem the first mining facility is having is periodic house calls from Nausican raiders.  Apparently every three months or so a small contingent of heavily armed Nausican’s beam down bully everyone around for a few hours and make off with a weeks worth of dilithium.  They’re calling it protection payments.    The miners tried to fight back the first few times with predictable results, now they’ve put it down as the Price of Business and they keep a small inventory set aside to ‘donate’ to the Nausicans when they arrive.  This should be stopping soon as Starfleet has assigned a couple of destroyers to patrol Celes permanently however they will likely be two months behind us.  In the meantime, John, I’d like your department to provide a few advisors to the miners and help them come up with some defensive plans.  They don’t have anything in the way of anti-space weapons, nor will we be providing it, they are looking at ground defense tactics etc.  They know they aren’t soldiers and don’t want to be, but they’re tired of having their lunch money stolen and they’d like to given the bully a black eye.”
“That could escalate things for the minors.”  Sean said.
Jack nodded.  “They’ve built a ‘safe room’ in the facilty.  Apparenlty it would take days for anyone to breach it.”  He turned back to DeSimms.  “Check on that.  They just want to be able to stand up to the pirates nothing heroic.  You know Nausicans they’re tough but not stupid.  According to Intel the only reason they’ve been harassing the Celes system is that the Orions moved into the adjacent systems and hammered them.  If they know their not getting a free meal ticket in Celes then they’ll move on.  And if they don’t get that message the first time they will when the two destroyers show up looking for their hideout.”
“Understood sir.” 
Jack turned to Stile.  “And finally doctor I imagine your teams will be busy with the required physicals of the miners and the colonists on Yulu Four.”  He snapped his fingers.  “That reminds me, Yulu Four is a small colony still living out of habitat domes but apparently Lyren Two is quite the Garden of Eden so we will be utilizing it for shore leave.  So,”  he turned to Gar, “the faster your people are at the mining facilites the more time we’ll have  for shore leave.”
“Thanks.”  Gar growled.
Jack grinned.  “And that is the gist of it.  Questions, comments?”
<<<NRPG>>>
Just a bit of catch up now that I feel somewhat alive again.
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
Commanding, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Just Doing My Job==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.038
Scene: Main Briefing Room
As the meeting broke up Jack motioned over to Lieutenant (jg) Steering.  “Lieutenant would you mind staying behind for a moment?”
“Yes sir.”  She replied as she lowered her self back into her seat. 
“I was going over your report detailing HOOD’s time in dock and I wondering why it so incomplete.”  Jack sipped his coffee to hide his smile as he watch the normally imperturbable helm officer blink in confusion.
“Sir,… uh, I don’t believe I understand captain.”
“What I’m wondering Mr. Steering is why you have sold yourself so short?  According to Commander Compass’ report you took a great many duties upon yourself and in doing so saved myself and particularly Commander Gar no end of headaches.”
“Captain, Commander Compass was in command and I worked to assist him where I could.”
“Yes he was and according to Mr. Compass he did,” Jack picked up the datapadd next to him, “ ‘a piss poor job of it until Lieutenant Steering kicked me in the ass and made me realize what an idiot I was.’  He goes on from there but I think you get the gist.”  He set the padd back down.  “Comments?”
Kim took a few minutes to consider and found that she had none and too many all at the same time.  “Captain I think Mark may have been exaggerating things to an extent and..”
Jack waved her quiet.  “Don’t go out of your way to protect him.  He is doing ok and I recommended him for the job on DAUNTLESS *after* he came to me with his report.  He was very concerned that I was aware of just how good on officer you are and what and asset I have on my staff.  In short he kicked me in the ass.  You are a good officer Kim and while I knew that I wasn’t really doing anything about it.  Its the job of both Commander Merrick and myself to shepard you along.  We haven’t been doing that so I want you to know that you are appreciated and it’s our goal to make a good officer great.  To that end we will be increasing your command responsibilities if you feel you are up to it?”
Kim beamed.  “I am sir!”
“Good.  First lesson, loyalty to your fellow officers is both expected and commendable but never at the expense of the ship.  You dealt with the problem and that is good, but I need to know about all issues that come up so don’t try to hide or sugar coat things.  Understood?”
“I do.”
Jack leaned forward and his command face dropped.  “Kim I know it is often hard to find the line between being a good officer and a rat but the line is there.”
“Thank you captain.”
Jack rose from his seat.  “Good!  Now if I were you I’d take this time to enjoy what ever free time you have.  Once Commander Merrick gets a hold of you and starts dropping all his tasks on you I don’t think you’ll know what day of the week it is!”
<<<NRPG>>>
Just some fluff before we get going with the next mission.
Any more on the briefing before we move on?
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
Commanding, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Getting To The Heart Of The Matter==
===by Steve Apple===
SD: 2261.038
Scene: Outside Main Briefing Room
Corbett exited the conference room with the rest of the senior staff. Rubbing his eyes he could feel the hangover he had managed to keep at bay during the briefing threaten to take over with a mighty force. The coffee had helped, but he was definitely going to need his hangover recipe and soon. He watched as all the other officers except Sean Merrick dispersed and went their separate ways once they reached the corridor. None of them seemed to mind the fact that this mission was mundane and could have easily been carried out by a supply vessel with a corpsman and not a fully staffed Constitution Class heavy cruiser.
“I should have you court marshaled and phasered!” Merrick said turning to Corbett.
“Right now you’d be doing me a favor.” Corbett sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Since my infractions are frequent and severe, which one of them has got you all riled this time.”
“It wasn’t bad enough that you had me quarantined in sickbay, but to tell Lt. Commander Grey that I had a psychosexual issue. Damn it man the woman kept trying to psychoanalyze me for four painful hours.”
“You wouldn’t tell your bartender or your doctor so I had no choice, but to bring in the big guns.”
“I think you derive some sick pleasure from torturing me like that.”
“You are very wrong.”
“So you’re denying it.”
“No not at all; however it’s not just me sar, the Captain has been enjoying this as well.”
“I knew it. You two SOB’s are in for it, just you wait.”
“Sean before you draw up your battle plans I want you to think about this. Both Jack and I are concerned about you. All joking aside over the last several months you’ve had trauma after trauma thrust upon you…”
“So has everyone else.” Merrick interrupted.
“No doubt, but there is something else.”
“What else?”
“The first thing out of your mouth to Mother was Survivor’s guilt.”
“Stile stop right there, who the hell wouldn’t have that after seeing almost their entire command staff and friends butchered by terrorists.”
Corbett took a quick look around to make sure no one else was in earshot. “Sean I don’t think this is the place to discuss it.”
Merrick looked around them as well. “You started this so finish it.”
“Alright then, I think this is about your ex-wife not what happened on Monil IV.”
Merrick let out a frustrated chuckle. “If I didn’t find that ludicrous I’d knock you on your ass right here.”
Corbett sighed as he pushed his hat to the back of his head. “It wouldn’t change anything. I’m just asking you as your friend to think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about.” Merrick said turning to leave.
“Sean there’s no denying the incredible resemblance between Kiska and Jeri.”
Merrick stopped and turned slowly back to Corbett. “And just how would you know that doctor.”
“Her picture, it’s in your file. As ships doctor I am required to know both your psychological and physical work ups.”
“Frak you Stile.” Merrick shouted then turned and walked away.
Corbett said nothing he just sighed and turned to head back to sickbay when he ran straight into Lt. Steering.
“Sorry doctor.” Steering said backing away, her eyes lowered.
“Always a pleasure to run into you Kim; however now that I’ve done so literally I must say…”
“Doctor,” Steele shouted from the conference room. “Do you mind seeing me for a moment?”
Corbett tipped his hat. “Ah duty calls.”
“Another time then doctor.” Steering smiled as she made her way down the hall.
Corbett entered the conference room and sat down across from the Captain.
“She’s on her way to becoming an outstanding officer and I don’t need you corrupting her Stile.”
“Me. Jack how could you say such as thing.” Corbett said momentarily looking at the Captain with a somber face before he broke into laughter. “Never mind, even I couldn’t keep a straight face after that.”
Steele took a sip of coffee. “Problem with Sean?”
“So I take it you heard our little exchange.”
“Just the last part.” Steel said putting his cup down.
“Things didn’t go well with Mother?”
“Depends on how you look at it.” Corbett said pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“That’s not an answer.”
“I think Mother inadvertently uncovered the root of Sean’s issue.”
Steele lifted an eyebrow. “Go on.”
“Sean is still grieving over the loss of his ex-wife. I think he suppressed it and seeing Kiska opened the flood gates.”
“What’s Saxman have to do with this?”
“She bears a striking resemblance to his ex-wife, you didn’t know that?” Corbett asked in surprise
“No,” Steele answered. “He transferred here almost a year after she died. He never talked about it, or even had any pictures of her in his quarters.”
“In all fairness,” Corbett replied. “I don’t think even Sean knew this was an issue.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means Jack that Sean never really dealt with her death and now 2 years later is finally having to come to grips with it.”
Steele nodded almost imperceptibly. “Can he serve as XO?”
“I think so; he’s done a good job so far.” Corbett said taking a sip from his cup. “He knows what the problem is now. Oh he’ll deny it for a bit longer, but eventually he’ll have to come to grips with it. I’ll keep an eye on him and at the first sign of trouble I’ll relieve him.”
“I’ll expect that.” Steele said leaning forward. “Now on to other matters, as we discussed last night you and I have some sleuthing ahead of us. Our first stop is going to be an automated mining facility located in the outskirts of the Celes asteroid belt.”
“Ah yes the intelligence listening outpost.”
“Well at least you weren’t too drunk to remember that. It’s automated, with a one Miss Calvaster as its sole operator.”
Corbett’s ears picked up a bit. “Did you say Miss?”
“Easy there cowboy, even though she’s female she’s still one of the boys in black. You need to keep it in your pants for a change.”
“Sar, I make no promises if she’s hot.”
Steele couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. “You, Gar and I will beam over under the mission pretense of a medical checkup and resupply. Once there she’ll transfer the DNA data for you to review and the warp signature that Gar and I will need to puzzle over.”
“Have you discussed this with him?” Corbett asked.
“No not yet. I think I’ll let him take a crack at this unbiased by any reports that this warp signature might have come from a Constitution Class star ship.”
Corbett nodded his head in understanding. “We have a number of stops to make after that and as the ships head doctor…”
“Let me stop you right there.” Steele said. “Assign your other doctors to the duty of performing physicals to the colonies and other mining facilities. I want your priority being that DNA sample.”
“So I take it no shore leave on Lyren II until I’m done.”
“Depending on what we find, none of us may get shore leave on Lyren II.”
“Ah yes I see, welcome to Star Fleet have a nice day.”
“Well then you should have gotten student loans to pay for Med-school instead of the military, you cheap bastard.”
Corbett had to chuckle at that. “So when are we heading down.”
“We transport out in 3 hours, so I’d take whatever tranquilizers you need now.”
“You know about that huh.”
“Yeah I do, now go away.” Steele said.
“What happened to dismissed?”
“That term is only used for real officers.” Steele said smiling.
Respectfully Submitted,
Steve Apple
Stile Corbett, MD
CMO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Quiet Thoughts==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.038
Scene: Main Briefing Room
Jack watched the doctor leave and tapped the table lightly with his right hand long after the doors had swished closed.  “Frak!”  He finally said quietly as he got up to refill his coffee cup.  When exactly was it going to be fun to command he wondered?  Even a ‘milk run’ mission was going to cause him sleepless nights and countless hours of self-recriminations and worry.  He looked down at the dark liquid in his cup.  He’d probably have to start easing off on his favourite vice.  Four cups in an hour coupled with the daily stress of the job was beginning to have his stomach sending out a yellow alert.  And there was no way he was going to ask Stile for any medication to relieve the problem.
He sat back down and continued to drum his hands along the table top as he considered the issues of the morning.  First off he was worried about Sean both as his executive officer and his friend.  He felt a considerable pang of guilt at the way he had helped maneuver Merrick into the situation he had with Kiska. Knowing that it hadn’t been out of malice or that their meeting would have inevitably happened didn’t lessen the remorse he felt.  He hoped Stile was correct and Sean would be able to handle the revelation now that it was out in the open.  Jack had known Sean long enough to have a pretty good feel of what the man could handle and what he couldn’t and he was pretty sure there’d be some bumpy moments but Sean would come through and likely be stronger for the journey.
Besides, which of these characters could fill in as X/O if Sean had to be relieved from duty?  Jack rubbed his chin at that one.  Gar was the obvious choice if only from rank and experience.  But he needed Gar where he was, not to mention the fact he would be too scared to ask the explosive Andorian.  He chuckled as he pictured that scene.  Probably the new NAV would be the best option he realized.  It would probably throw a few noses out of joint amongst the HOOD veterans but that had its own benefits as well.  He shook off the thought confident that it was not a decision he was likely to be faced with.
Next, there was the mission within a mission.  A covert mission that even now he was certain he didn’t have all the facts on.  He trusted his officers implicitly and the fact that he wasn’t able to fill them in on the possible obstacles that lay ahead rankled him.  He valued their advice and would argue to his superiours that the mission could be conducted much more effectively if all of the team had the information they needed.  Perhaps this Miss Calvaster would be able to shed more light on the situation
Draining the remains of his cup, and grimacing as his stomach reminded him of the pitfalls of too much coffee.  He rose from his seat and headed for the bridge.  For the next three hours at least he’d sit in his chair and watch the stars fly by.  And enjoy his job while he could.
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
Commanding, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Untitled==
===by Daniel Belin===
SD: 2261.038
Scene: Security Office, USS HOOD
DeSimms sat at the desk, thinking. There was no way the Hood being sent this way simply on a house call. There was something much deeper going on, although what was yet to be determined. The Captain was seeming to be ignoring this, or at least hiding it very well. Whatever it was, it seemed to DeSimms that this sector of space was a lot more interesting than anyone would let on. His new second in command, Gene Lowl, was sitting opposite to him. DeSimms wondered if it had been a bad idea to tell Lowl his concerns, but Lowl seemed to have agreed and was taking it very seriously. In front of them lay four data cards and two viewscreens. DeSimms looked to Lowl, "Put the first one in."
"Yessir," said Lowl. Onscreen flashed the maps and history of this space sector. DeSimms scanned the text for several minutes, taking intermittent sips from his coffee. Lowl was absorbed in the text, and after about ten minutes his eyes finally broke from the text.
DeSimms asked, "Analysis, Mr. Lowl?
"The Ceres sector was largely unnoticed until about fifty years ago, when the NCC-120 did a survey of the parsec and saw the Sonata Nebula. The USS Potemkin was then ordered here and did a more detailed scientific survey of the nebula. At this point the Ceres asteroid belt, which orbits the nebula was discovered. The asteroids all had extremely high concentrations of dilithium, latinum, pergium, and deuterium."
"At which point the miners moved in."
"The Orions, who have a large presence in the next sector over set up operations on several asteroids. However, they moved out after the Federation created Starbase 25 a few light years away. At this point, Federation miners moved in and have been operating ever since."
"Possible threats?"
"This space borders a region of space that is...lawless. The Orions, Naussicans and their ilk have been having skirmishes and trade conflicts for years in the surrounding sector. Neither side muscled in on the area, however until a few months ago."
"Why?"
"The presence of Starbase 25 in the area used to scare them until it was relocated and a new mission assigned to the starbase. You see, a few months ago, the Enterprise encountered a Romulan Bird of Prey. Ever since, the Starbase has been focused only on the neutral zone."
"Speaking of that, the neutral zone runs close to the Ceres sector," said DeSimms, nodding.
"Yes. The Romulans are considered a threat, but have never shown any intent-"
"Let me stop you right there, Lowl," said DeSimms, "The Sonata nebula offers a perfect point of entry for the Romulans. This sector is a gold mine, and it seems to me like the gold isn't well protected."
Lowl smiled and simply turned to the computer on the desk, "Computer Tie-In."
[[tied in]]
"What is Hoods destination?"
[[Asteroid 291, Ceres Cluster]]
"Analysis. What is on Asteroid 291?"
[[Automated mining machinery.]]
"Now, Sir. Why would we be going to a automated facility before anything else?" asked Lowl.
"Good job, Ensign," said DeSimms. He stood up and walked out the door, with a feeling of regret. The blackshirts were getting involved. So much for a relaxed mission.
Daniel  Belin
John DeSimms
SEC, USS HOOD
NCC-1703
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Relationships==
===by Daniel Belin===
SD 2261.038
Scene: Mess Hall
DeSimms plugged in the card for a egg and bacon sandwich with coffee. The lights flashed in sequence, and out popped a sandwich with the brown liquid that DeSimms thought tasted more like hard water than coffee. He sat down at a seat, and watched a life sciences guy engage in a meaningful conversation with a strikingly beautiful blueshirt. He took a bite out of his sandwich, and savored the cheddar, egg, and meat blending on his tongue.
Although DeSimms did not like to think of himself as a social misfit, his relationships with women always seemed to fall apart. In his life, he had plenty of one night stands and attempted long distance relationships, but it never seemed to work out. It was always hard to maintain love for someone when all he saw around him was death and destruction. Even after he left special forces, he had not even given thought to his personal life since he stepped on the Hood. Frankly, he didn't know how Corbett found time for that sort of thing.
He had tried to strike it off with the new navigator, Cedria. He knew that it would never get off the ground. She was an interesting conversationalist, but she had seen enough in her 600 years that DeSimms wasn't needed or wanted in that menagerie of partners.
The only woman that ever had stayed in a relationship with him for a prolonged time was a charming woman from Starfleet Intelligence. A few years younger than DeSimms, she always seemed to have the answer for his problems. Not to mention, she looked good. The relationship fell apart when DeSimms left the Recon Teams. He was offered a billet with the Blackshirts, but turned it down. Of course she was upset, as it was an opportunity to serve together, but she did not terminate the relationship. They simply could not keep in contact because of her extremely classified set of jobs. DeSimms always remembered Agent Ira Calvaster, and hoped that she remembered him.
DeSimms shook his head. He should stick to more mundane matters, like eating his sandwich.
Daniel Belin
John DeSimms
SEC, USS HOOD
NCC-1703
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: A Date with Miss Blackshirt==
===by Daniel Belin===
One Year Earlier
Scene: The Rooftop Grille, Antares III
“John, get the rib-eye,” said Ira Calvaster, who was taking intermittent sips from a glass of Chateau Picard, “It is simply delicious, and made from real earth cow.”
“I'll be sure to order it” said DeSimms, smiling. He took a sip from a drink he had whenever he was in safe territory, a bourbon on the rocks.
The waiter came over and asked, “Are you ready to order?”
Ira, with her exotic taste in food, ordered an alien meat. The waited turned to DeSimms, who glanced at the menu one more time and said, “I'll have, uh...the rib-eye?”
“Excellent choice sir. May I recommend a wine to go with that?”
“Sure,” said DeSimms, “I'll have whatever you recommend, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Ira looked at DeSimms and asked, “You like wine?”
“Not that white Serbian wine you forced me to drink.”
Ira laughed. She remembered that, and how DeSimms stayed up all night vomiting. That sure shattered the romantic night, “OK, that might have gone a little bad.”
“No crap. It was 300 year old drain cleaner.”
And so the conversation continued for twenty minutes. Then the waiter came back, balancing two plates. The rib-eye was set in front of John, and made his mouth water almost instantly. Ira looked at the rib-eye, “I said it would be good.”
“Sure looks good,” said DeSimms. His hand then quickly moved itself under the table. It came back up with a seven-inch blade Kabar knife, which certainly turned some eyes in his direction. He sliced into the steak, took a small piece and brought it to his mouth. The rib-eye melted on his tongue and the flavors swirled to fill every corner of the oral cavity. The smoke of the fire used to cook it, the meat, and the dry rub mixed in near perfect harmony, tickling his palate and stimulating the senses. DeSimms swallowed and looked to Ira, “Remind me to take your culinary advice.”
“Absolutely,” said Ira. She smiled and asked about his recent work, “Hows it going in Stryker platoon?”
“Classified,” quipped John, before taking another forkful of meat. He swallowed, “More rescue missions. Civilians seem to be getting in trouble than ever nowadays.”
“Not surprising. Youth don't respect the indigenous.”
“So true,” said John, who was taking a drink from the wineglass, “It's funny how they're grateful for their rescue until you turn them over to a constable for violation of the Prime Directive.”
Ira noticed DeSimms plate. The steak was gone. DeSimms used a cloth napkin to clean his knife before sheathing it. Ira asked, “Dessert?”
“Dessert? I'll think I'll get some later. In our room,” DeSimms winked.
Ira raised an eyebrow, “Wait a little longer, Rambo.”
“Sure, Agent Calvaster,” quipped DeSimms.
Respectfully,
Daniel Belin
John DeSimms
USS HOOD, NCC-1701


==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Escaped Killer...Rabbits?!==
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Escaped Killer...Rabbits?!==
Line 2,069: Line 3,106:
ASR ORIGINS
ASR ORIGINS


==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Another You Another Me==
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Another You Another Me - JP==
===by Andy Catterick and Steve Apple===
===by Andy Catterick and Steve Apple===


Line 2,156: Line 3,193:
ASR Origins
ASR Origins


==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: A Visit From Christmas Past==
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: A Visit From Christmas Past - JP==
===by Lena Rose and Brian V. Mansur===
===by Lena Rose and Brian V. Mansur===


Line 2,255: Line 3,292:
ASR ORIGINS
ASR ORIGINS


==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Fireside Chat==
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Fireside Chat - JP==
===by Lena Rose and Brian V. Mansur===
===by Lena Rose and Brian V. Mansur===
   
   
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