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=June 2009=
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: And Then It All Went To Hell==
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: And Then It All Went To Hell==
===by [[Mansur_Brian|Mansur, Brian]]===
===by [[Mansur_Brian|Mansur, Brian]]===
Line 3,331: Line 3,333:
LCDR Sean Merrick
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO/NAV, USS HOOD
FO/NAV, USS HOOD
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: There Will Be Blood==
===by [[Mansur_Brian|Mansur, Brian]]===
<PRE>
Scene: Klingon Ship Yards, Jutoige System.
SD 2260.168
Klingon Commodore Koreth took a minute to appreciate the magnificent view
outside his shore office's window. He beheld the empire's newest B-10
Dreadnaught, the BLOOD OATH. Its gleaming greenish grey hull shown brilliantly
in the worklights of drydock and the sight swelled his heart with pride.
All around the B10 were signs of feverish activity. He watched flickering
welding arcs across the dorsal port nacelle: extra armor plating being applied.
Shuttles and cargo pods glided gracefully to and from loading bays. Warriors
and technicians could be seen moving across the airlock bridge.
He checked his chrono. The BLOOD OATH would be fully provisioned for her first
mission in less than forty hours.
Wholly satisfied with his view, Koreth didn't even bother to turn when his aide,
Captain Par'rick, entered the office.
"My lord," Par'rick began, "Word came just a few minutes ago. The High
Chancellor has given us the order to launch."
Koreth allowed the side of his mouth to creep upward. He gripped at the hilt of
his d'k tahg in anticipation. "Are the Federation forces sending what we had
hoped for?"
"According to Intelligence, we can expect one of their newest battlecruisers to
be in the area sometime in the next few months."
Now Koreth was smiling. The promise of battle called out to his blood. "Do we
have the name of the ship yet?"
"Not as yet. We may not get the name until after the operation has begun."
Koreth was in too good a mood now, so he merely shrugged. "A minor ingredient.
The dish will hardly be lacking for it."
"As you say, my lord," Captain Par'rick hadn't seen his commander this abulient
since, well, since the NARANDA incident.
"What of the supply tugs," Koreth waved at the flotilla of box-like vessels
several bays down from the B10. "Will they be ready in time?"
Captain Par'rick wanted to laugh. "The new support commander is living up to his
reputation. I hear he actually skinned a dock loader this morning. The pelt is
still hanging in the muster deck.
Koreth snarled approvingly, "Then we will rely on the logistics train to leave
with us on schedule for a change." Turning now to his subordinate, Koreth
remarked, "New blood. New motivation."
"Indeed, my lord."
Koreth walked up to Par'rick and clasped his shoulder. "You see my old friend,
our humiliation at Nero's hand is serving a better purpose just as I said." He
let go and moved to his desk. On it lay a piece of his old warbird, the
Mar'i'kep, which he had lost to Nero. He fingered it affectionately. Through it
called the voices of a hundred warriors. In his mind, they shouted,
"Redemption!" After such a crushing defeat, only great deeds could win back the
honor they had lost. This mission would be the first step toward rebuilding that
honor.
"Let me know when the provisioning is completed and I'll make my inspection,"
Koreth said, snapping out of his reverie.
Par'rick took note of his dismissal, saluted with a sharp "Qapla' joHwI!" and
exited the Commodore's office. Koreth returned to his battle plans.
It would not be long before the Klingons Empire would be ready for its war of
conquest.
Ironically, that pa-TAK Nero had made it all possible. Power often made one
foolish. It had certainly made the mightiest of fools out of the Klingon High
Council. They had been the ones to blindly send the bulk of their fleet against
Nero. Instead of testing their enemy first for weaknesses, everyone from the
chancellor to the council to the fleet commodore had agreed to simply throw
everything they could at the brazen intruder.
That day they had learned the value of probing their enemy first. But the lesson
had cost the Klingon Empire far too much. For their ignominious failure, much of
the council had been swiftly put to death in an unrelenting string of Succession
Challenges that lasted two days. Klingon honor demanded no less to remedy their
shame. After all, a mighty Klingon armada had been defeated by just one single
ship. By a single *MINING* ship! BY A SINGLE KAH'LES DAMNED *ROMULAN* MINING
SHIP!!!
Thank Kah'less that the new Chancellor was an able warrior: bold but shrewd. At
his direction, Koreth would lure one of the Federation's best ships into battle
along the deep space frontier. It would serve as an effective test of both
sides' newest starship designs, tactics, and training.
Koreth almost envied his Federation prey. Their valiant deaths would be fit for
a Klingon. But he did not expect them to appreciate the glorious defeat he would
give them.
NRPG: A mission brief will be forthcoming in the next day or two. Basically, we
are being tasked to find out why some deep range colonies are silent. Time to
go forth and do great deeds!
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO/NAV, USS HOOD
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Cleanup in Aisle Everywhere"==
===by [[Lusby_Scott|Lusby, Scott]]===
<PRE>
SD: 2260.168
MD: -5.1314
Setting: Main engineering, O-Deck, USS HOOD
Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth was in a decidedly POOR mood. And, as he
rubbed his pale-blue head, it was not getting any better.
So far, in his first few days as the Chief of Engineering, he's had two crew
injured- one serious enough to put him out of commission for several weeks-
and cascading failures of terminals, EPS taps and junctions all over the
ship.
Surely the gods must be testing him...
A few good things came out of everything, however: first and most
importantly, they learned that they had a top-notch doctor amongst them.
Which, on a starship, was good to know.
Secondly, Gar continued to muse, the cascading failure of systems and taps
ended up being a simple explanation: Cory Campbell.
Th'elenth had wanted to tear the sorry excuse for an officer apart for
accidentally activating the ship's 'chaos system'- no small feat seeing as
how the button to activate the system was under one of those ubiquitous
clear plastic shields. True, not the most fool-proof of systems, but still
not easy to accidentally set off.
Of course, now he would make certain the system could not be set off by
accident again- especially if Cory Campbell was going to continue to be
working in the same area.
He glanced down at the tablet in front of him: the repair schedule, and it
was full. The DamCon teams were not very happy at all, but Gar managed to
turn the whole matter into a combat exercise, so at least there was
something productive there as well: his teams would be well-drilled in
combat damage control procedures...
At that moment, Th'elenth's stomach growled. Without a second thought, he
dropped the tablet onto his desk, and lifted himself from his chair. He
walked out of his office, and called to his assistant. "I'm at lunch- don't
bother me unless the ship's about to explode."
As he walked through the doors of engineering and into the corridor, there
was a part of him that thought that that exact occurrence might just happen.
*****
MD: -5.1326
Setting: Officer's Mess, D-Deck, USS HOOD
Gar walked through the doors and into the mess hall, hoping that perhaps a
nice bite to eat would improve his disposition.
He ordered his food; when it came out, he brought the plate up to his nose,
and inhaled deeply, grinning.
"And what are you grinning at today, Gar?" ARr'Rhiana Hemux asked, mimicking
his won grin.
"I acquired a taste for le-matya chops several years ago," he said. "Can't
get'em any more, but fortunately the food replicators have them in their
program." He paused, shrugging. "Not quite the same as the real thing, you
understand, but an acceptable alternative- especially after the couple of
days we've had."
Hemux nodded. "I hear that," she said as she ordered her lunch.
The two of them sat at an empty table and, in between morsels of meat,
vegetables and starches, had an interesting conversation about nothing in
particular.
By the time lunch was over, Gar was in a decidedly better mood.
<Dave? Care to add anything? Specifics of the conversation? Warp
theories? :) >
<<NRPG>>
All- Just getting something short out before we get into our mission. :)
Respectfully submitted,
-- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth
Chief Engineer
USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: You're a Big Hero!==
===by [[Cajiuat_Eric|Cajiuat, Eric]]===
<PRE>
SD 2260.169
"I'm telling you, it WASN'T me!"  Chance Ventura pounded on his cell wall
in frustration, "You've got the wrong guy!"
"Sure, sure," the burly security officer on duty (whom Chance learned
earlier was named Nek, probably for the massive column of flesh that
supported his bald head) didn't even look up from his PADD as he sipped a
cold cup of coffee.  "It was someone ELSE who started the fight in the
bar... he just looked a lot like you."
Chance ran his fingers through his hair angrily.  "Well, no, that was me,
but the other guy was hassling some girl."
The security officer didn't even look up.  "You're a big hero."
"You are SO messing with Starfleet protocol here, sir!"  Chance tried one
more time, "I'm the new helmsman for the Hood and YOU'RE going to be the
one explaining to the Captain why we're still sitting in spacedock instead
of being enroute to our next mission.  Besides, I'm under his authority in
these matters, not yours!"
That actually provoked a response.  Unfortunately, it wasn't a good one.
"Oh really?"  Nek slipped his booted feet off his desk and spun in his
chair to face Chance for the first time.  "How much time do you need for
me to explain to you exactly how little Starfleet protocol means to mean? 
It didn't stop me from getting kicked out of the Academy, and it's not
going to help you out here.  Not one bit.  So sit down, relax and if you
know what's good for you, shut up and we'll talk in the morning."
Respectfully,
Eric Cajiuat
Ensign Chance Ventura
HELM, USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: And So It Begins==
===by [[Catterick_Andy|Catterick, Andy]]===
<PRE>
SD: 2260.170.20:30
MD: 0.07:00
Scene: Admiral Palmer’s Briefing Room
“Have a seat gentlemen.”  Plamer said without preamble as Steele and
Merrick entered her briefing room.  “Captain what is HOOD’s status?”
“We’re ready to depart at the conclusion of this meeting admiral.”
“Good.  You’ll need to.”  She turned her attention to her computer
terminal and entered a few commands before swiveling in her chair to
regard the wall monitor that had just come to life.  The top half
showed a large expanse in red below a similar one shaded in blue. 
A white line meandered across the screen dividing them roughly in half
denoting the neutral zone between the two polities.  “This is Outpost
five, six and seven.  Over the past three weeks each of them has
dropped off the grid.  Five and six just went silent.  We got this
from seven.” 
The view changed to a still shot of what was obviously an outpost
control room.  The room was full of smoke and at least two fires were
raging in the scattered debris in the background.  Several officers
were slumped over controls one with a large piece of a support strut
impaled through his back.  Steele’s first thought was, ‘that’s Tom
Robertson’.  They had been friends in the Academy and had occasionally
bumped into each other over the years.  He has heard Tom had been
promoted to command of an outpost but he didn’t know it was out on the
Neutral Zone.  That was a prestigious posting, and a dangerous one. 
The video began.  “….repeat we our under attacker by unknown vessel or
vessels.  Re….immediate assistance.  Came out of nowh…irst sign was
subspace jam...  sensors picked up large vessel but am unable to
ascertain class or origin.”  The room bucked after taking another hit
and someone off camera began to scream.  “Command we need…”  The screen
went dark and Steele knew he had just watched his friend Tom die.
“Comments?”
“A probe.”  Steele answered. “Testing out defences.  Possibly clearing
a path for an incursion.”  Steele pointedly did not use the word
invasion.  “Or maybe provoking us, seeing what our response will be.”
“You think the Klingons want to tangle with a CONSITUTION?  See if they
are up to all the hype?”  Merrick asked.
Steele nodded.  “Makes sense. Better to find out at a time of their
choosing rather then one beneficial to us.”
“That’s is Commands conclusions as well.  And while the general
consensus is that our attackers are Klingons there is no evidence
whatsoever that it is, other then the proximity to their space.”
“So they’ve wiped out three outposts to bait us.  Isn’t that an act of
war.”  Merrick asked.
“It is.”  Palmer agreed.  “If it was sanctioned by the Klingon government.”
Steele nodded.  “So if we go out there and they are able to take us out. 
No one knows anything and if we managed to identify them as Klingons and
send them packing?”
“Exactly.  The Klingon government denies any official knowledge of the
incursion and puts it down to an overzealous Klingon commander acting on
his own.”
“And the Federation isn’t going to push?  Anyone can see though that smoke
screen.”
“The Federation is not looking to start a war with the Klingons at this
time.  HOOD is the only starship in the area.  I’ve dispatched the
destroyers CUMBERLAND and DIEPPE to assist but they are several days behind. 
Given the nature of the threat we can’t seem to be hesitating.  We need to
respond quickly and decisively.  Your mission is to go out there ascertain
the situation and make sure that whoever it is that has launched these
attacks understands that we aren’t planning on allowing them through the
door.  Clear?”
“Yes sir.”  Steele answered.
“Good hunting gentlemen.”
*****                          *****                          *****
Scene: Main Corridor, Starbase 27.
            Jack flipped open his communicator.  “Steele to HOOD.”
            [HOOD here. Commander Th'elenth.]
            “Commander, Mr. Merrick and I are on our way back to the ship. 
As soon as we come aboard I want HOOD to break orbit.  Set course for the
neutral zone warp factor five.”
            [Understood captain.]
            “Thank you Gar.  Steele out.”  He flipped the communicator
closed and attached it to his waist belt.  “So what do you think?”
            “I think that I was expecting our first mission to be a milk run
and as much as I was dreading that being true I’m suddenly missing it. 
This has got nasty trap written all over it.”
            “It does.” Steele agreed.  “I just hope we arrive before
Outpost 8 goes down.”
            “At least they have much better defences then the other three.” 
Outposts 5, 6 and 7 had been dug into large stationary asteroids. 
Outpost 8 was actually on a planet and was a fairly large facility and acted
as the headquarters for this section of the Neutral Zoan early warning grid. 
They had little in the way of weapons but their defensive shielding was
surprisingly strong.  They wouldn’t be able to hold off an attacker firing
from orbit forever.  But they could hold out much longer then their smaller
sisters.  Jack just hoped it would be long enough.
<<<NRPG>>>
And so it begins.
From here we will journey out towards Outpost 7 with the goal of finding any
evidence as to who the attacker is and where they are.  As we get closer we’ll
get an alert form Outpost 8 that they are under attack.  As we arrive we’ll
see a Klingon cruiser warping out of the system.  HOOD will stop in orbit long
enough to drop down a support team containing, engineers, medics and a large
security contingent. (perhaps the Klingons beamed down some of their troopers) 
From their HOOD will chase the cruiser. 
If you have a preference of where you want your character to be let me know. 
(I’m sure you can field a NPC or two so you can write for both submissions is
you so desire.)
Now who will command the Landing Party in this TOS era mission?  ;-)
Respectfully,
Andy
CDR Jack Steele
Acting CO
USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Saddle Up!==
===by [[Mansur_Brian|Mansur, Brian]]===
<PRE>
SD 2260.175
Scene: Conference Room, USS HOOD
"Captain on the deck!"
As one, the HOOD's senior staff jumped to their feet. Inwardly, Steele felt a
twinge of awe at the responsibility this simple act represented. It brought a
sense of "Oh crap, I really have to make this work or people die and the're
looking to me for direction." In that sobering light, the glory attached to
Captain's rank didn't seem all that important as it once did when he'd been a
junior officer.
Forcing doubt out of his mind, Steele went straight to his chair.
"Have a seat everyone. This will be quick."
He made a brief measuring survey of the faces at the table. Everyone seemed to
understand something serious was going down. He didn't disappoint them.
"Outposts 5, 6, and 7 along the farthest end of the Klingon Neutral Zone just
went silent. All within the last 48 hours." He heard a tiny gasp from
AR'Rhiana Hemux and Powers. Half of room traded astonished glances. Steele
raised his voice in urgency. "We have confirmation that Outpost 7 was attacked
by an unknown vessel. No word as yet on numbers 5 and 6 but we are assuming the
same happened there."
"Damn Klingons," DeSimms muttered. The comment drew murmurs of agreement.
"Probably," Steele concurred. "We're going to conduct search and rescue
beginning at Outpost 7. It's first on the road to Outpost 8 which is hollering
for some company. At each post along the way, LT ARr'Rahiana will scan for
evidence of whomever did this."
Steele took a breath.
"We're not at war yet, but we could very well be soon. Expect a fight. So,
while we're en route, I want all departments participating in the mass cal and
boarding party action drills Doc Corbett, DeSimms, and Merrick will be running.
Questions?"
NRPG: Everyone feel free to jump in on the fun with the drills. Post on that
will be forthcoming later today.
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO/NAV, USS HOOD NCC-1703
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Big Damn Drill - Red vs Gold! - JP==
===by [[Belin_Daniel|Belin, Daniel]]; [[Apple_Steve|Apple, Steve]]; [[Mansur_Brian|Mansur, Brian]]===
<PRE>
SD 2260.174
[ 24 Hours Before Mission Briefing in [ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Saddle Up! ]
Scene: Brig, USS HOOD
The door tone rang and DeSimms looked up from a pile of paperwork. Who the hell
needed him now, he wondered.
His first visitor that day had been a lovely young woman who turned out to be
his SECXO. His second, however, had been engineering's Now-Ensign Campbell.
That piece of work left him feeling less than hospitable. Still, he reflected,
the record on pretty things walking through his door did stand at 1 for 2. Not
too awful bad. So he pressed the ENTER button.
The man standing in the door wore a medical division uniform. His old-style
'cowboy' hat lent a air of boldness to his eyes. DeSimms assumed this was the
new medical officer, Dr. Stile Corbett. Swallowing his mild disappointment at
the doc not being a beautiful woman, he welcomed him in.
"What can I do for you, Doctor?"
"Lieutenant DeSimms, I prasume," Corbett drawled.
"That would be me."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the Doctor said with a hardy handshake.
Then he frowned and adjusted his hat. "I need your help with a matter of some
grave importance. After that mishap in engineering, I noticed that this ship is
a bit behind on its disaster response." Corbett suddenly noticed something over
DeSimms' shoulder.
"Is that a Colt Python on the wall back there?" he asked in awe.
"Why yes it is." DeSimms was tickled. He'd met precious few in Starfleet who
could appreciate a fine antique weapon. And the last person he'd expected to
notice his Python was a physician. He beamed. "It's the pride of my
collection. Matter of fact," he added with chagrin, "it is the only one that
works exactly as it's supposed to."
Corbett put his left boot on the chair next to him. The Security Chief raised
an eyebrow. "You might like this," Corbett said, pulling up his trouser leg
and slipping his revolver from its ankle holster. Gingerly, he handed it to
DeSimms. "This sar is a .38 Colt Cobra. It has been the backup gun for every
Texas Ranger named Corbett for the last 300 years. My daddy passed it to me just
before he died."
DeSimms took up the revolver almost reverently. "Very nice indeed doctor."
"Thank you sar. It is one of my prized pieces. More for sentimental reasons
than anything else, of course. Though I have to say the trigger action is very
smooth. It's nice to see someone else aboard who enjoys vintage firearms."
DeSimms handed back the Colt. Returning to business, he said, "So tell me,
where you want to go with these drills? If we are going to do full scale
emergency drills, we should also do heavy combat and security alert scenarios as
well."
"I agree," the doctor said. "The drill needs to be shipwide. The crew needs
to know what to do with the wounded in heavy combat.
"My plan is to set up mock triage and emergency surgical areas in cargo bays 4
through 6. From there, critical patients will be transferred to main sickbay for
further surgical and medical treatment. I will have 6 trauma teams dispatched to
critical areas of the ship to deliver immediate care and transport those
patients to the cargo bays. I wanted to cover some of the logistics with you.
With security drills added to the mix, we should get our people aware of each
other's deployment plans so that they aren't running over each other."
"I like it," DeSimms said. He moved over to his Colt Python and pulled it down
for Corbett to have a closer look. "Come to think of it, I wonder what the FO
would think about NAV and HELM playing our adversaries."
They both smiled wolfishly.
[ 6 hours AFTER the Mission Briefing in [ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Saddle Up! ]
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
Merrick eased himself into the captain's chair and played a finger over the
shipwide mic switch. The salutory "whooowuu" sounded through every deck and
cabin of the HOOD.
"Attention all hands," his voice echoed. He spared a quick wink at the doctor
standing by his side. The fun was about to begin. "This is the First Officer.
This is an exercise. General Quarters!"
Klaxons immediately blared and the bridge lights switched to crimson filters.
He went up to the helm station, tapped a sequence, then gripped the edge of the
station. The ship shuddered briefly.
The navigator on duty piped up. "Shields down, Commander. Damage to decks C,
D, J, and M."
"Dispatch damage control teams," he ordered. Presently, he slid back into his
chair and slapped a switch. "Merrick to transporter room. Ready with the first
wave of boarders."
[ I'm going to kick your ass, Merrick ] came Steele's mischievious reply. He
and ENS Ventura were leading the simulated Klingon attack. [ Transporting now.
]
A few moments passed.
"Intruder alert J deck, forward weapons control, sir," came Powers' cool voice
from Communications.
"Security teams to foward weapons," Merrick ordered. Aside to Corbett he added
conspiratorially, "Next time maybe we'll assault sick bay."
Corbett leaned in. "Where's tha sport in that? The medics would wipe you out
so fast that there would be nothing for anyone else to do but clean up the
mess."
Merrick smiled and waved him off. "Speaking of a mess." He hit the comm,
"ARr'Rhiana Hemux, cue your mass casualties." Then to Corbett he said, "Go
have fun doc."
NRPG (Brian): It's RED vs GOLD! Scott, you may have noticed that your damage
control teams are headed to J deck where the boarding parties are. Hope you're
with the redshirts. David, your science department casualties are also
role-playing there. Anyone can jump in on the action. Grab a phaser and set it
to stun!
Eric, you there buddy? You've got a team to lead into role-playing glory.
Andy, since the Gold shirts are pretending to be Klingons, Steele might want to
watch his back. Ventura's first duty as an officer is to assasignate him <EG>.
Respectfully Submitted Jointly by,
Daniel Belin
LT John DeSimms
SEC, USS HOOD NCC-1703
Steve Apple
LT Stile H. Corbett
MED, USS HOOD NCC-1703
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Seeing Gold"==
===by [[Lusby_Scott|Lusby, Scott]]===
<PRE>
SD: 2260.175
MD: 1.1458 (About 6 hours after the mission briefing in "Saddle Up!")
Setting: Main Engineering, O-Deck, USS HOOD
Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth took a moment to glance at his situation
display, and, seeing as how nothing had changed since the LAST time he'd
looked 35 seconds ago, he sighed, and his antennae shuffled.
Gar wasn't sure why he was so anxious, and told himself that feeling so was
ridiculous at this point, as he had his department organized and ready: one
of his lieutenants was devoted solely to the health and happiness of the
warp core and engines, and was assisted by one of the new ensigns on board;
he had officers supervising the maintenance of ship's phasers and photon
torpedoes, another the maintenance of its shields and point-defense systems,
each assisted by a junior officer; he had still another officer supervising
the maintenance of the ship's electro-plasma systems, and another
supervising the smaller impulse engine room up on F-Deck.
On top of this, Gar had put another officer in charge of the life-support
systems, which not only included the air, food and water systems, but also
the artificial gravity systems and the inertial dampeners; he definitely
wanted someone with an eye on those at all times.
These divisions within Engineering accounted for roughly half of his
personnel.
The other half were assigned to the department's largest division: Damage
Control. This division was headed by his assistant Chief Engineer and
supported by the remaining officer allotted to him by Personnel. DC was
made up of over 100 ratings and crewmen, grouped into small 6-person teams,
each with a balance of specialties when practical.
Gar had been drilling his new divisions for the past few days as a
department, letting his engineers get a feel for doing their jobs under the
'controlled chaos' that so often accompanied combat situations. And they
were getting better, after a rough start: 5 days ago, it was taking way too
long to get the teams to their proper battle stations. But the last day and
a half had seen marked improvements; their responses weren't fluid-
yet...but they were working in that direction. He was proud of the progress
his department had made in such a short time.
He sighed again as he glanced at the time on his console- 1501 hours.
**I just hope that they do as well as they had been in a ship-wide drill,**
he thought just as the ship's comm whistled.
[[[This is the First Officer. This is an exercise. General Quarters!]]]
Gar glanced up at his assistant. "All right- let's go!" Gar shouted. "All
teams to battle stations!"
As officers, ratings and crewmen scurried around engineering like so many
ants, the ship shuddered. Instantly, Gar saw several icons on his master
status change from green to yellow, even to red in some cases.
"Shields are down- let's get DC-3 down there to help the Shield techs get
them back up," Gar said to his assistant next to him, trying to project a
calm demeanor amongst the escalating fury.
"Aye, Commander," the assistant shouted, and began routing the teams.
"We also need to get damage control teams to C, D, J and M-decks; send EPS
and Life-Support teams along with them," Gar added.
"Aye, Commander," his assistant repeated. "Damage control teams to C, D, J
and M-decks; EPS and Life Support teams to C, D, J and M-decks..."
*****
MD: 1.1508
Setting: J-Deck, near forward weapons control, USS HOOD
Electronics Technician 3rd Class Tam Sh'raavan peered into his tricorder.
"I have a simulated fire at Junction J-17," he said.
"What's causing it?" asked Chief Damage Controlman Antares Kowalczyk, DC-1's
team leader.
"Ruptured EPS junction," Sh'raavan said, his blue antennae wiggling.
"Probably took out the fire suppressions systems in this junction when it
blew."
Kowalczyk nodded. "Alright- seal 'em up, go personal, get out your fire
suppression gear."
Everyone on the team immediately unzipped the hood from the neck of their
suit and, having pulled it tight over their heads, pressed a button.
Suddenly, the hood grew a greenish-tinged mask, covering their entire face
and neck, sealing against the neck of the suit with an audible hiss.
"Personal environmentals operational," Sh'raavan said as he reached around
to his backpack and pulled out the small, red cylinder of fire suppressant.
Normally, the canisters carried a foam specially designed to suppress
electro-plasma fires quickly without damaging the ship's subsystems or pose
a biological threat to the crew. Today, however, since it was a drill, the
triggers had been fitted with a small computer chip, which allowed no fire
suppressant to be released, but gave any tricorder or ship monitoring system
the impression of putting out the fire.
[[[OK- let's move, people,]]] Kowalczyk said, his voice now having a
'canned' quality to it.
As they approached the junction, the ship's comm system whistled in
everyone's ears. [[[Security teams to forward weapons,]]]
Sh'raavan glanced at Kowalczyk. [[[Chief, isn't that where Junction J-17
--]]]
The Chief cut her off. [[[Yes, it is- now let's get that fire put out
before it spreads and does any more damage," he said.
As they approached the junction, they saw a bunch of shadows dancing on the
wall across from the 'fire.'
Chief Kowalczyk stopped Sh'raavan with an arm across her chest. [[[Wait,]]]
he said.
Glancing over his shoulder, he nodded at one of the newer members of the
engineering department, Crewman Thompson. [[[Go take a peek,]]] he said,
[[[and be CAREFUL.]]]
Thompson grinned beneath his mask. [[[Sure, Chief,]]] he said, and moved to
the corner.
When he got there, he slowly peered around the corner. Carefully, he turned
around and shuffled back to their location.
[[[It's Captain Steele,]]] he said. [[[He's got about a dozen men with him,
and they're all armed.]]]
[[[What are they doing?]]]
[[[It looks like they're trying to cut through the bulkhead to get into
Forward Weapons Control,]]] he said. [[[It's a little hard to tell; all
they're doing is pointing phasers at the bulkhead next to the door.]]]
He glanced at Sh'raavan. [[[The fire's right across from them; it's bound
to be giving them a hard time,]]] he thought.
Sh'raavan nodded. "EPS fires are nothing to play with, Chief,]]] he said.
[[[They'd need to get that fire out themselves if they were seeking to
maintain control of that room.]]]
Kowalczyk shook his head, pulling his phaser out. [[[We can't make that
assumption; they could just as easily be looking to take out our ability to
fight,]]] he said. [[[We can't wait for Security- we have to try to slow
them down and stop them now or we'll never get that fire out.]]]
They all nodded; everyone in the DC team knew that, though there were 13 men
trying to burn a way into Forward Weapons, the biggest threat to their
safety by far was the EPS fire. If they didn't contain it, and soon, they'd
loose the deck...and that would spell disaster- a simulated one, yes, but a
disaster nonetheless.
[[[OK- when we get to the intersection, take two others and run across to
the other side,]]] the Chief said to Sh'raavan. [[[The rest of you take
cover with me and help me lay down some covering fire. Then we take out as
many as we can.]]]
The approached the corner of the junction; Kowlaczyk kneeled down and,
peering around the corner, aimed his weapon and fired.
Of course, nothing happened; however, suddenly, one of the gold-shirted
invasion party's uniform began to chirp loudly, then another, and another.
<<NRPG>>
All- Just getting the war games started. I believe that's REDSHIRTS= 3,
GOLDSHIRTS= NIL. ;)
I'm assuming that Daniel will have a team down here in short order by now.
But who knows what else the Captain has up his sleeve.
And of course there's the small matter of the simulated EPS fire. ;)
I also took the liberty of setting the mission date, since this is the day
our mission really begins. I hope that's OK...I was starting to have some
trouble figuring out what was happening when.
Respectfully Submitted,
-- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth
Chief Engineering Officer
USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
And
CDM Antares Kowalczyk
ET3 Tam Sh'raavan
And the rest of Damage Control Team #1
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Scalpels are a Doctor's Best Friend==
===by [[Apple_Steve|Apple, Steve]]===
<PRE>
SD: 2260.175
MD: 1.1458
[Snip from Brian's Post Big Damn Drill - Red vs Gold]
Merrick smiled and waved him off. "Speaking of a mess." He hit the comm,
"ARr'Rhiana Hemux, cue your mass casualties." Then to Corbett he said,
"Go have fun doc."
[End Snip]
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
"I believe I shall sar," Corbett said leaving the XO at the Command Chair.
After a few steps he turned back to the man. "Oh, I almost forgot, please
have someone tell the Red Shirts that the gentleman with the cowboy hat is
on their side."
"I'll be sure to tell them, but you might want to take it off anyway. It
kind of makes you a conspicuous target for some Gold shirted Klingon."
Merrick said smiling.
"Remove my hat sar, in the thick of battle." Corbett responded a look of
mock horror on his face. "That would be sacrilegious sar. Like my ancestors
at the Alamo I shall die with my boots and hat in place."
Corbett turned and headed for the Turbo Lift not waiting for Merrick's
response.
"Corbett to Triage" He said into his communicator.
"Grey here Cowboy." The female voice said.
"Mother, you got wounded coming in from the Science dept. have Dr. Kavlin
prep the surgical and intensive care units down in Sickbay."
"We'll be ready when they get here." She said then added. "Are you heading
here to the cargo bay, or down to sickbay?"
"I'll be moving between both, as well as keeping track of the trauma teams."
He answered.
"Try not to get killed, or do anything stupid." She admonished.
"Yes Mother, Corbett out." He said as he closed the communicator, but as
an afterthought he flipped it back open. "Corbett to Orange Team."
"Orange Team, Pearson here."
"Pearson I want you and your team to stay low. You've got intruders on
J-deck with you and the last thing I need is the team that's supposed to be
rendering aid getting shot up."
"Yes sir, son of a …" Was all Corbett could make out as he heard a loud
chirping sound and the link went dead.
"Damn it Pearson." Corbett yelled as he flipped his communicator closed and
dashed into the Turbo lift. "J-deck." He said to the lift and wondered what
in the hell he was going to do when he got down there.
"Computer," Corbett said as the Turbo lift began its movement to J-deck.
"Working." The metallic voice answered.
"From this Turbo lift how do I get to Forward Weapons Control?"
"The most direct route is to take Turbo lift to J-deck." The computer
answered.
Corbett rolled his eyes and marveled at the literalness of the computer.
"Once the Turbo lift reaches J-deck how do I get to Forward Weapons
Control?"
"Proceed approximately 30 meters from the Turbo lift and at the second
intersection turn left. From there proceed another 25 meters and at the
first intersection turn right and proceed for 10 meters to destination."
The doors to the Turbo lift opened revealing the corridor, its emptiness
eerie. Corbett followed the computers directions, but ducked into the
corridor on the right at the first intersection when he saw a Gold Shirted
Ensign moving stealthily against the wall. After a moment he took a quick
glance around the corner, it was clear and he followed the Ensign at a
safe distance. He could hear the noise grow louder as he approached.
Taking a quick glance around the second corner he saw a group dressed in
red coveralls crouched low and firing phasers at the intersection ahead.
The Gold shirt was moving in behind them trying to pin them down.
Corbett reached for the phaser he had forgotten to bring along.
"Damn it." He cursed to himself.
Then out of instinct his hand went to his boot and the colt cobra pistol
he kept there. He thought about it for a moment, but decided against
shooting the sneaky little Ensign. Instead he reached into the Emergency
Trauma Kit he remembered to bring.
"Pst, hey kid," He whispered loud enough to cause the Ensign to turn
toward him.
The Ensigns eyes went wide as he turned and his personal sensor started
chirping.  Immediately three of the men in red coverall's turned and
fired toward the chirping causing Corbett to drop to the deck before his
own sensor triggered due to friendly fire.
"He's down already." Corbett said to the men then stood and clapping the
kid on the shoulder "It's over son, I'm sorry."
"But how, you didn't even have a phaser?" The Ensign asked.
"Never bring a knife to a gun fight unless you're a surgeon." Corbett
replied smiling as he held up his laser scalpel. "I just triggered your
sensor, they're the ones that actually phasered you."
"That's not fair." The Ensign complained.
"Sure kid and shooting an unarmed doctor would have been."
"I wouldn'…" The Ensign stopped himself and nodded at the doctor as he
headed toward the turbo lift.
"Wait a minute kid I'll take that." Corbett said grabbing the man's
phaser and then he turned and ran back down the hall to the men in red
coveralls.
"What the hell are you doing down here doc." One of the men asked as
Corbett slid down next to them.
"Doing something stupid to be sure," Corbett said then asked. "Who's in
charge here?"
"Me, Chief Kowlaczyk unless you want the job."
"Absolutely not sar, being a figure of authority goes against my ethics.
I'm now your new field medic."
"That's good cause your team got its ticket punched awhile ago by the
Captain."
"Well then I would say revenge is in order."
Respectfully Submitted,
Steve Apple
Dr. Stile Corbett
CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS]USS HOOD: Assignment Mayhem==
===by [[Catterick_Andy|Catterick, Andy]]===
<PRE>
SD 2260.178
            Steele watched as three of his team went down.  It was more
then he had hoped but less then he had feared.  Raising his communicator
he shouted “Now!”  He turned and looked to his team.  “Ready?”  They all
were.  He did a mental five count.  “Let’s Go!”  In unison they sprang
around the corridor to find the Red shirted attackers having spun around
to see the rest of Gold team closing in on them from behind.  Now they
had Steele and the rest boxing them in.  Gold team lost two more but they
made quick work of the defenders.  With a nod to the umpire who was
diligently letting everyone know who was dead and who was injured the
gold shirts headed down the corridor.  When they got to the main
intersection Steele turned to face them.  “Alright, you all know you’re
missions.  Do your best to take your objectives but I’ll be happy with as
much mayhem as you can muster along the way.”  With a lopsided grin
Steele, Ensign Campell and Crewman Saunders sprinted down the corridor
and then began to climb down one of the service ladders.
            Steele knew that his team would eventually lose.  It had too
for many reason not least of which being that it would be terrible for
morale if the ship was taken or even destroyed by the invading ‘Klingons’. 
Not that he and his team weren’t trying very hard to achieve either of
those goals.  But he was more interested in providing the rest of the crew
the opportunity to test their skills and their ingenuity as they worked as
a team to save the ship and each other.  And of course Murphy’s Law would
raise its ugly head and throw a few spanners into the works.  But that
would provide important lessons to be learned and that might be even more
valuable then winning the drill.  As he poked his head around the corner
as they arrived at their deck he wondered what it would do to morale when
the crew realized their captain had lost.  He probably should have led the
defenders.  But where was the fun in that?
            On the bridge Ensign Zhukov looked down at his board as the
sensor alarm flashed.  The young ensign was handling the nav station much
to his horror.  His first time at the bridge station and it was in the
middle of a drill.  Weren’t new officers supposed to get the graveyard
shift?  “Mr. Merrick they’re back and this time there are two of them. Both
D-7 class attack cruisers.”
            Part of the drill had been set to simulate space combat at the
same time as the crew were repelling boarders.  It wasn’t like the Klingons
would drop their troops and slink away. 
            Zhukov watched the view screen as the two cruisers closed in on
HOOD.  He could make out the battle damage that it had taken when it had
snuck up on HOOD and battered her shields down enough to get boarders
aboard.  “They’re firing!”
<<<NRPG>>>
Really enjoying the drill and looking forward to seeing who gets to kill
Steele.  Don’t tell anyone but he is heading for Aux Control…why else would
he bring Cory?
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "F.U.B.A.R."==
===by [[Lusby_Scott|Lusby, Scott]]===
<PRE>
SD: 2260.179
MD: 1.1627
Setting: Chief Engineer's Office, Deck O, USS HOOD
Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth shook his head as he read the report on
the tablet in his hand. "FOUR teams, Lieutenant?" he asked, his antennae
twitching as he spoke.
"Yes, Commander, four teams," said Gar's assistant, Lieutenant Bywater.
Gar tossed the tablet onto the desk in his small office, and folded his arms
across his body. "And they all were 'killed' because they decided to engage
our opponents BEFORE Security had arrived?"
The younger human shook his head. "Again, that is correct, Commander."
Gar spat an Andorian curse. "I need a drink," he muttered as he collapsed
into the chair behind the small desk in front of him.
Bywater looked at him, eyebrow raised. "Excuse me, Commander, but I thought
you'd be proud that they took the initiative...I mean, you being Andorian
and all..."
Gar raised his head, and met Bywater's gaze; immediately, the human shrunk
slightly.
However, Gar allowed the corners of his lips to curl slightly. "I admire
their tenacity, John," he said, sliding the room's other chair over to him
with his foot. "And I also admire their courage; they have shown themselves
to have the heart of a warrior today."
Bywater sat in the proffered chair. "Then what gives, Gar?"
Gar now leaned forward in his chair. "Because they didn't THINK first,
John." He paused, and picked up the tablet again from the desk. "None of
the four teams 'killed' were able to complete their repairs first; as such,
the 'plasma fire' on J-deck, the ruptured phaser leads on C-deck, the hull
ruptures were never addressed. And while those things in and of themselves
were not enough to destroy HOOD, they would have cut our combat efficiency
way down, which MAY have gotten us killed if it was the real thing."
Bywater leaned forward. "And the boarding teams?" he asked. "The Klingons
don't take prisoners, Gar."
Gar nodded. "Yes- the Klingons needed to be dealt with first; they would
have- and did, to make a point- prevented us from completing our repairs."
He paused before continuing. "But what they SHOULD have done was to either
call for help or wait for the Security teams to arrive."
The Andorian paused again. "Security teams are better prepared for that
kind of thing; in fact, it's what they train for. They have body armor,
heavy phasers, extra power packs...and a professional knowledge of
small-unit tactics. Engineers- unless they happen to be Andorian- seldom
have such equipment or expertise among them," he finished, winking as he
lifted himself out of his chair.
Th'elenth walked to the door of his office. "Had any and all of those teams
waited, their repairs might have been delayed ten-fifteen minutes...but they
would have gotten done once the areas were secure. 'Efficiency' does not
always mean jumping head-long into a situation.'"
"Where are you going?" Bywater asked.
Gar nodded through the doorways. "The Captain's day cabin; he wants to go
over the drill with us, see what our thoughts are."
"And what would yours be, Gar?"
Th'elenth grinned. "That we need to coordinate some more drills with
Lieutenant DeSimms," he replied. "Either we need to learn to fight better,
or we need to learn to let Security do their job so we can do ours."
With that, he passed through the doors of his office.
"See what you can arrange with Mr. DeSimms while I'm gone, please," he added
over his shoulder, just as the doors closed again and cut him off from his
assistant.
<<tag Andy/Brian>>
<<NRPG>>
All- OK, just a little private analysis from our friendly Andorian engineer.
Andy- I think this sets up your JP idea quite well. Tag! :)
Respectfully Submitted,
-- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'eleneth
Chief Engineer
USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
</PRE>
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Remember The Alamo==
===by [[Apple_Steve|Apple, Steve]]===
<PRE>
SD: 2260.179
MD: 1.1627
[Snip from Corbett's Post: Scalpels are a Doctors Best Friend]
"What the hell are you doing down here doc." One of the men asked as
Corbett slid down next to them.
"Doing something stupid to be sure," Corbett said then asked. "Who's
in charge here?"
"Me, Chief Kowlaczyk unless you want the job."
"Absolutely not sar, being a figure of authority goes against my
ethics. I'm now your new field medic."
"That's good cause your team got its ticket punched awhile ago by the
Captain."
"Well then I would say revenge is in order."
[End Snip]
Scene: J-Deck Corridor Intersection, USS HOOD
"I'm not sure about revenge doc I'd settle for not getting killed."
Kowlaczyk said frowning. "We got an EPS fire still burning out of
control and we're exchanging fire with Klingons who outnumber us
2 to 1.
"I take it you're a glass half empty type of fella, Chief." Corbett
said smiling. "However I am in agreement with the not getting killed
part."
"All we need to do is hold these guys for a few more minutes until
security arrives." Kowlaczyk said.
"Ah yes, Mr. DeSimms and the Calvary" Corbett said standing.
"Where are you going?" Kowlaczyk asked
"To check out the corridor behind us. Corbett answered. "If I hadn't
spotted our sneaky little Ensign earlier y'all would have been dead by
now."
"Fine, just make sure you don't get killed in the processes." Kowlaczyk
said.
"Don't worry sar I'm diametrically opposed to death, especially my own."
Corbett said hugging the wall as he moved down the corridor.
Corbett crouched at the first intersection directly behind them and took
a quick glance around the corner. There were at least four maybe five
Gold Shirts taking up positions and moving toward him.
He could shout out a warning to Kowlaczyk, but that might spring their
trap, he thought. Turing his head he saw that the Engineers were still
engaged in a forward shooting match with the Captain.
He knew he couldn't take them all out, but maybe he could slow them
down. Quickly he fished in his medkit for the hand scanner and tube
reader. It took him a minute to make the minor adjustments to the
equipment and a spray of sealant to glue them together.
Corbett heard the Captains voice shout the word "Now" through one of the
rear attacker's communicators. He knew it was time to act and threw the
makeshift device around the corner.
The whine of the scanner mimicked a sonic grenade and also served to
increase the intensity of the lights from the tube reader, which played
off the corridor walls.
"Remember the Alamo" Corbett screamed as he jumped around the corner and
into the attackers, holding a phaser in one hand and a hypospray in the
other. He immediately scored a phaser hit on one of the Gold shirts.
There was momentary confusion and he was able to reach out and snag
another with the hypospray before he saw four more Gold shirts take aim.
It was over for him as his sensor started chirping and the attackers blew
past him to make short work of the defending Engineers. With a sigh he
started walking back toward the turbo lift.
Respectfully Submitted,
Steve Apple
Dr. Stile Corbett
CMO
USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
</PRE>
</PRE>
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