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ORIGINS: USS Hood June 2010 (view source)

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FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
USS HOOD: hide and seek
SD2261.175
Scene: USS HOOD: BRIDGE
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Hide and Seek==
===by David Martens===
... "What you mean `it's gone'...?"
Arr'Rhiana sighed, feeling the urge to punch Merrick in the face "DON'T...
SHOUT..At...ME...!" she barked back. "I already told you a dozen time, the
RUTLEDGE is gone, disappeared, vanished, call it as you want."
Merrick rubbed his hand through his hair and looked with bewildered eyes to
Hemux "That's impossible, a Federation starship just doesn't disappears."
Hemux tapped some keys on her console and stared through her viewer scanning the
area and analysing data. Without lifting her head she repeated her report "As I
said: the RUTLEDGE was there, only a few klicks away, perfectly visible, we had
her on our scanners, the lifesingns matched with those from the crew; the
radiation levels where normal, no signs of an attack or damage. The only thing
missing was that she didn't communicated with us. No visual, no audio,
nothing."
The Bolian scientist turned back to Merrick "We where bale to lock in for
transport, the Captain and the others where beamed on board without problems and
exactly at the moment they materialized on the RUTLEDGE it vanished. One
moment there, the next nowhere to find. And we have no clue where she is.
There is no warp trail or nay other unusual energy signature. We have send in a
probe that passed by at the place where the RUTLEDGE should be, so there is no
sign of a cloaking field and we detect no radiation or anything else that gives
us the indication that there was a space or time distortion."
Hemux blinked her eyes and looked to Merrick "In other words: the RUTLEDGE
should be still there, but she isn't and I have no explanation for that, it is
totally illogical, but she is gone!"
Merrick nodded and turned to face the huge viewscreen, saying to no one in
particular "Suggestions, anyone?"
<<<NRPG>>>
ok, the RUTLEDGE is gone, science has no explanation, what's next?
Respectfully,
David Martens
Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux
CSciO ,
Sovereignty Fleet
USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Restraint==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2261.170
MD 2.1030
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
Sean Merrick fought the urge to hit Hemux in the face.  The RUTLEDGE had just vanished without warning, without trace, taking with it Sean's best friends and his date for Friday night.  And all the Denobulan with umpteen doctorates behind her name could say is "I have no explanation for that, it is totally illogical, but she is gone!"
Even as Sean threw up his mental hands and asked for suggestions, he realized that there were still a dozen scans that they could start running. 
"Get the main sensor array on where they just were and find me something strange," he ordered.  He plopped down in the Captain's chair.  "By heaven, we're staying here until we find something to clue us as to where our people went!"
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: We’re Not In Kansas Anymore==
===by Steve Apple===
SD:  2261.170
Scene: Transporter Room
The bright cascade of swirling lights started to clear and Corbett could make out the RUTLEDGE’s transporter room. Instead of solidifying on the pad a sick jolting vertigo grabbed him. When the wave of nausea and vertigo finally subsided he could feel he was lying on a damp floor.
Corbett took slow deep breaths and tried to stand, stopping only when the vertigo threatened to take hold again. After a minute he was able to stand and take a look around the small room. It looked like it was carved out of solid rock with a long slab of stone that served as a bed. The front of the room looked open.
Pushing his hat to the back of his head he took the ten steps to the opening. Extending his hand he tapped with his left index finger what he hoped would be air, instead he felt the cold surface of some kind of Plexiglas type surface. It was black and gave no sign that it was seamed into the rock. Placing his hand flat against the glass he stepped onto his toes trying to feel if it ended somewhere he could reach and possibly climb over; however luck wasn’t with him and the glass seemed to go all the way to the ceiling.
It didn’t take long for it to dawn on his foggy mind that he was in a prison cell, or cage. The light in his cell was bright, but the glass wall was black. Well not exactly black, more like it was clear and that the blackness was on the other side of it. Backing up a few steps he grabbed his right wrist with his left hand and tucking it into his chest extended his right shoulder. Hurling himself forward he hit the glass and felt it shift slightly with him, absorbing the blow, a second later it rebounded throwing him back onto the floor of the cell.
That was a smart move he thought as he rubbed his shoulder. Go ahead kick it and see if it’ll break your foot. Corbett paused for a moment at that thought. Maybe that wasn’t such a farfetched thought after all. Digging into his med kit he brought out his hand scanner and adjusted the frequency. It took a few minutes, but he found an anomaly in the glass. That might be the part he would need to concentrate on. Taking out his hypo he broke a vial of seraline blue over the anomaly so he would know exactly where it was later.
After several hours of trying his laser scalpel and several sound frequencies he had almost given up when the glass began to brighten. He could see a hallway in front of the glass and several identical cells that ran its length. “It’s a prison alright,” he said aloud when he saw the cells. “I’ve been in enough to know.”
“Stile is that you.”
Corbett heard the voice of his Captain and saw the man pressed up against the glass of the cell diagonally in front of him and to his right. “Nice to know I’m in good company sar.”
“I can see Cedria from here; she’s lying on the floor of the cell to my left.” Steele said.
“Now that must be a sight.” Corbett yelled back then added. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll trade you some smokes and my breakfast for a week if you change cells with me Jack as I’ve always had a women’s prison fantasy involving Zade.”
“Stow it doctor. We need to figure out how we got here.”
“Captain where are we?” Someone yelled from another cell.
Corbett knew that voice, it belonged to Gene Lowl. “We are not in Kansas anymore sar, so I think the better question is why are we here and how do we get out.”
<<NRPG>> Kind of reminded me of “The Menagerie” or if you prefer “The Cage” episode
Respectfully Submitted
Steve Apple
Stile Corbett, MD
CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Pulling it Together==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.171
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
Acting Helmsman Hal Baker looked from the first officer to the science officer and then back to Commander Merrick.  The shock that had made its way around the bridge with the force of a Tsunami still reverberated.  USS RUTLEDGE had just vanished from space without leaving a trace of ever having been there.  Nor was there any sort of clue as to what unseen force had managed to pull a Starfleet destroyer out of space in the blink of an eye.  But that all paled in comparison, as far as the young ensign  was concerned, to the fact that the captain and most of the senior officers had transported over to RUTLEDGE scant seconds *before* it disappeared.  And if HOOD couldn’t find RUTLEDGE how would they ever find HOOD’s officers. 
Baker looked back down at his panel not knowing what to do and praying that Lieutenant Hemux and Commander Merrick did.  As much as he wanted to find the missing vessel he didn’t want to be hanging around in the same vicinity presenting HOOD as the next target for transport to oblivion.  Because it seemed the day where every few seconds things did seem to get worse it was clear that from the recent ‘discussion’ between the two remaining senior officer who obviously wanted to kill each other that it had just notched up another disaster level.  If the science officer and exec were not able to cope with the stress of instant disaster how was he a lowly, albeit brilliant, ensign going to cope and get the ship out harm’s way?
They were all going to die.
“Lieutenant is the ship in any immediate danger?”  Merrick asked in the calm and controlled voice of command.
Hemux reconsulted her scanner briefly.  “Impossible to say commander.  There is no indication of any danger, no indication of anything out of the ordinary.  But then there was neither before, during or after RUTLEDGE’s disappearance.”  She replied just as calmly.
Sean nodded.  “If there is a danger to HOOD I don’t want to be caught lingering but I also don’t want to cause any disruption to local space that may negate any chances of finding some answers by moving the ship.”
“More indepth scans will take approximately twelve minutes.”  Hemux advised.
Sean stepped over to the command chair and sat down.  “Very well lieutenant take your scans.  Helm I want you to be ready to jump out of here the second I tell you.”
“Understood sir.”  Baker replied feeling much better then he had a few minutes ago.
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Now What?==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.171
Scene: Unknown
<from Steve’s last post>
“Stile is that you.”
Corbett heard the voice of his Captain and saw the man pressed up against the glass of the cell diagonally in front of him and to his right. “Nice to know I’m in good company sar.”
“I can see Cedria from here; she’s lying on the floor of the cell to my left.” Steele said.
“Now that must be a sight.” Corbett yelled back then added. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll trade you some smokes and my breakfast for a week if you change cells with me Jack as I’ve always had a women’s prison fantasy involving Zade.”
“Stow it doctor. We need to figure out how we got here.”
“Captain where are we?” Someone yelled from another cell.
Corbett knew that voice, it belonged to Gene Lowl. “We are not in Kansas anymore sar, so I think the better question is why are we here and how do we get out.”
<new>
“Gene, did you try your phaser?”  Jack called out.
“I did captain.”  Gene answered immediately.  “I can’t explain it captain but its completely dead.  I checked to make sure it was fully charged right before we left the ship.”
Gar and Payne chimed in with a ‘Same here.”   
“That makes all of us.”  Jack crossed his arms and considered the situation.  For the last few hours he had spent the time trying  to find a way out of his cell while he hoped that the rest of the officers were safe aboard the RUTLEDGE.  While he was bitterly disappointed they had not escaped his fate he did admit to himself that he was relieved they were here with him.  With this many of them together that chances they would escape seemed much more likely.
He turned his attention back to Zade’s cell where she still lay motionless.  “Doctor can you get any sort of reading on Cedria with your tricorder?”
“Already tried and failed sar.  Whatever these walls are made of its doing a good job of reflecting my scans.  I can barely get a stable reading on myself.”
“Cedria!  Lieutenant Zade!”  Jack shouted out in the hopes of getting some response from her.  But she remained motionless.  “Frak!”  He cursed before a loud pitched whine suddenly filled his chamber.
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Phantasma==
===by David Kiel===
SD 2261.171
Scene: A Corridor
Cedria looked at her hands, and through them at the floor of the corridor. It was a smooth worked stone, much like marble but something more. It had no wear, no marks or signs of use. It looked brand new. But people did not generally build corridors to not be used. Oddly enough perhaps these were the exception.
When she had arrived she was shocked at the sight of the place. Smooth stone floors, cool gray walls broken by the occasional archway or intersection marked with varied colors; maroon, goldenrod, burnt orange, aqua. She had only seen a few colors repeat and couldn't be certain she wasn't passing a juncture for a second time. No placards, no maps and no controls, com panels or displays, just corridors, intersecting with corridors continuing on in a myriad of twisting and turning passageways. There were no rooms. At least none she had come to, and it had been hours.
Of course it wasn't just the sight of the place that had shocked her. She was alone, the Captain, Gar, the crazy alcoholic Doctor who liked to glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She seemed to remember he had been killed by a poisonous rabbit. When she had materialized they were gone, and she was alone in this endless maze.
And it wasn't just the missing Captain and crew. It was herself. She looked at her hands again. They were translucent, she could see the floor of the corridor through them. Her sleeve was a golden prism through which the bluish wall of the intersection she stood in looked slightly greenish. She was a shade, a ghost, she couldn't pass through walls but she also couldn't quite feel them either. It was just a place where her hand stopped if she tried to press through it, she couldn't sense its texture and there wasn't the slightest give.
She wasn't breathing. It wasn't as alarming as it would normally be, she just simply didn't have the need. She could speak, but her voice was weak, and she sounded far away, even to herself.
She turned left and walked down the next corridor. She had selected a direction at random and as the passages turned she would pick the left or right that would lead her in her chosen direction. She was halfway down the corridor when a portion of it to her immediate right pivoted and slid back. Seams opened where there had been none and the `door' slid back into a room. The first she had seen.
She was shocked again at the appearance of the alien. Tall, eight feet at least, with a thin face widening into a dome cranium. Sharp angled eyes that turned side to side, a mouth twisted in a natural frown, almost a sneer. She pressed herself back against the wall of the corridor. The first of them turned to its left and slid in the direction she had come. A second followed the first. The final alien paused and looked straight at her, she gasped, an echoing whispery gasp. It looked straight through her and paused, eyes turning to the right and left as if searching.
For a moment it stared straight through her, and then it turned and slid after the others. She looked wide eyed after them for a few moments and then followed. They wore long gray robes that just brushed the floor as the moved. They seemed to hover, sliding across the floor with no gait, no change in attitude just a smooth gliding motion. She had to hurry just slightly to keep up with them. They moved with purpose, turning left, right, straight left straight and straight, before stopping in front of a plain and bare gray wall.
She stood a few meters back, sure they would turn and obliterate her at any moment. The wall opened and pivoted back and they moved through. She moved to follow but the door was smooth and quick and before she closed the distance it was closing. The seams vanishing to nothing as it did. She made a fist and slammed it sharply against the wall in frustration. There was no noise when it struck, no pain in her hand from the blow. It just bounced soundlessly and harmlessly off where the door had been.
Cedria screamed in frustration, and the sound echoed back to her, the louder the noise she made the father away it seemed. She caught movement from the corner of her eye. A single figure glided past the intersection to her right, the same as the others. She ran to follow it.
NRPG: I was a bit lost with this mission. It's been two decades since I've seen the original series and I had to find this episode on the web to get started. I've taken the puppet alien of the original and given it a hovering motive form reminiscent of the Gentlemen from the Hush episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Cedria's body in its cage is breathing and functioning normally, but for some strange reason her consciousness is off wandering about.
Respectfully submitted;
David Kiel
Lt Cedria Zade,
NAV, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Break Out the Ouiji Board==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2261.172
MD 2.1040
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
Sean Merrick tried not to look at the Captain's empty coffee mug holder.  More than anything, that hole in the chair symbolized the fact that Sean was on his own.  And after ten seconds as acting Captain he already felt like he was fraking things up.  He'd let his reaction at losing his people unnerve half the bridge crew and worst still he had badgered Hemux: the one person who was their best bet at figuring out what had happened. 
Well dammit, he'd just have to do better from here on out.  He'd start by not bothering Hemux again. 
He regarded the helmsman.  What was his name?  Wheelie?  Wheeler?  Why the hell didn't Starfleet put name tags on their uniforms anyway? 
"Helm."
Baker replied instantly, "Yes sir." 
"Review our logs please.  Did the ship move any when the Rutledge vanished?  Perhaps there was a gravitational wave.  Something to indicate a spacial disturbance." 
"I checked that," Hemux pipped up, obviously annoyed. 
"Right," Sean said, chagrined at failing to not piss off the Science Officer.  "Nothing then?"
"Nothing sir." 
Well at least Hemux was being formal and not borderline insubordinate, Sean thought.  Still, he had to do something.  "What have we eliminated then Hemux?  Let's at least lay out what we know didn't happen."
Hemux sighed and Sean could almost hear her counting to ten.  "It wasn't a subspace phenomenon like a dimensional rift or wormhole.  The ship wasn't transported out: no quantum fluctuations to indicate that.  Like I said, the probe I sent confirmed it isn't cloaked.  One moment the ship was there, the next, poof!" 
Sean resisted the temptation to ask anything more.  Instead, he punched up the readouts of the probe Hemux had already sent out on his console.  It told him what he needed to know.  It was as if nothing special had ever been there.  Certain, it didn't seem that the RUTLEDGE had ever been there. 
"Hemux, do you see anything we might gain by staying in this spot?  I'd like to start a spherical search pattern here.  We may as well start investigating whatever else may be in the neighborhood."
Hemux merely shook her head.  She was clearly as upset and dismayed as he was.  This situation was miles beyond strange. 
An hour later and still nothing had turned up.  Their section of space had nothing of note, value or significance.  Sean was certain they were missing something, but was at complete loss as to what. 
The shift change came and he went back to his quarters.  What else could he do?  He needed to pray and recenter himself.  Then he'd send another update to Starfleet requesting that they be allowed to stick around for a while and see what turned up.  He'd ask for a week on site.  After that, well, if nothing turned up by then he figured it wouldn't make much difference what they did.  The drones might as well do the watching for them by that point. 
On stepping into his quarters, Sean took in a deep breath and stretched.  He wanted a drink but knew he shouldn't: if not for his need to maintain sobriety, then at least out of respect for Corbett.  He thought about a chocholate and immediately wanted to bang his head into a wall for the feelings *that* stray idea engendered.  Why the hell did the mind have to go down those roads anyway?
It was then he realized he smelled something odd.  It was ... sweet.  And familiar.  "What the HELL?" 
"Something wrong honey?" Jeri's voice came from the bedroom.
NPRG: Why do I get the feeling that smoking some mushrooms would actually give us more clarity as to what is going on here?
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Punch Clock Villans==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2261.175
MD 2.1500
Still reeling from the night's festivities, the alien Sarloff walked into the meditation chamber.  The ancient and dignified Talosians did not often celebrate in any manner, much less with inebriating beverages.  So when they did, Sarloff tended to make the most of it.  And there had been much to rejoice about.
In less than a week, they had captured two invaluable starships and were well on their way towards securing a third.  That had been cause for a "real" celebration: not one of the mere illusions to which the race as a whole had become so addicted.  The project which had begun decades before with one wreck of a craft now it encompassed dozens of ships from as many races.  Soon, the Talosians would have what they needed to resurrect their dying civilization.
Sarloff nodded to Golack as the latter left the room.  In their brief mental exchange, Golack offered greetings and asked if Sarloff had forgotten his morning stimulant on his way to work.  In response, the veins on Sarloff's head pulsated an irritated hue of purple.
"Don't ask," Sarloff said, his ginormous skull pounding.  "Who is my subject?"
Golack flooded Sarloff's cerebrum with images and sensations.  For the leader, Sean Merrick struck Sarloff as a simple enough being, obsessed with thoughts of his insecurities, duties, and several females.  One in particular held him in a strong and tumultuous emotional bond: his mate. 
"Fine fine," Sarloff said impatiently, I'll use that to build his mental cage. 
Golak made an indifferent gesture, wished him luck, and left.
///
In his quarters, Sean caught his breath as recognized a sweet and familiar perfume.  Memories and feeling flooded his brain.  "What the HELL?" 
"Something wrong honey?" Jeri's bright voice came from the bedroom.
Shocked to his bones and hair on end, Sean didn't even bother to answer.  Instead, he turned right around and ran out the door.  He stopped at the first intercom switch, hit the call button and shouted, "Intruder alert, First Officer's Quarters."  Then he pulled out a phaser and aimed it at his room's door. 
"Come on out whatever the frak you are."
NRPG: In this timeline, Pike and the ENTERPRISE never visited Talos in 2254 (see Memory Alpha wiki).
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: You Should Have Remembered Your Coffee==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2261.175
MD 2.1505
Scene: Vicinity of USS HOOD
Sarloff knew he had made a terrible mistake.  She was dead!  The sodded being's mate was DEAD!  And if the human managed to wake, what then?  Sarloff got his answer almost immediately as the anger-filled mind of Sean Merrick broke completely from his grasp.
/// 
The ship shimmered around Sean.  One moment he had been in the cooridor outside his quaters, the next ....
"What the frak is going on here?!" he said with burning rage.
He was back on the bridge and all around him the crew were slumped at their stations.  He spotted Hemux at her science panel and immediately tried to wake her. 
"I luv the way you do that siiir," she slurred in her slumber.
In no mood for waiting, Sean first tried talking to the Denobulan, then shaking her, and finally resorted to slapping the snot out of the sleeping science officer.  It took three hits before Hemux's eyes popped open with an angry "Oww!  Stop that!"
"Hemux!" Sean headed off. "We're in deep here.  It seems everyone is dreaming and no, it isn't your mushrooms fault today."
NRPG: Looks like Sean got to hit Hemux in the face after all.  I'm sure she'll get Sean back.  Also, what the heck was she dreaming about?  Hmm.  Anyway, I wonder how much coffee a Talosian needs to drink to take the edge off a basketball sized hangover?  Steve?
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Dreams Can Hurt==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2261.176
MD 2.1510
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
As soon as Sean had hauled a rather pissed Hemux out of her seat to help him rouse the others, he remembered to check the NAV console.  He unceremoniously pushed Wheelie out of his seat, hoping it might jolt the man awake.  No such luck. 
Sean seethed with a curious mixture of bitter anger and mortal dread.  His instruments said that they had not moved a single micrometer from their original station keeping position off the RUTLEDGE.  Moreover, the viewscreen controls had been switched to the aft quarter of the ship.  Sean flipped them back to straight ahead. 
Although he'd half expected this, he nevertheless gasped.  Dead in front of them hung the RUTLEDGE. 
////
On a secluded vessel several astronomical units away, Sarloff fought with all his mind's strength to bridge the ethereal distance between himself and his subject.  The situation was rapidly spiraling out of control and his Overseers were starting to demand a report.  If he had only been alert, he might have warded this off.  Their task had been to lull the Neo Federation crew into quiescence and then quietly remove them from their ship into holding cells aboard the Talosian marauder for transport back to Talos. 
So long as the human Merrick remained enraged at his predicament, then he was free of Sarloff's control.  It was time to switch tactics.  He waited for the right moment. 
////
"They might still be aboard!" Merrick shouted excitedly.  Hemux abandoned her attempts to wake the others and resumed her station to run a scan.  The absence of any abnormal reading onboard left her with one conclusion
"Whatever it is must be a form of psychic manipulation," she said.
"What can we do to protect ourselves besides turn and run?" Sean asked. 
Hemux searched her encyclopedic memory. The field of telepathic science bordered on the spiritual, although it did contain a scientific unpinning.  What they needed was a shield.  Some way to disrupt the psychic attack against the ship.  A few of the half ridiculous notions out there might just work, she thought, but only if they had time to prepare.  That, in turn, left them with one possible course of action. 
"I recommend we retreat from this influence," Hemux said.  "We need a defense before we can do any good here." 
Sean felt a well of despair fill within his heart.  How could he leave his people behind?  But if the HOOD couldn't fight, then neither could it rescue anyone.  Rapidly he set the controls to warp them out at factor 5.  The engine hum built and Sean pushed the silvery throttle forward.  As the stars streaked into fishbowl distortion, the last of his bitter resolve drained from him. 
////
Elsewhere, Sarloff smiled wickedly.  "Got you."
////
The world shifted around Sean and he gripped the corners of his console for support.  "What the ... aaaAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!" 
Pain.  It was a world of unimaginable pain.  Sean Merrick fell from his chair and screaming as only a being cast into hell could scream.  And that was where he was: a real, unfathomably horrific, unendurable hell. 
Shaking as though shocked by lightening, he convulsed on the deck.  He had no room in his senses for anything but fear and pain.  Then a deep, satanic voice pulsed through his mind. 
"Stop the ship.  Stop the ship and the pain will end."  The pain lessened a touch.  It was still like being in a lake of liquid agony, but suddenly he could think enough to understand what the voice was telling him. 
"Stop the ship and the punishment will end."
At that Sean knew somewhere on an instinctually level what it would mean if he obeyed and what exactly he should say to the demon in his mind. 
"Frak YOU, you MOTHER FRAKING FRAKER!!!" 
////
Far away and falling further behind still, Sarloff wrestled and grasped at the slippery handles of Seans psyche, only realize that he had already lost.  The resurgent anger that flowed through the Commander washed Sarloff away like a Niagra torrent.  In an instant, it became utterly impossible for Sarloff to impose anything but the mere hint of a suggestion upon Sean. 
A mental alarm sounded.  The Overseers now stepped in to take over from Sarloff.  But they found the situation all but hopeless.  Frantically they sent commands for all controllers to make their wards wake and halt the Neo Federation ship's escape.  But Sarloff knew it was too late.  Even as the Talosians scrambled, he felt their tenuous link to the HOOD snap. 
A burning fear rose inside his chest.  It quickly turned into a fury of panic as he realized just what his colossal failure meant for him.  It took naught but ten seconds before he found himself in the very same hell he had just created for Sean.  But unlike Sean, Sarloff would not escape it until days later when his body, exhausted and withered from dehydration, finally quit functioning. 
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Failure to Look before Leaping==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.175
Scene: Unknown
Rick Payne was the type of person who acted on impulse.  Most of the time his impulse was rewarded with success but not always.  The fact that his impulse was often an unconscious urge that had him acting before thinking was something that worried him to no end.  Because, while usually successful, there were the times that his impulses, his quick non-thinking action were wrong.  This discrepancy was something that, as a security officer, he wrestled with constantly.  He had no doubt that he had moved up the ranks quickly due to the actions his impulses had helped inspire.  But as his responsibilities increased he became more and more leery of counting on unconscious success.  Inevitably his hunch would prove incorrect and with so much more riding on his decisions, his actions, the consequences were beginning to outweigh the rewards.  So, he was trying now to make an effort to make sure he thought before he leaped.  Considering the situation at hand it probably didn't matter either way but he was determined to consider all possibilities before he did something rash.  Other then trying his phaser on the cell walls and forcefield he had simply opted to sit quietly and scrutinize the cell in the hopes of divining a way out.  So far he had little success.
With the clock ticking he was beginning to get more apprehensive about their chances of escape.  Rick was also concerned about what had happened to their navigator who, according to reports from Captain Steele still lay motionless.  It was his job to see to the safety of the crew and he was doing his job if he couldn't spring him self from this cell.  Suddenly he grabbed for his phaser and pointed it towards the wall.  He held his finger on the trigger for several seconds more out of a need to channel his growing frustration then out of any real hope that this time it work.  But this time it did work.  With a roar of triumph he leaped from the floor and charged through the door, to find himself in a frozen wasteland.
<<<NRPG>>>
I may get out another post or two over the next few days but probably not.  I'll be out of town formSat am to Friday am.  I'll have internet contact but likely won't be posting.
Respectfully,
Andy
LCDR Rick Payne
SEC, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Talosians are Just Yankees in Disguise ==
===by Steve Apple===
SD 2261.179
MD 2.2100
Scene: Prison Cell
Corbett paced the floor of his cell for the thousandth time. Each time he looked up there was the face of Jack Steele still locked in position facing Zade. “Any change Jack, has she at least moved any at all.”
“Nothing Stile, she hasn’t moved an inch in hours; however I think I see her breathing. I don’t know maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”
“The Trill’s a tough…” Corbett’s words were cut off as the Plexiglas force field front of the cell went black. “I was in the middle of a sentence you rude bastards.” He shouted to the ceiling. “Jails probably run by a bunch of Yankees with no manners.” He mumbled to himself as he paced the cell for the thousandth and one time.
He knew it was pointless the black would turn clear only when his jailors wanted it to, for whatever reason they wanted everyone to be aware that they were together in this prison. He wasn’t sure if it was to keep them docile or to show that the jailers had ultimate control. He couldn’t stomach fiddling with the cell front again at least not for a few hours. It had been a hopeless endeavor; each time was a failure and sapped a bit more of his resolve.
Sitting back on the bench he closed his eyes and began a rhythmic cycle of breathing as he started to meditate. As he concentrated on his breathing he let his mind clear of all thoughts. He concentrated on relaxing every muscle in his body starting at his toes and working his way up. His body reaching total relaxation he let his mind drift.
“This specimen is quite interesting. He shows great moral ambivalence, especially with his species females.” An androgynous voice said.
Corbett could hear them quite clearly; he was startled at first, but immediately relaxed to see if he could hear more.
“Yes, he is different from the others. Even now he is listening in on our conversation.” A second indifferent voice said.
“Since you know I’m listening then I have to say I take great offense to your moral ambivalence comment.” Corbett said out loud.
“He seemed to have promise, I thought he would have had more intelligence, but his lack of understanding that we are communicating telepathically shows a shockingly primitive mind.”
“You’re definitely Yankees, I can tell since you lack the proper manners of a truly evolved being.” He thought back.
“He is adaptable; however what is a Yankee.”
“Why don’t you come into my cell and I’ll tell you all about the horrid creatures.”
“This one doesn’t use violence as his primary tool.” A new female sounding voice offered. “He uses guile instead, quite interesting this species.”
“You don’t know the half of it darlin. However, since you seem to be an evolved race I would suspect you have ascertained I am a healer.”
“The specimen will now boast about his abilities.” The first androgynous voice intoned.
“A Texan does not boast sar we merely state the obvious facts. I am gifted that’s true, but I hardly need to tell a mind reader that.”
“The specimen is quite adept at deflection I see.” A new male voice projected. “He let us know he was a healer in hopes we would let him look at his female companion.”
“Did you come up with that one on your own Zippy.” Corbett shot back. “Of course I’d like to make sure she’s not hurt.”
“So be it.” The androgynous voice echoed loudly in his head.
Corbett immediately felt like he was falling and landed with a start. He jumped up from the bench he was sitting on and immediately saw he was not in his cell, but in Zade’s.
She was face down on the floor. His scanner was out and running over her in less than a second. He saw that her vitals were stable, but that her brain patterns were in a deep theta wave frequency. He thought about checking on the symbiont and immediately Cedria rolled onto her back, still unconscious. The symbiont seemed stable; Corbett wasn’t a hundred percent sure. The only thing his scanner could assure him of was that the biochemical connections between them seemed intact.
“Well at least when the black front turns clear I can assure Jack that you’re physically stable.” He said to her unconscious form and instinctively patted her shoulder.
The bright flash of light was blinding and forced Corbett to cover his eyes for a moment.
“I never thought I’d say I’m happy to see you.” A familiar voice said.
Corbett turned toward the voice with a start and saw Zade standing in front of him taking handfuls of water out of a pail and splashing her face. “Any idea where we’re at?” She asked.
Corbett scanned the area and immediately saw the columns and triangular pitched roof all carved in stone. It was a sight he had seen almost every day of his youth. The rough stone walls were farther out and the height of the walls was at least three feet higher than he remembered.
“Yeah we’re at the Alamo.” He said when he heard the trumpets and Spanish battle cries. “And I’d say Santa Anna is about ready to attack.”
Respectfully Submitted
Steve Apple
Stile Corbett, MD
CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==USS HOOD: waking up can hurt also==
===by David Martins===
SD 2961.0100
MD 2.1530
Scene: USS HOOD: BRIDGE
Arr'Rhiana slapped Merrick on his cheek, maybe a bit harder then really
necessary, but since she was no doctor, she didn't take a change... "Get awake,
commander! I think we are safe now."
"What happened ... Where are we?" Merrick asked, rubbing his cheek and
temples.
"You gave the order to leave the system and go to warp, as soon as we started to
move you felt down screaming in agony. You tried to break of the warp jump but
I was able to stop you, then you lost consciousness and when we dropped out of
warp I was able to get you back awake."
Sean grabbed Hemux' hand and stood up. He got back into the captains chairs and
nodded to her "Thanks, ...I guess..." He blinked his eyes as he noticed the crew
was slowly getting awayke and back to their normal behaviour again. "So what's
our status ?"
Hemux got back to her science station and did some scans and readings "We are
2.6 lightyears from our last position, all systems are back to normal." She
lifted her head with a very big grin "and guess what? We have the RUTLEDGE back
on our scanners."
Merrick nodded once "Status of the RUTLEDGE?"
No changes since we arrived, Sir. Lifesigns show the normal number of
crewmembers on board, all systems are operational, but she is not responding t
any of our hails or attempts to communicate."
With a rather desperate look on her face she sighed "And before you ask: no,
there is no sign of the captain or the rest of our away team."
<<<NRPG>>>
Well, you asked for the slapping. So don't complain to me now...
Respectfully,
David Martens
Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux
CSciO, Sovereignty Fleet
USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: No Answers==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.179
Scene: Frozen Wasteland
Lieutenant Commander Rick Payne gasped in shock and involuntary response to the bitter cold that swirled around him.  His mind fought to keep up with this new reality and he realized he had been transported away from the cell he had been placed in.  He did a quick three hundred and sixty degree spin to see if any of his crewmates had been transported with him.  It didn’t appear so but the swirling snow severely hampered his view.
His body began to shiver from the extreme temperature and he realized that even with the thermal properties of his uniform he would not survive long without shelter.  He flipped open his communicator and shouted in to it.  “Payne to Captain Steele.  Payne to any landing party member.  Payne to HOOD.  Is there anyone on this channel?”  He was not surprised at the lack of response and he swore as he enabled the communicator’s auto-emergency beacon before placing it back on his belt.  Drawing his phaser he began to move forward hoping that he would find shelter.
As he trudged through the knee deep snow he considered his situation.  He and the rest of the Landing Party had been kidnapped for purposes unknown.  It had been deliberate given they had been lured to the RUTLEDGE and he wondered if it was just the Landing Party that had been abducted or more of the HOOD crew.  The question was why.  They had been placed in cells and received no sort of communication from their captors but been allowed to communicate with each other to some degree.  The fact that they had been ignored for so long had ominous repercussions.  On the other hand just because they hadn’t communicated doesn’t mean they hadn’t been monitoring the HOOD officers.  But if that was the case what was the purpose?  As an initial method of examining them?  Wouldn’t it have been easier to just make direct contact?  With what he had read of the ENTERPRISE’s first contact with the FESAURIUS there was evidence of initial subterfuge but that quickly turned to an open dialogue.  Could they be trying at subterfuge again?  Testing Starfleet’s response to different stimuli?  Was that why he has been brought here, to see his reaction to such dire circumstances?  And what type of reaction, psychological or physical ones?  Did they want to see how much he could endure before he died?
He wasn’t sure if he sensed the animal or heard its growl first but suddenly a large dark shape came thundering towards him through the blizzard.
He raised his phaser and fired.
Respectfully,
Andy
LCDR Rick Payne
SEC, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Big Brothers Are Everything==
===by Harry Iha===
SD: 2261.180
SCENE: Talosian Stronghold
"We have failed. The alien ship has moved out of range of our
control."
"There will be others. And we have several of their specimens."
"Perhaps we still have an opportunity. Behold." The Overseer
shared the image of HOOD dropping out of warp. "It is quite
distant, but perhaps within reach. All, concentrate and find the
meekest spirit. It will also be the weakest mind, the easiest for
us to control."
SCENE: Tamura's Quarters
Tamura shook his head. He had just had the most vivid dream. Back
in San Francisco with his family, the sights, the sounds, the
smells, all seemed real. But of course, it was a dream--he was in
deep space, finally getting some rest after a 12 hour shift on the
bridge which had followed four hours in his office trying to keep
the sea of paperwork from drowning him.
The comm officer felt drained, and he was covered in perspiration.
He pulled himself out of his bunk and stumbled over to the head to
wash his face. Through cloudy eyes, he snapped on the light,
turned on the faucet, and splashed. Better.
Until a wave of light-headedness hit him. Yoshi closed his eyes
for a few seconds to allow the dizziness to pass. When he opened
his eyes, they were suddenly clear, and for the first time he
realized he was not in his cabin aboard HOOD. He was at the water
fountain in Golden Gate Park.
A hard slap on the shoulder almost knocked him down. "Come on,
Yosh," yelled his brother Thomas. "Get your game on. The pride of
Lowell rests on your shoulders." Yoshi automatically followed his
brother onto the playing field. His brother's comments became
somewhat clearer as Yoshi saw 13 other familiar faces all dressed
in his high school's colors of cardinal red and white. Across the
pitch were another 15 dressed in the orange and blue of rival
Balboa High.
But this was a dream! Yoshi could not be here. He grabbed Thomas
and spun him around. "How did I get here? What am I doing here?"
Thomas, as he had throughout both their lifetimes, slapped Yoshi's
forehead with the palm of his hand. "Man, Yosh, Star Fleet gave
you leave just in time if you can't remember. The grudge match?
Against Balboa?" Thomas suddenly frowned. "You're not trying to
back out on us, are you? You slimy shit...."
Yoshi threw up his hands. "Whoa. I'm not backing out." He was
still unclear when his leave had started or when he had arrived
back on Earth, but one thing was clear--he never crossed Thomas.
"It's just...."
"Just what?" Thomas asked suspiciously.
Yoshi looked at the unfamiliar uniforms and the strange looking
balls the players were tossing back and forth. "I don't know how
to play...."
Thomas gave his brother another pop in the forehead. "Rugby, dolt.
Look, I've explained it a hundred times already. Just run ahead
and knock down as many of them as you can. If he's got the ball,
tackle him. We'll do the rest."
The younger brother looked skeptical. He looked at the big, burly
men from Balboa. Yoshi was not exactly skin and bones, but the
smallest had to have at least 50 pounds on him. "Come on,"
prompted Thomas, and pulled his little brother into the Lowell
huddle.
"Let's kick some Balboa ass, gentlemen," instructed the team
captain. "On three. One... two... three... LOWELL!"
The two teams spread out for the opening kick. Thomas grinned at
Yoshi. "Just follow my lead and knock them down."
Yoshi nodded. [I can do that,] he decided. The bigger they are,
the harder they fall, after all.
The Balboa kicker booted a high, short opener, and immediately 220
pounds of high school rival charged Yoshi, knocking him to the
turf. "Get up!" yelled Thomas. "Knock 'em down!"
Still dazed from being tackled, Yoshi automatically followed his
brother's instructions, jumped to his feet, and rushed towards the
nearest orange and blue target. He was determined not to
disappoint Thomas.
SCENE: Bridge
The hatch to the bridge flew open and a blur dashed in. Tamura
made a beeline for Wheeler and body slammed the helmsman to the
ground. Before anyone could react, IT1 "Sunshine" Backner found
himself flying out of his seat at the comm console. Two other
crewmen likewise met the same fate as they were on the receiving
end of the basic physics equations Force = 1/2 mv squared--and
Tamura's velocity was unexpectedly bullet-quick.
SCENE: Golden Gate Park
"One more, Yosh!"
Yoshi dialed in on the nearest Balboa player. He was getting
tired, as the other team was starting to catch up with him and try
to knock him down. They had almost succeeded, had it not been for
a little burst of reserve energy he had found deep within. That
just gave him a little more determination when he launched himself
at the last back.
SCENE: Bridge
First Officer Sean Merrick could not believe his eyes. Mild-
mannered ENS Tamura had charged onto the bridge, tackling everyone
in sight. He thought he and Hemux had finally subdued the wayward
comm officer, when, with a sudden burst of energy, the ensign had
slipped free and body-slammed the CSciO. That left the two of
them. Normally, Merrick would have been confident that his self-
defense training and 50 pound advantage over his berserk opponent
would have been more than sufficient, but watching Tamura lay out
five other crew members made the upcoming showdown an even bet.
Like a bull spotting the cape of the bullfighter, Tamura charged.
Merrick prepared to sidestep and use Tamura's momentum to throw him
aside. But at the last second, Tamura changed course, heading
straight for Merrick's weak side. The movement had been lightning
fast, and Merrick was unable to shift his weight fast enough to
counter the incoming projectile. Instead of the carefully planned
side-step and throw, Tamura plunged head-first into the first
officer. Merrick felt his feet lift off the ground and his head
gaining some air. The last thing he remembered was thinking, [This
is going to hurt.]
SCENE: Golden Gate Park
"Pick up the ball! Center it!" yelled Thomas at the top of his
lungs, encouraging his little brother who had just tackled the ball
carrier.
Like the good little brother he was, Yoshi followed Thomas'
directions by scooping up the ball. Although he did not know how
to center it, he ran on, knowing that Thomas would give him any
instructions he needed.
SCENE: Bridge
After tackling the FO, Tamura wasted no time. He jumped into the
helm's seat and got to work. Although he had never operated the
helm before, Tamura's fingers flew deftly, confidently across the
flight controls. Thomas' instructions were surreally clear and
easy to follow.
HOOD's thrusters pivoted the ship to a reciprocal heading. A warp
field quickly formed around the starship, swallowing it back into
hyperspace...back towards the Talosians.
NRPG:
Tsk, tsk. Run away? I think not. <eg>
Respectfully Submitted,
ENS Yoshi Tamura
Communications Department Head
USS HOOD NCC-1703
http://boi.alt-starfleet-rpg.org/ORIGINS:_USS_Hood
Harry I. Iha
hiha_asr@...
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.179
Scene: Prison Cell
Jack almost jumped in surprise as in mid conversation Stile suddenly disappeared from his cell.  He immediately called out his name but got no response.  He turned back to face Zade’s cell and saw the doctor bent over her tricorder running.  He was greatly relieved that for whatever reason their mysterious captors had allowed Stile to help her.
“Is she ok?”  He shouted over.  He paused as the doctor continued his examination, his attention focused solely on the prone navigator.  But quickly his already shredded patience began to fail. “Doctor what’s her status?”  No response.  “Doctor report!  Stile what the hell is going on?”  He watched as Stile rose to his feet and then seemed to stare off into the distance.  “Stile!”
Suddenly Payne’s voice rank out.  [Payne to Captain Steele.  Payne to any landing party member.  Payne to HOOD.  Is there anyone on this channel?]
“Rick?”  Jack called out as he kept his eyes on the unmoving Dr. Corbett.  “Commander Payne?”  He had known Payne for years and could hear the stress in his voice.  “Payne report!”  He slammed a fist against the shield at the security chief’s failure to respond and as a small release to the frustration and need to do something that had been building in him for hours.  When he found their captors he would be hard pressed not to throttle them and diplomacy be damned.
Suddenly the force field to his cell disappeared and Jack rushed out into the hall.  He paused for a second as he first looked towards Stile and Zade and then turned to see Payne at the end of the hallway slowly walking towards him.  “Rick?  Rick are you alright?”  He watched as the security officer tenses and then crouched.  “Commander report!”
Jack suddenly realized he couldn’t move.  He was completely paralyzed and could not even speak.  But his vision still worked and he watched in disbelief as his chief of security quickly raised his phaser and pointed it at his captain.
NRPG
Uh oh!  J
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Dissension==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.179
Scene: Unknown
“This is reprehensible.”  The fourth thought with increasing disgust to the group.  “On many levels.”
The first turned briefly to scrutinize the younger Talosian while the other two did the mental equivalent of rolling their eyes in irritation and ridicule.  “You were chosen for this mission because you were our most promising student.  There were many with greater education and experience but you were chosen because of your powerful mind.  Were you not made aware of the goals of this experiment *and* the methods that were too utilized?”
“I was made aware.”  He confirmed.
“And yet you question?” He asked with exaggerated patience.
“I was under the impression that our mandate was to ask questions.”  He replied evenly.
“Of the subjects not of your betters.”  The second interjected with no attempt to conceal his disdain.
“We are not asking we are toying with them.”
“It is sad that you cannot see the value of this type of experimentation.  We provide suitable stimuli and study their reactions.  It is very simple.”
“We could simply ask them questions, open a dialogue.”  The student offered knowing it was a losing battle.  He was beginning to see his teachers were looking information but also enjoyed the methods they employed.  Unnecessary as they were.
“And how would that achieve impartial evidence?  These beings are deceitful too themselves and too each other.  It is a central feature of their makeup.”
The student frowned and clamped a tighter shield around his mind knowing the others were trying to probe his thoughts.  “Their minds are simple and easy to read.  Any deceit would be obvious.  Putting them through such meaningless tests is immoral and beneath us. And while I grant the results will prove interesting and insightful they are similarly unnecessary.”
“Immoral?”  The elder asked in a shocked tone.  “They are lab experiments barely sentient and even the sentience we have provisionally granted them is still unproven.  I fear you have allowed your emotions to overpower your intellect.  It would be best if you returned to your compartment and reviewed the tenets of this experiment.  I must advise you that I will be reviewing the wisdom of including you on this mission.”
“But elder...”
“You may go.”
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.179
Scene: Prison Cell
Jack almost jumped in surprise as in mid conversation Stile suddenly disappeared from his cell.  He immediately called out his name but got no response.  He turned back to face Zade’s cell and saw the doctor bent over her tricorder running.  He was greatly relieved that for whatever reason their mysterious captors had allowed Stile to help her.
“Is she ok?”  He shouted over.  He paused as the doctor continued his examination, his attention focused solely on the prone navigator.  But quickly his already shredded patience began to fail. “Doctor what’s her status?”  No response.  “Doctor report!  Stile what the hell is going on?”  He watched as Stile rose to his feet and then seemed to stare off into the distance.  “Stile!”
Suddenly Payne’s voice rank out.  [Payne to Captain Steele.  Payne to any landing party member.  Payne to HOOD.  Is there anyone on this channel?]
“Rick?”  Jack called out as he kept his eyes on the unmoving Dr. Corbett.  “Commander Payne?”  He had known Payne for years and could hear the stress in his voice.  “Payne report!”  He slammed a fist against the shield at the security chief’s failure to respond and as a small release to the frustration and need to do something that had been building in him for hours.  When he found their captors he would be hard pressed not to throttle them and diplomacy be damned.
Suddenly the force field to his cell disappeared and Jack rushed out into the hall.  He paused for a second as he first looked towards Stile and Zade and then turned to see Payne at the end of the hallway slowly walking towards him.  “Rick?  Rick are you alright?”  He watched as the security officer tenses and then crouched.  “Commander report!”
Jack suddenly realized he couldn’t move.  He was completely paralyzed and could not even speak.  But his vision still worked and he watched in disbelief as his chief of security quickly raised his phaser and pointed it at his captain.
<<<NRPG>>>
Uh oh!  J
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: What is a Texian?==
===David Kiel===
SD 2261.180  1836.065
The Alamo
"Yeah we're at the Alamo." Corbett said when he heard the trumpets and Spanish
battle cries. "And I'd say Santa Anna is about ready to attack."
Cedria didn't recognize any of those words and looked around for something to
use as a fan. "I don't suppose the horns represent the beginning of the
celebration and revelries? Perhaps accompanied by a feast of some sort?"
Stile shook his head. "Old Earth battle. An ugly one, and only two people
ultimately survive the Mexican charge."
Cedria did a quick count and hopefully offered a followup question. "It wasn't
us I suppose?"
"Not historically speaking, no."
"Hmmm, when was this battle?"
"This is March sixth, eighteen thirty-six." Corbett looked around as if he
recognized the place. To Cedria it looked dirty and small and not worth
fighting over.
Her mind was whirring through numbers though, years, places, orbital
inclinations and 500 odd years of stellar drift. "Texas is this?"
"Yep, we're going to need to find weapons."
"I am the Prime Minister of Trill."
"I think the heats getting to you, missy."
"Eighteen thirty-six, march six. Dawn by the look of it." Cedria gazed up at
the early morning sky and pointed to just above the horizon roughly south
southeast. "I am the Prime Minister of Trill, right over there, right now."
"Well unless you can send us some Cavalry that's not going to help."
Cedria smiled. "Trill was a little ahead of Earth at this point, I could send
air cover. Except for the fact that it's a different planet and all, and that
this isn't real."
Stile looked around, the air tasted like home, the stone looked real, smooth and
fresh but otherwise just like the ruins he'd grown up near. "You sure? Whoever
these smug Yankee bastards are they seem to have no end of spatial powers.
Perhaps time travel is one."
"They are telepaths. That's about all I know, but of that much Im sure. We
Trills are mildly telepathic. I don't think they were expecting that, and when
they were sending me to my `vision' I got lost. I've been wandering for, I'm
not sure. Seems like weeks though. How is my body doing?"
"Looked just fine to me." Corbett ran his hand over the wall, the texture was
perfect, exactly how he had imagined the place would have been when still in
use,… "Exactly as I imagined." He looked at Cedria. "Beginning to think you're
right, everything here is how I expect it to look. There should be a surprise,
something historians didn't know. Something washed away by time. A column that
was removed before historians got to marking everything to its place. The name
of a soldier's girlfriend carved in the wall, before the years wore it clean.
It matches what's in my head just a little too well."
"They fetched it out and set it up here."
"Well if you're Telepathic, can you tell what they're planning? What they're up
to? How their detention cell technology works, maybe?"
"No chance." She shook her head. "I can't even see what they really look like.
Their telepathic power is like a raging bonfire, each of them could easily burn
our brains to a crisp. Im a matchstick by comparison." She patted him on the
shoulder. "You're a bit of dry grass."
His eyes narrowed and his scowl showed his appreciation of her `compliment'.
"Well, miss Matchstick, the third charge of this fine morning left this place
overrun. We'd better find a way out before then. Or, a way to win this
battle."
Respectfully submitted;
David Kiel
Lt Cedria Zade,
NAV, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Calling for Help==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2261.181
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
Holden Wheelie lay on the deck staring up at the deckhead of the bridge in a daze.  He knew there was something he should be doing.  Knew he needed to move and stop someone.  But he was drifting in and out of consciousness and couldn't quite wrap his mind around actually moving let alone taking any action.  Action against what he asked himself again.
The science officer hit the first officer.  He rememebered that.  Was that it?  Did he have to come to Commander Merrick's defence?  No, that played itself out.  Was that before or after the first officer went crazy?  He wasn't sure.  And what the frak was going on aboard this ship?  He'd worked hard throught the Academy making sacrific after sacrifice to achieve his goal, duty aboard a starship.  Any thing less would be failure.  And he had done.  He was aboard HOOD.  Sure she wasn't EXETER or ENTERPRISE but she was a CONSTITUTION class the most modern of modern and crewed by the best of the best.  Best of the best, he chuckled.  Not likely.  Officers were slapping officers, and then they were going crazy and shouting and well, he realized he was an officer and he was lying down on the deck for some reason.
He groaned as the pain in his head began to bring his consciousness back closer to the here and now.  Why was the communications officer sitting in his chair?  Slowly memory began to slip back into his consciousness.  The comm officer had gone crazy, that seemed to be par for this ship, and attacked them all.  Holden had to retake control of the bridge. 
Just before he tried to pull himself up.  He watched as Tamura suddenly leaped up from the helm and kicked a stirring first officer in the head.  Holden used this momentary distraction to make his move.  Ignoring the screaming pain in his head he pulled himself up to his console and hit the comm panel.  "Security to the bridge!  Emergency!  Security to the...."  More pain and then all went dark.
Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD:  Texans Never Forget==
===by Steve Apple===
SD 2261.180 ((1836.066))
Scene: The Alamo
<<Snip From Dave’s Post “What is a Texian?” (Finest Beings on Planet Earth)
"… Their telepathic power is like a raging bonfire, each of them could easily burn our brains to a crisp. I’m a matchstick by comparison." She patted him on the shoulder. "You're a bit of dry grass."
His eyes narrowed and his scowl showed his appreciation of her `compliment'. "Well, Miss Matchstick, the third charge of this fine morning left this place overrun. We'd better find a way out before then, or a way to win this battle."
End Snip>>
As if in answer to his thoughts Corbett spied three Mexican soldiers running across the square.
“He encontrado algunos cerdos gringo ahi!” Yelled one of the soldiers, obviously spotting the two officers.
“Get behind the broken part of that wall over there.” Corbett shouted at the Trill.
“Why?”
“The fat one on the right just said he spotted some white pigs and because they’re kneeling, which means they’re getting ready to fire.” Corbett yelled diving behind the wall as three large caliber rifle shots hit the stone.
“Son of a bitch.” Corbett spat as he reflexively reached into his boot and brought out his colt. “This is for Davey, Sam and Jim.” He shouted as he popped up and fired three successive rounds.
Cedria glanced over and saw the doctor had the same smile he had when he went after the poisonous rabbit. He was insane that had to be it, there was no other explanation, she thought.  “You know this is an illusion and nothing more?” She questioned.
“I know that,” Corbett scowled. “However, besides feeling good about payback there was a method to my madness.”
“Madness is right, only an idiot or someone quite insane goes around shooting ancient weapons at illusions.”
Corbett smiled at her and characteristically pushed his hat to the back of his head. “We’ll see,” he said as he jumped over the wall and headed toward where the soldiers had been.
Cedria frowned, but stayed put. After a few moments and the lack of additional gunfire she poked her head over the wall and saw the doctor walking toward three prone figures. “He actually managed to hit them,” she said to herself as she moved to follow him.
Corbett stopped several feet from the bodies and turned to see Cedria making her way cautiously to him. “Tell me what you see.” He said when she caught up to him
“I see three dead illusions.” She said.
“No you don’t.” Corbett said still facing away from the bodies.
Cedria’s patience with him were wearing thin. “Stop playing games doctor.”
“This is no game darlin; you and I have minds that are how did you put it, oh yeah like dry grass.”
“No I said your mind was like dry grass.” She corrected.
“See that’s your problem,” Corbett reprimanded. “You’re so used to thinking as one being you forget you’re really two distinct life forms.”
“What’s your point doctor?”
“My point is that Zade knows that this is just an illusion; however you Cedria and I the lowly humanoids still believe this is very real.”
“What?”
“Why are we still here?” He asked. “And why does the air smell of gunpowder? Why do our ears hear the sounds of battle so clearly and coming closer? It’s because we need proof that this is an illusion, Zade on the other hand because of his mild telepathy does not.”
“If you believe that then why did you interact with them?”
“For proof my dear.” Corbett said. “I shot each one in the chest.”
“I can see that; so how is that proof.”
“Because I shot them with a .38 caliber bullet, which would create a wound that is inconsistent with the vision in my mind that each one has a smoldering hole the size of my fist to the left side of their chests.”
Corbett heard Cedria gasp at his words and turned to see the wounds he just described.
Immediately as if in the blink of an eye he was back in his cell, alone, the force field holding him prisoner an inky black.
“Told you so!” He said out loud and then pulled his hat over his eyes and promptly fell asleep.
Respectfully submitted;
Steve Apple
Stile Corbett, MD
CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Saving the Day with Technobable==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD: 2261.181
MD: Not Hppy Hour
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
Sean gripped his aching head and swore for the fiftieth time that he would never drink again to excess.  Wait a minute.  Oh that's right.
"Tamura you ass!"  he shouted, and immediately regretted the cranial reverberations that the exclamation cost him.  He opened his eyes carefully.  He was still on the bridge.  "Small favors," he muttered.  "Someone give me a status report."
Hemux responded immediately from the Conn. "You won't like it."
"Ar'Rhianna!" Sean growled.
"We're headed back the way we came.  Warp 5."
"What happened?"
"Tamura went rogue.  He's locked out the controls."
Carefully, Merrick got to his feet.  As the former chief engineer, he knew there were still some things they could do.  "Cut power to the antimatter feeds.  Stall us out."
"I'm working on that now,"
Suddenly the hum of the ship's drives cut back.
"Good job.  How far out are we?"
"About 2 light years."
"No far enough." Sean complained as he rubbed at the back of his neck  He surveyed the bodies strewn across the deck.  Tamura lay at his feet, a satisfied smile playing across his face.  "Sweet dreams sunshine," he said.  He turned to Hemux, "You mentioned creating a telepathic shield of some kind to protect us.  What do you need to make it happen and how long will it take?"
"It's just a theory, but a theta modulated warp field ..."
"Whoa whoa," Sean said putting up his hands.  "Theta is a bad word and you know it.  We don't want to cook our synapses."
"Well if Corbett was here he'd probably tell us to inject the crew with something to make it all better.  But since he's not, this is all I have."
Sean sighed.  How intense does the field need to be?
"About 25%."
"My head isn't up to calculations just now, so what would the half-life of the crew be before they start turning into useless lumps of quivering protoplasm."
"About 3 hours.  With about a day of neural rehab to get back to normal."
"And that means about 4 hours before the damage starts to become irreversible."
Hemux nodded. Neither bothered to add, "if it works at all."
Sean tried not to think of the crew staggering around as their brain paths stopped working.  "We'll have to try it.  So you need a plasflow calibrator?"
"You called it a what?" Hemux asked in confusion.
"The dual tube device with the wavy red lines in it.  Has some black manual adjustors.  We have three in the engine room."
"Right.  Yes, those."
"Ok then, make it happen."
NRPG: Oh that was *awful*.
Regretfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==USS HOOD: alpha, beta and the rest==
===by David Martins===
MD 2.1630
Scene: USS HOOD: Engineering
With a headage building up, Hemux lay on her back attaching one of those, what
Merrick called `a plasflow calibrator' to the shield emitter array. She pulled
herself from under the console and tapped some keys on the tricorder. Things
looked good.
With Seans help they now had the three calibrators added to the shield emitters.
When they would raise the shield the telepathic influence would be broken off
and the crew would return gto their normal behaviour, at least if everything was
going to plan.
She went up to the comm and messaged the Bridge "Hemux to Merrick, all
calibrators are in place and ready, Sir."
[Excellent, keep an eye on the reading as I raise the shields.]
Hemux nodded and a few seconds later the shields started to get online. Only
seconds later her headage diapeared and the medical tricorder showed that the
alpha- and betawaves from the crewmembers where returning to their normal
status.
"Shields are holding, the theta modulated warp field is in place and holding. I
think we are back to normal for now."
[Get back to the bridge then, Hemux] said Sean.
"On my way" she said and rushed back to the Bridge.
Scene: USS HOOD: BRIDGE
Hemux dropped took place at her console as slowly the crewmembers where
regaining consciousness again. One by one they stood up, looked confused around
them, but with some words from her or Merrick got back to their duty.
"Now, Hemux, how long do we have before we need to drop the Theta field?"
"We have 2 hours, 47 minutes before the effects of the theta radiation will
start to build, in 3 hours and 19 minutes we will reach dangerous levels and
will need a severe decontamination of the ship and treatement of the crew, in 3
hours and 37 minutes, levels will reach a level where most of the crew will
suffer permanent damage."
Sean sighed, why do science officers always tend to be blabbermouths? "Good, so
in less then three hours we must find our missing crew and get the RUTGLEDGE
back in our hand."
Hemux nodded "Or we have to find a safer solution to these telepathic attacks."
Merrick looked around "suggestions, anyone ?"
<<<NRPG>>>
Very nice post, Bryan. Anyway, here is another post to count for June!
Respectfully,
David Martens
Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux
CSciO ,
Sovereignty Fleet
USS HOOD NCC 1703


ASR ORIGINS
ASR ORIGINS
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