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[[Category:Bureau of Information]][[Category:Task Forces/Unit Portals]][[Category:ASR: ORIGINS]][[Category:ORIGINS: USS Hood]]
[[Category:Bureau of Information]][[Category:Task Forces/Unit Portals]][[Category:STAR FLEET: ORIGINS]][[Category:ORIGINS: USS Hood]]
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            Jack rolled over and groaned.  Apparently tequila and vodka didn’t mix.  Or at least didn’t mix as well as they used to when he was younger.  Swinging his feet around he dragged himself out of bed and headed for the sonic shower.  It was tempting to head down to the gym and indulge in a real shower with real hot water but the thought was too embarrassing.  The gym would be busy and he didn’t want the crew to see their commanding officer hung over.  Likewise he had no plans to head down to sickbay to have the doctor alleviate the pain.  It was a matter of pride.  Besides it wasn’t that bad, certainly Sean and Stile had to be feeling worse.   
Jack rolled over and groaned.  Apparently tequila and vodka didn’t mix.  Or at least didn’t mix as well as they used to when he was younger.  Swinging his feet around he dragged himself out of bed and headed for the sonic shower.  It was tempting to head down to the gym and indulge in a real shower with real hot water but the thought was too embarrassing.  The gym would be busy and he didn’t want the crew to see their commanding officer hung over.  Likewise he had no plans to head down to sickbay to have the doctor alleviate the pain.  It was a matter of pride.  Besides it wasn’t that bad, certainly Sean and Stile had to be feeling worse.   


   
   
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ASR ORIGINS.
ASR ORIGINS.


==USS HOOD: older then old...==
==USS HOOD: older then old...==
Line 501: Line 497:


Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux
Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux
CSciO , USS HOOD NCC 1703
CSciO , USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Briefing Continues==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD: 2260.251
MD: 2.1430
Scene: Conference Room
<<<old>>>
Hemux projected a planet "This is Velorum IV. The red dot near the equator is the colony. Star fleet decided to set up a permanent colony to investigate Velorum IV and the star system. That colony was there for almost two years and doing permanent archeological digs and excavations. Everything seemed normal, they reported regularly, there where numerous objects they found and tried to classify and so on."
A image of a huge pyramid was shown and she pointed to it "This is what I think causes the problem: the last confirmed report before the distress call was that they had found an unusual object : a 400 feet high pyramid shaped building, floating a few feet above the floor. No traces of any energy field, anti -grav units or engines that kept it floating... The head of the archeological team, Dr Barton Fisk, reported they where going to penetrate what seemed to be the entrance and gain access to the pyramid. And the rest, well I guess we all know the rest..."
ARr'Rhiana turned of the projection and turned on the lights again. "That is what I could dig up in the archives and files from Star Fleet. Some parts of of the Velorum files are classified and sealed to Alpha - level security only. Any questions ?" she said and sat down again on her chair.
<<<new>>>
“Did the pyramid just appear?”  The captain asked.  “I mean I know it’s a big world but you’d think they’d notice a 400 foot pyramid.”
Hemux nodded.  “The planet has been scanned numerous times both by this expedition and the previous.  The problem is that most of the planet, including the area in question, is generally cloud covered.  Add to that the lack of any type of emissions coming from it and it would be extremely hard to see especially if you aren’t looking for it.”  She raised a hand to halt Jack’s next question.  “According to the team’s report they did begin to re-examine the past planetary scans to see if they missed it or if it wasn’t there but by the looks of it they only did a quick scan they were more interested in conducting their tests on the structure itself.”
Jack frowned at that.  He supposed he couldn’t blame them but he’d like to know if the pyramid was an ancient structure or if it had appeared recently.
“Any chance of cracking out the Alpha files.’  The first officer asked.
Jack nodded.  “I’ve sent in the request but so far no specific responses.”
“Specific response?”
“I get the impression that a number of the higher ups know something but officially they don’t.  I can’t seem to narrow it down to a branch that even wants to admit to putting the classification on.  Our fleet commander has jumped in with both feet.  But for now we need to operate on the assumption that we’re going to have to go in blind.”
“Hopefully the archeological team will be able to fill in the blanks.” 
“If any of them still live.”  Gar added.  They all hoped that members of the team had survived what ever disaster had struck.  But after repeated hails since the initial distress call there had only been silence.
<<<NRPG>>>
All: Feel free to add your characters thoughts or questions or add additional info.
Respectfully,
Andy Catterick
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Contemplating Mysterium==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2260.252
MD 2.1435
Scene: Briefing Room, USS HOOD
Sean Merrick *hated* his lack of self control. He especially loathed
himself now that he had to now heroically exert it just to be presentable in
the briefing. Every 5 seconds he had to forcibly command his hand to
refrain from rubbing his eyes or neck or vulcan nerve pinch cluster ...
anything at all that would betray the hangover he had earned from downing
TWO BOTTLES of hard liquor.
Every time his eyes wandered over to Dr. Corbett, he fought the urge to
facetiously mouthe out, "You bastard."
Captain Steele, mangificient bastard that *he* was, looked as fresh as the
morning dew.
Maybe he doing drugs. No other reasonable explanation for him to look so
professional and pain free. Except perhaps that he hadn't drunk as much the
night before and was probably over the worst of his hangover.
Self-controlled Bastard.
Like a snapping twig, Merrick suddenly felt very sad. Thoughts drifted
between the details of what would have otherwise been an interesting
technical brief and his daily nightmares.
Figuring prominently into them was that cute asian from communications who'd
died right in front of him on Monil IV. For some reason, she'd replaced the
visions of Jeri dying on Vulcan. The woman had possessed a beautiful exotic
name that was difficult for him to pronounce. He had already forgotten it.
Somehow that didn't seem right.
The crazy pious Klingon had also been in his dreams. His whole long-winded
apologetic treatise had replayed in high bandwith fidelity. That's what he
got for being raised in a theistic religion.
Sorry to disappoint you God, but I still don't believe in you.
There had been a time that he had. In those days he'd found providence in
every good run of luck and rebuke in many a stroke of bad. It was laughable
superstition he now felt. And yet he figured he had been happier somehow
that way. Like a kid who still believed in Christmas.
And what did he say to that? Tough luck? That's just the way the universe
sucks? There was a label for that way of thinking: Stoicism. It was a
stark, unsatisfying label. When he tried to ignore the problem and just be
happy about what he could get out of life, he knew he was playing out
another label: Hedonism. He knew how gratifying that could sometimes be.
But the party always ended, the rush always faded, and the cold hard reality
of his lonely life eventually returned. And then everyone eventually died.
Pathetic.
Wasn't there something better? Perhaps there was. Perhaps he'd
had it once and could go back to it.
Right. Sure. Whatever. And what about Jeri? And that comms chick? And 3
billion Vulcans etc etc etc? But if the answer was not in what he had once
believed in, what then?
NRPG: Character Developement.
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Hangovers and Briefings==
===by Steve Apple===
SD 2260.252
MD 2.1435
Scene: Sickbay, USS HOOD
Corbett knew he needed coffee, hot and strong. He also knew that there was no stronger coffee than that available to sickbay personnel. Even the swoosh of the door sounded amplified a thousand times as he entered sickbay.
“Rough night eh cowboy?” Lt. Commander Grey asked with a smirk.
“It seems I may have gotten a little carried away with my vices last night. I am in dire need of coffee madam so please tell me you have brewed some.”
“It’s in the conference room.” She said.
“Also if you would please put together that recipe I gave you should just such an occasion arise I would be ever so grateful.” He said pulling his hat down in front of his eyes.
She gave him a dark look as she stood and walked over to the dispensary cart. “By the way we need to talk about something.”
“Thank you Mother.” He replied as he shuffled toward the conference room ignoring her last comment.
The coffee looked and smelled terrible he thought as he tipped the pot and watched the thick liquid fill his cup. The taste was bitter and the acrid smell was overpowering, it was exactly what he needed. As his shaky hand held the cup to his lips, out of the corner of his eye he saw Mother approach him with a hypospray.
“Why don’t you just drink synthehol?” She asked as she injected him.
As the coffee and drugs hit his blood stream his hangover ebbed enough for him to gather the energy to become indignant. “The distilling of alcohol to its purest form – tequila, took man thousands of years to perfect. Do not suppose that science with its reorientation of an OH group could do anything other than ruin its texture, taste and above all its effect.”
“Ah huh. What about the headache, nausea and vertigo of a hangover?” She quipped.
“It is the duality of its nature and should be embraced as reparations for ones over indulgence. A wise man named Homer Simpson once said in a toast ‘Here's to alcohol... The cause and solution to all of life’s problems’.
“You just keep thinking that way slick,” she said frowning at him. “Which brings me to another aspect of your behavior that is disrupting my routine and pissing me off?”
Corbett was feeling better, but wasn’t sure he was up to placating his head nurse at the moment. “I am sorry Mother I won’t do it again. I promise.”
“Don’t try to placate me with empty words, besides I doubt this is a promise you could keep Cowboy.”
His headache fading he was now intrigued by her words. “Alright I’ll bite, what horrendous thing have I done now to upset you.”
“You’re little girlfriends are constantly coming down here looking for you and disrupting my staff.” She said frowning.
“That seems like a bit of an exaggeration.” He said with a sigh.
“Does it now.” She answered sarcasm dripping from her words. “Let’s see, while you were off getting drunk with Commander Merrick. Lieutenant Powers came down here followed by Ensign Flores, Yeoman Vail, Crewman Boyle, and my personal favorite Commander Thompson. So you better nip this in the bud now, or I’m going to let them know about each other.”
Corbett wasn’t sure he should smile, or frown as his nurse ran off that list of names.”My apologies Mother, right after the Captain’s briefing I will have a talk with the ladies in question and ask them to refrain from visiting sickbay unless they are ill.”
“You better Cowboy, or so help me…”
“Sorry Mother,” He said cutting her off. “But I have to go, or I’ll be late for the Captain.” He said as he bolted out of sickbay.
Scene: Briefing Room, USS HOOD
Corbett sat in the briefing room across from Merrick. The man looked terrible, his eyes were red and his face had a slight green tinge that spoke volumes. Every time the man would look over at him, Corbett would smile and lift his coffee cup in mock salute. He knew the Commander was cursing him under his breath and gained immense pleasure from taunting the man. He liked Sean and knew he would come clean with his friend and tell him about the chemical remedy that made him look right as rain, but that would be later.
< Snip from Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux “Older Than Old”>
The image zoomed in on the binary stars in the centre "Alpha Velorum is the biggest and brightest star, it is a type B star, a sub - giant. Beta Velorum is the companion star and a type F star. This also implicates that the system's radiation levels are much higher than those in the Earths Solar system. For the helm and the safety of the crew it means we should keep a great distance between the ship and the sun." She waved her hand to the doctor "I am sure the doctor can give us more details on the risks for our health and the precautions we should take
Corbett was caught off guard by her question, no one told him he was expected to talk.
“Ah, well the shields will need to be up at all times in order to deflect the radiation from this type of star and keep it from permeating the hull and causing health issues to the crew. The planet is another matter altogether. When on the surface of the planet the landing party should be able to operate without protective eyewear and clothing. As a precaution I think the landing party should be given a combination of Hyronalyn and Kelotane before beaming down.”
As Hemux continued Corbett could see Merrick shoot him a dirty look and mouth the words “Smart Ass”.
NRPG: Character Developement.
Respectfully Submitted,
Steve Apple
Stile Corbett, MD
CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: You Know What This Means Right?==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD: 2260.263
MD: 5.0900
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
"Standard orbit," Steele ordered as the HOOD swung in toward Velorum IV and
cut out of warp.
Steele felt unimpressed at the bright, brownish yellow and gray sphere on
the view screen. It certainly wasn't a pretty world. Just the kind of
place archeologists would love to putter around naturally.
Hemux was already eagerly processing sensor data. Steele let her work for a
minute before she uttered an ominous "Uh oh." At once, Steele was at the
science officer's station.
"Report."
Hemux was visibly concerned. "I'm not picking up any signs of the
archeology team from the colony site." She turned the gain on her dashboard
and punched in a few filters. "Nothing. Nothing is alive down there,
captain."
"Communications?"
Powers spoke up. "No comms traffic, sir. I'm picking up a smattering of
automated beacons and telemtry from survey satellites."
"What about the pyramid?" Steele pressed.
"It's there. I'm picking up the dig site. No visuals due to the soupy
atmosphere overhead. I think we'll have to beam down in any case because
nothing at all is reading from that pyramid except hard stone."
"Could the radiation from the suns be interferring with sensors?"
"Don't believe so sir. Unless they have gone into the pyramid or some other
underground shelter ...." she trailed off, not wishing to state the
uncomfortably obvious conclusion.
"Freakin ghost planet," Merrick quipped. Steele shot his first officer a
smirk.
"Take along the usual suspects Sean. Get us some answers."
NRPG: Just a quick post to get us going again.
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
==ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "I've Got a Bad Feeling About This..."==
===Posted by Scott Lusby (LCDR Gar Th'elenth)===
SD: 2260.271
MD: 2.0630
Setting: Officer's Mess, E-Deck, USS HOOD
<<snip- from Andy's post, entitled "I Swear it's True">>
"My buddy saw it." The ensign answered. "It's got these long hands, paws,
I don't know what'd you call them. Anyway they're covered in these things
that look like suction cups. They suck the salt right out of you and you're
dead."
"Rogers you are so gullible it's sad." His table mate said as he shook his
head.
"My buddy wouldn't lie."
"Well I'll tell you one thing, if we run into one of those things it can
suck my phaser."
Jack tried his best not to spill his coffee as he chuckled at the response.
The even funnier thing was he'd seen the report and new the ensign's story
was more or less true. He shuddered at the thought as he took a seat at a
table with the Chief Engineer. "Morning."
"Good morning captain. A pleasant sleep?"
"Pleasant enough." Jack lied. "How's things in engineering?"
<<end snip>>
Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth put down his cup. "As well as can be
expected; those Klingon devils gave us more of a beating than I care to
admit," he grumbled. "But my teams have things squared away; everything's
running to spec again," he said. Then, he shrugged, and added, "Well,
almost everything."
Now, Steele put his cup down and raised an eyebrow. "'Almost,' Commander?"
Gar shook his head. "It's these new warp engines, Captain- they're so
bleedin' new...they hardly underwent any meaningful testing before they
slapped 'em on these ships, you know--"
Steele cut his chief engineer off. "Wait a second- who have you been
hanging around with? Since when do Andorians employ interjections like
'bleedin' in their speech?"
The blue-skinned engineer downed the remainder of his coffee. "When they
run out of expletives in their native language, that's when," he quipped.
After a brief pause, he continued. "I'm working on it, Captain. It's
probably some tiny miscalculation in the intermix equation, or something in
the harmonics that is making the port engines run closer to red-line than
I'd like. No imminent danger...but if pushed too far, it could go bad in a
hurry."
Steele sipped his own coffee. "Keep me posted, Chief," he said, and left it
at that.
Gar glanced over at the two officers behind him who had been talking about
the salt creature, and nodded. "You know," he said, "I heard that the crew
of the new FARRAGUT was nearly wiped out by some mysterious cloud that
drained them of their hemoglobin after enveloping them." He paused, then
added, "Some stories, huh?"
Steele smiled at his chief engineer. "Welcome to deep space," he said,
draining his own cup.
SD: 2.0941
Setting: CO's Office, Starbase 6
Vice Admiral Joseph Carstairs was completely exasperated.
He leaned forward and, glaring at the officer on the screen, he lifted his
arm up. "Do you see dese cuff braids? Dose make me a Vice Admiral,
COMMANDER," he said, making sure sufficient emphasis was placed on the
junior officer's rank to make his point. Combined with his thick Brooklyn
accent, it was usually most intimidating.
"Do I make myself clear, COMMANDER, or do I need tuh make another call to
get them AND end yer career?"
To his credit, the officer on the screen did not fluster easily; though he
shuffled in his seat visibly, his face, unfortunately for Carstairs, did not
waiver. [[[I AM sorry, Admiral,]]] he said, his tone taught and stiff,
[[[but if you want that information on the Velorum Project, you'll have to
get it some other way; my orders come from someone with more cuff braids
than you.]]]
"I'll do just that, Commander," Carstairs huffed. "Carstairs out."
As the small viewscreen on his desk went black, the admiral leaned back in
his chair and sighed heavily. "These people make me want to drink heavily,"
he mumbled, lifting a tablet off of his desk.
The problem was, he didn't know WHO he could contact that would loose the
information on Velorum for him; it was locked up under such tight security
that no one seemed to even know who had jurisdiction over the project...
He'd tried civilian channels first- the Department of Colonial Affairs, who
at least SHOULD have had initial jurisdiction- but they knew nothing. Then
he tried Star Fleet Intelligence, figuring if something odd or dangerous was
uncovered, they may have classified everything; SFIA denied everything.
They could be lying, of course...but somehow, he didn't think so. Not this
time...
Joe rocked slowly in his chair, and pondered this Velorum mess. HOOD was
heading straight into that mess- they'd be there in a few days- and he had
nothing to give them.
If he were Jack Steele, he'd be pissed about now...
MD: 2.1430
Setting: Main Conference Room, A-Deck, USS HOOD
<<snip- from Andy's post, entitled "Briefing Continues">>
"Any chance of cracking out the Alpha files.' The first officer asked.
Jack nodded. "I've sent in the request but so far no specific responses."
"Specific response?"
"I get the impression that a number of the higher ups know something but
officially they don't. I can't seem to narrow it down to a branch that even
wants to admit to putting the classification on. Our fleet commander has
jumped in with both feet. But for now we need to operate on the assumption
that we're going to have to go in blind."
"Hopefully the archeological team will be able to fill in the blanks."
"If any of them still live." Gar added. They all hoped that members of the
team had survived what ever disaster had struck. But after repeated hails
since the initial distress call there had only been silence.
<<end snip>>
Gar pushed his blue lips together, and his antennae stood straight up on his
head. He was concerned- very much so: the very fact that they had a
distress call from the colony on Velorum, and have heard nothing since, gave
him an icy-cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. On Andoria, bad news
frequently came by way of snow or ice; he had a feeling the ice ball inside
of his gullet was bearing similar news about the colony.
"When will we arrive on scene?" he asked.
"Three days," replied Hemux. He glanced at Steele. "We should be ready
with a full rescue-and-recovery team when we get there- just in case."
Steele nodded. "Make it happen," he said simply. "All departments, we've
got three days to get ready- dismissed."
As everyone got up from the briefing, there was a definite change in tone
with regards to the crew's feelings towards Velorum. Before, it was a
planet of great mystery, which naturally sparked visions of excitement and
adventure; now, it had all the feel of a large graveyard, a tomb for a
failed colony that maybe dug just a little too far.
One question continued to eat away at Gar's senses: What exactly had the
team unearthed?
MD: 5.0900
Setting: Bridge, A-Deck, USS HOOD
<<snip- from Brian's last post, entitled "You Know What This Means Right?">>
"It's there. I'm picking up the dig site. No visuals due to the soupy
atmosphere overhead. I think we'll have to beam down in any case because
nothing at all is reading from that pyramid except hard stone."
"Could the radiation from the suns be interfering with sensors?"
"Don't believe so sir. Unless they have gone into the pyramid or some other
underground shelter ...." she trailed off, not wishing to state the
uncomfortably obvious conclusion.
"Freakin' ghost planet," Merrick quipped. Steele shot his first officer a
smirk.
"Take along the usual suspects Sean. Get us some answers."
<<end snip>>
At that moment, Commander Gar stepped from the turbolift. "I'm ready,
Commander," he said, approaching Merrick. "Never know what an engineer's
eyes and ears- and antennae- might find," he said, shrugging."
<<Brian/Andy?>>
<<TIMELINE>>
2.0630- Gar and Steele share some interesting tales over coffee.
2.0941- Admiral Carstairs tried quite unsuccessfully, to wrest the Velorum
Papers free from Star Fleet's grasp.
2.1430- Gar has a bad feeling about the fate of the colonists as the
briefing breaks up.
5.0900- Gar volunteers for landing party duty.
<<NRPG>>
All- Sorry for the long silence- professional and familial demands kept me
quiet for far too long. I think I've worked out a comfortable balance now,
however, so I am hoping this means I am back for weekly posting.
Andy/Brian- one wary Andorian reporting for landing party duty...
Respectfully Submitted,
- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth
Chief Engineer
USS HOOD NCC-1703
AND
/\ VADM Joseph Carstairs
Commander, Starbase 6
ASR: ORIGINS
==[ORIGNS] USS HOOD: The First Discovery==
===by Andy Catterick===
SD 2260.272
MD: 5.1300
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
Captain’s Log supplemental,
Commander Merrick and the Landing Party have just signaled they have successfully beamed down to the planet surface and are enroute to the dig site.  As a precaution Sean decided to materialize one kilometer away in the hopes that should there be anything dangerous they will have time to react rather then dropping into the middle of things.  If there is something nasty down there I hope the team’s personal tricorders are able to detect it but I’m far from convinced they will.  Dr Corbett and Lieutenant Hemux spent the better part of the day scouring over sensor readings and beaming down a multitude of probes and test kits.  Unfortunately we have not discovered a trace of where the archeological team has disappeared too, or what may have caused the initial panic.  In the end it looks like the Mark One Eyeball will be the test that counts.  Hopefully.
As for the rest of us we’re using our time to conduct scans of this system.  It is remarkable in its uniqueness and the science departments are all fighting each other for sensor time.  At least they have something to do.  This waiting for results may kill me.
End log.
Scene: Planet Surface
Crewman Gene Lowl was like a kid on his birthday.  This was his first Landing Party duty and it was everything he thought it would be.  They were alone out in the middle of nowhere, scouting through a strange world trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle.  And he was part of the team that would do it.  As a security officer his primary function was scouting and defence but Commander Merrick had made it clear that his opinions and thoughts carried as much weight as the medical and science members of the team.  He didn’t want to let the X/O down and he really wanted to be the one to discover something important first so he was doing his best to keep his eye on his tricorder and the terrain ahead.  As if on cue his tricorder beeped and he quickly brought up the report. 
“Commander!”  He said coming to a halt and turning back to look down the dry river bed.  “I’m picking up three humanoid bodies 50 meters ahead.  They’re given off readings I don’t really understand but it looks like their dead sir.”
Two minutes later a crouching Dr.  Corbett looked up at Sean.  “It seems I have to concur with Mr. Lowl’s diagnosis.  These poor bastards have been dead for several days.”
“What killed them doctor?”  Merrick asked.
Stile rose from his crouch and snapped his tricorder closed.  “I have no idea.”
<<<NRPG>>>
Hi gang, the short version:  We had a good start, don’t let it die out now. POST!
I hope to get another one out before Friday as I will be away from The 2nd through to the 15th.  Not there will be anything that can’t wait but should there be some sort of crisis then Brian will provide the answers.  J
And in case I didn’t mention it:  POST!
Respectfully,
Andy Catterick
CAPT Jack Steele
CO USS HOOD NCC1703


ASR ORIGINS
ASR ORIGINS
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