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[[Category:Bureau of Information]][[Category:Task Forces/Unit Portals]][[Category:STAR FLEET: PRIME]][[Category:Silver Fleet]][[Category:Task Force Zinderneuf]][[Category:USS FEYNMAN]]
[[Category:Bureau of Information]][[Category:Task Forces/Unit Portals]][[Category:STAR FLEET: PRIME]][[Category:Silver Fleet]][[Category:Task Force Zinderneuf]][[Category:USS FEYNMAN]]
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<center><font style="font-size: 50px; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold; text-shadow: 4px 4px 4px black;">U.S.S. ''FEYNMAN'' NCC-66000<br> March 1996 Posts</font></center>
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<div style="float:right; margin-top: 25px; padding-right: 200px;">[[Image:FEYNMAN PATCH DRAFT2.png|450px|FEYNMAN Shoulder Patch|center]]</div>


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<font style="font-size: large; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">TOTAL MARCH 1996 POSTS: 59</font>
<font style="font-size: large; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">TOTAL MARCH 1996 POSTS: TBD</font>
<br>
<br>
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<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: We're Back</h3>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: We're Back</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 3-2-1996</h4>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 3-2-1996</h4>
Line 2,278: Line 2,278:
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm<br>
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm<br>
------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Adversary Unseen</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 3-22-1996</h4>
SD:80322.2230<br>
MD:1.1510<br>
Zane looked out the canopy to the sleek fighters on either side
of him. The yellow nose cone of the ME-109 which he and his comrades flew
standing out against the blue of the cloudless sky. Below him at 3000
feet the 6 Mustangs were creeping up on their prey, a wing of FW-190s.
Jerran had positioned his flight above the FW-190s and with the
sun to his back. The Allied planes would be hard to spot even by the
most hawk-eyed observer. Of course Zane had taken the same position for
his 3 aircraft relative to Jerran's flight.
Zane smiled at the thought of surprise his FCO would soon
experience. He was good a pilot but he new his FCO surpassed him. Still
he had surprise on his side, and a more maneuverable fighter.
As he watched Jerran's Mustangs begin their run Zane turned to
his two companions and gave the attack signal. He gunned the engine and
dove.
<<<NRPG>>>
Just checking my mail before heading off to bed and I couldn't resist:)
Any volunteers for the other two fighters?
Kris: now might be a good time for Krysa to prune some ego on an un-named
FCO! <VBEG>
mischievously,
Andy-->Who can fly but can spell;)
-CMDR Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-LT.CMDR Nigel Brock, Instructor, Holodeck 18<br>
-LT.CMDR Tarsa Rogers, Executive Officer, USS GAUSS<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Frisbees of Dreamland</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Charles Jencks 3-23-1996</h4>
SD 80323.0700<br>
Mission Date: 2.0830<br>
Holodeck<br>
Lt. Jerran and the four cadets filed in, as Counselor Krazny had
specified, at precisely 0830 hours. He stood before them.
"These are twin-seat F-19A Ghostrider fighter aircraft, colloquially known
as Frisbees. Our three craft... I will be flying with Lt. Jerran and you
cadets will also be paired off... will be part of an eighteen aircraft
squadron which will be engaged in Operation Dreamland. Our three craft are
to destroy two IL-76 Mainstay radar aircraft and a highway bridge twenty
kilometers beyond the Elbe River, which is the border with enemy
territory."
"We will keep a low profile, flying virtually at treetop level, to avoid
rader detection. These fighters are specially built to avoid radar
reflections as well. I will warn you, they don't handle as well as most of
the craft you're used to. Go to your planes."
Lt. Jerran and Ens. Krazny climbed into the nearest craft, with cadets in
the next two. Krazny keyed up the radio. "My craft is Phantom One, the
craft behind me is Phantom Two, and the other is Phantom Three."
"Phantom Two here, sir." one anxious cadet reported. Then the cool tones
of a female cadet came through. "Phantom Three here, sir."
Phantom One began to roll down the runway.
NRPG: Take it. They're those Stealth fighters. The sequence (for Andy's
benefit) is out of Chap 15 of Red Storm.
Charles Jencks<br>
Ens Krazny Oktyabr, CNS, USS FEYNMAN<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Persuasion</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Andrew Nugteren 3-23-1996</h4>
SD: 80323.0545<br>
MD: 1.1500<br>
"...as Chief of Security I am responsible for your safety Commander,"
Jade tried a different approach putting on a serious approach both she and
Zane knew had been invented for the situation. "I wouldn't like to see you
shot down by Lt. Jerran."
Zane smiled. "The closest he'll get to me in the air is on the other end
of a stream of cannon shells. Do you have a flight rating?"
"Not an official one myself sir," Jade began. "but Sayana held a level 3
classification when she was serving in Starfleet."
"But that must have been... years ago?"
"60 years to be pricise Commmander. They were still flying the Galactix
VII back then," she held up her hand quickly to ward off objections. "but I
assure you that the techniques have not changed that quickly. And I did
have a basic flight at the Academy."
"One flight and you expect me to let you fly against Jerran?? He's good
you know."
"Oh no," Jade smiled innocently. "Jerran's yours. I'll just take on
some of the trainees."
"All right Ensign," Zane gave an exaggeratingly large sigh. "I do need a
wingman I guess."
"Thanks Commander." Jade smiled at her sucess and then followed Zane
into the already opening doors of the holodeck.
Respectfully submitted<br>
Ensign Jade<br>
<<NRPG>><br>
I guess if someone writes away before Joseph gets a chance to do likewise
then we can shoot him down no questions asked!! <EG>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Back to the Bridge</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 3-23-1996</h4>
Stardate: 80323.1308<br>
Scene: Jenn's Quarters<br>
MD: 1.1500<br>
The lights were darkened in Krysa's quarters. She sat on the floor trying to
focus and meditate. She finally had to give up, as it didn't seem to be
helping. *What is wrong with me?* she thought.
Finally sighing, she turned the lights back on and found a brief message
from Terri, inviting anyone down for a quick flight in the Holodeck. She
smiled briefly, "Why not?" and headed out the door.
Scene: Bridge<br>
MD: 1.1615<br>
After the commissioners tirade, Jenn noticed that is was 1610. She was late.
Commander Maril would not be happy. Properly chagrined she said her
good-byes and ran to the turbolift.
Sure enough, when she reached the Bridge, Commander Maril was annoyed.
"You're late, Lt."
"I know, sir. I'm sorry. I was with Commander Zane." She said hoping that
would help.
Maril just humphed and let her know what was going on. Out of the corner of
her eye she could have sworn she saw the Bolian at Ops smiling at her
discomfort. It still was beyond her why Ein didn't like her. She would just
have to try harder.
"Any questions, Lt."
"No sir. I've got things under control." she said smiling. Unfortunately it
didn't make Maril any happier. He turned and left the bridge. Krysa sighed
and sat down in the Captain's chair, hoping the next 8 hours would be
uneventful. They wouldn't make it to Furjen until 0400 hours and that was
Lt. Koreth's shift.
She began to relax and enjoy her shift.
Regards,<br>
Lt. Krysa Jenn<br>
****<br>
NRPG: Now you've all gotten me in trouble with the FO! Shame on you<G>
Sorry about the hour that we are arriving at Furjen... but I'd already said
in another post that it would take 16 hours to get there.... Should have
calculated that a little better, huh<Sheepish G>
Kristen<br>
------------------------------------------------------------------------
(AKA - Dr. Janna Swansen, Lt. Krysa Jenn,<br>
Ens. Darla Shane, Ens. Ainese Kev, Bree,<br>
Darlea & Makayla, Captain Gabriel Faison)<br>
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/kris.htm<br>
------------------------------------------------------------------------
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Bridge</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Andrew Nugteren 3-23-1996</h4>
SD: 80323.1230<br>
Scene: Bridge<br>
MD: 2.0110<br>
>"Understood. We will contact you again when in visual range.<br>
>Feynman out" Tarrant motioned for the link to be cut.<br>
><br>
>"Tarrant to Cmdr. Maril, please report to the bridge."<br>
Lieutenat Koreth almost jumped as the turbolift doors swished open almost
instantaneously. That certainly was very prompt of the First Officer he
thought, turning only to see he had been mistaken. Ensign Jade emerged from
within and crossed the bridge to report.
"Ensign?" Tarrant questioned, surprised by her arrival on the Bridge.
"I'm sorry sir, but I couldn't sleep. I think it must be first mission
nerves or something. It was the same for Sayana Sr'qwon on her first
mission in Starfleet as Science Officer. I think I've inhereited the trait!"
Tarrant smiled to himself, reminding himself of his first mission. Now
that *had* been some time ago, although it still remained fresh in his mind.
Then again, it seemed hard to forget that his Captain had sacrificed himself
and his ship in order to save themselves against a Starfleet ship from the
future. His mind wandered back to Jade who was looking at him strangely as
if something was wrong.
"Are you all-right, sir?" concern was evident in her voice.
Tarrant shrugged off her question with a smile. "I'm sorry," he replied.
"I was just thinking back to my own first mission. Yes, I'm fine."
Jade sensed the tension in his voice and decided not to pursue the matter
further for the moment. "If it's all-right then, I'd like to do some
background research on Furjen before we arrive, and besides, I figured you
could use some help on the Bridge with the Ambassador. I understand he
wants to beam down immediately upon arrival and he's requested, or should I
say ordered, a Guard of Honour to beam down also."
"By all means, Ensign."
"Jade," she smiled a correction. "I'll make it so."
She turned and took a seat at one of the vacant Science stations behind
Tactical and began to scan through the files on recent Furjen history and
upcoming events of note on the planet, while at the same time considering in
the back of her mind the security personnel to select for the Ambassador's
Honour Guard.
Respectfully submitted<br>
Ensign Jade Sr'qwon<br>
<<NRPG>><br>
Just getting us a *fraction* of a bit closer and putting Jade on the bridge.
I figured out Ambassador *friend* would want to beam down to the surface the
<nowiki>*moment*</nowiki> we arrived at Furjen. I'm sure anyone he wants to meet will still
be asleep but I'm sure that won't stop him all the same :)
If it's fine by you Andy, I'd like to have Jade working her Alpha shift
planetside keeping tabs on the Ambassador. Babysitting I guess, although
knowing the Ambassadors temparament, that could be kinda fun :)
btw, for those interested, Jade's symbiont has the following pronunciation...
SIH-KWON<br>
<pre style="background-color: #303030; color: #ccc7e1;">
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
| Ensign Jade Sr'qwon Chief Security Officer USS FEYNMAN                    |
| Captain Paul Paxwax Fleet Intelligence Officer SILVER FLEET              |
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
| Andrew Nugteren                                              Christchurch |
| Email: andrewn@southern.co.nz                                New Zealand |
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
</pre>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Furjen</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 3-23-1996</h4>
SD 80323.2230<br>
MD 1.1800<br>
Kaung, Furjen<br>
Edir Sebel sat at his desk in the highly developed Duoquarter of the city.
He was president of Sebel Darmati Purification Corporation(SDPC), one of the
fastest growing businesses on the planet. The guards at his door let someone
in.
"Ahhh...Mr. Listine. What do you have to report?"
Listine reported, "The Federation has sent a ship, the USS Feynman, to see if
Furjen is fit to be a part of it, sir. I have also received reports that the
MPI is planning to stop us somehow."
"Mr. Listine, you know how important this could be for us. There would be no
tariffs when we trade, no inspections...."
"Yes, Mr. Sebel."
"So, I want you to send out some of our 'protection force' to the Manark
border," Sebel smiled.
Listine smiled back, "Yes, sir, I will."
"Meanwhile, I will be trying to stop the MPI through more...civilized
avenues. Now, leave before I get my guards to do it for you."
"Of course, sir."
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer, USS Feynman,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
NRPG:<br>
All: Just showing that the Furjen people are not all good.... :) Oh, BTW, that
"protection force" is nothing to laugh at.<br>
Andrew: Hope I didn't wreak havoc with your plans.
Lt. Cmdr. Onta Maril FO USS Feynman<br>
Ens. Siqor CEO USS Tesla<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Frisbees Against Mustangs</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Charles Jencks 3-24-1996</h4>
SD 80324.0015<br>
MD 2.0830 (disregard previous Frisbees post please)<br>
Lt.Jerran and the four cadets entered the holodeck, to find Counselor
Krazny standing in front of six F-19A Ghostrider fighters, with
holographic copilots already inside. "These are F-19A Ghostrider fighters,
with Stealth technology. I have sent a challenge to Commander Zane and any
five personell he can scare up. They will be participating by hololink
from Holodeck Two. They will... um, we'll wipe the sky with them this
time... be flying P-51D Mustangs, the same we flew yesterday."
Simutaneously, the hologram of Krazny on Holodeck Two ushered Zane's team
to F-14 Tomcats, the same provisions made, and they were told Jerran's
team would be flying British Supermarine Spitfires. They actually laughed
at that, just as Jerran and the cadets had. Both sides were told they had
a vast advantage, when in fact they did not.
The Ghostriders skimmed the treetops, racing toward the high-flying
Tomcats...
NRPG: Someone pick this up, I gotta go... Mom is getting mad because I've
been online so long.
And Krazny's a very good pilot, so portraying him outlasting the cadets in
the last one was very accurate.
Charles Jencks<br>
Ens Krazny Oktyabr, CNS, USS FEYNMAN<br>
And pilot of an F-19A Ghostrider (which the pilots call a Frisbee.)<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: The Ferengi Equation</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Andrew Nugteren 3-24-1996</h4>
NRPG)
Third time lucky perhaps!! I keep getting a carrier dropout, so if this is
in triplicate, please delete the other two and I offer my apologies :)
SD: 80324.0715<br>
Scene: MPI Directors Office<br>
MD: 2.0000<br>
CEO Rick Savage looked up as a weary looking Vice-Chancellor Brownlie
came into the picture on his viewer. "Vice-Chancellor"
"You have a report?" Brownlie fired at him with the utmost brevity.
"Yes sir. Our strike-force units have boarded the Ferengi cargo ship and
left orbit 10 minutes ago according to schedule. ETA in Furjen space is
0410 hours which should coincide with the arrival of the Federation ship in
the sector as well."
"Good... and news from Furjen itself?"
"Our political espionage staff are finalising their preperations sir.
Their campaign will begin with the 0800 Furjen planetary newscast. That
gives us a full day before the polling booths open; plenty of time by my
assessment. I'll remind you that Jock McLebin is in charge of the
planetside operation, so we should have no problems on the ground. I
understand you've worked with Mr. McLebin in the past sir?"
Brownlie grunted a non-commital answer. Rumor held correctly that
McLebin had worked as Brownlie's personal attache engaging in smear tactics
during the last Manark elections, but as always in politics, a policy of
neither confirm, nor deny, seemed to work wonders.
"That's all sir. I'll keep you informed. The next 24 hours will be a
time of great triumph for all of Manark V. Savage out."
__________<br>
Scene: MPI Operations HQ<br>
MD: 2.0055<br>
The atmosphere in MPI's operations nerve-centre was almost electric. A
beeping noise alerted one of the Communications operators to an incoming
message.
"Sir," her voice hastened. "We have an incoming subspace message from
the Ferengi trading vessel."
Savage stepped quickly toward her station. "On screen."
The main OPS viewer flashed to show the face of the Ferengi captain, Par
Lenor. "Commander Savage," Par smiled wickedly. "I'm so glad I got hold of
you."
"This had better be urgent," Rick said rather forecfully. "Your orders
stipulated no subspace communication until your arrival on Furjen."
"I am aware of my orders," the Ferengi stated. "However a little matter
has just been brought to my attention."
"Yes..."
"It seems there has been a slight misunderstanding with regard to the
payment for our role in the mission. My purser has informed me that only
160 bars of gold-pressed latinum were delivered before we departed."
"As I recall," Rick started to heat up. "160 bars was our agreement. I
have a copy of the contract in my office."
"I have no queries with the contract." the Ferengi continued glibly.
"I'll remind you that a Ferengi's word is his honour, however it seems that
at the time we were not made aware of a possible Federation presence. Our
latest intelligence suggests we may come across the Federation ship FEYNMAN.
To be perfectly frank Commander, we feel that it would be unfortunate for us
both if we were forced to stop and the Federation *happened* to discover
your troops in our cargo bay."
"The mission was most thoroughly explained prior to your departure," Rick
retorted. "You were made most aware of the requirements. If this is some
kind of double-crossing deal, then this is the last time you trade in Manark
V *or* Furjen space. Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly Commander," Par Lenor continued cooly. "However after all, I
am just an honest businessman trying to make a little money to support my
family. If you ask me to take greater risks, there must be greater profit
or I'm afraid we don't have a deal."
"What's your price then?" Rick conceded, realising the inevitable.
"1000 bars of the finest gold-pressed latinum," the Ferengi smiled.
"That's insane and you know it," said Rick. "1000 bars is ten times the
standard rates. We'll never agree to that much."
Lenor gestured apologetically. "I'm sorry Commander, but I do have my
costs as well... I'm sure both of us realise it would be most unfortunate
for our passengers if we failed to reach an agreement. No fare means no
ride, and space is a very cold place for passengers who don't pay their fares."
Rick gestured at the communications operator to place the Ferengi on
hold. He began to pace back and forth. The Ferengi had already received
full payment from the original contract and t was clear that they held the
ace of trumps; the troops. Par Lenor *was* probably bluffing, but this was
critical to the sucess of the entire mission. Without the strike-force,
Manark would have no way of enforcing their annexation once approved by a
mock-government. Rick gestured to the operator and the Ferengi Captain
reappeared.
"I have reached a decision," Rick told him. "The way you put it, I can
assure you that MPI would be delighted to accomodate your latest offer. I
will see to it personally that the latinum is transferred to your account
immediately."
"I'm so glad you can see sense through all this Commander," Lenor said in
a most sincere tone. "I'm sure this is only the beginning of a profitable
business relationship... for us both." His wide smile remained on the
viewer unmoving for several seconds, and then the channel terminated.
Respectfully submitted<br>
Ensign Jade<br>
<<NRPG>><br>
Just to clear up a few implications I've made in Manark V's plans:<br>
Furjen elections for the Legislative Council will be taking place at MD
3.0800 Once those are complete, the Legislature votes will also vote for a
President, the imcumbent having served his 10 year term already.
The Manark political espionage officers on Furjen are going to come up with
some very nasty scare or rumour which they can substantiate with supposed
evidence. Their aim to swing elections in favor of their own candidates.
If they took control of the Legislature, put in their own President and took
control with their strike-force, we would be obliged to step back since it's
an internal matter and Furjen is not *yet* a member of the UFP.
Of course, if some of us are on the planet when some of this begins to
happen, we could see quite a different story... :)
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Various Places...</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 3-24-1996</h4>
SD: 80324.1000<br>
MD: 1:1530 (Backpost after Flight Simm ends)<br>
Scene: 10-Forward<br>
Commisioner Thessa marched into the lounge still fuming from the
incident on the holodeck. He didn't know who he annoyed so much that he
would be placed on such an unprofessional ship but he would soon find out
and break them.
He had yet to eat that day and was famished. A private person he
would have preferred to have his meal in the quiet solitude of his own
cabin, as small as it was. But decided the bustle of the ship's main
lounge would be a good place to eavesdrop and perhaps find some useful
information.
As the doors shut behind he surveyed the room to find a good
vantage point to hear and see everything. As he did so he was shocked to
notice a figure from his past.
As was becoming his trademark, Bat leaned against the back
counter with one foot resting on the counter in front of him. He held a
glass in his left hand and was lazily polishing it with the blue and
white checkered cloth in his right. A small smile creeped across his
face. He had wondered how long it would take the Commissioner to make
his way down here.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Thessa asked as he slid into
one of the barstools in front of Bat.
"Hi Cori. Its good to see you again." He smiled as he set down
two glasses and filled them with a green liquid. Bat picked up his and
raised it in salute. "To old times!"
Both men emptied their glasses and Bat quickly refilled them. "I
was on leave on Earth when the REPULSE went missing." Bat answered the
commissioner's question.
"But what are you doing here?"
"I retired from Starfleet and really had no where to go. After
serving on the same ship for 25 years all my friends were in one place
and that place was lost....and....well, I visited family on Earth and Mars
but they didn't really know me. I couldn't stay. I made my to EPSILON.
I was going to invest my pension in a little mining business out in the
asteroid belt. It would keep me busy and as EPSILON isn't the most
civilized place in the world it would keep it interesting." He emptied
his glass again and topped both up. "You've done well for yourself
though, but I still think if you'd remained on the REPULSE...stayed in
Starfleet you'd be an admiral by now....even if you were only a marine puke."
It was the commissioner's turn to race his glass. "Semper Fi!"
Both men laughed at the private joke.
After a brief silence Thessa continued. "You were always a good
officer Bat how you can stand being stuck amongst this bunch of
incompetants?"
Bat nodded. "Yeah I heard what happened but I don't know why.
Its not like you to run around blowing off at everyone. I know your a
pig-headed bureacrat now but surely some of the officer is underneath
there. As for this ship I won't stand for any insults. They are an
excellent bunch. They care more about this ship and each other then
you'd think possible."
"I can't believe your saying that! The captain seems to think
this ship is his private holodeck. Does he ever leave the thing?"
"One, Zane very rarely endulges himself in the holodeck but he
had no downtime on EPSILON as he was getting ready for you. Two, they
are all extremely professional but yes they can be a little excentric at
times...it breaks the monotony and keeps them fresh, do you remember the
'raids' we use to pull? Three, if you step back and look at the big
picture you'd agree with the way things run around here. It makes damned
good sense. And four, besides the fact that I'm good friends with just
about everyone on this boat the captain is my nephew."
Thessa took a few moments to digest that last remark. "He's the
one! The one the REPULSE found?"
"One in the same."
"That makes no difference..." The commissioner was interrupted
by a call from the bridge.
[Commissioner we have an incoming subspace transmission for you sir.]
"I'll take in my quarters. Thessa out." He replied gruffly.
Thanking Bat for the drink he quickly shuffled out of the lounge.
Watching him go Bat wondered what had happened to change his
friend so much and what was in this communication that was making him so
nervous.
_____________<br>
Scene: The Commissioner's Quarters<br>
"....I told you not to contact me. Especially here. Everything
is proceeding according to plan. I will let you know when it is
finished." Tessa shouted at the console.
[There has been an unfortunate change in plans.]
"How can that be? The plan is simple. I go to this god-for
saken world and deny their admission to the Federation. They lose their
trading status and Manark V steps in to be the trading hub of this sector."
[Yes, well that is not what has been changed. I regret to inform
you that due to financial limitation we will only be able to pay you
one-third of the agreed upon fee. It is regrettable but necessary.]
Thessa shook inside. "It is also regrettable that I had to
re-evaluate my decision as to Furjen's future."
[I see. Well that is your decision but I would hate to think what
would happen if the Federation became aware of your dealings with
us....Do I make myself clear?] The smiling image faded from the screen.
Commissioner Thessa stared at the dark screen.
__________<br>
Scene: Bridge<br>
MD: 2.0300<br>
Zane entered the bridge from his ready-room. "Report."
"We are entered the Furjen system. We have our escorts on sensor."
"Any word from the planetary government?" Zane asked, consumed
in thought.
"No sir."
*This is damn strange.* Zane thought. Up until now the Furjen had
followed diplomatic protocal to the letter. It was unlike them to
make a change like this without first informing the Federation.
*Perhaps the communique went a stray.* Zane frowned at the likely
hood of that.
"Slow to impulse. Inform the lead ship we will maintain our
course to Furjen at full impulse. I want us to arrive there at the
prearranged time." Turning to sit in his chair Zane looked up to the
SEC/TAC station. "Go to yellow alert."
"Sir?"
"You heard me." Zane sat in a foul mood. He new the alert was
probably an over-reaction, a big one. But he remembered what happened
the last time the ship received an unexpected escort. *It was a
completly different situation* He told himself. *Than why is every
instinct in my head sounding off?*
respectfully,<br>
Andy.<br>
-CMDR Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-LT.CMDR Nigel Brock, Instructor, Holodeck 18<br>
-LT.CMDR Tarsa Rogers, Executive Officer, USS GAUSS<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: They're Going to Fire!</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 3-25-1996</h4>
Stardate: 80325.1505<br>
Scene: Bridge<br>
MD: 2.0315<br>
Lt. Jenn entered the bridge. She had set her alarm to wake her so she could
be on the bridge when they got to Furjen. She felt much more focused and
rested despite the short amount of sleep. She figured a lot of that had to
do with the Holodeck exercise. She had needed that.
Zane looked over at her, "You're up early."
"Yep, I figured I should be here and make sure you don't upset the
commissioner anymore then you already have." She said smiling, noting the
yellow alert, "Speaking of which, where is our illustrious guest?"
"Maybe he's sleeping in?" said Jerran, "I hope..." he muttered under his
breath. Krysa just nodded and headed to Ops.
"Go ahead and head off to bed, Janine. I'll take over."
"Thanks, sir. I think I'll do that." The Gamma Ops officer walked to the
turbolift.
Right on cue Commissioner Thessa appeared. "Why have we gone to Yellow
Alert? And why wasn't I called to the bridge immediately?"
"We are entering the Furjen system and have not yet been contacted by the
planetary government. It is just a precaution."
"They probably haven't contacted you because you chose to bring this ship
here at such an ungodly hour. Now couldn't that have been planned better, I
ask you?"
Zane was going to explain that this was the hour chosen by the Furjen
government, but decided it that it wasn't worth arguing with the man over.
"Mr. t'Jon. How are we doing?"
"We will arrive at the specified time, sir." said the Gamma FCO.
"Sir," said Jenn, "I'm picking up another vessel headed directly for us."
"Is it a Furjen ship like our escort?" asked Zane.
"No, it's different."
"Monitor them, Lt."
Krysa nodded and continued to monitor the ship. "It will intercept us in 5
minutes, sir."
"On Screen."
They watched as the ship came on screen. "Who is it?" asked Zane.
"Sir!" shouted Jenn. "Our escort has broken off and is heading toward the
oncoming ship. They are preparing to fire on it."
Regards,<br>
Lt. Krysa Jenn<br>
****<br>
NRPG: Is everyone up???<G><br>
Kristen<br>
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kristen and Scott Gant<br>
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm<br>
------------------------------------------------------------------------
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">SB EPSILON: Paxwax Takes a Second Look</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Andrew Nugteren 3-25-1996</h4>
SD: 80325.1230<br>
Location: Starbase Epsilon<br>
Scene: Fleet Intelligence Office<br>
MD: 2.0300<br>
Captain Paul Paxwax, recently promoted Fleet Intelligence Officer for
Silver Fleet, took a deep sip of his steaming cup of coffee and then put it
down on his desk, pushing a few padds aside in the process. Paul had
nothing against readiness drills in general... in fact, thinking back to
when he had been CO of the USS FEYNMAN they had always featured postively in
his mind. But this time was an exception to the rule.
Vice-Admiral Azariah Nicholas, even more recently promoted than Paul
himself, had taken upon himself to test the Starbase's readiness to the very
limits. Paul had been up the past 20 hours working away on dummy
intelligence reports, whilst at the same time continuing to monitor all of
Silver Fleet's actual vessels as well. There were rumours coming in from
junior officers that the Vice-Admiral was planning to keep this constant
alert scenario going for at least another 36 hours. That meant a lot more
work and little, if any, sleep in the forseeable future.
Picking up the next padd on his pile, Paul scanned through the contents
at an appropriate speed to allow for frequent sips of coffee. This one was
from a new officer, Ensign Jarkahn, who had been monitoring the intelligence
sections relating to Furjen's petition to join the UFP. Paul always enjoyed
reading reports pertaining to the FEYNMAN and her missions, probably because
of his own attachement to her. A damn fine ship, and a damn fine crew to go
with her!
Back to the report, Paul noted that subspace traffic in the sector had
increased markedly in the past 36 hours. Of course, in the leadup to
planetary elections that was to be expected, but the increase this time
surpassed historical precedent. The officer had also noted a reported
sighting of a trading ship of the Ferengi Alliance peddling the sector in
the past week. Paul leant back in his chair, thinking about the run of
events. While neither events were unusual, together they created a tiny
inkling of trouble and while nothing conclusive at this stage, warning signs
that an adept intelligence officer would monitor. Any more such
coincidences would perhaps warrant a mention to the Admiral...
Respectfully submitted<br>
Captain Paul Paxwax<br>
<<NRPG>><br>
Just to let everyone know that our goings on and such have been picked up
back at the base by us bigwigs :) The political intrigue so far in this
mission has been more than just a tad interesting and is almost killing me!!
Andy: Loved the twist with the Commissioner now in the thick of things
as well <EG><br>
<pre style="background-color: #303030; color: #ccc7e1;">
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
| Ensign Jade Sr'qwon Chief Security Officer USS FEYNMAN                    |
| Captain Paul Paxwax Fleet Intelligence Officer SILVER FLEET              |
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
| Andrew Nugteren                                              Christchurch |
| Email: andrewn@southern.co.nz                                New Zealand |
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
</pre>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Anxious Anticipation</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Andrew Nugteren 3-25-1996</h4>
SD: 80325.2144<br>
Scene: Bridge<br>
MD: 2.0325<br>
>They watched as the ship came on screen. "Who is it?" asked Zane.<br>
><br>
>"Sir!" shouted Jenn. "Our escort has broken off and is heading toward the<br>
>oncoming ship. They are preparing to fire on it."<br>
"Mr. Jade, open a channel to the Furjen vessel and go to Red Alert," Zane
ordered.
"Channel open sir," Jade replied, accompanied in the background by the
wail of the red alert klaxon.
"Furjen vessel, this is Commander Zane, Captain of the USS FEYNMAN. You
will immediately hold your fire and break off pursuit."
Respectfully submitted<br>
Ensign Jade<br>
<<NRPG>><br>
Kristen: Yup... everyone is up I think!!!<br>
<pre style="background-color: #303030; color: #ccc7e1;">
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
| Ensign Jade Sr'qwon Chief Security Officer USS FEYNMAN                    |
| Captain Paul Paxwax Fleet Intelligence Officer SILVER FLEET              |
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
| Andrew Nugteren                                              Christchurch |
| Email: andrewn@southern.co.nz                                New Zealand |
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
</pre>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Let's Get Started</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 3-28-1996</h4>
SD 80328.0100 (GMT)<br>
MD 2.0530<br>
Bridge<br>
Maril surveyed the room, then said someting aside to Zane. Zane nodded in
agreement and Maril started:
"As you all know, most of us are traveling down to Furjen. The Captain has
agreed to remain on the ship. Ensigns Jade and Krazny, you will be beaming
down with the Commissioner to...assist him. Lieutenants Jenn, Fobok and Tok
will beam down to the planet to see the culture, the way of life, Furjen's
mountain to climb. Lastly, Lieutenants Koreth, Jerran, and myself are beaming
down to see almost the opposite things--science, military, technology, and
until the ocean ends. Does everyone understand?"
"Yes," was heard throughout the Bridge.
"Good. Continue with your duties, but everyone who is going down to the
planet should be in Transporter Room 3 by 0700 hours. If not, I may have to
assign you to be with the Commissioner," Maril said, smiling. Then, to Zane he
joked, "I have a feeling no one will be late to the beamdown."
MD 2.0700<br>
Transporter Room 3<br>
Everyone who was beaming down to the surface was there, except for
Commissioner Thessa. Finally, the short-tempered man appeared.
"Commander, what is this I hear? Two ensigns coming with me? This is an
outrage!" he yelled as he entered the transporter room. Seeing Maril, he said
nothing, just raised an eyebrow.
"Comissioner, I assure you these officers are of the highest quality...,"
Maril tried to calm him down.
"Uh-huh," was all the Commissioner said. "Energize." He and his party faded
away. Maril motioned for Lt. Jenn, Lt.<jg> Fobok, and Lt.<jg> Tok to step onto
the transporter pad. They too energized, though undoubtably to a different
place. Finally, Maril, Lt. Koreth, and Lt.<jg> Jerran beamed down to the
planet.
Selgo(suburb of Tinn), Furjen
The three officers rematerialized on a quiet street outside a rather large
complex. "If I may, sir, why are we here?" Jerran asked.
"This is one of the leading scientific institutes on Furjen, the North Furjen
University of Sciences. I suggest we go inside," Maril explained.
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer, USS Feynman,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
NRPG:<br>
All: Well, you all know where you're going(or you should.) So, what are yiu
waiting for? ;)<br>
Andy(Lone Watchman): Have fun! (Try not to leave us here on Furjen, though.)<br>
Jason, Joseph(Non-Culture): What's going to happen in there?<br>
Kristen, B.J., Lysle(Culture): Do whatever you want...within reason, of course.
:)<br>
Andrew, Charles(Stuck with the Comissioner): Cheer up. The BrOT(and command)
will be a breeze after being with this guy. And remember, no matter how much
you feel like killing him, you can't! :D
Lt. Cmdr. Onta Maril FO USS Feynman<br>
Ens. Siqor CEO USS Tesla<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Ummm, Let's Eat!</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 3-28-1996</h4>
Stardate: 80328.0319<br>
Scene: Market Square, City of Taung, Furjen<br>
MD: 2:0700<br>
Lt. Jenn watched the transporter room fade into a busy market square.
There were definite signs of a major festival that was in process.
“Where are we Lt.? This looks wonderful.” asked the doctor.
“This should be right up your alley, Dr. Tok. This is the Furjen Feast
of Fertility. It takes place for seven days. They actually celebrate the
festival all over the planet, but I was informed that the festivities in
Taung were the best. And since we’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves
as well, I wanted to start here.”
“A Fertility Festival, how exciting,” exclaimed Tok.
“Shall we be off then. I don’t know about you but I’m starving!” Jenn
headed out with the two following her. She stepped into the first eating
establishment she found.
A large woman approached them as they entered. She had a large smile on
her face, “Oh my, look here. I am so honored that you have chosen to
enjoy your meal here with us this morning. You are from the Federation,
right.”
Krysa nodded, smiling at the friendly woman, “Yes we are, thank you for
your kind welcome. I am Lt. Krysa Jenn, this is Lt. Fobok and this is
Dr. Tixx Tok.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you all. I am Malia Zolkche, owner of this
establishment. Please, this way. You can have our best table.” The
officers followed the woman to a table. Krysa found it hard to believe
that there was a free table in the place as it looked that every table
was full. But true to her word, the woman found them a nice table to sit
at.
“Would you care to join us?” Krysa asked. “I’d love to hear about your
restaurant and the festival.”
“Oh, I’d be so honored. Just a moment.” She turned, “Jasker, I’m going
to sit down with the Federation! Can you take over for me.” The little
man walked up with a big smile on his face.
“Of course, my dear. I’ll even be your server.” he leaned down and
kissed the woman on the cheek before turning to the Feynman officers.
“So what do you think you’d like to try this morning.”
“Whatever is custom.” said Krysa. “You house specialty would be fine. I
love to try new foods.”
“Bring us a little of everything,” said the hostess. She put her hand on
Krysa’s shoulder, “I don’t think this one eats enough... look how thin
she is.”
Tok about fell out of his chair laughing. Fobok was as close to laughing
as Krysa had ever seen him. She just smiled at the woman, “Don’t mind
them, they have no manners.” she turned her gaze on her two crewmates,
giving them a slight glare.
“Can you tell us a little bit about the festival, while we’re waiting?”
asked Krysa.
“Oh, it’s the biggest event here in Taung. The days are filled with food
and friendship. The nights are filled with matters of the heart. It is
extremely good luck to conceive your child during the festival.”
They continued to chat about the festival until Jasker brought them a
tray filled with some appetizing looking fare. Krysa tried a little of
everything and was pleased to report everything was delicious. Malia
commented on how much Krysa had eaten. “You are sure to plump up nicely
now!” she smiled.
Krysa returned her smile and nodded, though knowing that her metabolism
wouldn’t allow that to happen. She was glad of this, though she wouldn’t
tell Malia this. The woman was so happy that she had finally gotten the
small woman to start eating.
Regards,<br>
Lt. Krysa Jenn<br>
****<br>
NRPG: Did you really think Krysa would skip a change at a feast<VBG><br>
Kristen<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Where, Oh Where Has Our Science Officer Gone?</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 3-28-1996</h4>
Stardate: 80328.2043<br>
Scene: Malia’s restaurant<br>
MD: 2.1200<br>
Krysa had been having a splendid time. First such wonderful food and now
dancing. Two of her most favorite things in the world. She couldn’t
understand why the Commissioner was taking such a hard line with these
people.
Her dance partner was a middle-aged man named Logam. He was teaching her
some wonderful new steps. Tok seemed to be enjoying himself as well.
Malia definitely was. She looked around for Fobok but didn’t see him.
While she was thinking that maybe she had better locate him, Logam
twirled her in a new step.
“What was that?” she asked, laughing.
“Here, I’ll show you.” He did it again, this time a little more slowly.
Krysa followed and after a couple of practices, she was doing it like a
pro. “You’re very good,” the man told her.
“This is fun,” she said.
“So tell me, how many children to you have.” he asked her.
“Me?” asked Krysa, “Oh, I don’t have any children.”
The man frowned slightly, “Oh, I’m sorry. Well, no matter. Maybe after
spending some time at the fertility festival you will. Why I know a
woman who all the young women go to see, whether they are having
problems conceiving or not. She has many a conception to her belt!”
Krysa laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“If you like I could get you in special, cause she’s a friend of mine.
We want to make a good impression on the federation. Perhaps having one
of thier members conceive during our fertility festival would help.” The
man was grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh, .... well ... ummm ...” Krysa stuttered, a bit taken aback by his
suggestion. “We have slightly different customs where I come from.”
“Oh,” he said, “You don’t put great value on children?”
“We do. But in our culture people usually don’t have children unless it
is within the confines of a stable relationship between a man and a
woman. I am not in that position yet.”
“Our children are raised in stable homes as well. Who their biological
fathers are, isn’t the important part. It’s that they are loved by their
mothers and taken care of by all.”
“I think that’s a wonderful system, Logam.” Krysa smiled. The two
continued to dance as the morning turned into afternoon. Soon Malia was
begging the Feynman’s Operations Officer to eat again.
“Lot’s of food is good for conception!” she was telling the flustered
Lt. She was eating quite a bit as well while keeping her eye on the
squirming doctor.
Jasker, their server from earlier in the evening was smiling happily at
Malia. “She would know too. Our Malia has seven children!”
“That’s wonderful Malia. You know though, we are on an official
assignment from Starfleet ... and we ...” Krysa paused looking to Dr.
Tok for help.
“We need to continue our investigations,” Tok said happily, “Don’t we,
Lt. Fobok?” He turned to find the Vulcan still missing. Krysa also began
looking around. Concern growing on her face.
Regards,<br>
Lt. Krysa Jenn<br>
****<br>
NRPG: Okay so these people really, really like children<G> Now where do<br>
you suppose we will find our missing Science Officer?<br>
Kristen<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: More Science</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 3-30-1996</h4>
SD 80330.0300 (GMT)<br>
MD 2.0730<br>
North Furjen University of Sciences: Transwarp Physics<br>
"Here is where our transwarp experiments are done. It is our proudest
achievement. Come, look, Tenara said."
The three officers looked at and studied the interesting experiments. Jerran
was almost entranced by it all.
"Amazing," he sighed. "This is much faster than what we have."
Maril noticed a scientist approaching Tenara to ask a question. "Do I know
you?" Tenara asked. Maril could see why. The scientist didn't look exactly
like a Furjenian. Not too different, but a little.
"Of course. I work in the microbiology department." That river has been
crossed, Maril thought, relieved.
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer, USS Feynman,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
NRPG:<br>
All: I know it's short, but I'll add more sometime later. BTW, what ever<br>
happened to the big election at 0800 hours? FYI, the thing about the scientist<br>
that didn't look quite right was a reminder that the Manarkian operatives are<br>
*everywhere*. ;)<br>
Lt. Cmdr. Onta Maril FO USS Feynman<br>
Ens. Siqor CEO USS Tesla<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: In the Blue Stork Bar</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Charles Jencks 3-30-1996</h4>
SD 80330.0745 GMT (as always)... 80329.2345 PST (where I am)<br>
MD 3.0300<br>
With the 'commish' on Furjen... at the Blue Stork Bar<br>
Ensign Krazny had just watched the Commissioner down another 'Comute', as
one of the local drinks was called. Having limited himself to half a glass
of it, Krazny likened it to an old Earth drink called 'rum and Coke'.
Krazny had then decided not to get drunk, and was limiting himself to a
bubbly drink apparently reserved for children, called a 'Kaktovik', which
was clear and citrusy. Jade was sticking to water, and not much of it at
that, and both of them kept eyeing the crowd in the large bar. The far
wall was about twenty meters away, and within that space were at least one
hundred people. Suddenly, a bottle flew over the three Federation
personnel, and shattered the front plate glass window.
Jade put her hand on her holster, and Krazny grabbed the Commissioner.
"Sir, we'd better get out of here."
"No, no, I'm not nearly drunk enough to go back to the ship yet.
Bartender, another please. "
Jade stared at Krazny as he shook his head. "How are we supposed to
protect him if he doesn't listen?"
By now several dozen people were involved in the growing brawl behind
them, and Krazny shook the Commissioner. "Sir, we are leaving."
"Fine. Go."
"No, sir, we are *all* leaving." He physically lifted the Commissioner
from his stool and to his feet, not hard at his height. "Now."
Jade smiled, and began to push a path to the door. A fist flew and slammed
into the commissioner's face, knocking him half-unconscious. Krazny
groaned. "Now I'll have to carry him." The ensign hoisted the dazed
Commissioner to a position where he was slung over the counselor's
shoulder and the two officers headed out the door.
Just as they reached the street, so did the brawl. Now fully three hundred
people were involved, and it had spread into the glassware shop next
door... which had been closed. A glass crane (or something similar to that
Terran bird) flew out and smashed into the head of an arriving planetary
security officer, knocking him to the street.
Krazny now saw that it wasn't just a brawl, it was becoming a riot.
Hundreds of people were now in the street, looting, fighting, and now
burning, as they got to the corner, where a wide boulevard led in one
direction to the President's residence and in the other to the capital
building. Krazny and Jade headed for the capital.
On the way to the capital, they spotted many more rioters, and fires in
the distance lit the boulevard a faint orange. Then they spotted an empty
alley. "Think we should beam up?" Krazny said, still shuffling along with
the half-dazed, half-drunk Commissioner slung over his shoulder, with his
rank pip rubbing against the Commissioner's ribs.
NRPG: Too bad we can't kill him. And this riot might just be a
misunderstanding, or it could be that political upheaval beginning. MT
should be about 2.0300. or 3.0300, whichever... I lost track of which day
it is, but about the same as the last post from the Science Academy team.
BTW Krazny is 1.9 meters tall... so, quite a bit above average... maybe
six inches or so. And he's only 18.
<pre style="font-weight: bold; background-color: #303030; color: #ccc7e1;">
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
- Charles Jencks (jencksc@watnxt12.ucr.edu)                              -
-                                                                        -
- Student of History, Life, And All Things Remotely Star Trek!            -
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------ASR Charachter List---------------------------
- Ens Christophe Boulanger, USS MELBOURNE FCO, Blue Fleet                -
- Ens K'Zeka'Sl'V"Kia, USS GAUSS FCO, Blue Fleet                          -
- Ens Krazny Oktyabr, USS FEYNMAN CNS, Silver Fleet                      -
- Ens Jarin Edisrevir, USS LINCOLN CSO, Red Fleet                        -
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
</pre>
If you don't write it down, then it never happened.<br>
- Dr Caroline Ryan, MD, FACS<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Technology Now</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 3-30-1996</h4>
SD 80330.2000 (GMT)<br>
MD 2.1100<br>
Furjen Museum of Technology(Taung)<br>
Maril, Koreth, and Jerran walked along with the tourguide who was showing some
of Furjen's technological acheivements. They had left the NFUS about an hour
ago, and had proceeded to the museum.
"And here is an exhibit on our undersea technology," the tourguide, whose name
was Sonel, explained. "We have developed many habitats that function
at depths of more than five miles and we have explored all of our oceans except
for the very deepest part of the 9.6-mile-deep Getryono Depth. We even have
built three thriving, independent cities in the Axajn Ocean. Here's the next
exhibit...."
They continued on their tour, seeing the Furjen propulsion technology and
their sewer systems. Suddenly, Solen stopped abruptly. He said, for some
reason a little unsure, "This is our laser technology room. It needs to be dark
for better viewing of the lasers." The three walked in, unaware of what they
were walking into.
As Solen explained about the lasers, Maril felt something cold touch the side
of his head. Then someone whispered, "Move and you die."
Lt. Koreth, who was nearest to Maril, saw this action and kicked the phaser(for
that's what it was) out of the attacker's hand. Suddenly, there were attackers
swirling around the three officers. All of them knew how to defend themselves,
but there were at least three assailants for every officer. In the end, Maril,
Jerran, and Koreth found themselves with phasers pointed at them and nowhere to
run. The light came back on, and the three officers could see that there were
never lasers in that room. A man who was apparently the leader stepped
forward.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Maril asked, not wavering in his tone.
"Simple. We are Yintirego. Some call us an ultra-isolationist terrorist
group. We don't see ourselves that way. We just want things to stay the way
they were before all of these alien cultures dirtied us. And, we want the
Federation to deny Furjen membership. If thay accept Furjen, you three won't
live to see your ship again." The leader walked out of the room, followed by
the rest of those who had attacked them. Once they had all left, Lt. Koreth
immediately tried to open the door.
"It's no use. The seals on this door are so tight it would take days to break
through them," he observed grimly.
Maril tapped his communicator. "Maril to Feynman. Do you read? Feynman, come
in. The comm signals must be jammed too," the Tamarian lamented.
"Wait a minute," Jerran said. "Their tecnology is supposed to be about 100
years behind ours. There has to be some technology that they can't or didn't
stop."
Maril nodded. "Demel going back into the factory," he ordered as they started
to work.
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer, USS Feynman,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
NRPG:<br>
All: How's that for pressure? So now, we have a dillemna: do we accept Furjen and
kill the officers or deny Furjen and save the officers? Although I'm sure we'll
think of a solution which has nothing to do with either. :)
Jason, Joseph: How are we going to get out of this?
Lt. Cmdr. Onta Maril FO USS Feynman<br>
Ens. Siqor CEO USS Tesla<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Captain's Log</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 3-30-1996</h4>
SD:80330.1900<br>
MD3.0330<br>
Scene: Captain's Ready-Room<br>
--------------------------
Zane sat back in the comfortable low chair that faced the room's
window and gazed down at the planet below. With the entire senior staff,
save himself, gone it had been a completly relaxing day. Taking a sip of
his drink he savoured the quiet. The ship was in peak condition, the
crew was content and the away teams had all reported in that Furjen was
everything it had been reported to be. And, the commissioner was out of
his hair.
Placing the glass on the low table beside him he began his final
duty of the day...
"...Captain's Log stardate 80330.0330....
After a full day in orbit of the planet Furgen I am pleased to
announce that all is proceeding as hoped. Reports from all personnel
have painted the planet as an excellent prospect for Federation
membership.
Having been granted shore-leave for the entire crew by the
planetary government I am pleased to see all department heads taking them
up on their offer. However, I can't say I'm all that surprised that each
of them have decided to mix 'business with pleasure'. It seems that
while they are all enjoying themselves they are also appraising the
planet and its inhabitants.
Lt. Jenn's party seem to be having the most fun, at least what I
would consider enjoyable. They have attended one of the local festivals
and from what Kyrsa has told me the inhabitants are a warm, caring
bunch. While much of the festivities are steeped in in ancient custom
there may be some medicinal benefits to the rituals in much the same way
of the Vulcan's. I'm sure Starfleet Medical and Sociological teams would
find this of interest.
Lt.Cmdr Maril's party while claiming to be enjoying themselves
immensely have confined themselves to view some of the technological
achievements of the Furjen. While I can understand the interest to the
officers in question I'd have to say that my heart is in the festivals.
Perhaps when some of the senior staff return I may get a chance for a
quick visit.
As with the 'cultural brigade' Maril's party seem to have found
several items of interest. Of note is the Furjen foray into Transwarp
technology. Long abandoned by Starfleet as impractical, Lt. Koreth has
given me a brief outline of how the Furjen have managed to solve some of
the main problem's that plagued Captain Stiles and the old Excelisor
experiments. If the technology is half as promising as my CEO thinks the
Furjen may have a breakthrough on their hands. They have hinted that
they need a starship for further testing. I have forwarded the
information back to EPSILON along with the request that should the planet
gain addmission, and should the technology seem feasible, that the
FEYNMAN be allowed to return in aid of the final tests.
Finally, Ensigns Sr'Qwon and Krazny have the unenviable task of
escorting the commissioner around. As the offical ceremonies and
interviews do not begin until after the coming elections they are not
necessarily 'on business'. The commissioner has decided to experience
the Furjen nightlife and Onta has wisely detailed the CSO and CNS to
accompany him.
I was a little concerned to hear that they had found themselves
in the midst of a riot but am happy to report that they were neither the
cause nor the root. They maintained their professionalism in front of
such potential danger. I am also happy to relay Sr'qwon's preliminary
report as to how the local authorities contained the riot, which was
really just a bar-room brawl reminescent of EPSILON'S Wall. Local
militia units arrived quickly and dispersed the group with miminal force
using nothing more lethal than water-cannons.
Closer to home, the Ferengi vessel we encountered yesterday has
entered orbit. After receiving a standard customs inspection without
incident. The trading vessel began to download its cargo. It appears to
be fully loaded and after six hours it is still transporting its
freight. As expected the cargo is being received by one of our escorts
chief competitors. It seems that while they may be a little overzealous
they are firmly rooted in free enterprise.
<<<NRPG>>>
Hi all. Just fitting Zane into the overall scheme as well as providing
his views on what has transpired so far....
As the time for Maril to report in has not arrived Zane is still unaware
that something is amiss. Have fun!
You will be happy to know (or perhaps scared for me!) that I am offically
logged in as the FEYNMAN'S rep on the RT. So please light a candle on my
behalf! <EG>
If you are interested, and I hope you are, there is a section dealing
with the RT on the ASR webpage. Any questions or comments regarding the
RT please let me know.....
regards,<br>
Andy<br>
-CMDR Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-LT.CMDR Nigel Brock, Instructor, Holodeck 18<br>
-LT.CMDR Tarsa Rogers, Executive Officer, USS GAUSS<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Captain's Ready-Room</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 3-31-1996</h4>
> SD 80331.2030<br>
> MD 3.0400<br>
> Scene: Captain's Ready-room<br>
><br>
> "He'll probably have time for that. Look, the locals have asked us to<br>
> provide observers for the election. You'll be leaving for the main<br>
> ballot-counting facility in the capital city in six hours, two hours after<br>
> the polls open. The Commissioner has been asked for, so if he's in any<br>
> condition to leave Sickbay, he goes."<br>
>
> "Yes, sir."<br>
>
"Ah sir...." Ensign Sr'qwon seemed quite uncomfortable.
"Yes ensign?"
"I think there may be something going on with the planetary
election and well..."
Zane frowned. "Spit it out ensign."
"....Well sir, I think the commissioner may be involved."
Zane stood, his frown deepening. This was all he needed an
over-zealous CSO who was seeing conspiracy on the third day of his first
mission. "That's a very serious charge ensign. Are you aware of the
exemplary career of the commissioner?" Zane tried to keep the lecturing
tone out of his voice. "What do you base this on?"
The CSO with referral to the counselor told Zane of the terrorist
acts and the comissioner's reaction and then the rather surprising
conversation with the president.
Zane remained silent for a few moments considering the incident
Sr'qwon had just described. "Good work! I find it hard to believe
that something like this could involve the commissioner but I
agree with your suspicions." Zane paused. "And it explains the request
for election observers."
Returning to his chair he looked up to the two officers.
"Continue with your assignment of escorting the commissioner and do not
impede his actions in any way. Officially nothing changes but I want you
to keep this incident in the back of your mind."
> "I suggest you two get some rest. Be back here at 0800. You beam down at<br>
> 1000."<br>
><br>
<<<NRPG>>><br>
Just tying some threads...
ALL: Just to keep all the threads in line we'll say that 0800 is the<br>
designated time to report in so Max and Jenn I'll hear from your<br>
two parties (or not if your still lost) at that time and we can<br>
decide how to continue from there.<br>
Charles: Did you miss my last post and Andrew's?<br>
respectfully submitted,<br>
Andy
-CMDR Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-LT.CMDR Nigel Brock, Instructor, Holodeck 18<br>
-LT.CMDR Tarsa Rogers, Executive Officer, USS GAUSS<br>
MDailey
4,640

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