USS Feynman DEC 1996

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U.S.S. FEYNMAN NCC-66000
December 1996 Posts
FEYNMAN Shoulder Patch

TOTAL DECEMBER 1996 POSTS: 36


GRAND TOTAL POSTS: 720

Posts By Each Year



USS FEYNMAN: Moving On

by Andrew Catterick 12-1-1996

SD:81201.1100
MD:7.0930
Scene: Bridge

"Bring us around Mr. Jerran."

"Aye sir, coming to new course 245 mark 68."

"Tactical?"

"Most of the Reaver's defences are ground-based weapons. Seems to be a variation of a Romulan type disruptor. They also have a dozen or so small craft attacking the main Issahi fleet. Same configuration as the ship that destroyed SERAPIS but much smaller. Aproximately 15% larger than a standard Starfleet runabout. The Issahi have lost 4 ships but are beginning to overwhelm the base defences. Their troop transports are beginning their run."

"Any signal from the away team?"

"No sir." Jenn replied. "As expected the jamming from the base as well as the weapons fire are providing too much of an obstacle."

As the ship came around the small D-warp shuttle had come into view. It was slowly being pulled towards the base by a tractor beam. Zane thought of diverting to recover it but its path lay in the vicinity of some of the larger Reaver guns.

"Lt. Jenn can you scan the shuttle?" Zane asked hoping their closer proximity would allow the DELPHI to cut through the local interference.

"Yes sir, no lifeforms."

"Target a torpedo on that shuttle." the first officer ordered the TAC officer.

"Targeted."

"Fire!" Two seconds later the shuttle was expanding into a million pieces. The discharge ran down the tractor beam and caused minor damage to the base. The captain turned to Maril. "Did the away team know about the shuttle occupants before they left?"

"Yes. If they're alive Koreth and Allard will find them." Maril replied firmly.

"Captain we're clearing the jamming field." Jerran announced.

Zane continued his conversation with Maril. "But who the hell was on that shuttle?" As if by magic the answer came.

"Commander we're receiving a subsapce signal from EPSILON marked personnel."

Maril raised an eyebrow and turned to his display. "Transfer orders. An Ensign Landers our new CNS. Transfer for Ensign Lee to Starfleet Diplomatic Corp approved, effective immediately. She is to form a small group of FEYNMAN personnel and remain behind as a Federation envoy to Issah until an ambassador arives. End message."

Both Captain and first officer turned to face the CNS. "You requested a transfer Mr. Lee?" Maril asked. All transfer requests were to go through him.

"Uh no sir, I mean yes sir. What I mean is I requested a transfer to the Diplomatic Corp before I was assigned to the FEYNMAN. When I received my orders I assumed that the request had been denied. I am as surprised as you."

"Well Mr. Lee, it seems you have a job ahead of you I'd suggest you start developing your team." He rose as she did. "Good luck, you'll be missed."

<<<NRPG>>>

Donna, I know you wanted to write your exit but as is standard on the FEYNMAN things are moving too fast so now your character will be the diplomatic envoy to Issah untill you reactivate her (I hope you do) Good luck and I hope you get a handle on RL soon.

All:Please remove Donna from your mailing lists.

Sorry its been awhile since I posted but we're approaching the deadline at work and to call it complete and utter chaos would be an understatement. Things should settle down in a week or so but to play it safe lets call it two. But I will be avaiable daily for NRPG stuff so any questions/problems/dilemma's let me know and you'll have an answer with 24 hours or your money back.

Ok, Jason, Mike and Melanie? you've got a shuttle, a lost CNS and pilot and a possible attack against the FEYNMAN to play with ...have fun.

For us on the ship...who knows? Luckily we have the ytterbium defence as it s not foolproof lets hope they don't get too many shots.

Respectfully,
Andy

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commodore Nigel Straun, Executive Officer, INDIGO FLEET
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET

USS FEYNMAN: Into the Lions' Den PT-2

by Michael "Mike" Dailey 12-1-1996

SD - 81201.1530
MD - 7.0845
SCENE: USS FEYNMAN - Deck 14, Cargo Transporter Room [before beam-down]

SCPO Alex Tamarov entered the large cargo transporter room, the only one onboard the FEYNMAN capable of transporting large numbers of personnel at once. The doors to the cargo deck mechanically 'clanked' shut behind him, and the ACSO saw the seven members of ALPHA security squad, each with their duralloy helmets and vests. In addition to the MARK-6 sidearm, each person carried one of the new 'modified' MARK-7 rifles that Lt. Koreth's team had augmented with a standard tricorder, wiped of any Starfleet or Federation data.

Standing by the console, LTjg. Justin Allard and CPO T'Boc were working on a defective helmet. Alex walked over to his CO,

"Good morning, Sir.", said Alex to his CO. He turned to the Vulcan NCO, "you too, Mr. T'Boc." They exchanged greetings. "Is everyone almost ready?" asked the ACSO.

"T'Boc was having trouble with his helmet's communicator", said J.C. "T'Boc, we're not going to mess around with mechanical problems. Call security and have one of the Cadets bring down another helmet from the Armory. We'll send this one to Maintenance when we return.", said J.C.

"Aye, aye Lt." said T'Boc. Grabbing the helmet, he went over to the console to request the new helmet. J.C. turned to Alex.

"You're in command while I'm gone, Alex. Keep everyone alert, patrol teams in two's as long as we stay at Yellow Alert. And if the Captain calls Red Alert, I want one team on the bridge and in Engineering for the duration. Understood?", said J.C., all serious now.

Alex nodded, "Aye, Sir. And good luck to all of you." He said, addressing the entire Alpha Squad. Various 'Thank you Sirs' echoed to the Senior security NCO. All turned to face the doors as they clanked open for Lt. Koreth and his Engineering team.

They walked in to find they were the last to arrive.

"Glad to see you finally showed up." said Allard with a bit of a grin. "Thought I might have had to command this task force all by myself." Alex directed the Engineering personnel to the nearby table with their helmets, vests, side arms, and new rifles, though Ens. Dunnon and Lt. Koreth were already 'suited-up'.

Lt. Koreth grabbed one of the rifles, "And let you play with my new toys unsupervised? I don't think so 'junior'."

J.C. smiled, and jabbed the Lt., lightly of course, with the butt of his rifle. "I wouldn't let you claim all of the fun for yourself. Anyway, someone has to keep an eye on you."

Though he had met a few Klingon Cadets during his days at the Academy, J.C. had not worked or trained with any. Once posted to the FEYNMAN, the CSO was not sure how to regard the Klingon Engineer. Over the last six months, they had mutual respect for each other, and had started to become friends.

Everyone had finished gearing up, J.C. and Koreth walked to the center of the 16-man away team. Allard cleared his throat slightly, and barked "ATTENTION ON DECK!", everyone stood at attention, but Koreth turned to regard the CSO. Only a few standard years younger than the CEO, J.C.'s order had came out a bit tame, compared to Klingon standards, of course. Koreth continued....

"You've already been briefed. You know what's expected of each one of you. But remember, we're a team. If you need help, let someone know. Everyone will move in teams of two. Our priorities are the elimination of any Starfleet or Federation data we may find, and locating the shuttle." said the CEO. He nodded to J.C. for his input.

Allard turned to the team, "Weapons check, everyone. Both side arms and rifles. Acknowledge by helmet comm, so we can test them also." After 14 confirmations, everyone was ready.

"OK, everyone", said Allard "Starfleet today is not like the horror stories of 100 years ago. Engineering and Security personnel DO NOT have targets painted on our backs." The entire away team let out a small round of laughs as J.C. tried to lower the tension a bit. "Keep yourself focused on what you're doing. No one is ever expendable." J.C. eyed Koreth briefly. He had not lost anyone under his command to combat, and did not think the CEO had either. They didn't want to start now.

"All right, everyone up. Circle formation, weapons out. If you perceive something as a threat do not hesitate to protect yourselves." He knew that the speech wasn't necessary, but gave it anyway.

<Bridge to transporter room,> It was Cmdr Maril <Beam down the landing party, and may Kazanti quench the flames of Azule.>

*** SNIP ***

Allard kept track of the bio-readings... which started bothering him quite a bit. "Hold up here."

"What is it?"

"Something strange is going on. " said the SEC officer who continued to explain, "Three times now I've picked up bio readings, of at least 6 separate creatures in each group, and each time we've gotten within 50 meters they suddenly veer off... away from our location."

"Avoiding confrontation on your own base during a raid? Some thing is not right." announced Koreth.

J.C. turned to T'Boc, the strongest Telepath onboard the FEYNMAN. "Mr. T'Boc, any impressions from you?". Through his helmet, the NCO took on a blank look, as though staring at something beyond the normal visual spectrum. Seeing the look on the Vulcan's face, Lt. Koreth said, "Mr. T'Boc, are you OK."

T'Boc snapped out of whatever had occupied his thoughts for those few seconds. "It was as your scans said, Sir. The thoughts of various, and multiple unknown life forms. Extreme force of anger and hatred, and then vanish as we near them. I am at a loss to explain, Sirs." said the Vulcan security NCO.

Submitted,
Mike Dailey
Splatter2@qtm.net
Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O - USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL - SILVER FLEET

=======
= NRPG =
=======

- Jason... I back-posted a bit to add a little to the pre-beam down stuff. From there, I just went a little further. I'm not sure what you had in mind with the sticky floors, changing walls, etc. If we run into life-sized killer bee's, my team's outta here <G>. Maybe we can utilize T'Boc some more.

- Melanie... we miss you! Jump in anytime, or back-post a bit and write yourself into our group.


Cheers all!
Mike

USS FEYNMAN: Slaughter Time

by Kevin Thigpen 12-2-1996

Stardate: 81202.2300
Scene: Reaver Base
MD: 7.1000

Loren had summoned up a lot of anger as he approached the wall, the Reavers not too far behind, and he had gone through the wall. He saw the Starfleet uniforms, so he thought that there was no trouble from that corner. "They're after me!" Despite the surprise the whole group had received upon Loren coming through the wall, Allard and his officers quickly raised their rifles both towards the wall and down the corridors.
-----------------------------------------------------------

Allard's rifle was pointed at the nearest wall, but he was still surprised when his tricorder suddenly registered movement directly in front of him. He was equally surprised when a hand reached from the solid wall and grabbed his rifle.

The next thing that happened didn't surprise the security officer at all, but it did probably suprise whoever was on the end of his barrel as an energy burst shot forth.

More of the walls or doors opened up to spill the figures of Reavers out onto the away team.

[NRPG: Not going to have all the fun myself. Insert your favorite battle scenario here guys.]

While blasts echoed around him, Loren ducked for cover as he had no weapon. He saw the figure of a Reaver begin to come through a nearby wall. The rest of the away team was busy firing on other forms emerging from all around them.

As the Reaver figure began to emerge in front of him, an idea formed in Loren's mind. He began to concentrate, using his mental abilities to project certain feelings at the rapidly expanding opening...in the hopes of closing it before the Reaver could step through.

The opening grew but slowed abruptly and then snapped shut. Half of the Reaver's body lay on the 'outside' of the would be opening while the other half remained on the other side. Loren smiled to himself as he attempted to enlist the aide of the telepath who called him to make use of this newfound weapon.

Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
USS FEYNMAN CNS

[NRPG: Had to add a little bit. I just felt like I should even the odds a little... :) . You can pass through the walls now Melanie. Now could somebody spare a phaser???

USS FEYNMAN: Additions

by Jason Bostjancic 12-2-1996

Stardate: 81202.2300
Scene: Reaver Base
MD: 7.1000

Loren had summoned up a lot of anger as he approached the wall, the Reavers not too far behind, and he had gone through the wall. He saw the Starfleet uniforms, so he thought that there was no trouble from that corner. "They're after me!"

Despite the surprise the whole group had received upon Loren coming through the wall, Allard and his officers quickly raised their rifles both towards the wall and down the corridors.

Tarrant stared at the new arrival, trying to quickly size up the newcomer. This was just too strange to be true. But his tricorder registered the haggard individual who just came through the wall as a betazoid. It would have to be enough for the time being.

Allard's rifle was pointed at the nearest wall, but he was still surprised when his tricorder suddenly registered movement directly in front of him. He was equally surprised when a hand reached from the solid wall and grabbed his rifle.

More of the walls or doors opened up to spill the figures of Reavers out onto the away team.

The CEO's mind had a second to register what the attackers looked like. Definitely insectoid - mores specifically arachnid. four 'legs' , each about twice the size of a normal humanoids, extended from the oval shaped body. A strong exoskeleton seemed to protect the body and 'head' section. The tips of the legs came to sharp points, which Tarrant noted, seemed to form a kind of puddle on the alien floor when they touched. It explained the need for the grippy floor.

It took but a moment to observe the enemy, and in the same breath the partial Klingon fired. The blast struck it's target mid-high on an attacker's body. It flew back into the wall which puddled around it. Suddenly another came through.. then another.

Tarrant tried to get a clear shot, but the corridor was too small with all the current occupants to get a good shot off. Despite that, the rest of the team fired on. J.C. was careful of his shots... but very effective. The Betazoid newcomer's face was in deep concentration as one of of the reavers became split from a closing wall.

The arachnid's were attacking using their pointed appendages. Rearing up on the two back legs, they would wrap the upper legs around a victim or attempt to pierce them.

"Here!" shouted Tarrant as he tossed the Rifle over to Loren.

A reaver approached their position, as Loren grabbed the rifle. Then suddenly it's advance was stopped by the loss of a limb. The Feynman's CEO held his Katana as yellowish fluid dripped from the blade. With quickness surprising for his size, Tarrant entered the melee.

  • NRPG*

Sorry, but I had to give our enemy a physical form. Figured they'd look something like the 'Shadows' from Babylon 5 for those who are familiar.. but with a few changes.

Respectfully,
Jason

Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN

Potest esse nur unus

USS FEYNMAN: News of an Old Friend

by Kristen Gant 12-4-1996

Stardate: 81204.2348
Scene: Bridge
MD: 7.1100

Zane was sitting in the Command chair, his thoughts focused on what was going on down on that base. Since the earlier attack, things had remained quiet. But everyone was tense and prepared for the worst. As Zane contemplated, he was interrupted by the voice of Lt. Jenn.

"Captain, you have an urgent message from Starfleet Command. They are requesting a private channel." She said looking up from Ops, and toward the Captain. She couldn't help but be a little curious. Urgent messages from Starfleet Command were not the that common, particularly at the middle of a mission like this.

"Now? In the middle of our mission?" Zane frowned. He really needed to be concentrating on other things. However, Starfleet could not be put on hold. "I'll take it in my ready room."

He stood and headed off to the side of the bridge toward his ready room. Krysa watched him go, smiling as she thought perhaps she was far to nosy for her own good. At least it seemed to ease some of the tension on the bridge as many were wondering about the message as she was. Looking over at Jerran she knew he was thinking something similar, despite his almost constant mind block.

Zane took a seat and tapped his screen to open the communiqué. A tall dark-skinned man appeared on the screen. His dark hair was slightly graying and his dark eyes portrayed a seriousness that did little to set Zane's mind at ease.

<Captain Zane, I am Commodore Reese, Head of Theta VI UFP Prison Colony.>

Zane's eyes narrowed. That was the prison facility holding Dee. He wondered what could possibly be so important that they were interrupting an important mission. "What can I do for you Commodore."

<It is my understanding that you had contact with a prisoner of ours a short while ago. A prisoner known as *Dee*.> the commodore said.

Zane groaned. He'd really hoped never to hear that name again. "I'm sure her exploits with the FEYNMAN are in her file, Commodore. Other then when I escorted her off my ship, I haven't spoken directly to her. Though I did receive a recorded message from her, but that's the last contact we've had."

<Have you heard anything from her within the last 48 hours?> the Commodore asked.

"No, I have not." Zane answered not liking the sound of this. "Not since the recorded message when she first arrived at your facility, several days ago.. What's going on, Commodore?"

<She's escaped. With no clues as to how she did it. We have reason to believe she may contact you. I am hoping we can count on you to let us know if you hear anything from her?>

"Of course," nodded Zane. He couldn't believe that a Starfleet High Security prison facility couldn't keep her for longer the a couple of days. Then again, she did have friends .. he shook away the thought and continued, "Though I don't know why she would contact me."

<I'll be frank with you, Captain, we know what was in the recorded message she sent you. We figure she may still try and collect on whatever she was holding over you.> The Commodore frowned at Zane, <After all it did get her off your ship without being handed over to the authorities, despite her crimes.>

The Captain didn't like the man's innuendo, "I assure you, Commodore, at this time there is nothing she holds that will have any bearing on me," he said vehemently.

<I hope that's the case, Captain.> he said pointedly, <But none the less, if she does contact you ...>

"I will let you know, sir." Zane said finishing the older gentleman's thoughts for him.

<Very well, I will be in contact with you again, Captain. Reese out.>

Zane sat staring at the UFP logo on the screen, wondering how he was going to tell Krysa about this.

Scene: Bridge

Everyone turned to watch the Captain as he exited his ready room, each waiting for some clue as to what the message had been about. However they didn't have time to ponder the question long as a light started flashing on Krysa's console, "Captain. A small vessel has just left the Reaver Base."

"What is it?"

"Trying to get a scan on it now," she replied.

"It's the shuttlepod, sir." Said Jerran incredulously.

"Confirmed," said Jenn, as though there could have been any doubt that Jerran would recognize the shuttlepod's signature. "Sir, it's heading away from the base at it's top speed. And away from us."

They all turned to the Captain to await his next orders.

Regards,
Lt. Krysa Jenn
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN


NRPG: Okay here is a rework of my last post, along with a little something
added. Sorry I'm not more creative lately :{

Kristen
--
Kristen & Scott Gant
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm

USS FEYNMAN: Coming Up to Speed

by Jason Bostjancic 12-6-1996

SD: 81206
MD: 7.1030
Scene: Reaver Base

Thanks to Loren, the away team began to finally get somewhere inside the Reaver base. It was difficult at first to actually focus something as uncontrollable as anger toward an object, much less at a wall. After a few times though they seemed to get the hang of it. Unfortunately, Meleah was unable to 'open' a door, so Ens. Landers became the gentlemanly figure and did so for her.

Lt. Koreth had taken a quick look at Meleah's arm, even though she stated that, " It would be highly improbable that you could do anything to fix considering the variables Lieutenant."

A few components he recognized, but most he did not. Finally, he had to agree with Meleah's prognosis.

After traveling through a multitude of rooms which seemed to be quite bare, they came to a wall which was only part honeycombed - the rest appeared to be of known metals. Further they couldn't pass through the section. Further on they found something even more strange... a door. A real door, with strange etching's above it.

"What do you make of it Koreth?" asked Allard, keeping his team facing the open walls.

"I'm not sure. The walls are made of a Tungsten-Tritanium Alloy. According to my scans they are also suffering from fatigue evident with extreme age." Tarrant continued his scans as did the remaining engineering part of the team.

Allard looked back for a moment, "I couldn't even get a single reading from any of the other 'Reaver' walls."

Meleah had already figured the answer, "That is because these are more than likely not built by the Reavers. It seems that this base has been taken over by the Reavers who are adapting it."

"It would explain the partial honeycomb we found a few rooms back," noted Tarrant. He started looking at the symbols above the door. "I'm not familiar with these markings."

Meleah came over and took a look. The markings were not of any modern language, but appeared to have elements of the old Vulcan texts... Within a second her database had found it.

"It is what appears to be the beginning of the Romulan language. Circa. around the time of the Great Schism. This sign says 'food'."

Tarrant scanned behind the door. There were a few tables and chairs. No electronics or power readings though. "So this base was originally created during the Vulcan's Schism. And the Reavers just happened upon it after all these years."

J.C. shook his head, "Perhaps they didn't just wander into it Tarrant."

A beeping from Ens. Dunnon's tricorder brought them all back to attention. "Sirs, picking up another Reaver group. Eight in total and heading this way."

"Time to leave," said Allard, "direction?"

Meleah pointed toward the opposite wall. "That way."

............ MD: 1045

They had come upon two other groups of Reavers. Each were fewer in number than was present during the first encounter, and the team quickly subdued their foes, but not without a few casualties. The team's number was down to 7. And, unfortunately the communications block out continued.

The last battle occurred in a room which was far different than that of the previous ones. The honeycomb patterns were larger here, and the light behind each was different. Walls continued upwards about two stories.

"What do you make of it Meleah?" asked the CEO - observably frustrated at his tricorder.

"Unknown."

Allard was also looking a bit frustrated. "We have to find that shuttle, time is running out... I suggest we continue."

"That would be unwise Lieutenant. " said Meleah matter of factly, "This is the first break we have found in the Reaver part of this base. We need to try and understand it to avoid continuing blindly from one room to the next." ..... It was actually Loren who found the answer.. by trying a hunch. He focused all his thoughts on the word 'why' and projected it.

A few of the honeycombs slid out of the wall, bearing controls. Further, a section of wall seemed to change, and an image of some type of large terminal screen appeared. Symbols flashed across it.

"What in the?..." said Dunnon who involuntarily trained his rifle on the screen. Allard quickly brought the engineer's weapon down.

Ens. Landers explained, "The Reavers seem to project an emotion to open the doors. I tried projecting the question why... not so much as a word but as a feeling of curiosity. I seems to have worked."

Tarrant scanned the screen and came up with a revelation as quickly as did Meleah, "These symbols form crude molecular patterns. Just like those we intercepted."

The science officer confirmed.

They had a way in.

............ <NRPG>

Yes, It rambles a bit. I tried to link in a few of the FEYNMAN's finds with that of the away team. More importantly I tried to bring us somewhere closer up to 'date' so the ship can actually do something.

If some one would post in the next batch something that indicates the Shuttle taking off then we'll be up to speed.

Respectfully, Jason

Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN

Potest esse nur unus

USS FEYNMAN:We're Outta Here

by Jason Bostjancic 12-7-1996

SD: 81207
MD: 7.1057

"Regardless," said J.C. "were still somewhere on the base, and only three minutes to go. I can't tell if were far enough away from the power source." said the CSO, checking his tricorder.

The lighting here was dimmed. Power direction to the older parts of the base seemed to be a lot less than was originally required.

Tarrant began scanning also. "Our tricorders are able to penetrate these walls. Adjusting for maximum distance." The effects of the Dimensional Transport were slow to wear off, and the partial kilingon had to refocus his eyes a few times.

"Which probably means were closer to the edge of the base." said J.C. He appeared to be having similar difficulties.

Meleah quickly added, "Or further within the base." It was a thought none of them relished.

"Adjusting.. we have an estimated two minutes, thirty seconds until that power overload." interrupted Dunnon. He was looking a bit strained.

"Lt. Koreth, I'm picking up something.. it appears to be a warp signature.." J.C. motioned toward a one of two doors out of the room. "This direction"

Tarrant picked it up, "Got it.. yep that's one of ours. Definitely from a shuttlepod.- Let's move."

The remaining 7 rushed to the door to find it jammed. The locking mechanism and low power actually being sent to the older sections of the base didn't help matters. However, Meleah seemed to have little trouble persuading it to open.

"Two minutes!" shouted Dunnon in between breaths as they raced towards the signature.

60meters - 40meters - 20meters.

The hallway opened up ahead of them through which came the unmistakable blue glow from a warp nacelle. The away team arrived just in enough time to see the shuttlepod exit through a forcefield into space.

All of them began looking around for a second means of exit. The room was definitely an old shuttlebay. Pieces of ancient ships lay strew about. As did a few pieces of more modern equipment - like the forcefield. One of the walls showed the beginning signs of reaver replacement.

"None of these vehicles are space worthy." Noted Lt. Meleah as she scanned about.

Tarrant had an idea - question would be how much time did they have. "Everyone! Scan for working lifepods in these ships. If you find one get in - use your rifle power packs to re-power the life-support!"

Suddenly an explosion from somewhere within rocked the base. Sending a chain reaction running slowly through. Lights flickered and the forcefield flashed.

With precious-little time remaining, the team entered the last operational escape-pods from what looked like the remains of an old Vulcan freighter. His pod was, like the others, devoid of power, but would still seal itself from the effects of space.

Then, as a power spike hit the equipment, the forcefield failed, and pulled everything within the shuttle-bay out due to the change in pressure. A second later the explosion reached the room.

Tarrant felt the force as his freighter section was blasted out of the bay. He was locked in securely against the vacuum of space - but had little oxygen.

Yanking the power supply out of his rifle, the CEO tried quickly to get it compatible with the pod. With a few 'modifications' he managed to crosswire the tricorder-pod- and power pack. As he did, the escape pod shot out from it's confines of the scrap.

All Tarrant could do now was wait for the FEYNMAN and prey that the others were successful.

"Tarrant to Feynman... "

Respectfully,
Jason

Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN

Potest esse nur unus

USS FEYNMAN: Reunion

by Andrew Catterick 12-8-1996

SD: 81208.1300
MD: 7.1100
Scene: Bridge

"Captain we're reading strange power buildups inside the Reaver base."

"Can you be more specific?" Zane asked leaning forward in his seat.

"No sir, interference is too high. Just a power buildup and it looks like a big one."

The Captain spun around in his seat to face the tactical station. "What's the status of the Issahi?"

"Fleet wide heavy damage but for the most part they have survived intact. Remaining Reaver opposition is sporadic and weak. Most of the Issahi troop carriers reached the asteroid. Estimate 2000 soldiers."

"Captain, I'm receiving a priority call for you, Class I."

Zane stared back in disbelief. They were sitting on the edge of a huge battle and had an away team on an 'enemy' base in what could easily be deemed as an act of war. First a new recruit pops into the middle of it, then the ship receives transfer orders and now Zane was getting a priority call. His first thought was to tell the officer to 'lose' the transmission, he had more more important things to worry about. But Class I? Not a good thing to ignore. "I'll take it in my ready-room." He gestured towards Maril as he rose from his seat and the two exchanged smiles of disbelief. Only on the FEYNMAN.

<<<NRPG: Insert Kris' post here>>>

Everyone turned to watch the Captain as he exited his ready room, each waiting for some clue as to what the message had been about. However they didn't have time to ponder the question long as a light started flashing on Krysa's console, "Captain. A small vessel has just left the Reaver Base."

"What is it?"

"Trying to get a scan on it now," she replied.

"It's the shuttlepod, sir." Said Jerran incredulously.

"Confirmed," said Jenn, as though there could have been any doubt that Jerran would recognize the shuttlepod's signature. "Sir, it's heading away from the base at it's top speed. And away from us."

They all turned to the Captain to await his next orders.

"Lifeforms?" Maril asked.

"Still too much interference. The power fluctuations on the base are off the dial. Showing internal explosions. Some of the Issahi landing craft are departing."

"Looks like the Issai accomplished their mission." But what about the away team was the unasked question, everyone hoping that they would be the shuttle occupants. "Helm intercept the shuttle."

"Aye sir." Jerran replied as he entered the necessary commands into his board. Seconds later the result was almost anticlimatic as the ship received the calm voice of her CEO.

[Tarrant to FEYNMAN...]

"Mr. Koreth," Zane replied with a smile. "Your timing is as impeccable as always."

[Well we had some motivation sir.]

"I can see that. Your motivation should totally engulf the base in about 45 more seconds. Mission results?"

[Shuttle recovered, computer files eradicated and one new CNS found. The pilot didn't make it. We will dock with you in 36 seconds.] There was a slight pause. [We witnessed some very interesting things.]

"Good work to you and your team Lieutenant. I look forward to reading your reports. Please pass along my welcome to Ensign Landers. FEYNMAN out."

"Captain the Issahi fleet is warping out. The asteroid has only a few seconds left." The TAC announced.

"Mr. Jerran the second the away team lands...."

"Like a bat out of hell sir." The FCO replied with a smile.

"Thank you Mr. Jerran." Zane sat back in his chair, the pride in his team beginning to wash over him.

<<<NRPG>>>

Hi all! Yep still out there.

Looks like this is the winding down point. All we've got left now is to drop of the diplomatic team staying behind on Issahi and return the Tear of the prophet and then broach the idea of letting us keep it. Its up to you all as to how indepth you'd like to go into that before we head back to EPSILON. I'm fairly easy either way. But as long as it is not prolonged overmuch. I'd like to be back in port this time next week at the latest so we can figure out what will happen over the holidays...

...which brings me to the question, what is your availability like over the holidays? Please let me know if you have access or not over Xmas and if not for how long you'll be out. The sooner the better as this will reflect on our next mission. If enough of you won't have access we may have a mini-adventure with out the ship or something along those lines.

Respectfully,
Andy

USS FEYNMAN: We Have More to Discuss

by Kristen Gant 12-9-1996

Stardate: 81209.1039
Scene: Bridge
MD: 7.1115

They all turned to the Captain to await his next orders.

"Lifeforms?" Maril asked.

"Still too much interference. The power fluctuations on the base are off the dial. Showing internal explosions. Some of the Issahi landing craft are departing."

"Looks like the Issai accomplished their mission." But what about the away team was the unasked question, everyone hoping that they would be the shuttle occupants. "Helm intercept the shuttle."

"Aye sir." Jerran replied as he entered the necessary commands into his board. Seconds later the result was almost anti-climatic as the ship received the calm voice of her CEO.

[Tarrant to FEYNMAN...]

"Mr. Koreth," Zane replied with a smile. "Your timing is as impeccable as always."

"Sir," cried Jenn. "That signal is not coming from the shuttlepod."

"Are you sure?" Zane asked, "Mr. Koreth, where are you!"

[Lifepod, sir.]

Zane moved quickly down to stand behind Krysa who was frantically searching for Lifepods. "Got 'em!" she cried triumphantly. "Four for sure.. wait I think that's another one."

"Mr. Jerran abandon the pod and get those lifeboats! That base will be engulfed in about 45 more seconds."

As Jerran maneuvered the FEYNMAN toward the lifepods and tractored them in, Koreth filled the Captain in on their mission.

[We lost the Shuttlepod, but found one new CNS and we were able to eradicate the computer files. The pilot that came with Ensign Landers didn't make it.] There was a slight pause. [We witnessed some very interesting things.]

"Good work to you and your team lieutenant. I look forward to reading your reports. Please pass along my welcome to Ensign Landers. FEYNMAN out."

"Captain the Issahi fleet is warping out. The asteroid has only a few seconds left." The TAC announced.

"Mr. Jerran the second you have all the lifepods...."

"Like a bat out of hell sir." The FCO replied with a smile.

"Thank you Mr. Jerran." Zane sat back in his chair, the pride in his team beginning to wash over him.

MD: 7.1300

"Sir, we are being hailed by First Counsel Krazich." Said Jenn as Lt. Jerran settled the FEYNMAN into orbit.

"Put him on, Lt."

The Saurians face filled the screen. Martin Ross could be seen standing a short distance behind him. [Captain Zane. We have unfinished business.]

"Yes we do, First Counsel. I request that we meet to discuss it. Perhaps on the FEYNMAN this time."

[That will be acceptable. I will beam up in one of your hours.]

Krysa noted the tension coming from Mr. Ross. However, that was nothing new coming from the human man who had lived with these Saurians all his life.

"I look forward to it." Zane said diplomatically. As the screen faded, he turned to Jerran, "Mr. Jerran, I would like you to be there when they arrive, with the Tear. Do you think you can be on your best behavior?"

Regards,
Lt. Krysa Jenn


NRPG: Just made some minor changes to Andy's post. You all know how I hate
to throw out anything :} Hope this works for everyone ..

Kristen
--
Kristen & Scott Gant
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm

USS FEYNMAN: A Firm Maybe

by Andrew Catterick 12-11-1996

SD: 81211.0930
MD: 7.1500
Scene: Observation Lounge

"Is this a threat, Captain?"

"No, sir. I am just stating that I do not think that I could send in a recommendation to the Federation Council for a planet which deliberately harbors such a device, which if unintentionally allowed to fall into enemy hands could be perverted into a most devestating weapon. In the hands of the Reavers, this Orb could be more dangerous to the galaxy than either the Borg or the Dominion ever were. And, if those two factions, not to mention the Romulans, the Cardassians, the Klingons, Tholians, or a long list of other interstellar villains ever got wind of this, there would be no stopping them. So, sir. Again, I avail upon your wisdom as the most benevolant ruler of Issah to consider our request and our reasoning in this matter."

The First Minister remained quiet for a few moments, deep in thought, before answering. "I would very much like to return it to you Captain. But it is not my decision, it is the decision of the Issahi people."

"The people you lead, the ones you speak for." Zane replied.

"Captain do you know what would happen to me if I returned this to you right now. The people would throw me out of office. They might even condemn me as a traitor." He stood from his seat and moved towards one of the rooms windows to look down on his world. "We have just won a tremendous victory both physically and spiritually. My commanders and I know how your technology made it possible. Without your help we would certainly have been defeated. But all the people will see was brave Issahi warriors overrunning an enemy base while a Federation warship watched in relative safety. We died and you did nothing."

Krazich raised a claw to forestall Jerran's angry rebuke. "It is all perception true, but that is politics and if I am to remain in power it is a game I must play. And if you want an ally then your only hope is that I remain in power."

"I understand what you are saying First Minister but do you understand what is at stake? Refusing us the Tear could hold up debate in the Federation Council for months. If you are to survive you need our help now."

"That is true but you are in the same position. If you do not help us then you will not survive either. It may take some time but the Reavers will come for you. We must make a stand here or else fall divided. Tell that to your council." Krazich smiled at the Captain, knowing he had won this round. "But I am afraid I must leave you now. The heroes of the battle must be welcomed home."

Zane and Jerran stood. "Lieutenant return to you post. Once the First Council has beamed down break orbit and head for EPSILON warp 8."

"Aye sir." Jerran turned to Krazich. "Peace and long life sir."

"And to you Lieutenant. Thank you for everything you have done."

______________________________
Scene: Transporter Room

"Don't worry captain, your Bajorans will soon have their tear and its secrets will remain with me. Its power will not be abused."

"Energize." As Zane watched Krazich faded into nothingness and a chill ran up his spine. He did not believe him.

<<<NRPG>>>

And so comes the end of an interesting mission. Thanks to all of you for your usual great writing and ideas as well as your patience with my periodic posting (I hope I win the lottery tonight).

For now we're on our way home so we'll have a couple of days to interact and unwind as well as allowing our characters to meet the new CNS as well as reflect on this past mission.

Can you please forward along any mission ideas and briefing scenarios so Mike and I can get the ball rolling on our next adventure.

Kevin: We come up with missions by having the crew submit ideas to me. I add comments and ideas and then forward it along to Mike Dawe (CINCSILVER) who then formulates a mission based on our suggestions, whats going on in the fleet and his own ideas.

Also, we have a tradition on the FEYNMAN to hold our pre-mission briefing on the holodeck in some exotic locale. So far, venues have included, the Great Pyramid, Ancient Rome and an underwater cavern. So if you have an idea please submit it as well....this is a first come first served thing.

I think all of you have let me know your availabilty over the holidays and only one of you will be away for any great length of time so we should have no problems with a standard mission

Any questions/problems/dilemmas let me know.

Respectfully,
Andy

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET

USS FEYNMAN: Getting Things Done

by Max Felsher 12-12-1996

SD 81213.0200(GMT)
MD 7.1530
Bridge

Maril glanced upward as the Captain returned to the Bridge. Zane looked perturbed, unusual for the enterprising humanoid.

"I see we are back on course to Epsilon. Start to finish your work for the mission."

"The Orb?" Lt. Jenn inquired, unhappy with the information Jerran had given her.

"It looks...undecided." Zane paused for a moment. "Commander Maril, could I see you in my Ready Room?"

Maril nodded quickly, seeing his friend and commanding officer's puzzling expression. Picking up his PADD, he stood up and followed Zane into the Ready Room.

"Sit down, Onta," Zane said firmly as he himself sat behind his desk. Maril slowly placed himself on the couch.

"I just finished talking with Krazich about the Orb," Zane said, looking over other data on his desk console. "He says he will try to get it back to the Bajorans."

Maril looked cautiously at Zane. "You don't believe him."

Zane nodded, sighing. "He wants this alliance, but he wants his people to support him even more. And if he returns the Orb, the other Issahi are not exactly going to be pleased."

"Ahh...like Therindus who missed the ship to play games." Zane nodded, but Maril had the feeling that he had no idea who Thorindus was or what the legend was about.

"However," the Captain continued, "I think we have done all we can here. When we get to Epsilon, the crew can have some shore leave. In the meantime, I'd like Lieutenant Koreth to get the ship back to full systems...."

"Which will not allow him to ever leave Engineering," Maril commented, smiling.

"Yes," Zane also smiled. "Lieutenant Meleah can complete research on the Reaver ytterbium weapon and jognolium counter. When she's done with that, try to get her involved in going over the data on the Issahi and Reavers with Lieutenant Jenn. See if you can get Lieutenant Glin'kharr in on that, as well. Lieutenants Jerran and Allard should look at the Issahi and Reaver combat techniques and technology." He paused again. "Is Ensign Landers settled in yet?"

"I have a meeting with Ensign Landers at 1700 hours to do that."

"Good. He should start setting appointments with crewmembers soon. By the way, Commander, what are your thoughts on the Issahi?"

"They are a noble race, although they lack some diplomacy. They will make good allies in the future, and we will need their help against the Reavers."

"And the Reavers?"

"Definitely a race to be feared. We can defeat them, but it will be a hard- fought battle."

"Thank you, Commander. Dismissed."

Maril stood up from the couch to walk onto the Bridge. As he reached the doors, he turned and said, "One more thing, Captain. We never recovered the shuttlepod 'Piaget'. On its last known heading, it was going towards Reaver space."

Zane nodded thoughtfully. "Noted."


MD 7.1700 First Officer's Office

Maril looked up as Ensign Landers stepped into the office. "Sit down, Ensign," Maril said politely, motioning to a chair on the other side of his desk.

"Thank you, sir," Landers said as he sat down.

Maril began. "Now, Mr. Landers, I think you've already seen how the Feynman works in some ways. I expect you to follow those ways. I will tolerate no insubordination, no inappropriateness, no unprovoked confrontations. I expect you to behave like a Starfleet officer, and above all as a senior office of a starship. The NCO's here look up to you, and you have a responsibility to uphold. If you do not uphold this responsibility, you will be leaving faster than Ambela crossed the river. Is this understood?"

"Fully, sir."

"Good. Let's get down to business, as they say. I believe you know your job." Maril paused.

"Yes, sir. To assess the mental, psychological, and emotional health of the crew, and to attempt to remedy any mental illnesses and problems."

"And to advise the Captain in the mental and emotional states of other parties- enemies, allies, etc. I think you understand. The Captain would like you to start scheduling appointments as soon as possible. You may set up an office at any available room, including the last counselor's office. Here is a list of available rooms, as well as the current counseling staff," Maril said, picking up a PADD on his desk and handing it to the new Counselor. "You may make any changes, and look for new officers, but the changes must be approved by the Captain and myself." Maril paused and glanced at his desk console. "Your quarters are room 0535."

"Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, Ensign. Dismissed."

At that last order, Landers stood up quickly and headed out of the office.

The sun has met the sea,
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,
First Officer, USS Feynman,
aka Max Felsher

NRPG: Just finishing some stuff up. On to other things soon! 🙂

Oh, just a reminder: we left the shuttlepod out there, with our shapeshifting friend possibly on there. Regardless, I think our evil friend left the ship and I don't see how he could have gotten back (though he might have found a way--Jason?). I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Kevin:Just having the official settling-in for Landers. 🙂

USS FEYNMAN: Would you like some bad news with your dinner?

by Kristen Gant 12-13-1996

Stardate: 81213.1301
Scene: 10-Forward
MD: 7.1715

Krysa stepped into 10-Forward and made her way toward the bar where Bat stood in his customary position. He smiled at her as she entered. "Ahh, so the troops are arriving. Though I hardly expected you to be first, Krysa."

"Why not?" she asked. "You know why I'm here. Now bring it on .. or do I have to draw blood."

Bat laughed, "I would never think of standing between you and your first post-mission meal."

She grinned, "I would hope not."

"I have just the thing for you." He said turning to the replicator.

Krysa watched with interest, "Oh, what's that."

"Patience, my dear. Excellence takes time."

Krysa rolled her eyes and waited patiently. She watched as Bat threw looks at her over his shoulder. She grinned, knowing he was enjoying teasing her. Finally he turned around and sat a plate in front of her. She looked at it, breathing in the spicy aroma. "What is it?" she asked.

"I can't believe you of all people are asking me that!" he chuckled. "Just try it first."

"Great," she said picking up her fork. "I know you do this just to torment me."

"Yes, but you come back every time."

Krysa nodded, "You're right, it's my own fault. But I can never get enough of your surprises, Bat."

"I aim to please." He grinned.

Taking the first bite, Krysa smiled. As usual Bat had created a masterpiece. "Extraordinary, as always." She said as she filled her fork again. "Where do you get these recipes?"

Bat grinned, "Actually you helped with this one. It's Gerellian sword dragon in a garlic butter sauce."

Krysa chuckled. "Come now, Bat. I thought you liked dragons."

It was then that the Captain walked into 10-Forward, a solemn frown on his face. Krysa was happily devouring Bat's latest creature and didn't see him. But Bat did and brought her attention to him, "I think our Captain needs some cheering up."

He walked over to where Krysa was sitting, "I need to talk to you for minute," he said.

"Sure," she said, not liking the look on his face. She stood and followed him to a table. Even without looking at his face she could tell whatever it was wasn't going to be pleasant. He sat stiffly down waiting for her to join him.

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

He looked at her, his face softening a bit, "No."

Regards
, Lt. Krysa Jenn


NRPG: Andy, here's your opening :}

Kevin, Krysa will be at your holodeck pre-evaluation, but I wanted to do this first :} Being a former counselor herself, she will be very supportive of anything you need.

Kristen
--
Kristen & Scott Gant
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm

USS FEYNMAN: The Explanation

by Andrew Catterick 12-14-1996

Stardate: 81214.2100
Scene: 10-Forward
MD: 7.1715
He walked over to where Krysa was sitting, "I need to talk to you for minute," he said.


"Sure," she said, not liking the look on his face. She stood and followed him to a table. Even without looking at his face she could tell whatever it was wasn't going to be pleasant. He sat stiffly down waiting for her to join him.

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

He looked at her, his face softening a bit, "No."

He sat back before continuing as Bat appeared with a bowl of bowtie pasta and a glass of wine. "Well you two are sure spending a lot of 'quiet' time together." Bat said smugly as he put down the plate. Zane smiled down at the pasta remembering that he was hungry before looking up at his surrogate uncle. "Jealous?"

The older man snorted. "Of you! Not likely Z, just making an observation." He said over his shoulder as he headed back to the bar. The two shared an uncomfortable smile.

"You were saying..." Krsya prodded.

"That priority call that came in during the battle. It was from a Commodore Reese."

"Reese? Should I have heard of the Commodore?"

"Probably not. He commands the prison colony on Theta VI." He took a sip of his wine.

"Prison colony? Ohhhh."

"It seems our friend has escaped which is a feat in itself. And the Commodore gave me the old twenty questions along with the if I hear anything blah blah blah."

"You don't think she'd be stupid enough?" Kyrsa asked flabbergasted.

"I don't put anything past her. Obviously the circumstances have changed she has nothing she can hold over me but even so I'm going to arrest an escaped convict the second I lay eyes on her no matter what they might do. I think she'd know that but she does seem to think her self alot more 'powerful' than she really is." He shrugged. "Who knows. But I thought you'd like to know."

For a few moments they sat in silence finishing their dinners before Krysa started a new subject. "Looking forward to your 'consultation' with our new counsellor?"

"Oh yeah." Zane rolled his eyes. The captain was the first one to tout the importance of a ships counsellor to any starship except when he was the one that had to be analyzed. "Think my schedule is going to be full for the next few days.

"Come on. You know hes just doing his job and I know you haven't had your psych review since...well since I gave you one. Your overdo. Besides you have to set an example."

"I know I've already told the counsellor I can see him at his convience. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Thats a good boy...."

"Mind if I join you?" A new voice asked.

<<<NRPG>>>

Just a quick one.

Respectfully,
Andy

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET

USS FEYNMAN: Exercise and Examination

by Michael "Mike" Dailey 12-16-1996

SD: 81216.2130
SCENE: Lift enroute to Holodeck

The CSO leaned back against the cool wall of the lift. Having just had a quick meeting with his assistant-Security Chief, SCPO Alex Tamarov, he had found to his amazement, much of his own work was done by the ambitious NCO. *If only Alex would go through the Academy, he would make a great officer,* though J.C. Alex had contacted some of his 'friends' at EPSILON, and 'arranged' three replacement security NCO's to be waiting when the FEYNMAN docked, orders in hand. He had both of the Cadets complete the weekly Armory inventory, the shift reports were on his desk waiting for his signature.

J.C. initialed the PADD full of daily reports, and with nothing more pressing to do, continued to the Holodeck. First he had a meeting with the new CNS, and then a workout, hopefully with one of the other fellow officers. He had asked Lt. Koreth to attend, but was unsure if the CEO could make it. Perhaps the XO would have some free time to 'exercise'. J.C. laughed to himself at the mental picture of him in a boxing ring with the XO or CO. *That would be fun*.

That reminded him, he would have to schedule his own meeting with the Ensign Landers, to make sure the new CNS is qualified with the Phaser. J.C. had went through enough trouble getting the FEYNMAN 100% qualified per regulations, and was not going to slip.

The lift opened, depositing him on the Holodeck. Several other officers were also waiting in anticipation of what to expect out of this little meeting. J.C. shuddered at the thought of his last 'psych' test. All those snakes and bugs!!!

Submitted,
Mike Dailey
Splatter2@qtm.net

Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant Commander [Retired] Jordon Kabreigny - UNASSIGNED

=======
= NRPG =
=======

Hello all. Just a quickie to get J.C. to your meeting, Kevin. I wrote this before I checked my mail (bad move, I know). If Koreth or any other BRAVE (he he) soul wants to join J.C. in a Holodeck for a boxing match after the CNS meeting, we'll meet in the Holodeck on deck 13.

HO HO HO and Cheers! Mike

USS FEYNMAN: The Other Side of the Coin

by Andrew Catterick 12-16-1996

Stardate: 81216.0930
Scene: Kitchen
MD: 8.1200

"Hey Bat." The young prep cook said in way of greeting as he walked into the small kitchen that serviced the FEYNMAN's lounge. "Hand me that spice there will you." Bat said immediately as he concentrated on the ingredients in front of him. A few expert shakes of the offered spice and he picked up the platter and rushed over to the oven. "There that should do it. Thank you my boy that was perfect timing I was wondering how I was going to get a hold of that spice without the main dish solidifying on me."

Rick looked down at the spice in his hand. His furrowed brow indicated he was deep in thought. Bat smiled at the youngster. He wasn't exactly the smartest individual but he was a good kid and worked hard. Bat was glad he had been able to give him this opportunity. Much better than washing dishes at EPSILON's Wall. Discovery raced across his face. "I know what this is! This is some kind of love potion!"

"Close. Its called an aphrodisiac."

"Whats it do?" The puzzled look returned.

"Uhh...it makes for a happy crew." The old bartender grinned.

"Oh." His face brightened again. "Well maybe we should put it in everything!"

"Well we don't want the crew to be too happy or they'd never get any work done."

The teen nodded sagely. "Yeah."
________________________________________________
Scene: Ready-room
MD: 8.1300

As soft music filled the room the FEYNMAN's captain leaned back in his chair fighting the urge to put his feet up on the desk. It had taken all morning to 'forget' about the daily problems of a starship captain and those unique to him. But now he was enjoying the guilty pleasure of doing absolutely nothing. He needed some time off and he was looking forward to a little R&R once they reached EPSILON. Of course then came the problem of what to do. He hadn't visited the Wall in sometime but he knew if he did he'd most likely end up in the inevitable brawl that erupted every few hours. He smiled at the memories of when he was simply the CSO and could indulge himself in simple pleasures, not having to worry about setting an example. Perhaps if he was innocently in the vicinity of the Wall when a fight broke out he could rush to 'help' quell it. He wondered if the Admiral would believe that one. Probably not.

Of course what he really wanted to do was to spend a few quiet days with Krysa but as much as he thought about it he could not come up with a way to broach the subject with her. He had promised her he would give her time but was finding things were much simpler when everything had been secret. If they re-caught Dee perhaps he could talk the commodore into a firing squad. Reese seemed the type that would enjoy the spectacle.

The door chime rang.

"Come in," she heard Zane's voice call. She went in carrying the tray. He looked up at her quizzically. "What's this?"

"Bat asked me to bring it up. He said you requested it a while ago, and he's been .. busy."

Zane shook his head, "No, I didn't ask for anything."

Krysa frowned, "Then I would say," she began as she set the tray down on his desk, "That we've been 'set-up'."

Zane lifted the cover of the tray, and briefly sniffed the pleasant aroma which steamed out.

Krysa leaned on his desk, "You didn't by any chance say anything to him .. about .."

"No," he said quickly.

Krysa chuckled, "Well, it seems he has some ideas of his own then. And I think he approves."

"I'll speak to him .."

Krysa shook her head, "No, it's okay. I'm sure he mean's well."

Zane nodded, "Yeah,"

"Well, I should go and let you eat."

"There is enough here for two. You are welcome to join me."

Krysa grinned, "Okay. I'd like that. Besides I do have my mission report ready for you." She held out the PADD, which he took. Krysa then sat down and they ate Bat's delicious lunch as the discussed the Issahi and the Reavers. "So plans for EPSILON?" Zane asked as the conversations drifted from work to play. With Bat's meal devoured both officers were finding themselves feeling quite...'relaxed'.

"Well I've got some shopping to catch up on and I think I might ask Meleah if she'd like to help me take EPSILON by force." She laughed. "You?"

"I don't know I was just trying to decide when you arrived. Lots to choose from." He took a sip of his water. "Do you find it hot in here?"


<<<NRPG>>>

Kris: <BEG>

Respectfully,
Andy

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET

USS FEYNMAN: Taking Care of Business

by Kristen Gant 12-16-1996

Stardate: 81216.1149
Scene: Krysa's office
MD: 8.1200

Krysa had spent the morning in her office going over the least enjoyable part of her job .. paperwork. The end of a mission always brought at least several transfer requests, as well as Mr. Maril with his requests for accounting of supplies and inventories and personnel requests.

And then of course there was always the end of mission report she had to write as the second officer of the FEYNMAN. When she had finished it, she safely stored it on a PADD and headed to 10-Forward for one of Bat's specialties. She could have easily gotten something in her quarters or even in her office. But nothing beat the wonders that came out of Bat's 10-Forward replicator.

As she entered the lounge, Bat motioned her over. "Krysa, am I glad to see you."

She grinned, "Thanks Bat."

"I need you to run an errand for me."

"Sure."

"The Captain's in his ready room, and asked me to bring up this for him." The barkeep pulled up a covered tray and placed it on the counter. "I've been trying to get away, but I've been very busy."

Krysa looked around the nearly empty room. "Very busy."

"Krysa, you ought to know by now that I never leave the bar unattended. Couldn't you please do me this favor." He grinned, "There's enough for two there."

Krysa raised and eyebrow at his pleading face. Finally she sighed, "Sure why not. I have to take him this report anyway."

"Come in," she heard Zane's voice call. She went in carrying the tray. He looked up at her quizzically. "What's this?"

"Bat asked me to bring it up. He said you requested it a while ago, and he's been .. busy."

Zane shook his head, "No, I didn't ask for anything."

Krysa frowned, "Then I would say," she began as she set the tray down on his desk, "That we've been 'set-up'."

Zane lifted the cover of the tray, and briefly sniffed the pleasant aroma which steamed out.

Krysa leaned on his desk, "You didn't by any chance say anything to him .. about .."

"No," he said quickly.

Krysa chuckled, "Well, it seems he has some ideas of his own then. And I think he approves."

"I'll speak to him .."

Krysa shook her head, "No, it's okay. I'm sure he mean's well."

Zane nodded, "Yeah,"

"Well, I should go and let you eat."

"There is enough here for two. You are welcome to join me."

Krysa grinned, "Okay. I'd like that. Besides I do have my mission report ready for you." She held out the PADD, which he took. Krysa then sat down and they ate Bat's delicious lunch as the discussed the Issahi and the Reavers.

Scene: Holodeck
MD: 8.1655

Krysa stepped into the holodeck for Counselor Landers staff meeting. She was pleased to see Lt. Meleah and headed over to stand next to her.

"Good afternoon Lt.?"

"Good afternoon." The Android responded.

"Meleah?" Krysa started, "I was wondering. Do you have any plans for when we get to EPSILON?"

"I have a psych review with the Counselor at 1600 on the day we arrive. But other then that I have no plans."

Krysa grinned. "How would you like to spend a day shopping with me?"

"Shopping?" Meleah asked.

"Believe me, it's something that we girls get a lot of pleasure from."

"Then I think I would like to go shopping with you."

"Excellent,"

Scene: Counselor's Office MD: 10.0900

Krysa arrived at Ens. Landers office just in time to begin her session. She was surprised at how nervous she was. How many of these had she taken and given over then years? Far to many to even count. Yet, she'd not spoken to a counselor since Lt. Krazney, and that had been a pre-nuptual session.

Her life had definitely turned upside down since then.

Regards,
Lt. Krysa Jenn
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN


NRPG: Andy, hope you don't mind, but that was kinda fun :}

Okay, Kevin, Krysa has officially arrived for the two counselor events. This post didn't take as long to write as I thought it would :} That's cause my Kevin is in a very good mood this morning :}

Kristen

--
Kristen & Scott Gant
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm

USS FEYNMAN: Dreamscapes

by Jason Bostjancic 12-17-1996

SD: 81217
MD: 9.0200
Scene: Tarrant's Quarters (again)

Once again the CEO attempted to catch up on sleep, which fought him every step of the way. Eventually he found himself counting the cycles of the nearly inaudible hum of the ship. In some places on board it's present, at others it's effectively blocked out.

After a while, most people are able to focus the sound out, eventually they forget its even there, and the sub-conscious blocks it out. But for a starship engineer it's always audible... and it can speak to the person who's trained to listen: telling what is going on, what is wrong, and what needs fixing.

The last thing he remembered thinking was that the EPS system needed to be recalibrated before sleep set in - but it would not be a quiet one.

.........

Suddenly Tarrant found himself back on the reaver base. Honeycombed walls glowed a bright yellow wich seemed to be pulsating.

"We have to get out of here." came a voice from the left. It was Dunnon from engineering, "The power build up will explode in 30 seconds." In slow-motion Dunnon turned and fled down the corridor.

Tarrant tried to run after the officer, but the floor had tuned into a sticky black mass from which he couldn't free himself, couldn't move. He turned and saw one of the security team, Ens. Bordeau was his name. From behind the officer came a reaver from out of the wall. Tarrant tried to yell to the Ensign, warn him, but no words would come out. Desperately, he tried to pull away from the floor, but it would not yield.

Without hesitation, the reaver sent one of his sharp appendages through the young security officer. He looked down slowly at the 'arm' sticking through his chest, then looked up towards Tarrant and mouthed the words 'help me, please.. help me'

The scene changed, and Tarrant found himself from a place from his past. He was in the rather small observation room of the USS Stingray.. his first posting in Starfleet.

Before him stood the ship's CO Darryl Bathurst.

"Gentlemen," he began. "I know we're understaffed, but we've received several transfer orders from Star Fleet. In fact, everyone bar myself has been transferred back to base."

To Tarrant's right stood Lt. Rogers. She was the FO and OPS controller. On the left was Ensign Xevaj.

"Tarsa Rogers, I now promote you to the rank of Full Lieutenant, with all the priveleges, responsibilities, and duties according that rank. Congratulations!" His nimble fingers replaced the hollow pip with a full one.

"Mr. Tarrant, it seems we can recycle Tarsa's pip since it's to go to you. I now promote you to the rank of Lieutenant (junior grade) and to you Mr. Xevaj goes the same rank."

A beep on Darryl's viewer turned his attention away from the proceedings. He scrolled through the brief message from OPS."It seems that the D-warp shuttle to take you back to base has just arrived. You'll depart as soon as you're ready."

"But what will you do with the Savasci," Tarrant questioned. "You'll be way undermanned to take her on."

The Savasci was a vessel from some alternate Starfleet. Large, powerful, and overbearing... it was more than a match for the little scout ship.

"I intend to do what is needed Lieutenant," Darryl replied dodging the question. "I will do my duty as you will one day."

"..as you will one day... as you will one day."

Again the scene changed. Lt(jg) Koreth found himself looking at an aft image from the D-warp shuttle starting to pull away. The Stingray, the Savasci, and a Galaxy class derilect, the Nautilus were huddled together.

The viewer changed to show Darryl standing fearlessly on the bridge. Red Alert lights were flashing in the background. There was no fear though, just calmness in the air.

"... For the record and for anyone who has intercepted this transmission on open frequency, we went down dying to save the future of Star Fleet. Stingray out."

Almost instantaneously as the transmission finished, a massive explosion erupted cloaking all three ships. A second explosion, probably the Nautilus, added fuel to the reaction. The third and final, the largest of all, was so bright that the viewer dulled as the tinting came into effect. Slowly, the flames died away leaving, well leaving nothing at all...

Tarrant tried to turn away, but the space he was in all of a sudden became cramped. No longer on a D-warp shuttle, the partial klingon was stuffed into the vulcan freightor's escape pod he used to escape the reaver base.

Before him the FEYNMAN. But the overall image was unfamiliar. Ships lay strewn about, parts and hulls, dead. It looked like the carnage seen at the memorium on earth for those lost during the two historic Borg attacks.

Six Reaver ships came at the Feynman. She tried to break away, but the damage was too great. Captain Zane's voice filled the small pod.

"... For the record and for anyone who has intercepted this transmission on open frequency, we went down dying to save the future of Star Fleet. Feynman out."

Breathless, Tarrant watched as the vessels approached, seemingly confident in thier victory. Then a flash of light from the Feynman's hull. And an explosion of light enveloped all that he could see....

Darkness.

A cold sweat and heavy breathing helped bring his mind back into focus, into reality.

.........

NRPG

Andy: Familiar at all?

Since everyone else is doing character development....

Actually, I was bored, tired, and found some old archives so I decided to blurb this thing together. Something I may play on a bit here in the future.. who knows.

Respectfully, Jason

Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN

Potest esse nur unus

USS FEYNMAN: Moving On... On Wheels??

by Kristen Gant 12-17-1996

Stardate: 81217.0223
Scene: Ready Room
MD: 8.1400

>He took a sip of his water. "Do you find it hot in here?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, I do .." she said. Their eyes met and she saw him shifting uncomfortably. She could feel her own face flush, "Well, I don't know about Bat's intentions .. but I'm glad he made lunch for us."

"Me too."

"I suppose I should go now, and let you get back to you work."

He nodded, and stood as she did. "Krysa?" She turned to look at him, "I wasn't really working."

She laughed, "Well, the mission is over."

"Thanks for having lunch with me."

She smiled, "I enjoyed it. You know, maybe .. if you don't have any plans while on shore leave, we could do something .. together."

"I thought you wanted to go shopping?" he said.

"I do," she grinned. "But I don't think that even I, could shop away all of my shore leave. I'm sure if I tried really hard, I could squeeze you in."

"Then only one question remains," he said; his face serious.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Do you really want to?"

She smiled lightly, "Yes, I do."

Scene: Holodeck One
MD: 8.1715

"To assist in my little pre-assessment of your mental health, I have devised a small test for everyone." At this point Loren smiled, "The objective today is to keep up with me... and stay alive." With that Loren skillfully turned around and took off down the hillside yelling behind him for the others to hurry up.

Krysa was a bit confused at the Counselor's tactics', but a run didn't seem so bad. As she moved to start running behind the Counselor, she noticed that she was rolling alone. She looked down to find that the holodeck program had seen fit to place 'rollerblades' on her feet as well. She was so surprised that the first thing that happened was that she fell forward.

Bracing herself for the fall, she found her knees and elbows padded and an odd feeling hat upon her head. Looking up from her position on the ground she saw that all of her fellow officers had been outfitted as well and were in various stages of motion. Some on the ground like herself, and other rolling wildly down the hill.

"He's got to be kidding," she said under her breath. She attempted to stand again, with little success. As all the others were ahead of her she carefully crawled over to the grass and was able to stand on the softer ground.

"Don't give up, Krysa!" she heard the counselor call. Tentatively she took a step onto the pavement and began to roll. Moving slowly at first, until she began to get the hang of it. Once she got a rhythm going she found it was really quite easy. And soon she was able to catch up to the others.

"Glad you could join us," Loren said.

"You could have warned us," she snapped lightly at him.

"Now where would the fun of that be," he chuckled.

Scene: CNS's Office
MD: 10.0900

"First off, Krysa. Tell me how you feel about Kavan's death and then anything else you feel might be relevant. I'm here to help in any way I can, so let me."

Krysa chuckled, "You don't start off easy, do you?"

The counselor shrugged, "Depends on what I'm feeling from whoever is sitting in that chair that you're in right now."

Krysa nodded, she did the same thing. Techniques that worked for one person, would not work for another. "Okay, Kavan." She paused. She really tried not to think about him too much since she'd gotten rid of the majority of his things. Sometimes that had been an easy task, other times it was impossible. "He was a good man. And he deserved a lot more."

"Why do you say that?"

"His life was cut short. He should've .. lived .."

"How does that make you feel."

Krysa smiled faintly, "I feel guilty. I mean, I know what the experts say. And I know what I would tell someone that said that. But I can't help but think sometimes, that *if* I hadn't married him .. or if I had moved to Betazed with him, rather then staying here .. maybe he'd still be alive."

"You don't know that."

"No," she said, "I know that there are no guarantee's in life. But I also know that he would not have been on that Ring looking for me and he would not have been shot and killed."

"And you feel that you did something wrong that caused that."

She chuckled, "It's sounds silly, when you say it like that. And I know that I didn't, but at the time, I couldn't help feeling it. Though I was so glad to have him around. I'd been kidnapped, and they kept me pretty drugged and incoherent. But Kavan was out looking for me, and calling for me, and I could *hear* him. And it helped me to stay focused.

"I'm sure you know, I lost most of my telepathic abilities when I was 16. And I spent many years trying to get something .. anything back. I'd pretty much resigned myself to only being able to pick up feeling, not voices. Then Kavan came along." She paused, "Well, to be honest, Kavan wasn't the first telepathic contact I had since the accident, however, it was controlled and on purpose. The only other one was very much an accident. But with Kavan it was .. comfortable .. to hear him. And I know, had I been given the time, I could have easily loved him."

"You weren't in love with him."

"I don't know," she said. "I mean, I barely knew him. My father is very old-world. This despite the fact that he lived on Earth for most of his life. I was born there, in the embassy, of course, so I retained Betazed citizenship. And from the day I was born, my father had decided that I would marry Kavan, the son of his best friend from home. And eventually .. I did."

"What did you do after he died?"

"I didn't handle it well at first."

"Not many of us would."

Krysa smiled before continuing. "But I think I've come to terms with it. At least as much as I probably ever will."

"In other words, you're *moving on* with your life?"

Krysa grinned, "Yes."

Regards,
Lt. Krysa Jenn
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN


NRPG: Well, you all know I love this character development stuff.. So here's a bunch :}

Kristen
--
Kristen & Scott Gant
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm

USS FEYNMAN: On the Way Home...

by Michael "Mike" Dailey 12-17-1996

SD: 81217.2230
MD: 8.2130
SCENE: Tyson vs. 'The Kidd'
(a.k.a. outside the Holodeck)

Tarrant found J.C. outside the Holodeck.

"Thanks for coming sir." said the CSO.

"Drop the formalities. I'm off duty, so 'Tarrant' will work just fine." He smiled.

Allard looked down at the bundle of cloth Tarrant held and his face lit up slightly.

"You've brought it. I didn't get a chance to have a good look at the blade down at the Reaver base, but it appeared to be pretty good."

Slowly unwrapping the Katana, he explained the origins. "I found it on Epsilon at this weapons shop. Cost me plenty of latinum, but it's worth it. Some type of new Duranium, titanium alloys... but it was created by the old folding methods, and has a sheen close to that of Damascus Steels of ancient Earth."

As much as the CSO wanted to try swashbuckling his Klingon friend, J.C. had other ideas. He called up a program he had been working on, keyed in a few changes, and hit the save key.

<Program ready> said the inviting computer. "Tarrant, you're gonna like this." The doors parted at their approach. "Um, I'll take a rain check on the fencing this time. This is something more... physical."

The CEO looked curious, then grinning his best Klingon grin, Tarrant said "J.C., after seeing you on roller blades earlier, I though you had enough 'physical' strain today." J.C. faked a 'hurt-puppy- look, but then laughed. Koreth carefully wrapped the Katana and lay it aside near the doors.

"Ready," asked J.C.

"Yes", said Koreth.

"Computer, run program Allard-034-C". Moments later, Koreth was looking around at the new surroundings that had materialized. A crowd of cheering people surrounded a 16 ft square area, roped off on all sides, with a rubber-like floor. Bare, except for himself, J.C., and two stools at opposite corners. Even more surprising was the change of attire. Gone were J.C.'s jeans and T-shirt, along with Koreth's usually exercise duds. Koreth was clad in a pair of metallic-red shorts, and likewise for J.C., except in blue. J.C. bent over to pick up two pairs of strange-looking gloves.

"Hold out your hands", said J.C. The engineer did so, and J.C. put on Koreth's black gloves, then fit himself. "Hmmm. I like this, J.C. It reminds me of my Ascension ceremony in a way", said Tarrant.

J.C. quickly explained the rules to his friend, who listened with increasing interest.

"...and most of all, you CANNOT punch below the belt, touch your opponent in any way except with a fisted blow."

Koreth frowned, "What fun is that?!".

J.C. laughed, fitting Koreth with a padded helmet and a mouth protector. "You'll see. Go sit on your bench." They turned to their respective corners, and watched the center as a short, balding, grey-skinned individual, clad in black pants, and a black and white striped shirt, materialized in the center. Koreth almost lost his seat from laughing, at the sight of the 'referee'.

In a squeaky, adolescent-sounding voice, the 'ref began, "Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to the Middleweight championship of the Federation!" the crowd cheered. "In this corner....."

SNIP

The doors opened to deposit the Chief Engineer and Security Chief out of the Holodeck. Both had white towels across their shoulder, both laughing a a very healthy laugh. J.C. stopped, and wiped his head. They turned to look at each other, staring in quick silence, then bursting out in laughter again.

"How are we going to explain this,"? Asked Koreth? "You look awful, J.C."

"Yeah, but you're not pretty, either." Both had black eyes, J.C. a slightly swollen lip, and a trickle of blood from Koreth's nose.

"You're not on the bridge," said J.C. "I have to face our new CNS, and then go on duty!". The CSO tried to sound convincingly worried, but failed.

"We could visit Dr. Glin'kharr," said J.C. "Maybe he would..."

"No. He's probably not on duty, anyway." They walked to the turbo lift. J.C. took his towel, and rolled it, considering a possible 'snapping' move, but changed his mind.

"Deck Five," said Tarrant, as they stepped into the lift "Well, maybe we'll look better after a few hours sleep, I'm ready for it, J.C."

The CSO looked up at the Klingon, "Tarrant, you can call me Justin." he said, "all of my friends do."

Submitted,
Mike Dailey
Spla...@qtm.net
Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant Commander [Retired] Jordon Kabreigny - UNASSIGNED

=======
= NRPG =
=======

Just some healthy character development. Kevin, consider J.C. at our meeting, per scheduled. Bruised and sleepy, but there. Wonder who the 'ref was...???

Jason, save the fencing idea. I would have went with it, but I really wanted to play this out.

Ted - got an ice-pack or steak?

HO HO HO
and cheers!
Mike

USS FEYNMAN: Humans and Their Inventions...

by Max Felsher 12-18-1996

SD 81218.0240 (GMT)
MD 8.0730
First Officer's Office

Maril tapped his desk console and began. "Computer, begin First Officer's Log, Stardate 81218.0730. Our mission is over, and there are mixed feelings among the crew. While it is exciting to meet a possible new ally, the concept of having to fight the Reavers is a daunting one. I admit there is little chance of the Reavers atttacking soon, but nonetheless they are somewhat frightening.

"Also, the Issahi may or may not return the Orb of the Bajoran Prophets to Bajor. It is even more frightnening to think of the Reavers with something of that power in their possession. I hope the situation improves.

"The Feynman is back to running efficiency, although we did take some damage from the battles with the Reavers. The technology of the Reavers should definitely be investigated and analyzed so that we can better combat it in the future.

"We also picked up a new Counselor during this mission, in a somewhat unconventional manner. Ensign Landers seems to be settling in quite well, ordering psychological evaluations for all senior officers. We left Ensign Lee on Issah to remain as a representative of the Federation from the Diplomatic Corps.

"Regretfully, I must report that a number of fine officers were killed or injured during this mission. Most of the injured can be treated, but of course the deceased are beyond medicine.

"All in all, it has been an eventful and surprising mission. The crew will need a few days of shore leave to relax before the next mission. End log."

MD 8.1700
Holodeck 1

Maril entered the Holodeck somewhat fatigued. He had spent the whole day doing administrative work. Transfers, requests, recommendations, complaints, reprimands, reports, and just about everything else that went on over the ship and a great deal from outside the ship. So Maril was not Exas when he saw land at the moment.

"Are you ready, sir?" Landers said calmly as he passed by.

Maril brightened. "Ready for anything, Ensign."

It was then that he saw the mountain and the track. Very well, he had climbed that mountain on Vulcan, *with* the stairs. He could climb this.

However, as Landers explained the evaluation and Maril saw everyone equipped with padding and shoes with a line of small wheels, Maril's smile dropped. This would not be swimming for the fish.

The moment Maril tried to walk, his weight collapsed from under him and he fell down. He had to set the example, though, so he got back up and tried it again. He fell again. He pulled himself up another time and was finally able to start when he lost his control and landed on the side of the track.

Maril resigned himself to the fact that this might take a while. However, when he put himself back on the track, he was able to go under his own power and under control. It wasn't very graceful, but it started Maril up the mountain. He was quickly up to the pack.

<<<<NRPG: Kevin: He's at the pre-evaluation. Maril can come any time at Lander's convenience (except ALPHA shift, which runs 0745-1600 hours each day). But he's not coming willingly. <BG> >>>>

MD 9.1700
First Officer's Office

Maril sat back, in a rare relaxed moment. He quickly regained his composure, however. He was usually only relaxed in the company of friends in a very safe atmosphere. Of course, as the first officer of a starship, there was rarely a time when it was very safe, and so he was rarely completely relaxed. Sometimes, he loosened up a little with very close friends or family, but that was rare.

Sighing, he thought back upon recent events. He had finally finished all of the reports and most of the recommendations and transfers, so he could think about it for a second.

He remembered the fear he had felt against the Reavers, especially those cold feelings, which had seemed almost of something else. He thought about the fun and apprehension in the Coalsack.

He also remembered the great fear and the ultimate sense of loss in fighting the Talarian plague. Most of those who died during that mission died under his command. Sometimes he thought he had led those crewmembers into death. Junior officers often thought that loss of crew did not affect the higher officers. Of course, this wasn't true. The more senior officers just hid their feelings from the crew better. The plague had been so devastating, though. Maril had never lost so many under his command.

Then, he remembered the terror he had held when his family was missing, and his joy when they were found again. He also thought back to the even greater joy at his new niece who had been born right on the Feynman.

Maril smiled. When life seemed hopeless, he could always think back to little Krysel. He actually hadn't seen anyone in his family in quite a while. But he could still remember....

The sun has met the sea,
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,
First Officer, USS Feynman,
aka Max Felsher

NRPG: Kevin: Just giving some background for the evaluation, whenever that may be. :)

Andy, Kristen: I wonder how Maril's going to react when he finds about Zane and Krysa. ;) Oh, well. He'll find out. I just hope he's not the last one on the ship to know. <BG>

USS FEYNMAN: 10F - Koreth's Evaluation

by Jason Bostjancic 12-20-1996

SD: 81220
MD: 9.1250
Scene: 10-Foreward

He was suppost to be on duty in Engineering, but Maril had ordered that all Senior officers commit to their evaluation times which Ens. Landers had set, regardless of rotations.

And so.. here he was. Tarrant tried to tell himself that he felt indifferent towards being evaluated... that it's part of the job. But truthfully he hated the idea - he hated the thought of actually having to look into his own life.

"Terellian Juice, Lieutenant?" Bat already had the drink sitting on the bar. The old CSO knew his 'customers' well.

"Thanks Bat, " he grabbed the drink and took a generous gulp.

A mischevious grin fell upon the old bartender, "Ready to put your head into the Lion's den?"

The engineer turned away, "It's not that bad."

Bat was a bit surprised. Usually the partial klingon was more animated. He had touched on something, but wasn't sure what. Although Bat liked to push until he got an answer, he decided to leave this one alone, and merely patted Tarrant on the shoulder. "Nope, guess it shouldn't be."

Moving over to an open table, Lt. Koreth sat down and waited for Ens. Landers to come.

<NRPG> Guess it's my turn eh?

Counsel away

Respectfully,
Jason

Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN

Potest esse nur unus

USS FEYNMAN: RE: Koreth's Evaluation

by Jason Bostjancic 12-20-1996

Stardate: 81220.2241
Scene: Ten Forward
MD: 9.1250

"Lt., would you play in a violin recital in a few days?"

Koreth was relatively stunned. He had been expecting hard questions, but none like this.

"Lt., your pyschological profile shows you very fit for duty. There really was no reason for me to evaluate you. I just wanted to know if you were interested in playing in a concert a few days after we've reached SB EPSILON. I have very little skill myself with the violin, but I am a competent player. I'm sure that I could recriuit Meleah to play as well. It would take no time for her to learn if she doesn't already know how."

Loren took another sip of his juice as he waited for Koreth to give a reply.

A concert. Strangely enough, feelings from childhood welled up. Fear, anxiety, and obligation. Even as a child, Tarrant was not fond of practcing. Once away from the pressures of his mother though, he fell into severe neglect, and only picked up the instument once in a while.. when he needed it.

True to form, the CEO was lacking in practice, which almost caused him to reject the idea.

Then he remembered something his mother often said to him when he'd want to go to the R&D labs at home (Utopia Planitia) when his practice time was scheduled. "If you won't do it for yourself, then do it for others. So that they can feel the music,'True' music, not a recording."

She would usually then go off about how they had to be careful not to lose their humanity to the ways of technology. Luckily Ens. Landers broke in before Tarrant could remember that much.

"Lieutenant?" His face looked a bit worried as if predicting the answer.

"Sure. I'll play in the concert. " he allowed a grin, "but I may be a bit rusty."

Loren scoffed, "From what I've read, your 'rusty' is better than my 'best' anyday. Well, Lieutenant, If that's all then..."

"How was it for you on the 'homeworld'," the disdain emphasized in that last word was unmistakable.

For one of the few times, Loren found himself caught off-guard. But inly for a moment. "So you've done some research on me I take it."

Tarrant nodded. "I've learned to go into a battle with as much knowledge about your enemy as possible."

"Does that mean I am the enemy?"

"No," the partial klingon grinned, "but I didn't know that coming into this 'evaluation'. One of our last counselors questioned my ability in Engineering at a Senior Staff Meeting without having all of the facts."

In a rather assuring tone Loren added, "I understand then. I can assure you, Mr. Koreth, should a situation ever arise like that, I will show you no dishonor in such a manner."

"Thank you counselor, but you still haven't answered 'my' question."

......... <NRPG> Well, Koreth is no counselor, but maybe Loren would care to share some personal insights? Just an idea.

Respectfully,
Jason

Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN

Potest esse nur unus

USS FEYNMAN: The Doctor's Orders...

by Michael "Mike" Dailey 12-20-1996

SD: 81220.2230
SCENE: J.C. Quarters
MD: 9.0645

<Current ship's time is 0645 hrs.> The FEYNMAN computer alarm responded at the preset time.

<Current ship's time is 0646 hrs.>

Rolling over, the CSO gathered a pillow and tossed it towards the disembodied voice...

"Mrfg.. I'g gefffing urp..", spoken in the mystical language of the undead.

<Current ship's time is 0647 hrs.>

"Alright, computer. Belay the ALARM." said J.C., slowly rising from the dead. Stretching, he fought every instinct to go back to sleep.

< Acknowledged. You have three new mail messages.>

He would read them later, probably just 'junk-mail'. After the 'fun' he had roller-blading, and almost plowing into the senior staff like cricket balls, and then the 'exercise' session he had with the CEO, Tarrant Koreth, sleep had been top priority at 0100 hrs, when he finally got to bed.

Rubbing his still slightly painful lip, J.C. headed for the shower. "Computer, what time is it?" now almost 90% awake.

<Current ship's time is 0648>

"Oh, great. The eval!". J.C. hurried into the shower, and changed into his uniform. He has used to sleeping until about 0720 and being ready for the start of ALPHA at 0745. Glancing in the mirror for a last quick look, J.C. gave his hair a quick comb. It was time for a haircut. The white toner was fading back to his original light-brown. *Oh well, it was great at the academy*, he thought.

As he left his quarters, it was 0656. He made the lift at the end of DECK 5 in record time. Leaning against the back of the lift, J.C. though about the psych tests at ALB and the Academy he had been grinded through. Most people felt uncomfortable with the entire idea of probing one's thoughts, fears, and emotions. Shuddering at the memories J.C. would rather forget.

Being in the 1% of all Terrans that were esper-blind or 'psy-null', or whatever term the doctors and shrinks happen to choose when referring to people that had absolutely no psyonic capability. That made him feel even more like a guinea pig. But, he had been told, that in itself was a gift, for no one could uses his mind or thoughts against him.

Still there had been that embarrassing incident with the Reavers... Glin'Kharr said it was a fluke, probably more due to exhaustion that mental manipulation. He had avoided Mr. Maril for a few days after that one.

J.C. was a bit curious about the new CNS, he had not had the time to review Mr. Landers' service record. He imagined they were about the same age. *Good,* thought J.C. *I won't be the 'rookie' any more.* He had to remind Landers to qualify with his sidearm as soon as time permitted.

The lift slowed to deposit the CSO on the holodeck, awaiting Mr. Landers' arrival.


Submitted,
Mike Dailey
Splatter2@qtm.net

Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O - USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL - SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant Commander [Retired] Jordon Kabreigny - UNASSIGNED

=======
= NRPG =
=======

Hello all, from the cold reaches of INDIANA, where the high was 10. Let's have a BBQ!! OK, maybe not. <G>. Just a little one to get J.C. to the meeting. Yes, J.C. is esper-blind, something I picked up from one of my fav. novels.

Jason, hope the 'boxing-match' was O.K., you can rp the fencing fellows match as soon as J.C./Tarrant have some off-time.... can't wait <G>.

Kevin, as much as J.C. hated the roller-disaster, I liked it <G>. He's all yours.


HO HO HO
and Cheers!
Mike

USS FEYNMAN: Epsilon... Red?

by Kristen Gant 12-21-1996

Stardate: 81221.1422
Scene: Bridge
MD: 10.0800

Krysa watched as Lt. Jerran brought the FEYNMAN into dock at SB EPSILON. It was always good to get back to the starbase. While it couldn't be considered 'home' it certainly was an anchor point for crew, and a place for them go and get their spirits lifted.

Krysa was finished a few last minute docking tests for the sensors when she felt a presence behind her. She looked up to see Ens. Garrett behind her.

"You're early, Jeanine." She said.

"I know. But I figured you'd want to have a chance to get ready."

Krysa smiled, "Yes, I suppose I should.'

"Ready for what?" Teri asked leaning over towards her.

Krysa raised an eyebrow at him, "I have my psych evaluation this morning, if you must know."

"Ahh, time to get counseled."

Krysa knew Jerran was teasing her and she let him have his fun as she headed out. Some time in her quarters out to help quell her raging nerves before she had to meet Ens. Landers.

<<NRPG: I don't think anyone wrote us actually making it to EPSILON yet, so I did :}>>


Scene: CNS Office->Holodeck
MD: 10.0955

Loren escorted the 2nd officer to the door. As she made her way down the corridor, Loren stood in the doorway and called to her suddenly and for the briefest moment telepathically. *I'm also here if you need to talk about the moving on part of your life as well.*

Krysa was surprised partly because she hadn't been able to use her telepathic powers often or well, but also because she could feel the grin from Loren in the brief contact.

Krysa permitted herself a smile and kept walking. Secrets never stayed secrets long on the FEYNMAN.

She could only hope it would remain a secret from the rest of the crew at least until she knew what the secret was. What she felt for the captain was much different then her feelings for Kavan. With him there really had been little choice. And what little choice there was, had nothing to do with Kavan. It had to do with accepting or rejecting her father's decision. Now she had her own decisions to make .. and she wanted so much to make the right one. For to lose the relationship she'd had with Zane up until now, was unacceptable.

She headed to a holodeck that she had reserved for herself for the afternoon. She planned on spending the day in spa doing nothing but lounging and being waited on hand and foot. She approached the holodeck, "Computer, run program Tricoci-43"

<Program now running, you may enter when ready.>

Krysa stepped in and was met by a handsome maitre'de with long silver streaked dark hair. "Good morning, Miss Jenn, if you step this way, your day of luxury awaits you."

Krysa nodded and stepped into her own private spa.

<<NRPG: Yes this is what I truly want for Christmas :} Don't know if any of you have Mario Tricoci Salons where you are .. they are big in Chicago, and from what I hear .. to absolutely *die* for:}>>


Scene: Transporter Room
MD: 10.1700

Krysa stepped into the Transporter room sporting a swirling new hairdo, with ringlets running down the side of her face and on her forehead in a playful array. She had also changed out of her uniform and into a more dressy civilian style. Meleah was waiting for her and raised an inquisitive look at her.

"You have changed your hair?" she asked, "Did you not like the old style?"

"Of course, I did." Krysa told her. "But I can't truly get into a day of shoping with that severe Starfleet do."

"You can't?"

Krysa smiled. "Don't worry, Lt. We'll have you loosened up in no time. Just leave yourself in my hands."

Regards,
Lt. Krysa Jenn


NRPG: Are you ready, Melanie :} Feel free to have fun! We have all night to paint Epsilon red ... Though I would suggest we avoid the wall .. :}:} Krysa's not up for fight!

Kristen
--
Kristen & Scott Gant
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm

USS FEYNMAN: Family

by Andrew Catterick 12-23-1996

SD: 81223.1000
MD: 10.0830
Scene: Visitor's Quarters

[Come in.] The voice behind the door answered to the captain's signal. "Good day captain. I take it we have arrived." Subcommander Ross gestured towards the internal view of EPSILON through his window.

"Yes. I've just come to escort you and your party to the main docking ring. SILVER fleet officials and assorted diplomats will meet you there. I also wanted to return this you." He handed over the long thin package.

"The dilithium sword." Ross said with out checking. "But this is to be returned to your admiral. It was after all given to him."

"I know you will be meeting with him and felt you might wish to return it yourself."

Ross said nothing.

"Starfleet intelligence has finished its investigation into your background."

"I had assumed they would. Did they find anything of interest?"

"You were only an infant when your ship was lost, there was little of interest to find, as far as intel was concerned. But they did find out who you are and where you are from." Zane held out a PADD.

"Have my relations been told of my existence?" Ross asked quietly.

"No, that is for you to do...or not do if that is your decision. But I'm sure your family would like to know you are alive."

"My family does know I am alive." He continued after Zane's confused look. "My family is on Issah."

"I meant your biological family."

"Biology means nothing to me. I have no need of them and I would assume they have no need of me."

"I see."

Ross frowned, the diapproval clearly evident. "I had thought you stronger captain."

"Meaning?"

"I know you are in the same predicament as me. I did not think you to be so sentimental."

"I'm not sure I'm following." Zane's eyes flickered momentarily to the window as in the background USS SAGAN slipped free of its berth beginning its next mission to the cosmos."

Ross sat down in the chair beside him and gestured Zane to do the same. "As I have told you before; we have been watching you for some time and have developed many routes of information gathering. One of them provided a profile of you. It seems you and I are very much alike. In terms of our beginning at least."

Ross knew about his being found in a testtube on a derelict ship the captain realized. "So you see," Ross continued, "neither of us know who our 'real' families are. I do not care. Apparently you do not have that strength. Sorry captain I must be blunt. It is how my parents raised me."

Zane laughed. "Thats quite alright I do not view wanting to find ones past as a weakness. We may be similar but we are different in many respects. You are human, you know that. I don't know what I am. You know where other humans live, if you want to find your family it is easily done, in a few minutes you could be talking to them if you so desired. All it would take is a quick communication to ops and then a subspace signal. I can not. It is much easier to cast off the past when you know what it is."

"Perhaps."

Zane wondered how Ross had discovered this information. He had implied that Issahi intelligence gathering techniques had provided it. That was doubtful. More likely a talkative crewmember who met the Issahi delegation and noted the similarity between Ross and Zane. Still he couldn't take any chances he'd have to notify SILVER intel. So much for an early start to shoreleave. He now faced and afternoon of filling out reports. Good thing his meeting with the admiral was a few days away.

"Well." The captain said as he rose. "I'm afraid if we don't leave now you and your delegation will be late in meeting the Federation diplomat representatives." He gestured to the door with a smile. "Shall we."

Respectfully,
Andy

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET

USS FEYNMAN: Shopping

by Kristen Gant 12-23-1996

Stardate: 81223.1419
Scene: Epsilon
MD: 10.1800

"Krysa, do the staff of the FEYNMAN give each other presents?"

"To be honest, I don't know, Meleah. I only joined the FEYNMAN just after Christmas last year. I was able to spend Christmas on Earth with my family before I was assigned my orders on the FEYNMAN." Krysa told her. "Though only one of the senior officers is even Human. Though being born and raised on Earth, I must admit to feeling pretty Terran most of the time."

"Your family celebrated Christmas?"

"Oh, yes." Krysa grinned, "Though my father didn't see the point. However, my mother said that any holiday which supports peace and goodwill to men, should be celebrated, no matter what anyone's background. And it is such a festive, fun holiday."

"In that case, perhaps we should give the others a suitable gift."

"Like what?" Krysa couldn't think of anything at the moment that would be suitable for some of the officers.

Meleah thought for a few seconds. "I do not know," she admitted. "Perhaps we should think a little further on the subject. What do you think the Captain would like?"

Krysa was caught slightly off-guard with the innocent question. "I'm.. I'm not sure," she managed to say before recovering herself.

"I'm sure we will think of something," Meleah said confidently as she wandered over towards where a Ferengi trader was proudly boasting of his wares.

Krysa shrugged, she couldn't think of a single reason why they shouldn't. Besides even though shopping for oneself was extremely rewarding, shopping for someone else was even more so.

They had a grand time sorting through various artifacts and giving the Ferengi a hard time about his prices. The term 'pre-Christmas Sales' it appeared was not in his vocabulary.

Lt. Koreth was by far the easiest to find something for. It was Meleah who spotted the ceremonial dagger and questioned the merchant about it. When Krysa looked over she too was surprised as the inscription was written in ancient Betazoid of all things. Now the Betazoid people not being a normally violent people, were not known for their weaponry. The Ferengi touted it as being an extremely important piece, bearing a spiritual blessing of good luck and long life. Krysa laughed at the idea, but knowing Koreth's propensity toward Betazed food and most any kind of weaponry, decided that this was a perfect gift for the half-Klingon.

Finding something for Allard turned out to not be very difficult either as the two entered a costume shop and saw it on a mannequin standing in the back of the shop. They two women looked at each other and nodded. The merchant carefully folded and boxed the Green and beige Army fatigues, carefully placing the bright red beret right on top. Krysa thought the beret would look especially stunning on the CSO's rather shocking short white, blonde head.

In an old bookstore, Krysa came across on old text which she thought suitable for the bespectacled Dr. Glin'kharr. Meleah nodded her agreement as they purchased 'The Doctor's book of Home Remedies' circa 1980's Earth.

The FCO was a bit more difficult in that he kept so much to himself. But Meleah suggested perhaps a book on the history of flying. Krysa nodded and they began to scan the books. Teri knew so much about flying, that it was difficult to find something that he was unlikely to have already read. A odd shaped book caught her eye. She picked it up and laughed, "Meleah, do you think he's studied this?"

Meleah looked at the title of the Book, "I think that is highly unlikely." With that it was decided that 'How Pakleds made it into Space' was definitely the book for their well-read Lt. Jerran.

"Well that leaves our two senior officers and our newest crewmember." Krysa said. "I admit, I'm at a bit of a loss there. But do you know what might help me?"

"What is that?" Meleah asked.

"Something sinfully fattening," Krysa grinned and pulled Meleah toward the closest ice cream parlor.

Regards,
Lt. Krysa Jenn


NRPG: Okay I admit it. I wimped out! But I'm really out of idea .. Melanie, if you have any feel free to fill in the last three. Hope I did okay for the others :}

Well, I am off to pack and then I'm outa here til Thursday. Not much of a vacation but it'll do :}

Merry Christmas!

Kristen
--
Kristen & Scott Gant
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm

USS FEYNMAN: Orders, Maril's Evaluation & Thoughts

by Max Felsher 12-25-1996

SD 81225.2300

It was making a terrible discord... if as the Feynman slid into the Starbase Epsilon dock.

He would no longer be subject to the pressures of the mission, at least for a while. Of course, he was always glad to be back out in the unknown, but sometimes a break was called for.

"Well, we're home," the Captain said. As he headed into his Ready Room, he nodded to Maril.

"Alright, we're just manning Security, Ops, and the Conn while we're docked," Maril began. "The Captain has granted shore leave for the entire crew. You know the rules--no fights, no inappropriate behavior. I don't think that will be a problem with this crew, but I can assure you that, if you do anything like that, you will be dealt with faster than Exelin swung his sword." The crew smiled at the metaphor, and Maril continued. "Finish anything that needs to be done, and then you are dismissed."

At those words, the Bridge returned to the usual noises and chatter, with most of the officers leaving over time.

MD 10.1800
Lt. Commander Maril's Quarters

Maril ran his finger along the long edge of his bat'leth. He was not very proficient in its use, but he could fight with it, and that was all he wanted. He had been beaten in hand-to-hand combat in crucial situations before, and so he had started learning how to use the Klingon weapon.

Running his finger along it reminded him that he needed a better one. This one was replicated and was capable, but Maril knew, even with his small knowledge of hand-to-hand weapons, that the quality of replicated weapons was not exactly the best. Of course, he had used a replicated straight Terran-like sword that had been quite masterful--but of course it had been aided by the holodeck, since it was on a holodeck grid. That program had been a good one, and it had not been finished--perhaps he would go back to the program while they were still docked.

At any rate, those things could wait. He would be traveling around Epsilon tomorrow, and, if he saw a good bat'leth, he could get it. He also wanted to see if anyone else would be interested in going back to that program before he set it up again.

"Computer, play 'Kisa and Jibem at Imphero' by Resta Bermel, as fast as Asala's winds in winter...excuse me, 160 beats per minute."

<There is no such file in the Feynman database.>

"Search the Starbase's database."

<There is no such file in the Starbase Epsilon database.>

Maril shrugged. He would have to get some Tamarian music to put into the database. However, he still wanted to listen to something. He remembered having studied some Terran composers quite a while ago. He had liked one from Earth's nineteenth century called Chopin, in particular. He could not seem to remember the names of many of his pieces, however. Oh, well, he would just have to listen to the one he remembered.

"Computer, play 'Scherzo in C Sharp Minor' by Frederic Chopin, original speed."

Maril sat back and listened as the music played, and he remembered an incident from his youth. He had been trying to play a long Tamarian instrument called an Isker's Voice, and it was making a terrible racket....


MD 11.1600
Bridge

Maril finished explaining to Lt. Koreth what had happened for the previous shift--which was basically nothing--and then hurried to the aft turbolift.

"Counselor's Office." Maril sighed as the turbolift sped to its destination. His evaluation was finally upon him.

MD 11.1605
Counselor's Office

The doors slid open to reveal Ensign Landers sitting in a chair, reviewing a PADD. He immediately stood up and gestured towards another chair facing it. "Have a seat, Commander."

Maril sat down in the chair, and Landers then sat in his. Maril wondered what Landers was planning to ask.

The sun has met the sea,
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,
First Officer, USS Feynman,
aka Max Felsher

NRPG: Sort of an all-encompassing post, to try to bring Maril up to speed.

And made forward erly for to ryse,
To take our wey, ther as I yow devyse.
But natheles, whyl I have tyme and space,
Er that I ferther in this tale pace.

SB EPSILON Silver Tinsel Strands

by Mike Dawe 12-25-1996

SD: 81225

He felt like Scrooge but the shifts had to be worked. Fortunately the station had enough people of other races and religions that nobody who wanted to observe the season would be forced to work . . . except for one. He sat at a large desk and continued to compile reports and logs, briefings and debriefings, proposals and results, into that conglomeration of data known as a Year End Report. The Vice Admiral was not in a good mood. "Hrrrmf, no rest for the wicked then. Who's first?" It was the Andromeda. He knew he would owe Lars bigtime before the mission was over. Setting the Flagship on a towing assignment was like having a Galaxy class haul garbage. But the flag had to be waved and he needed a steady hand if Upshaw was in the neighbourhood. Latest reports had denezins of the nebula already making their presense felt and the Andromeda had met with some resistence already. He hoped that was an isolated incident and not a precursor to what was ahead.

Then came the Bismark. "I still don't like poaching in my fleet." He was sure that the CO of the Bismark was as ticked as could be, in her own way. Not that a Vulcan would show it. But he knew she would work around it and make the ship operate if he sent cadets and 'Wesleys'. "Due in any day now, I'll probably hear all about it when she gets here." At least he might be able to replace her CMO in short order. There was one due in soon and he hoped that this addition would temper the loss.

"EB? Why can't these ships have nice short monosyllabic names?" The ship had just left on a mission of rescue and mercy but Azariah still thought there was something fishy about it. He couldn't put his finger on it, just that the set-up felt like something was missing, a piece of the puzzle dragged off by the cat.

Cats. He sighed. Thinking of cats made him think of Cait and the fiasco ongoing down below. Fife and Canon of the Regent had done the best job of confirming that something was going on but then they hadn't gone down. Everybody that he sent down seemed to vanish. This was not like the peacefull Caitians nor was the referendum now going to vote in less than a month. If it passed the Federation presence could be asked to leave the station. This would mean a relocation of a major base, something the Vice Admiral did not relish. When his political analysts told him it was a distinct possibility he had despaired at the options available to him. He could disband Silver, something that the Fleet Command had been threatening since the destruction of the AWAD facility. But he was too old and attached to this command to let that happen without a fight.

The second option was only marginally better than the first. He could relocate to Zinderneuf and not split the Silver command. But that would mean working closely with Upshaw, a fate he did not want to tempt. So that left the third and final option. Find a new base facility for a starfleet presence in this sector.

Beta had been closed down when Gold Fleet lost funding but it would put them quite a distance from where the 'action' was. He wanted to be closer to the 'edge'. That is why he had ordered the sudden reactivation of Theta-6. It had meant reactivating Admiral Jeremiah Barnum for it but the growling he had done had been worth the price of admission already. "Growls more than those fuzzballs he calls dogs do." Azariah was jealous that he could not pursue his hobbies as easily as it seemed to come to others. He had to settle with his aroma collection and reading the trade journals of his other love. "Problem is whether there will be anything left of Theta for us to move into." And so the Saratoga was on its way to find out. Not even the CO knew why the base was being evaluated for reactivation after all this time, just that it was the mission of the day. He had to keep this under tight wraps or that 'Daddies little boy' might drop a note home and somehow screw up the works before the plan was even implimented. Having tread on a few toes Azariah knew how easily the favour could be returned.

Endeavour. Now that ship had gone through some major staffing changes but it looked like it was beginning to settle down into a cohesive unit if their performance hear on the base was any indicator. Azariah was not stupid and the loss of the logs for a specific security timeframe preceding the exit of the Endeavour spoke volumes without saying a word. He had made some discreet inquiries and a few threats to put the story together before smiling and erasng his own notes. Now if they managed this little coup of retreiving a CMO who was undercover deep in a foreign conference then his confidence level would be as high as it could go and he would again note the ship as one of his diplomatic elite forces.

Next came the Feynman. He smiled as he thought of the last time he had been aboard that ship. perhaps he should attend another one of its briefings if only to get some exercise. He wondered who would be making up the next setting for their briefing. The Feynman was in dock and he fought a temptation to duck out and add his own brand of holodeck programming to their mix.

The Vice Admiral had been in charge of programming the psych evaluations for the academy. From there he had moved on to the ALB where he would put the new graduates through the final wringer. He itched to make someone jump and have the holodeck his own personal kingdon once again. Azariah shook his head, there was the road to areas of his past he preferred left buried. But the return of Cardiff on the Saratoga, Upshaw on the Andromeda, and Hisstare hanging about were ghosts of that past that would not stay buried.

Again the shaggy head of grey shook and he tried to focus on his work one more time. He had to get this done soon before McDaniels showed up. That Doctor could convince the devil to pray. Azariah looked across the room at the pile of clothes in the corner and snorted. "I don't know how I get roped into these things."

Hawking. Now that one was a mystery. Since the change in command little had been heard from her. He made a mental note to touch base with her soon and find out if all was on the up and up. He refused to have another ship vanish into the night.

Pearson. Just returned from a failed diplomatic trip to Arcturus. At least it was failed form the viewpoint of most participants. But not by Starfleet diplomatic corps. Azariah had not approved of the orders but was not able to pull enough strings to stop them. It was bad faith to pretend to open negotiations with no expectation of their being completed. Arcturus was isolated and struggling to heal, th last thing it needed was false friends. But that is what Fleet had ordered and that is what Arcturus got. Azariah made a mental note to keep an eye on the beleagured little planet. He owed it to the former CINCWHITE, to the Pearson, and to his own conscience.

Then came the Regent. Admiral Nicholas smiled softly. He and Fife had been at odds right from the start and it did not look like it would end anytime soon. But that was as it should be, the Captain had been booted up the ranks far too fast and needed some sort of reality check. As this was passing through the Admiral mind his own personal reality check arrived. The Selay glided across the room and read over the Vice Admirals shoulder. "hI ssssee hyou hare ssstill working hupon the hYear hEnder."

"Stop hissing in my ear you ambulatory suitcase. I'm almost done." A meaty hand brushed behind him waving the Academician back.

"The Regent ssshould be heassssy to write for. hA mad sssceme that ssshouldn't work performed in a combat zone with a madcap group flying cover for han huntesssted new ssship. hWhat could possssibly go wrong?"

"Well when you put it like that it seems so much easier, doesn't it?" Azariah glared at the Selay and tapped his PADD fitfully.

"hI call them asss hI sssee them." A scaled hand held up in a gesture of defence or protest. "But hyou don't sssee it that hway, do hyou?"

"No, I think they have the mission that that ship and crew deserve. They always seem to fall into the manure and come out riding the pony. Far be it from me to give them a cake walk, they wouldn't know what to do with it."

"hAs hyou sssay. But they are hadapted to that sssort hof missssion for a reassson."

"Because I need a ship that can do it quick and dirty. Now shut up, I have official lies to write."

"hNot hright now. hIt his time." Hisstare held up the red jacket and tossed the pants across the desk.

"Hrrmf, I still don't believe I am doing this." Azariah fastened the beard on with the supplied glue and adjusted the small mirror on is desk to admire his handywork. "Pass me the cushion."

"hIf hyou keep avoiding hour exercissse next year hyou won't need hone."

"Shut up." This came from a slightly jolly old soul in reds that were the one kind you could beam down in and be sure of coming back. "If it were not for the fact that this was for the childrens ward . . . "

"hYou'd ssstill do hit. Don't try to play the meanie hwith me. hI have been here from the firssst."

'If I could figure out a way to make you an elf you'd be along for this ride. Azariah to transporter room five. Engage program Santa 1." And the Selay heard, as the Admiral vanished into the lights a swirling. "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

The room was silent for a moment then with a hiss the Selay let himself out. As he stood silhouetted in the doorway he whispered. "God blessss ussss, heveryone." The door irised shut leaving the room lit only by the starlight spilling in through the windows that covered the walls.

<<<nrpg>>>

I wish to extend to all my ships and their crew the best of the season(s).

You are an extended family to me even if you seldom hear from me other than now. Think of this as the card you get once a year from the cousin whose face you can barely remember. Your CO's and FO's are more familiar with me (although they probably won't admit it in public)

The above was a quick snapshot of the SILVER fleet. Apologies to those on multiple lists who got this several times. If something here intersts you and you want to find out what is going on on other ships ask and I will forward your requests to the appropriate CO and ship.

Warning: If you reply to this be sure to reply to just me, no sense in sending this to all the fleet just to say what a complete dolt I am for the numerous typos I am sure abound above.

Again: My best to you and yours.

mike--->having just finished wrapping the last present, bed for a few hours before the daughter proves roosters are way to slow on the draw.

Vice Admiral Azariah Nicholas CINCSILVER
Captain Christof Fife USS REGENT
GM USS SARATOGA
Lt. Cmdr Eskat Eskat USS HERMES
Lt James Cardiff USS SARATOGA

USS FEYNMAN: Quiet Thoughts

by Andrew Catterick 12-26-1996

SD: 81226.0930
MD: 8.1600
Scene: Captain's Quarters

Zane leaned back into his highback chair and stared out the large bay window which encompassed most of his quarters. With the Issahi delegation safely, and truth be known, thankfully, deposited into the laps of SILVER's diplomatic corp he had retired to his office to finish off the standard post-mission reports as well as informing intel of a possible security breach that the Issahi had tapped. But as often was the case when the FEYNMAN was in port he found himself staring out the window much more than staring at his computer screen.

For someone who had been in Starfleet for a number of years, indeed someone who had been born on a Starfleet vessel and collectively raised by her crew most would think the sight of a starship would be second nature, something in the background. But not for Zane. To him a spaceship was a thing of beauty. He liked nothing better than to quietly sit, the lights dimmed, and just watch them. Tracing their lines, day dreaming about their missions, feeling that surge of excitement as impulse engines glowed to life and the ship proudly left its protective confines to see 'what was out there'. It was a long held tradition in the navy to think of one's ship as an entity, something that lived and protected you. Zane *knew* it wasn't merely tradition it was reality. Absent mindedly his hand stroked the wall beside him. "Good girl." He whispered.

<<Ship time is 16:15>> The computer suddenly stated in its neutral voice. For a moment Zane thought the ship had answered him but the fantasy quickly dissolved away in to the mundane remberence that he had set an alarm. A frown crossed his face. He was not looking forward to his private counselling session with the new CNS. He wondered idly as to the possibilites of a red alert while in space-dock. Briefly scanning his notes on the computer to make sure he had not left off in the middle of some brilliant thought he punched the save key. Actually, despite all the day-dreaming, he had completed a fair amount of work. The mission report was complete and he had read those filed by his officers. He had scheduled an appointment with the admiral's office for two days from now. And he had even spent an hour arguing with an operations lieutenant over the fate of his crew on the Husnock vessel. He had managed to find out that the rescue mission was complete and that the Husnock ship was speeding towards EPSILON, its crew safe and sound. But even with his security clearance he was unable to find out anything about the TESLA or her crew. Such secrecy probably meant there were few if any survivors.

<<Ship time is 16:16>> The computer said as if smugly reminding him of his upcoming session in purgatory.

"Acknowledged." He replied as he stood and turned for the door.

<<<NRPG>>>

Okay Kevin take it away. As I said before, Zane has the greatest respect for a CNS and his/her duties aboard a starship but he himself is not big on the psycho-analytical 'stuff' when used on *him*. He won't be hostile or anything like that...just, well not exactly on his list of fun things to do. Have fun I'm looking forward to reading it!

Respectfully,
Andy

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET

USS FEYNMAN: Allard's Evaluation

by Michael "Mike" Dailey 12-27-1996

Stardate: 81227.1730
Scene: Holodeck 1
MD: 9.0715

J.C. stepped into the Holodeck. The familiar yellow and black grid was present as was the counselor.

"Good, Lt. Allard. You made it and on time. I personally thought I was going to be late."

J.C. did a mental double-take at the CNS comment, barely being on-time himself. He knew he was going to dread this meeting, for most Doctors made the CSO feel quite uncomfortable, especially 'head-doctors' as J.C. so often termed them.

Allard noticed that the counselor's blond hair was sort of mussed up and his uniform was slightly crumpled. Obviously the new counselor wasn't a morning person either.

"I figured we could kill two birds with one stone," said Loren as he tossed Allard a Phaser. "I knew I'd have to qualify with one of these things before long."

J.C. reached out and caught the flying MARK-V Phaser in mid-air, silently cursing himself for not grabbing his personal sidearm before leaving his quarters. Turning slowly to the new CNS, J.C. looked as though he would tear the head off of Landers, but deep down, was using the anger to hide the fear that enveloped him at the thought of someone inside his mind.

Allard's expression went from a somewhat blank stare to one of slight anger. "Counselor, have you been reading my thoughts?" he barked with a noticeable edge in his voice, perhaps sounding more angry than he should have.

Being esper-blind, the Counselors and Doctors at the Academy had a field day putting J.C. through series after grueling series of tests, which determined his psi-rating to be zero. They had said he was 'not unlike a radio that could neither transmit nor receive.'

Still, the idea of someone inside his head, mind-melds and the like terrified the young officer.

"Lt., I assure you that I have not." Now there was an edge in Loren's voice as he stared intently at the CSO, his large dark Betazoid eyes seeming ready to swallow the CSO. Even though he could not read anything mentally from J.C., simple body language showed how defensive Allard had become.

"Reading another's thoughts against their will is a repugnant idea to me. Ship's protocol would dictate that I would have to qualify with one of these. I just kept receiving the 'impression' that you were very anxious to get it over with. Besides, I really need to get requalified with a phaser again," Loren finally added as a smile spread across his face.

"Sorry counselor, but I had to ask." said J.C., sounding less defensive than a moment ago, making both feel more at ease. Staring at Loren, J.C. wondered about the true extent of the counselor's abilities. He sounded sincere and truthful, and besides, at this point Landers would gain nothing from deceiving him.

"Not a problem Lt. Would you care to step up on the platform."

Allard stepped up on the firing platform next to Ens. Landers and readied his Phaser. A few beeps later, it was ready as was he.

"Computer begin standard Phaser qualification test. Two participants, and record for Ens. Loren Landers," said the CSO.

Loren and Allard stood back to back on the platform as holographic discs began flying across the room. Loren began nailing the blue discs as Allard annihilated the red ones.

"Mr. Landers," said J.C. "I was impressed with the way you and Mr. T'Boc used your abilities to help us down on the Reaver Base." The sudden thought of the Reavers sent another fear-driven chill down J.C.'s spine. He would rather face a squad of Borg than one Reaver. Glancing at Loren, J.C. tried to judge the CNS's response.

"Lieutenant, I try to use my 'abilities' so help in anyway I can. After all, that's the idea of being a counselor, isn't it?" said Landers. *Touche, Allard, J.C. thought, This guy IS good.*

"Sir, I do like to relax. You can call me Loren if you prefer," said Landers. J.C. glances at the young and handsome CNS. *Come on, be friends with the guy. Remember how you felt when your were posted to the FEYNMAN, for what seemed a lifetime ago was a mere six months.* True, protocol while not entirely lax, was not strict by-the-book here on the FEYNMAN either.

"Very well, Loren." said J.C. He waited, deciding whether or not to extend the same courtesy Loren had. J.C. taking careful aim for the next round, J.C. decided to wait and get to know the green Ensign a little better.

The two men had progressed to level two when Loren spoke. "Lt., I've never really had a family or any who has really cared about me. How does it feel to have lost a loved one, someone like your wife for instance?"

Justin squeezed his phaser grip harder so as not to drop it on the Holodeck floor. *This guy is full of surprises,* though J.C. Whirling around yet again to face the CNS, J.C. glared at the him,

"ENSIGN, I...". J.C. started, but changed his tone. He hadn't really talked to anyone after Wendy, his wife of three months, had died in a ground car accident. Immediately after, he applied to Starfleet, and from then on had been to busy.

"Loren, I apologize for my temper. It's just I began thinking about Wendy, my mom, and my grandmother all at once. I guess all of the Allard women in my family are, in some way, gone from my life." said the CSO. Loren holstered his sidearm, and looked into J.C.'s deep blue eyes. He recalled reading J.C. service record, about the terrible death of his wife, the separation of his parents, and his Grandmother being stationed on one of Starfleet's most remote bases.

"I really feel alone sometimes. I mean, I still write and talk to my friends, my grandparents, and my brothers and Father back on Earth. But..." J.C. stopped, unsure how to continue...

"Mr. Allard, remember, you're part ot the biggest family in the Federation; Starfleet. We all have a special bond to one another, not only through duty, but through the respect and care we have for each other." said Loren. Thinking back to the fun and, bit of trouble J.C. and his fellow Cadets had at Starfleet Academy, brought a smile to the CSO's face.

Grabbing his sidearm, J.C. turned to face the test area, "ready to finish, Loren?" asked J.C. The CNS stood, removing his own MARK-V from his holster.

"Yes, Sir." replied Loren. J.C. regarded Loren for a moment. Standing stiff, his best mocking impression of an Academy drill instructor, J.C. barked a firm order, or at least tried to...

"While we're off duty, that's J.C. to you, MR!", then relaxed and broke into a smile.

"By the way," said J.C. "I haven't had time to review your record yet. What was your best academy score," asked J.C. While regulations required a level-6 score or better to qualify, J.C.'s best had been an 8.5. Lieutenant Meleah, of course, held the FEYNMAN's and Starfleet's top score of level 12, a mere coincidence that the training program only contained 12 levels.

"Not as good as I would have liked." said Loren. "I can never seem to get past a level-9 score." J.C. winced slightly, and could have swore he seen Loren wink at him...

J.C. took aim, determined to get a level-10.

Submitted,
Mike Dailey
Splatter2@qtm.net

Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant Commander [Retired] Jordon Kabreigny - UNASSIGNED GREEN FLEET

=======
= NRPG =
=======

Hello all. Kevin, work in anything you want to. This isn't my best work, but I'm kinda pressed for time and didn't want to be the last to finish his little meeting.

Since the 'girls' are going shopping, perhaps you would like to join J.C. at the 'wall' on EPSILON. It's a nice, quiet place, relaxing atmosphere. I'm sure we could have a little 'fun'. You too, Jason - Tarrant is invited also.

USS FEYNMAN: The Walk

by Andrew Catterick 12-28-1996

Stardate: 81228.0930
Scene: CNS's Office
MD: 8.1616

The door chime rang again as it had many times already the past few days. "Come." Loren already knew who it was and had been expecting him, but not without a fight. Loren hadn't heard of many CO's coming to a counselor's session without persistant reminders by the counselor.

Captain Zane of the USS FEYNMAN walked slowly into the room. Glancing around he noticed the sparseness of the room's decor. "Not much on decorum are we counselor."

"Not much on having any possessions since the Reavers blew up my d-warp shuttle, Captain."

"I see."

"Well we'll be in port for at least 48 hours so you should have ample time to do a little shopping. Actually with your possessions being destroyed during 'the pursuit of your duty' you should stop by the QM's office on EPSILON. Have you ever met our Quarter-Master, Commander Branno?"

"No sir, I'm afraid I didn't really have time to meet anyone on the base."

"Thats too bad, Commander Branno is quite a character. Just make up a list of what you need and I'm sure she'll take care of you right away." Zane smiled pleasantly trying his best to block out any thoughts of the *real* Commander Branno. If the CNS could drop him in rollerblades as a learning experience then he could certainly return the favour. Besides, Loren was one of the crew now and that meant he was fair game for the occaisional joke.

For his part, Loren looked somewhat suspiciously at his new CO. He sounded sincere but he had thought he had noted a whiff of revenge. "I would offer you a seat Captain, but I'd hoped you would be willing to take a walk with me first."

<<<SNIP>>>

On deck 14, Zane finally decided to break the silence.

"You being very quiet for a counselor, ensign."

"Yes, sir, I know. I generally prefer for people to tell me what's on their mind. I find that listening rather than me running my mouth asking lots of questions is better for some. In short my tactics adjust for whomever I'm dealing with at the moment."

"And so for me, your tactics call for a walk through my ship, where you simply stand quietly and listen. That's it?"

"Actually, sir, my tactics call for me to listen...and for you to talk. We've been kinda short on the latter for a while now."

"True." Zane replied wondering what there was to talk about. He certainly wasn't going to be bringing up any innermost thoughts, at least voluntarily, especially out on the deckway. He had also decided to do both him and the CNS a favour by not dwelling on either's career. They had both read each other's bio. "Well then I'm on R&R right now so what do you say to a drink in 10-Forward?"

Loren smiled. "It sounds...relaxing." He turned to move towards the turbolift.

"Uh ensign..." Zane jabbed a thumb towards a nearby access hatch. "Its only four decks."

_______________
Scene: 10-Forward

The two men sat at a table enjoying a cool drink. Before the silence could get a firm grasp Loren broke it. "I've noticed that you spend alot of time in 10-Forward. Is that your usual habit?"

"I've never really thought of it. But yes I guess it is. I eat most of my meals here and I try to spend some of my offtime here, actually I occasionally even write reports over by the main window."

"Why is that?"

"Well why not?"

"No reason, its just some captains prefer to remain at a certain distance from their crew. But one thing I've noticed is that you don't. Your the captain but your also one of the crew...if that makes any sense?"

"It does because thats the way it is. Its not that I try to be that, that I ever made a conscious decision. It just developed that way. I am very comfortable with those aboard and I hope they feel the same."

"But some would say that for a military vessel to function optimally there has to be a certain detachment, a certain feel of protocol."

"Well that is true, and after some more time here you'll see that we do have that decorom, that protocol. To a degree. But...well I look at it this way, I am no better than anyone on this ship. Everyone has their own strengths and their own weakness and they all balance out. We all have a job to do and the FEYNMAN could not function as well as it does if any one of those parts was not there. Whether it be the CEO, the crewman in disposal or the captain. So why remove myself from anyone, put myself in the ivory tower? I'm very proud of everyone on this ship and I thank the gods they are here. And when you have that sort of a feeling with your crew it is only natural that you think of them as friends. Its important for me that they know I am approachable that we are all an eual team regardless of position."

<<<NRPG>>>

Not the direction I had orginally planned it just kinda wrote itself. Haven't decided if I necessarily like it but I'm off to work.

Kevin:Feel free to continue, or delve deeper. As for the QM, Zane has had several run-ins with her over destroyed shuttle craft. She does not like to part with anything as she sees all SILVER equipment/vessels as her own personal property. She thinks Zane keeps losing shuttles through negligence but she can't prove it...consequently she hates him. Did I mention Zane and Bat stole a shuttle from her? I won't even mention what Jerran did.;)


Respectfully,
Andy

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET

USS FEYNMAN: Maril's Evaluation

by Max Felsher 12-28-1996

SD: 81228

"What prompted you to join up with us rather than continuing to serve your people?"

Maril was taken aback by this question. Others had questioned his ability, his drive, and his leadership qualities, but, after he had made the decision, no one had asked him why. Still, he had had a reason.

He took a deep breath and smiled. "I'm not quite sure. I am still a Tamarian at heart...."

"I don't think anything could change that," Loren commented.

"...and I still think of Tamarians as my people. While Earth is an interesting planet--I lived there for six years--Motuxi is still my home; my family and everything I knew before I went to the English Language School and Starfleet Academy is there. I think that most of the members of the Federation and the Tamarians share a similar exploratory spirit...."

"Yes....'

"...but I think perhaps I came to the Federation because here not only could I explore planets and nebulae and warp physics--I could do all of that on a Tamarian ship--but I could also explore those outside the Tamarian civilization while working alongside them. Of course, on a Tamarian ship, I could visit Starfleet ships and talk to those aboard. However, it would not have been the same as being on the ship, working with Federation officers--and being one of them. And I have learned quite a bit," Maril smiled at the last remark. "So, I suppose I did it because I wish to explore, and this gives me the opportunity even when I am just walking in the corridors."

Landers nodded thoughtfully. "But why Starfleet...why not the Klingons or the Cardassians, if you wanted to explore?

"I think the answer is obvious, Ensign. Not only is the Federation probably closest in philosophies to the Tamarians--I wouldn't be able to work with Cardassians, or Klingons, as well, I think--but the variety is much greater. On a Klingon ship, I doubt you have many non-Klingons. On the Feynman, we must have tens, if not hundreds, of different species aboard. Just look at the senior officers. You have one human, two Betazoids, a half-human/half-Klingon, a half-Bajoran/half-Vulcan, one android, one Kar'llian, one Tamarian, and one officer of unkown species. That variety can not be found with any other institution."

MD 11.1630
Gymnasium

"Of course. I would like to get the exercise. I have had few real opponents, and I would enjoy seeing where I stand."

"Very well, then, sir. Let us begin."

With that, Landers stepped back and held the bat'leth in a defensive position. "SuH?" he uttered.

"SuH!" Maril replied back, pulling back into a slightly different position.

As the two circled around each other, Maril did not notice the walls of the gymnasium any more. Soon, the mats and any other officers disappeared as well. It was only Landers and he, turning themselves around to catch an apparent weakness in the other.

"Miraven at Sigal!" Maril cried as he stepped towards Landers and brought the weapon towards him with a cut to the left.

Landers blocked the slash with skill--and the inner curve of his bat'leth--and brought the lower end up towards Maril's chin, under Maril's own bat'leth! Maril was trapped--if he did not move, Landers would hit him in the chin, or knock his bat'leth away; if he did, he would actually bring Landers's own weapon closer to his chin.

Maril settled on Choice 3--the unexpected move. He ducked back from Landers's bat'leth, at the same time letting go of his own with his left hand and regripping in the middle with his right. He then quickly pulled the weapon away, leaving Landers with a bunch of air to hit and in a more vulnerable position to Maril's attack.

That attack came in the form of a cut from over the top. Landers quickly moved the bat'leth to block, and he successfully stopped Maril's blow. He then proceeded to make a sweeping cut towards Maril's midsection, catching Maril off guard.

Maril, however, was quick enough to dodge out of the way of the weapon's arc; and the two went back to attacking and blocking, back and forth, across their unnoticed environment.

After they had continued this for a few moments, Maril saw his chance. He shifted the bat'leth into his left hand and suddenly launched a sweeping cut to Landers's feet.

Landers quickly jumped over the blade, but Maril regrabbed with his right hand and readied for a quick stab.

The Counselor ducked out of the way, but just barely. Maril then deftly brought the lower end of his bat'leth up to Landers's throat, poised to attack.

Landers sighed. "jIjegh"

Maril lowered the weapon and extended his hand. "Thank you, Ensign."

Landers smiled. "No, thank you, Commander."

The sun has met the sea,
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,
First Officer, USS Feymnan,
aka Max Felsher

NRPG:
Well, I think that wraps it up for Maril's evaluation, unless you want to write something else, Kevin.

I'm really sorry, but could everyone send me the rotation for your department for the next mission? I seem to have lost the last information.

USS FEYNMAN: You Knew It Would Happen (AKA: The Brawl)

by Kristen Gant 12-31-1996

Stardate: 81231.2033
Scene: The Wall
MD: 10.1900

Krysa and Meleah approached the door to the 'Wall', and entered. After adjusting to the light, Krysa spotted J.C. and Loren talking to some other Starfleet officers.

Turning to Lt. Meleah, Krysa pointed them out, "Look, there they are." She stopped as Meleah shoved her out of the path of a chair that flew right towards them....

Catching her breath as her heart beat loudly in her chest, Krysa said, "I hope our guys didn't start that."

"I wouldn't count on it," said a familiar voice behind her. The two women spun to see Bat followed by three of the junior officers from the FEYNMAN. Bat was grinning, "Now this is 'The Wall'!"

The aging bartender headed deeper into the bar. Krysa rolled her eyes, "Bat!" she called. Meleah followed him and Krysa's eyes widened further, "Meleah!" The bartender and the android continued walked, and Krysa turned to the three men behind her. They all stood looking at each other.

"Damn!" said one, "There goes my next promotion!"

"I'd be more concerned about your life right now," Krysa murmured. Then took a step back to avoid a man to sprawling on the floor in front of her.

"Why you ..!" the man growled and jumped up to rush the man who had caused his fall.

With a big sigh, Krysa ducked further into the bar, sidestepping yet another brawling pair. As she drew near to where the other FEYNMAN officers were she spotted a very large man pounding on Lt. Allard's face. Moving quickly, Krysa grabbed a nearby bar stool and swung. The man stopped for a moment before falling over onto the floor.

Allard looked up a Krysa. He had an eye that was already beginning to swell, "Thank you, Lt." he said with a crooked grin. Krysa frowned, "Just tell me *you* didn't start this!"

"Of course not," Allard said. Then he yelled, "Duck!" Krysa didn't have to be told twice as she quickly collapsed to the floor and JC jumped up and grabbed a man with an ugly looking, broken bottle.

That woulda hurt, Krysa thought watching JC struggle with the attacker. Crawling on her hands and knees on the sticky floor, Krysa moved under a table searching out the other FEYNMAN officers.

Regards,
Lt. Krysa Jenn


NRPG: Well, Krysa really hates fighting, but she does know how to wield a bar stool! Well, there's my contribution to the mess. I'm thinking that Zane is probably standing just outside the bar looking in in shock!! Hehe, but Krysa didn't notice him, so I'll leave it to someone else too :}

Kristen
--
Kristen & Scott Gant
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm

USS FEYNMAN: A Welcome Diversion

by Andrew Catterick 12-31-1996

SD:81231.1800
MD:10.1905
Scene: Market Level

Zane walked down the corridor of the market level engrossed in his lucky find. He'd read the book countless times but the thrill of finding a long sought treasure added a certain allure making the experience seem like a new one. He was so engrossed in fact that as he walked past the infamous Wall he failed to take note of the turmoil inside. Not even the screams of flying patrons was enough to stir him from his reading. What did prove to be successful however was the Starfleet officer who came crashing through the large pane of glass that was the Wall's main window, landing at his feet. Thankfully it was not a FEYNMAN crew member but the body that crashed through the remaining glass seconds later was. "Chief!"

MCPO Larocque shook his head for a moment and then realized who was kneeling over him. "There's a bunch of us in there...they're going to need help." The captain's aide began to get to his feet helping the officer beside him.

A jumble of emotions ran through Zane and he settled on the one most appealing. He jerked a thumb towards the raging brawl and addressed both. "We go in and we get Starfleet out...before the marines get here." That wouldn't leave them much time.

As they charged into the fray Zane shouted at Mike. "Where are they?"

"Back corner." Mike answered ducking in time to miss catching a bottle in the face. Zane nodded and then charged into the melee. He made it about five feet before running in to his first obstacle, an overly large Nasican who was holding a Starfleet officer by the neck and shaking him like a ragdoll. He grabbed a chair and smashed it over the Nacsican's back. It was enough of a blow to make him drop the officer but little else. He quickly spun around to face Zane who had just as quickly picked up a leg from the broken chair. The captain struck first, smashing the weapon into the Nascian's jaw and shattering it. In response the Nascian picked up Zane and raised him over his head. With a scream of rage he tossed Zane deeper into the brawl. As he came crashing down his one consoling thought was that at least he was making progress.

Lying on his back on the beer soaked floor he now became the victim of a variety of kicks and stomps by the patrons his flight had rudely interrupted. Struggling to his feet, stunned by the blows he felt someone grab him and call out his name. Soon a grinning face was staring at his. "Bat?"

"Having fun Z? Duck!" As his reflexes followed the order Bat struck out at the Orion who had had been planning on breaking yet another chair over someone's head. Not expecting the punch he crumpled to the floor. "C'mon! What are you lagging behind for the rest of us are over here."

The two punched and lunged their way through the crowd to find a small circle of FEYNMAN and Starfleet officers engaged with a variety of lifeforms from across the galaxy. As they reached them the whistles of approaching marines could be heard. Zane tried to shout to the group in general but had a fist stuffed into his face for his trouble. He rammed the chair leg into the stomach of his attacker who bent over from the blow. A quick raised knee to the face left him unconscious on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he watched with admiration as Meleah grabbed two Klingons and smashed them together. The look of complete indifference on her face triggered a laugh. He hadn't had this much fun since he was a lieutenant.

Grabbing the closest body to him he waded into the thick of the fight.

<<<NRPG>>>

Just because Zane wants everyone out before the marines arrive doesn't mean that is what will actually happen;) Maybe our next mission could be escaping from the drunk-tank

Respectfully,
Andy-->Not one to miss a good fight

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET

USS FEYNMAN: Oh, no! Not the Wall! (Second Try)

by Michael "Mike" Dailey 12-31-1996

Stardate: 81229.1408
Scene: Epsilon
MD: 10.1835

Stepping out of the docking tube and onto Epsilon, the two FEYNMAN officers nodded to the base security officer standing guard. More of a tradidion than necessity, ship 'in-port' were given an honor-guard by the Marines on-post. This one, however, seemed like he was due for a nap.

The CSO rolled hiseyes, and briefly contemplated the 'chewing-out' he would give the officer had he been under his command.

J.C. Allard and Loren Landers continued on through EPSILON to the lift that would take them to the Market Level.

"It feels good to have some time away from the FEYNAMN," said J.C. They entered the lift.

"I know." said Landers, "I've finally finished the Senior Staff meetings. I have to admit, the FEYNMAN is a diverse bunch."

"Yeah, that would be one word for us," grinned the CSO. The lift deposited them onto the Market Level of EPSILON, the area where one could find exotic shopes with practically any merchandise you could want, for a price of course. The many restaurants and cafe's emitted smells from the cuisenes of cultures throughout the Federation.

"This is my first time really exploring EPSILON," said J.C. "When I was first posted to the FEYNAMN, I reported immediately."

"Same for me," said Loren. They passed the 'NaDev NuqDaq, a place not known for it's service, but delicious Klingon cuisene. Pausing in front, Loren inhaled some aroma. J.C. could not place it, but it reminded the CSO of something stale and burning.

"How about a bite to eat, J.C.?". Allard grimmaced, never one for Klingon dishes.

"I don't know... there is a really good Italian place...." said J.C. trying to lure the counselor into a more palatable meal.

"Come on. Try it." grudgingly, the J.C. gave it. Half hour later, both FEYNMAN officers emerged.

"Well, that was good! I'm stuffed." said Loren. He looked over at his friend, who was a bit pale and green at the same time.

"Yeah, Loren. I'm stuffed too! I need a drink". said J.C. "Let's go check out this 'Wall' place I've heard so much about."

"OK, J.C.," said Loren. They maneuvered the corridors, through various shops. Once, making a wrong turn, a Ferengi trader set them back on the right way, eyeing the Starfleet officers suspiciously. Both J.C. and Loren gave each other an 'I-don't-know' shrug.

Finally reaching the entrance of the 'Wall', the cargo-bay type door slid open at their approach. Stepping in, J.C. noted how dark it was, and closed his eyes momentarily to help adjust. They found a table, and each got a drink from the actual 'wall'. While it was not busy this time of day, they were conscious of various pairs (and sets) of eyes on the only two uniformed officers in the place.

"Nice place, huh?" commented Loren.

"Yeah. Great atmosphere." Moments later, a welcome site of three Starfleet base officers entered. Loren and J.C. nodded to the newcomers, who took a table on the other side of the bar.

"When I get back onboard I need to spend some time writing to my family in friends, "said J.C. "I'm horrible when it comes to writing letters."

"You brothers and Father are all on Earth," asked Loren.

"Yeah. And then there's..." J.C. stopped quite suddenly, his mouth accidentally agape from the last word. Staring at the doors. Loren turned to see what the CSO was looking at. Two more Starfleet Officers had entered, two Lieutenants, neither of which the counselor recognized. Clearly, however, J.C. did.

On making eye contact with the FEYNMAN CSO, the two sauntered over to their table, "Well, well. Look what we have here, a couple of misfits." said one of them to his comrade. "They must be from the GREY fleet.!" and both burst out laughing.

"Have you been out of the Academy so long, Lt. JUNIOR GRADE Allard, that you forgot protocol!". said the loud and obnoxious one. Slowly, J.C. stood, and motioned for Landers to do likewise. The newcomer making a point of him being a full Lieutenant, outranking both J.C. and Loren.

"Ensign Loren Landers, this is LIEUTENANT David Russo." Russo thumped J.C. on the back, almost knocking the CSO over.

"Yes, we're OLD friends." said Russo. Looking at Landers, Russo continued,"I was Allard's FAVORITE upperclassmen. We had some good times at the ACADEMY!" He let out an evil-sounding laugh, a laugh that brought back bits of his Academy life J.C. would have liked to forget. Sitting back down, Russo and his companion planted themselves, uninvited, in chairs at their table.

"Loren, what the LIEUTENANT means is that while we attended the Academy, Russo was in charge of making my life a living hell".

"Oh, you enjoyed it J.C." sneered Russo.

Nudging his companion, Russo snickered,"So I didn't know the GREY fleet had officers here on EPSILON. Carter and I just got on leave from the BISMARK. So, what garbage ship are you two on.?" asked Russo. J.C. clenched his fists.

Loren spoke up, "Lieutenant J.G. Allard and myself are NOT in the GREY fleet. We're stationed on the FEYNMAN." said Loren bluntly. It didn't take an empath to sense the emotional restraint J.C. was holding onto.

Carter growled, "Who asked you, Doctor!" Loren still being in his blue uniform.

"Ah, the FEYNMAN." said Russo, "that's the ship with the changling Captian."

"CAPTAIN ZANE is not a changeling!" shouted Loren, perhaps a bit too loud.

"Allard, seems your little friend here is quite the boisterous one!" said Russo. "No matter, the likes of you will end up in GREY sooner or later." Russo and Carter burst out laughing , and again thumped J.C. on the back.

"Come on, Allard, cheer up! You have to have a sense of humor working on the FUNNYMEN!..."

Krysa and Meleah stepped out of the sundae shop and continued on their way down the marketplace. Krysa spotted a cute little accessories shop and was about to point it out when Meleah spoke up, "I think that is our CSO over there."

Krysa looked over and saw the unmistakable white blonde cropped hair of Lt. Allard across the way from them. "I think you're right. Good eyes, Meleah!"

Meleah looked at her, "My eyes are functioning at optimum levels."

Krysa grinned, "That's what I said. He's not alone either. I do believe that is our newest crewmember with him."

"Where do you suppose they are going?"

Krysa watched as they headed down a darkened corridor toward the seedier side of the station. "I would venture a guess, they're headed to 'The Wall'."

"I thought you told me that was not a place that welcomed Starfleet officers."

"It's not," Krysa said. She sighed, "But obviously our menfolk don't care about that."

Meleah turned and headed off in the direction they had seen the two men go. Krysa grabbed her arm, "Where are you going?"

"It is likely that they will need our help." Meleah said.

"Are you crazy. You don't want to go in there."

"You can wait here for me. I just want to make sure they are safe." Krysa groaned, "Well, I can't let you go alone."

Meleah shrugged, "I am much more equipped to deal with trouble then you are, Krysa."

"Probably," Krysa agreed, "but what fun is shopping all alone. They will be fine. Let's finish our shopping, then join them!"

"Very well," acknowledged Meleah.

Meleah and Krysa watched the new counselor and CSO enter the Wall. Kyrsa detoured the female-duo into a small antique book shope adjacent to the Wall. About fifteen minutes later, the two emerged, with three old books in-hand. Kyrsa enjoying here find like a child with an ice-cream sundae.

They approached the door to the 'Wall', and entered. After adjusting to the light, Kyrsa spotted J.C. and Loren talking to some other Starfleet officers.

Turning to Lt. Meleah, Kyrsa pointed them out, "Look, there they are." She stopped as Meleah shoved her out of the path of a chair that flew right towards them....

Submitted, Mike Dailey Splatter2@qtm.net Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL SILVER FLEET
Lieutenant Commander Jordon Kabreigny - CNS - USS BURKE GREEN FLEET

=======
= NRPG =
=======

Hello all! I had in mind the scuffle scene from TOS Trouble with Tribbles, Kevin, add anything you want, Kris and Company to our rescue!?!?!?

Jason - I wasn't sure if you were going to join us or not, but you can still write Tarrant in...

Have a fun, HAPPY, and *SAFE* new years eve.!!!

USS FEYNMAN: Convergence

by Andrew Catterick 12-31-1996

SD:81231.1300
MD:10.1700
Scene:Captain's Quarters

"Come." Zane said over his shoulder to the door as he looked into the mirror, a final check.

"Well, well, well. Big night out on the town?" Bat asked as he and his 3 companions entered the cabin and noted Zane's tuxedo.

Turning to face them, he moved over to one of the room's chairs and sat down to slip on his shoes. "Thought I might splurge a little. Its been awhile since I've actually done anything on a layover. I see you four are dressed for a little carousing. Not the Wall again?"

The three younger men laughed nervously remembering Zane's anger the last time they had been to the Wall and then got up close and personal with several of the bar's patrons - in the base's drunk tank. "There are several bars on our agenda but don't worry the boys have not let me talk them into going to the Wall...yet." Bat replied.

"You three are on your time," The captain rose, "but see that he doesn't succeed."

A chorus of yessir was interrupted by the bartender. "So are you going to keep us in suspense? What are the fancy digs for? Hot date? Second job as a waiter?"

"I thought I might try my luck in the casino this evening." He said with a smile "So if you'll excuse me there is a baccarat table with my name on it."

_________________________________
Scene:VIP club, Casino EPSILON
MD:10.1830

"...monkey, monkey! MONKEY!" Zane's table mates screamed out with enthusiasm as the dealer drew the last card from the shoe. Unfortunately the gods of gaming were to ignore their pleas.

"Three, player has six, dealer wins with seven." Efficently the dealer collected the players chips pausing to pay Zane's bet, after first deducting the 5% commission for betting dealer-win.

"Another drink for you sir?" The server asked from behind.

He drained the nearly empty glass and placed it on her tray. "That'd be great Bianca, same as last time please."

She smiled at him. "Okay one iced-tea."

"Thanks." The casino believed in serving alcohol rather than sythehol to its patrons. Many argued the effects were the same but it seemed alcohol still encouraged larger bets. Zane had decided early on not to take any chances and had stuck with nonalcholic drinks.

"Ahhh, Zane my friend, how are you?" A short Lebanese man approached the table, extending a hand. The captain recognized the accent before he turned to see the face.

"Nabil! I'm good, you?"

"Much better now that I know you are back with us. Are you winning all our money?"

"I've had a good run." He gestured at his stack of purple chips.

"Not much more or they won't be able to pay me!" The executive host of the casino pleaded feigning concern.

Zane gestured around at the thousands of guests around them in the noisy room. "Very little chance of that."

"But it is good you are here. The item you were looking for I have found it."

"The item?" Zane asked puzzled. It had been over a year since he had been in the casino. Nabil had a knack for finding elusive items and Zane had used his services several times before but he couldn't remember what this item was.

"The book!"

Recognition burst through. Since his days at the Academy he had been searching for a leather bound, orginal copy of Asimov's Foundation. He had it in several electronic forms and even had a paper version but he had long sought one of the orginal 500 year old copies to add to his collection. "Where?"

Nabil paused as Bianca returned with the iced-tea. "Here on EPSILON, a friend of mind managed to acquire it and has been saving it for you. He has a little store down on the market level right near the Wall."

"A book store on the market level?" He asked incredulously.

"He does sell other items as well." Nabil answered with a conspiratorial smile.

Zane rose from his chair and tossed the Vulcan dealer one of his purple chips. His excitement demanded he get teh book right away. Now he had something to truly look forward to on his shore leave.

_____________________
Scene: Just outside the Wall
MD:10.1900

"I can't believe you guys are scared to go in there for one little drink." Bat shouted in exasperation. "Look we'll go in, we won't talk to anyone, we won't look at anyone, we'll have one drink and then we'll leave. Its tradition! We've never been on EPSILON without having a drink here. Nothing happened last time."

"I don't know Bat." Fuhrman, the transporter chief said. He wanted desperately to get promoted up from ensign and another barroom brawl didn't seem like a good career move.

"Hmmphf. Well I'm going in myself you three can sit on the bench there and wait for me." With that Bat stormed into the bar.

"We can't let him go in there alone." Mike Larocque said.

"If something happens..." Barron added.

"...he'll get killed." Fuhrman finished.

"Ok one drink and then we leave and we carry him out if we have to." The three friends followed the old bartender in. Less than 50 fifty away the captain of the USS FEYNMAN exited from a small non-descript store and slowly began walking in the general direction of the Wall."

<<<NRPG>>>

Mike/Kevin/Kris: Well if your planning any fun in the Wall you've got four more participants and one more on the way! <BEG>

Respectfully,
Andy

-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET