USS Feynman NOV 1997
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TOTAL NOVEMBER 1997 POSTS: 14
GRAND TOTAL POSTS: 898
Posts By Each Year
- 1996 Posts - 643 Posts
- 1997 Posts - 255 Posts
- 1998 Posts - TBD Posts
- 1999 Posts - TBD Posts
USS FEYNMAN: Physical Fitness
by Kevin Thigpen 11-6-1997
Stardate: 91106.2339
Scene: Snow; near Nicholas sled crash
MD:10.1351
Loren dove into the snow as soon as the first shot flashed overhead. He could overhear and feel Tarrant and Maril nearby doing the same.
Meleah and her charge were already dashing off through the snow, out of range of the advancing Fajurians provided Loren, Tarrant, and Maril could hold them at bay for a while longer.
Loren took a deep breath. He recalled the tricorder scan he'd done on the approaching party. Between the three Star Fleet officers, they could easily hold the enemy at bay long enough to allow Meleah and Nicholas to get to the trial on time. Of course, speaking in a time-related sense, they only needed to hold them off for five minutes. After which, if Meleah didn't make it on time for some reason, it wouldn't matter. They would all probably cease to exist, or at least become something other than the persons, they'd become today.
The counselor reached over to his hip, as he heard return fire from Tarrant and Maril's position. Loren grabbed empty space where he'd last placed his phaser. Then he remembered seeing it sitting on the seat of the sled before it veered out of control into the tree. Cursing himself, Loren huckered down even more as the phaser fire became more intense.
It didn't take him long to realize that he was in the worst possible position he could be in. Behind him, in the direction that Meleah and Nicholas had gone, was Tarrant and Maril firing rapidly but carefully into the now dispersed enemy. In front of Loren were the enemy, spread out and behind cover in the sparse trees but protected well enough not to be sitting ducks for even the markmanship of the FEYNMAN's CEO and FO.
Biting his bottom lip, Loren could hear more voices of the advancing Fajurians. Slowly but surely, they were quickly advancing on Tarrant and Maril and him as well. Flakes of snow stung his eyes, but Loren continued to concentrate on the voices. Maril crackled over his comm, but Loren knew what was about to be said.
["Counselor, stay put! We're trying to provided cover fire for you to fall back!"]
Loren could easily sense the anxiousness in the FO's voice. Even though a simple counselor, he knew a tactically impossible situation when he saw one. In his stupidity, instead of falling back to Maril and Tarrant when the shooting began, he simply dropped to take cover where he stood. Now all that protected him was a moderate embankment of snow as a little under a dozen religiously motivated Fajurians advanced.
Turning over onto his back, partly to keep further snow out of his eyes, and to see if he could get a better view of Maril and Tarrant's location, Loren prepared himself to make a dash for his life. Within the span of a few seconds, he thought about Mary, and what she'd come to mean to him. He thought about the mission; wondered slightly if it would succeed.
Within a few tiny milliseconds, Loren contemplated whether they, his fellow crewmates would be saddened at his funeral. In his mind, he knew these thoughts were far from constructive given the situation, even deadly in a sense. But counselor training aside, the thoughts just kept coming. With a final brush of thought, Loren pushed the last of this thinking from his mind.
Voices could be heard over the embankment in the direction of the Fajurians. They were close. Their proper use of standard, their rushed exhalation of breath, their grunting. They were more than close, they were practically on top of him, and he with no weapon...
["Lt., run!"] shouted Maril's voice over his comm unit. The shout took Loren completely but surprise, but somehow, probably due to the adrenaline pumping through his body, Loren responded instaneously, as if expecting the order.
Snow flew in all directions as Loren lept to his feet, nearly tumbling in the soft snow, but miraculously retaining a little balance. It was enough though to enable him to achieve a dead sprint directly towards Maril and Tarrant. Head down, legs pumping, Loren put all he had into getting to them.
Behind the dashing counselor, a Fajurian half-standing, half-crouching behind a tree took aim from about 8 meters away. Smiling slightly, he targeted the blond-haired figure and silently cursed the infidel.
Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
Lt.(jg) Loren Landers
USS FEYNMAN CNS
[NRPG: Well, here's my two cents. Sorry for the period of inactivity guys and gals. I figure as long as we hold them off, Meleah and Nicholas will make it to the trial okay.]
********************************************************************************
"Nature uses only the longest threads to weave her patterns, so each small
piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry."
---Richard Feynman
Is there evil in the universe?
---Anonymous
********************************************************************************
USS FEYNMAN: What the Hell Happened!
by Kristen Gant 11-9-1997
Stardate: 91109.1229
Scene: Trial Hall
MD: 10.1357
"Three minutes, Mary!" Krysa said out of breath as they reached the hall where the trial was to be held.
"We just have to find the imposter .." Mary said.
Suddenly both women hissed, "There he is!" And pointed in opposite directions. Krysa looked behind her to where Mary was pointing and saw Nicholoas there as well as in the other direction where she had first spotted him.
"Oh no!" Krysa moaned which one is which. Both woman looked back and forth between the two Nicholas'. "Where is Meleah. She was supposed to be with the real one."
"I don't know .."
Both woman watched in horror as the younger version of Cardiff stepped up holding a phaser, pointed at one of the Nicholas'.
"NO!" Krysa shouted, and moved to run toward the man with the phaser. She felt a hand grip her arm tightly.
"Let him do what he has to do."
She turned to see the glazed eyes of the older Cardiff. She felt his determination. She knew he intended to allow his younger self to do this .. but which was he aiming for? Was Cardiff here to kill Nicholas!!??
She didn't have time to wonder longer as there was a flash of phaser fire and suddenly everything went black. She felt the same sensation she'd felt as they'd passed through the guardian the first time.
She came to, finding herself laying flat on the her face in the dust ground surrounding the Guardian of Forever.
She pushed herself up, spitting the dirt from her mouth and looked around. Her fellow crewmates were around her doing the same themselves. Her eyes sought out the bald head of their Captain first, and then each of her other fellow officers.
"Are you okay," She heard a voice behind her. She turned to see Flint extending a hand to help her up.
"It's over?"
He nodded.
"What happened. Did he kill Nicholas?" She looked around for Cardiff and didn't see him.
"We don't know yet."
Zane walked over with the rest of the crew as they gathered together each assuring themselves that they were all right and all together.
"Cardiff is missing," Mary said, "Should we search for him.
"Let's wait .." Zane said then moved his hand to hover over his comm badge. He hesitated for a moment. They all felt the tension. Were they back where they started .. would the FEYNMAN even be up there?
Finally Zane hit his badge, "Zane to FEYNMAN."
All held their breath as they waited to hear the real Garret's voice.
<Garret here, sir.> Krysa could hear the tension in her aOPS voice, but she was overcome with relief at even hearing it.
"Our holomeeting is over."
<Uh sir .. we have a bit of a problem. We were hit by several .. waves. The last one knocked out our transporters.>
"No transporters .."
<We've got people working on it .. they say in a couple of hours. But sir, we also had someone steal a shuttlecraft and head down to the planet.>
"Understood, Lieutenant. I'll handle things from here. Zane out." He looked at the others, "Lets head out and search for our shuttle .. and Cardiff."
Regards, Lt.Commander Krysa Jenn OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN
NRPG: Mike D., I thought you had plans for Cardiff. I wasn't sure what they were and I hope this doesn't screw them up .. But it sounded like you wanted him involved in the ending, so I tried to keep it very very vague :)
Well, I think it's almost over :)
Kristen
********************************************************************
.^. Kristen Gant
.-----' `-----. (AKA: Lt. Cmdr. Krysa Jenn, OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN
| [##' `##] | Cmdr. Y'lonna Dyvian, XO, USS VICTORY
`---' __ `---' Dr. Janna Swansen, CMO, USS PHOENIX
| .-' `. | Cdor. Ainese Kev, COMPA
|' `| Capt. Gabriel Faison, XO, TF ZINDERNUEF
Adm.Hayden Sweeney, Director, Camp Venture
Lt. Faith Donaven, Inst., Camp Venture
Lt.(j.g Roana Shan, on temporary assignment
TF Zindernuef, Counseling Office)
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/Kris/kris.htm
USS FEYNMAN: The End of Yesterday
by Mike Dawe 11-12-1997
SD: 24091112
Azariah hated this. Strapped down and unable to make a move to save himself. But the officer pulling him through the woods ran like the wind. He never would have been able to slog through ahead of his attackers. His weight would have broken him through the snow, leaving him a foundering target for the assassins.
But why hadn't he been told of the second team of guards? Or the possibility of assassins, for that matter. He looked up at the trees overhead and watched the branches flash by and wished for simpler times. For a moment he wondered if blowing the whistle had been the right thing to do . . . but only for a moment.
Cardiff, some distance away, looked into the business end of a phaser and then gaped at the person holding it. Azariah? How, why, what . . . then it hit him, the final plan. They wouldn't eliminate the admiral/Lt (jg), just discredit his testimony. This would be an easier task for the timestream to swallow. Death was so catastrophic and the time stream rejected the magnitude of the event. So the obvious solution was an 'end run'. Obvious now, that was.
Neither he nor the Temporal Division officer had any illusions about the resolve of the mock Azariah nor the setting that the phaser had. A glance between the two told the whole story. If he managed to fool the court then the whole timeline would alter. Finesse would win out where force had failed. Cardiff sighed and leaned back against the waist of the flyer behind him. His shoulder caught at the slight protrusion of a latch. He considered a swift duck and run but nobody would be fast enough to beat the single twitch of a trigger finger. Then he felt a small ovoid being pressed into his hand. Fingers swept across it and he felt a single button on one side. With little other choice he pressed the button
blur
Cardiff, some distance away, looked into the business end of a phaser and then gaped at the person holding it. Azariah? How, why, what . . . then it hit him, the final plan. They wouldn't eliminate the admiral/Lt (jg), just discredit his testimony. This would be an easier task for the timestream to swallow. Death was so catastrophic and the time stream rejected the magnitude of the event. So the obvious solution was an 'end run'. Obvious now, that was.
Neither he nor the Temporal division officer had any illusions about the resolve of the mock Azariah nor the setting that the phaser had. A glance between the two told the whole story. If he managed to fool the court then the whole timeline would alter. Finesse would win out where force had failed. Cardiff sighed and leaned back against the waist of the flyer behind him. He fingered the ovoid and considered what he had. A DV. Flint must have removed it from one of the agents caught earlier. But why would the temporal oficer hand such a device across? he was far more likely to be successful in its use . . .another glance showed the agents face haggard, eyes showing a distinct exhaustion. He HAD used it, and failed. Now it was Cardiffs turn.
James wondered how many times they had lived the last few minutes. But to get it right he was willing to go a few more. He lunged and the phaser fired
blur
He lunged left and the first shot missed. Flint crashed into the imposter giving Cardiff time to almost clear the flyer. Almost
blur
He lunged left and the first shot missed. Flint crashed into the imposter and Cardiff followed it with a kick that sent the phaser flying into the snow. He was about to administer a second blow when a shot came from above and behind.
blur
He lunged left and the first shot missed. Flint crashed into the imposter and Cardiff followed it with a kick that sent the phaser flying into the snow. He then shoved Flint to the right as a second shooter fired and missed. They ran for cover . . .
blur
He lunged left and the first shot missed. Flint crashed into the imposter and Cardiff followed it with a kick that sent the phaser flying into the snow. He then shoved Flint to the right as a second shooter fired and missed.
They rolled under the flyer as a voice shouted out "Go, attend to your duties, I will finish this." They could just see the feet of the imposter as he ran off, leaving them.
"One hundred and thirty seven tries and I never got this far." Flint wheezed.
"Didn't play enough old arcade games as a kid I suppose. Save game features are a Godsend to twitch players." Cardiff poked his head out and a blast melted the snow nearby. "What now?"
"We pray our ace in the whole pays off."
"I'm too old for just prayer, I like to help the odds." Long legs curled up and he made a break for the building
Blur
blur
b l u r
He staggered into the doorway, the ground behind smoking from a
dozen shots from the sniper. The trial was about to begin. Moving up the
stairway, long remembered to him he arrived just as the two Azariahs met
face to face. Just inside the doorway stood two more of the FEYNMAN crew.
One was about to move to intercept, interfere as the younger Cardiff aimed
his weapon.
>"NO!" Krysa shouted, and moved to run toward the man with the phaser.
>She felt a hand grip her arm tightly.
>
>"Let him do what he has to do."
>
>She turned to see the glazed eyes of the older Cardiff.
>She felt his determination.
What she couldn't see was the ovoid in his off hand. He watched the shot and tried to see which would be hit. His hand on the button he watched as the shot was taken.
Everything went black and he instinctively jammed his finger down.
blur
a lasting blur, unlike the ones before. a featureless greyness, fog for all the senses overwhelmed him. He drifted, drifted thoughts wandered. He watched his life move forward from then with the dispassionate eye of a third party. He had shot the right one and the trial had gone as planned. the FEYNMAN crew had been picked up but he had interrupted the taking of the guardian with the Deja vu device. Now he was trapped outside of the timestream. Pushing the button did nothing so he drifted and enjoyed the peace.
Peace, it had come so seldom as of late. This was almost like being 'outside'. No accusations, no responsibilities. He sat on the bank of the river of time and rested. No time passed so boredom did not come, nor did hunger or old age. He dipped his toes in the timestream but he couldn't seem to get in.
A force tried pulling him but he could feel its 'grasp' slip around him, the guardian of froever, no doubt. but he was now beyond the reach of forever. Beyond forever and just past the end of yesterday he hung between now and then.
The ache came. he wanted to do it again. to push the limits, faster, further, higher, lower. To fly. He tried to go back in but he couldn't find purchase to push off of. He tried to push the button until the button wore away. The grasping pull returned but this time he cooperated, they worked for years trying to perfect the contact. Slowly he slid off the bank and back into the stream.
"WHERE?"
The Guardian asked question the away Old testament Gods gave orders.
"Where I belong." Cardiff thought that would be simple enough.
It was. But not as he expected. He was in the FCO seat of the Defender. Soleil jumped at the sudden appearance of her pilot in civilian clothes but nodded permission as he reported aboard and then asked for permission to leave the bridge for sickbay.
<<<nrpg>>> So I'm out but not there. Come on home, he'll send word he got out as well, after he checks to see how the Admiral made it.
mike--->didn't know how this would end when he started it
USS FEYNMAN: Aftermath
by Joseph Baker 11-13-1997
SD: 91113.0219
MD: Sometime after leaving the planet
Scene: 10 Forward
1st LT Stark Keller walked over to the table where the FCO was sitting near the forward viewports, just staring out into space as the stars flew by at warp speeds. He smiled one of his patented smiles to a passing female security officer who promptly winked back at him.
Jerran said nothing, nor did he move once the Bajoran pilot had sat down.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Stark asked after a few moments of awkward silence and a few slugs of the synthehol he'd picked up from the replicator on the way over.
"You of all people know the answer to that question, Kelli. Besides, I wouldn't be able to talk about it if I could."
"It's a small ship, Terri. It's no secret any longer that it was Dav that took the shuttle down to that planet. It's also no big secret that he didn't return."
Jerran made no outwardly noticeable acknowledgement of his assistant FCO's words, but just sat there looking out at the stars, as stoic as any Vulcan.
"Alright, fine," Stark said, drinking the last of his synthehol. "If you can't talk to me then talk to someone else who was on the mission. Talk to Loren, talk to Krysa, talk to that walking computer Meleah, for all I care. You seem to have a lot in common with her, aside from the fact that she doesn't hide her emotions."
"I don't need a lecture on emotional control from you, LT," Jerran said calmly.
"Yes, I know, Terri. Look, I'm sorry, OK. I'm just trying to help. It's just that I feel sorta responsible for all this, seeing as though I encouraged you pursue this whole thing with Dav in the first place. I shouldn't have pushed you into it."
After a moment, Jerran sighed and said, "You didn't push me into it, Kelli. I wanted it to happen. I wanted to find someone who I could let my guard down with. I was wrong, though, about Dav."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you should stop trying, stop trusting. There will be other people. It's a big universe, after all."
"How many more people will I allow to betray me or walk out on me, though? Kalani, Jennifer, Dav, who else?"
"I'm not an expert on this, Terri. Hell, you've seen my track record, I think it speaks for itself. I just know that you can't stop trying. Otherwise, how will you ever know if you could have found someone? Isn't that worth the risk?"
Jerran nodded slightly and said, "I just need some time."
"Well, just don't take too much time," Stark said with a smile. "Ever since you've started expanding your horizons into same gender relationships, I've heard rumors of guys in just about every department on the ship that have shown interest in you."
"Tell me something, Kelli. Just how are you privileged to all the shipboard gossip?"
"Just a gift, I suppose," the pilot said as he cockily leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head and a winking eye as the security officer past by again.
************************************************************************ * jobaker@chuma.cas.usf.edu * jbaker@deans2.cas.usf.edu * ************************************************************************ * Joseph Baker * * University of South Florida * ************************************************************************ * "Daisemi'in rhhaensuriuu * "Of the Chief parts of the * * meillunsiateve * Ruling Passion only this * * rh'e Mnhei'sahe yie ahr'en: * Can be truly said: * * Mnahe afw'ein qiuu, * Hate has a reason for everything * * rh'e hweithnaef" * But love is unreasonable," * * mrht Heis'he ehl'ein qiuu * --Rihannsu Proverb * ************************************************************************
USS FEYNMAN: What the Hell Happened! [A Further Perspective]
by Michael "Mike" Dailey 11-15-1997
SD: 91115.0030 [91115.0530 GMT]
MD: 10.1401
SCENE: Guardian planet (name?)
Not quite the nauseous feelings reminiscent of a primitive matter transport, and far removed from the painful effects of a dimensional jump, J.C. groaned as his head spun about him, the lingering side effects of the Guardian of Forever's Temporal Transport. Moments ago, he had been home. At least location-wise, a home that was Terra of over 40 years ago, and now in seemingly less than an instant, the Guardian had deposited the Away Team back where they started.
Allard had landed ungracefully upon his pride, and a quick glance at his fellow officers showed most of them were in various horizontal states. Closing his eyes, J.C. willed the ground to stop spinning, but made it worse. A firm hand grasp his arm from behind,
"Are you all right, Mr. Allard," inquired Lt. Meleah. Tilting his head back ever so slowly, J.C. opened his eyes to the Android CSciO.
"Yes, sir. Just a bit disoriented," he offered. To prove himself, J.C. propped himself up to stand, but stumbled back down. Meleah effortlessly hauled the CSO up in one motion, emitting a yelp from him, not from pain but from the sudden unexpected change of being horizontal one second and vertical the next.
Taking a deep breath, then a cautious step to ensure his equilibrium was in tandem, and to be certain he would not return to the ground. "Er.., thank you, sir." blushed J.C. at the Science Chief.
Meleah merely nodded, and began walking toward the others,
with J.C. in step behind.
> "What happened. Did he kill Nicholas?" She looked around for
> Cardiff and didn't see him.
>
> "We don't know yet."
>
> Zane walked over with the rest of the crew as they gathered together
> each assuring themselves that they were all right and all together.
>
> "Cardiff is missing," Mary said, "Should we search for him.
>
> "Let's wait .." Zane said then moved his hand to hover over his comm badge.
> He hesitated for a moment. They all felt the tension. Were they back where
> they started .. would the FEYNMAN even be up there?
>
> Finally Zane hit his badge, "Zane to FEYNMAN."
>
> All held their breath as they waited to hear the real Garret's voice.
>
> <Garret here, sir.> Krysa could hear the tension in her aOPS voice, but she
> was overcome with relief at even hearing it.
>
> "Our holomeeting is over."
>
> <Uh sir .. we have a bit of a problem. We were hit by several .. waves. The
> last one knocked out our transporters.>
>
> "No transporters .."
>
> <We've got people working on it .. they say in a couple of hours. But sir,
> we also had someone steal a shuttlecraft and head down to the planet.>
J.C. noticeably winced at the news. His ACSO, and the entire squad were
in for a lengthy series of training drills on the holodeck, with extra
attention to shuttle security and retrieval. He would have a personal
'discussion' with Rory Heywood and the trooper on duty in the shuttle bay,
a discussion they would not soon forget.
> "Understood, Lieutenant. I'll handle things from here. Zane out." He looked
> at the others, "Lets head out and search for our shuttle .. and Cardiff."
[SNIP] MD: A few hours after on board again, en route home.
Wandering into his most favourite place on the ship, the doors parted to a crowded 10-Forward, but immediately J.C. noted the tone was different... the mood was not the same. Bat was not here. One person made that much difference to so many people on board the FEYNMAN. Strolling up to the bar, J.C. wondered why relations between Bat and the CO were always distant. True, it was none of his business, but like any ship of the line, nothing travelled faster than warp 10 except for news.
"Tirellian water," the server turned to retrieve his order, himself unsure what made him order the sweet but totally non-alcoholic, effervescent drink. A large glass mug of the cool, bubbling liquid was set in front of him, J.C. mumbled a thanks as he sipped the beverage while gazing at the cross section of the FEYNMAN crew enjoying themselves. He spotted one of his troopers, leaning over a table whispering to one of Cdr. Koreth's technicians. Seconds later, they rose together and departed, probably going to explore each other's warp drives.
J.C. took a hearty swig, wishing he had in fact ordered something
a bit stiffer than the Tirellian water. The empty table was closer
to the windows, and held a better view than the bar. Grabbing
his drink, J.C. maneuvered through the crowd to the table, but stopped
mid-way. Two familiar faces at a nearby table, 1Lt Stark, and the
FCO, Lt. Jerran.
> "Just a gift, I suppose," the pilot said as he cockily leaned back in his
> chair with his hands clasped behind his head and a winking eye as the
> security officer past by again.
Proceeding a bit further, Jerran had his back to J.C., but Stark noticed the CSO, and winked. Unsure if it was an invitation to join them or not, but J.C. was suddenly in no mood for solitude.
"Sirs, may I join you?", came J.C.'s voice from behind the FCO. Stark beheld a mischievous grin, as he pushed out a chair between Jerran and himself. J.C. landed himself in the overstuffed chair, resting his half-full glass on the table.
"However, you'll have to excuse me," exclaimed Stark as he rose from his own chair. Jerran's stare was glacial, the Bajoran pilot seemingly indifferent. "I have some things to attend to down in the shuttle bay."
"I'll talk to you _later_, Mr. Stark."
"Yes, SIR!" Stark replied in a very silly, non-serious way. J.C. had the distinct feeling he had either intruding or in the middle of something. Leaving, the Bajoran pilot bid the two officers good night, casting an eerie silence upon the CSO and FCO.
J.C. never had much call to work with the FCO, or the reverse. Hell, the last time he had piloted... that gave him an idea,
"You know, I..." started J.C.
"I was thinking..." began Jerran. Both halted, J.C. laughing at their linguistical clumsiness.
"Sorry, Sir," offered J.C.
- STOP apologizing, * "that's all right, Mr. Allard. You were saying?"
prompted Jerran. J.C. took the last sip of his water,
"I was just thinking of the Academy. I spent one entire year in Flight Control School, before I transferred to security..."
This Jerran had not known, but looked into the deep blue eyes of the CSO. J.C. peered at the Vulcan/Bajoran FCO, glad he was esper-blind. Not that he would EVER accuse any fellow officer of psionic invasion, still he felt better knowing telepaths and empaths alike read the equivalent of 'white noise' from the redoubtable CSO, a gift that had come in handy on numerous occasions.
"I landed quite a good rating, no pun intended. But I had a bear of an instructor, Cdr. Ingrit Hawthorne! After one year, I lost interest..."
Submitted,
Michael "Mike" Dailey
splatter2@qtm.net
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+ | "A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head-on and licks | | it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away." | | - Commander [Dr.] Phillip Boyce, 2254 CMO USS ENTERPRISE NCC-1701 | | | | Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard - CSO USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG | | Lt. [Dr.] D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - UNASSIGNED SILVER FLEET | | Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny - CNS USS BURKE GREEN FLEET | | Lcdr. Ion M. Steiner - L.C. SFDITF TEAM ALPHA S.F. Diplomatic Task Force | | Capt. Johan Bauer - COMSFDITF "All I ask is a tall ship..." | +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
USS FEYNMAN: CNS Work
by Kevin Thigpen 11-17-1997
Stardate: 91116.2359
Scene: Ten-Forward----->CNS Office
MD: Following Tarrant's "March of the Jeffries Tube"<BG>
Loren sat quietly sipping his warm peach tea, leaning back in his chair pretending to view his PADD. Zane had just walked in and was standing alone looking out the viewport at the stars rushing past in their race with the FEYNMAN.
The ship was well on its way back to base, the mission in the past over and the universe no worse for wear. Smiling slightly to himself, Loren took another sip of tea, all the while observing Captain Zane take the cup of coffee from the crewman attending the bar and continue standing staring out the viewport.
Loren thought about what is must be like to be Captain of a starship, the tremendous responsibility weighing down on the individual. At least Zane had Krysa. So many captains shunned relationships other than those they shared with their vessels, and in the process lost something vital about being a being.
As a telepath, Loren was deeply attuned to the moods of the crew. Even at a distance he could feel the relief, the end of anxiety for many excepting Jerran. That crewmember had other things plaguing his mind. Loren understood now why the mental blocks came so easily for Jerran. Without them, he would be a broken man, considering all that he had been through.
The ship's counselor moved to stand up but stopped in mid-motion. Silently he recalled the words of one of his psychology professors at the Academy. Looking over at Zane, Loren moved to leave ten-forward unnoticed among the people already present in the lounge at this early morning hour. Many times, people had to be left to their own designs, their own troubles. Loren would leave Zane to whatever thoughts he shared with the stars that flashed by.
The doors opened and closed and Loren was gone.
[SNIP]
Scene: CNS's office "Loren's Domain"
<<<<<Counselor's Log>>>>>>>>
The previous mission is over despite hardships and unbelievable odds. As J.C. had put it upon returning back to the FEYNMAN, the universe is safe once again.
Today I pronounced my undying love for Mary, my Imzadi. It's a big emotional step, but I do love her. She smiled and gave me a big kiss. I will have to thank Tarrant for setting the mood for me though, even though he has absolutely no idea of his involvement in our little scene.
The rest of the crew is in good shape emotionally excepting Lt. Jerran. I am worried about him. Incidents during this last mission have led him to a severe regression in his use of mental blocks to suppress his emotions. Being of two races, both with strong sometimes contradictory beliefs must be difficult for him, even though he melds the two beliefs with characteristic finesse and ease. I'm still worried for him, but have decided the best course of action is for him to seek me out for help.
Offering help to Jerran would be useless now, unless he truly desires it. Time could heal what I cannot.
Computer end recording.
<<<<<<<End Counselor's Log>>>>>>>
Loren turned off the desk terminal and swiveled to look at the stars now too. He could understand how Zane would lose his eyes and more importantly thoughts in the rush of light beyond that little window. Loren looked a bit closer out the window and tried to comprehend the limitless boundaries of the space beyond. Thousands of the tiny lights represented not stars or star systems but whole galaxies, unexplored galaxies. Smiling slightly, Loren returned his thoughts to his small part of the cosmos, careful not to get lost in the beyond. His part in the great scheme of things was undoubtedly small.
But it was still his part.
Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
Lt(jg) Loren Landers
USS FEYNMAN CNS
[NRPG: Joseph, I thought about busting in on Jerran and doing the counseling thing, but this post kinda wrote itself. (Saw the new Hubble Space Telescope Deep Field shot, and had a religious experience.) If Jerran want's help he knows where to find the counselor <BG>.]
*********************************************************************************
"Concern for man himself and his fate must always form the chief interest
of all technical enddeavors...in order that the creations of our minds
shall be a blessing and not a curse to mankind. Never forget this in the
midst of your diagrams and equations."---Albert Einstein
*********************************************************************************
USS FEYNMAN: I Want My Bat!
by Kristen Gant 11-18-1997
Stardate: 91117.2127
Scene: Ops Office
MD: 14 .. sometime :)
"So .." she asked looking expectantly at the short blonde haired woman. Her AOPS had just told her about a new offer to get promoted to OPS on another starship. So far Garret had turned them all down. Already Krysa could sense a different reslove in the woman's emotional state.
"I'm gonna do it."
Krysa grinned. "Congratulations then." It was about time .. and well deserved.
"Thanks. I'm very nervous." Jeanine said.
"You'll do great," The Ops officer told her, "Ahh, but I will miss you."
"This has definitely been the best assignment. And just thinking about leaving makes me miss it already." Jeanine grinned. "But you were right, I can't keep turning these offers down, or they'll stop throwing them at me."
Krysa nodded, "Absolutely. So when do you leave?"
"As soon as we get to Zindernuef."
"Then we shall have to have a farwell dinner before you go." Krysa stood, "Perhaps at one of the new establishments that keep springing up on the station."
"I'd like that." Jeanine moved to the door, "Thanks, Krysa."
The petite woman nodded and watched the other leave. Now to find a replacement .. Smith? Reetza?? Someone else entirely???
She moved back to her desk to begin the decision making process.
***
Scene: Zindernuef
"There's the Casino." Krysa grinned.
"Just there to steal away anything you have of any worth." Jeanine chuckled.
"I have little of any worth," She said and linked arms with her two companions as she pulled them into the establishment and toward a table. "Now sit."
Her companions, one tall and blonde, then other even taller and grey, grinned and did as asked. "Besides I'm hungry and I just know that my favorite cook has to be here somewhere!"
"He'll show when he's good and ready," Zane told her.
"Well, I'm tired of waiting for him. I've gone without his delicious delights for far to long," she pouted playfully, "He'll never be able to resist this face."
"She's mighty sure of herself, isn't she?" Jeanine laughed.
Zane nodded.
Krysa shook her head at them, and then turned her attention to the casino patrons. "There's the outpost's XO," Zane commented as he pointed out the red-uniformed man playing at one of the game tables.
"The former counselor?" Krysa said as the boy-faced man turned to speak to the young woman beside him, "He's got the face of counselor."
"Is there a certain 'face' to all counselors?"
Krysa nodded, "Oh yes, friendly, animated .." she grinned, and added, ".. attractive."
Just then Jeanine smiled and stood as a handsome red-head approached their table. "Hi."
"I hope I'm not late?"
"Oh no," Jeanine grinned, she grabbed his hand and introduced the lad to the other, "This is Johnny."
Krysa vaguely recognized the man, who was easily several years younger then Jeanine. She couldn't remember which department he was from, but he was definitely one of the FEYNMAN crew. "It's nice to meet you, Johnny," She began. Suddenly her face froze, "What is that?" She sniffed the air.
"What?" the other two asked together, looking at her as though she'd gone mad.
"That smell!" She stood and moved toward the bar where an attractive young woman was sitting her plate on the counter. She easily tossed aside her long black hair, and placed her napkin on her lap.
Krysa moved closer and the woman turned to look at her, "Can I help you?"
"I was wondering. Do they serve that here?"
The woman chuckled, "Oh no. I'm on my break and was starving."
"It smells wonderful."
"It is. There's a new little restaurant just around the corner. The cook is fabulous."
"Thank you." Krysa said smiling genially. "I'm sorry I disturbed you."
"No problem, Bat loves the advertisement," the woman smiled.
"Bat?"
"The cook."
Krysa frowned and headed out of the casino followed by Zane and Jeanine. Her frown deepened as she walked around the corner and into the small restaurant where, poised at the bar as though he belonged there, was Bat. No wonder he hadn't come back to the FEYNMAN yet! He had a new job! Well she wouldn't have that!
"Bat!"
The bartender turned and grinned happily to see the OPS officer, "Krysa! Is the FEYNMAN back already?"
"You know darn well, it's back. And I've missed you something awful. So now tell the owner you quit and come have an evening with us before we all go back to the FEYNMAN."
"You don't understand." Bat said with a grin, "This is my place. I am the owner."
Regards,
Lt. Commander Krysa Jenn
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN
***
NRPG: Andy I wasn't sure what you had planned for Bat, but this sounded fun. I leave the rest up to you :)
Kris
********************************************************************
.^. Kristen Gant
.-----' `-----. (AKA: Lt. Cmdr. Krysa Jenn, OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN
| [##' `##] | Cmdr. Y'lonna Dyvian, XO, USS VICTORY
`---' __ `---' Dr. Janna Swansen, CMO, USS PHOENIX
| .-' `. | Cdor. Ainese Kev, COMPA
|' `| Capt. Gabriel Faison, XO, TF ZINDERNUEF
Adm.Hayden Sweeney, Director, Camp Venture
Lt. Faith Donaven, Inst., Camp Venture
Lt.(j.g Roana Shan, on temporary assignment
TF Zindernuef, Counseling Office)
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/Kris/kris.htm
USS FEYNMAN: Home Again
by Joseph Baker 11-20-1997
SD: 91120.1603
Scene: 10 Forward
LT Jerran sat at a table alone watching as the ships flew past outside the window at Outpost Zinderneuf. One of those ships which had just pulled into dock just happened to be the USS DELILHA, LT Jennifer Cartwright's ship. Jerran knew exactly what she was here for, her marriage to the DELILHA's first officer. She had sent him a letter not long before the FEYNMAN had departed on its last mission mentioning that she was holding the ceremony on Zinderneuf the next time they pulled in. Jerran guessed that this must be the next time. It certainly couldn't have come at a worse time.
- Why did he do these things to himself,* he had been wondering a lot lately.
Why did he bother falling for people when there was a good chance they were either just going to die, leave, or outright betray him? Why couldn't he be more Vulcan and unemotional. "Because you're a passionate Bajoran as well," the voice would say inside his head.
He knew that given time, the Prophets would show him what their plans for him were, but they were certainly taking their sweet time about it.
Jerran turned to the door in time to see LT Meleah walk in, Cadence in
tow. He almost tried to turn and hide in the solace of the stars outside
the window when a little voice yelled out:
> "Terri!" Cadence called as she pulled up next to the table. Sitting
> there, with a rather dejected look on his face, was Jerran. He looked
> surprised to see Cadence standing there.
>
> "Hello," he replied.
>
> Cadence had no inhibitions whatsoever, so she immediately climbed onto
> his lap after taking his response as an invitation. Meleah came up to the
> table, noting the expression on Jerran's face. She had heard, finally,
> about Jerran and one of her officers who had subsequently died on the
> mission. So she understood why he wasn't happy. "May we join you, Lt?"
"Of course," he said with total Vulcan calm, giving Meleah a look that
almost said, "What choice do I have?"
"How was your stay on the station?" he said to Cadence after giving her a hug.
"It was OK, I guess. I met a few Bajoran children there. Other than that, though, it was really boring. I didn't have Auntie Melie to play with," she said as she smiled to the android. "What about you? How come you look sad?"
"I'm OK," he said with a slight smile to her. "I just lost a friend on the last mission."
"Oh," Cadence sid as she looked down at her shoes as her feet swang back and forth. "I'll still be your friend, Terri."
Jerran chuckled slightly and said, "Thanks, Cadence. I appreciate that."
"We were just about to get a bite to eat, LT," Meleah said. "Would you care to join us?"
"Sure," he said with a smile to Cadence. "What say we go onto the outpost and see if we can find a decent excuse for hasparat?"
"Yeah!" Cadence said as she jumped off his lap and ran towards the door, waiting there as if to say, "Hurry up!" to the grown-ups in tow.
************************************************************************ * jobaker@chuma.cas.usf.edu * jbaker@deans2.cas.usf.edu * ************************************************************************ * Joseph Baker * * University of South Florida * ************************************************************************ * "Daisemi'in rhhaensuriuu * "Of the Chief parts of the * * meillunsiateve * Ruling Passion only this * * rh'e Mnhei'sahe yie ahr'en: * Can be truly said: * * Mnahe afw'ein qiuu, * Hate has a reason for everything * * rh'e hweithnaef" * But love is unreasonable," * * mrht Heis'he ehl'ein qiuu * --Rihannsu Proverb * ************************************************************************
USS FEYNMAN: Loggerheads
by Andrew Catterick 11-21-1997
SD: 91121.1400
Scene: Casino Zinderneuf, OZ
>"Bat!"
>
>The bartender turned and grinned happily to see the OPS >officer, "Krysa! Is the FEYNMAN back already?"
>
>"You know darn well, it's back. And I've missed you >something awful. So now tell the owner you quit and come
>have an evening with us before we all go back to the FEYNMAN."
>
>"You don't understand." Bat said with a grin, "This is my place, I am the owner."
"You what?" Krysa exclaimed as Zane, Jeanine and Johnny moved closer.
"Jeanine its good to see you again." Bat said before nodding to Johnny. "Captain." He added coolly.
"Bat."
"Yep, its all mine." Bat continued looking back to Krysa. "Decided it was time to make something of myself. Do something I enjoy."
"You were doing something you enjoyed! You told me being on the FEYNMAN was the best job you ever had." Krysa said clearly not liking this turn of events. "Which you’ll be returning to. I’m sure you’ve got a great manager to protect your investments here."
"I’m the manager too. Gotta keep costs down." There was a pause and Bat shrugged. "Listen." He said clapping his hands together. "Why don’t you four grab a table and relax and let me rustle up something you’ll enjoy. We can talk later."
Krysa nodded. "You bet we’ll talk later. And none of this nonsense about not coming *home*." She had a full head of steam going as she headed to her table. Enough to hit Zane on the back. "Why didn’t you say anything…"
"Those yer friends off that ship that your always talking about." Sharon, Bat’s head server asked as she accepted the drinks he was making and strategically placed them on her tray.
"Some of them."
"Who’s the grey one. He’s kinda cute." She turned and sized him up "Looks like she’s giving him a hard time about something. Well if I had the chance I’d certainly…"
"He’s the captain of the FEYNMAN and he is taken." Bat said firmly.
"Well that's not always…" She started thoughtfully.
"He’s taken." Bat said more firmly. "Go serve your drinks."
"What do you mean he’s made his decision! What kind of crap is that?"
Krysa whispered across the table as Zane hid behind his menu. He caught a sympathetic glance from Johnny to his left. But Krysa wasn’t finished yet. "You and I both know that Bat means a happy and efficient crew. So its your job to make sure he comes back."
"I know and I will. We’re not sailing for a while and you and I know Bat well enough to know he misses us as much as we miss him. Now, lets put this on the back burner. I for one am interested in hearing about Jeanine’s new ship."
* * *
Scene: Bar, Along the Promenade
"Who are those guys?" Lt(jg) Matt Furhman asked of his companions.
MCPO Mike Larocque tilted his head back finishing off his ale and banged the glass down on the table before looking over at the noisy group in the corner. "CALLISTO. See the annoying Klingon? He’s their CMO."
"CMO? Whoever heard of a Klingon as doctor? Man, if I was ever on the verge of death and looked up into that face. That’d be it for me." Barron said signaling to the waitress, he thought she was a she, to bring another round of drinks.
"A friend of mine’s the purser on CALLISTO. Says the Klingon knows what he is doing. Of course she also thinks CALLISTO can run rings around FEYNMAN." This caused a derisive snort from the other two. "Hey I didn’t say she was smart. But you gotta admire her loyalty."
"I guess. But I still think I’d rather be looking up at our doctor before theirs."
"True." All three let their thoughts drift at that.
* * *
Scene: Bat’s Place
Timeframe: 2 hours later
"Thanks again for dinner Bat. I think it was the best meal I’ve ever had."
"Glad you enjoyed it." The older man replied reaching under the counter for a clean glass and a cloth to rub it with.
There was silence for a moment.
"Look Bat. You are coming back to the FEYNMAN aren’t you? Your not really going to stay here?"
"What’s wrong with here?" He asked indignantly.
"Nothing. Nothing, you’ve got a great place here. You really do. But, what about the FEYNMAN? We need you there."
"Well that's a bit of a change isn’t it?"
"Look you know about operations. Sometimes there classified and that's just the way it is. I went somewhere where very few people *inside* Star Fleet let alone outside have heard about. I couldn’t chance any leaks. Hell, I would have put off non-essential departments if it wouldn’t have raised too many suspicions."
"In case you have forgotten I was in Star Fleet for 25 years, I think you can trust me."
"Of course I can. But your not in Star Fleet now. How could I order all the civilians off and keep you? How would that look? Sorry, Meleah, sorry Tarrant. Your families have to go and by the way my uncle is staying."
"I’m not on that ship because I’m your uncle, I’m on that ship for the morale of the crew. And from what I hear you certainly needed some morale."
"Look your right I know. But the situation was still the one it was and I don’t want my officers and crew to think that I can ignore my own orders."
"Its not that way and you know it and no one on that crew would have thought anything of it. I may not be on the official roster but I am, I was. Part of the crew. But you took that away from me. Its time for me to move on."
"So there is nothing I can say?"
"No."
"Bat…. Don’t punish the FEYNMAN and yourself because your mad at me."
Respectfully,
Andy
________________________________________________________________
-Captain Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN
-Commodore Robert Steele, Commanding TF ZINDERNEUF
-Lieutenant Kurt Mitchell, Chief of Security, USS CALLISTO
USS FEYNMAN: Scraps of the Past
by Kevin Thigpen 11-21-1997
Stardate: 91121.2325
Scene: Zinderneuf (main thoroughfare------>Bat's eatery)
MD: After Andy's last post
Inwardly, Loren smiled as he and Mary strolled down the main avenue in the new station. Dozens upon dozens of people milled about up and down the thoroughfare. With Mary clinging to his arm, he felt as if very little were wrong with the universe. Glancing down though, at the small package he'd gotten from the Klingon blades store, dispelled this illusion.
"What's wrong?" queried Mary sensing the change in emotions from Loren.
"I can hide nothing from you," quietly stated Loren as they continued their stroll.
Mary turned to him and stopped, dark eyes absorbing Loren. No words passed between them, but she understood, grasping Loren's hand that the held the item from the store. "I hadn't even noticed," she stated her eyes beginning to mirror Loren's own sad eyes.
"You go on ahead. I'll catch up in a bit. I need to talk to Bat," spoke Loren brushing a loose lock of jet black hair from Mary's forehead. Mary nodded in agreement, but before leaving gave Loren you better not be long look which elicited a slight, weak smile from the blond-haired counselor.
As Mary mingled into the throng of people, Loren stepped up the nearest terminal and asked for the location of a certain new eatery on the station.
[SNIP]
Bat wiped the beaded sweat that had formed on his forehead. Lunch hour had been hectic, but as usual, the place was in the post-lunch slump; which meant he had time for a short break.
"I take it business is pretty good," stated Loren matter-of-factly, having picked up on Bat's weariness before entering the eatery.
Bat looked up at the blond visitor totally nonplussed. "I see you managed to wander around this way. Surprised it took you this long."
"Well, my ears don't hear all the good stuff that goes on this station. The FEYNMAN is a lot smaller than this place, but I still try," added Loren.
"Since you're hear, you might as well give the speech about why I shouldn't leave the FEYNMAN and stay here in a business that I truly enjoy."
Loren stared at the man for a bit before, "No. I'm not here to do that. Actually I came by to share a bit of news with you."
Bat arched a brow, suspicious of the counselor.
Loren walked up to the bar, and unwrapped the item he'd purchased earlier in the Klingon store. Shining in the eatery's low light was a rusted, broken dha'tang knife. The family crest adorning the blade's hilt was just barely visible.
Loren spoke before Bat had the chance. "This is the only thing that remains of my Klingon heritage. The entire clan wiped out, when my adopted father was accused of treason. It's funny though. Sometimes people who have pasts try to forget them and cast aside the people who were a part of those pasts. I, on the other hand, have to cling to every little scrap I can find."
Quietly, Loren wrapped his item back up, and without saying another word to Bat, walked out of the shop. Bat was still lost in thought over what had been said.
Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
Lt.(jg) Loren Landers
USS FEYNMAN CNS
***************************************************************************
"Concern for man himself and his fate must always form the chief interest
of all technical enddeavors...in order that the creations of our minds
shall be a blessing and not a curse to mankind. Never forget this in the
midst of your diagrams and equations."---Albert Einstein
***************************************************************************
USS FEYNMAN: Intermission
by Kristen Gant 11--1997
Stardate: 91122.1052
Scene: Zindernuef
>"I know and I will. We're not sailing for a while and you and I know Bat
>well enough to know he misses us as much as we miss him. Now, lets put
>this on the back burner. I for one am interested in hearing about
>Jeanine's new ship."
The woman, first a bit hesitant, began to tell them about her move. As she
talked, she would glance toward the young man beside her. Johnny beamed as
she talked. It was clear to Krysa that young man had probably been more
instrumental in getting the woman to take the new position then she had
been.
By the end, Jeanine's face was as animated and excited about the change as she had been when she told Krysa about it in her office several days before arriving back at Zindernuef.
Krysa listened, while keeping a watchful eye on the bartender as he ran his newest establishment. He seemed happy enough. But she could tell he wouldn't be happy if the FEYNMAN left without him yet again. Still his pride ..
Krysa finally allowed herself to be pulled out of Bat's Place, but she continued to throw worried glances back. As Jeanine and Johnny moved ahead, Krysa grabbed Zane's hand and leaned closer to him, "I can't believe he's thinking about running that place rather then 10-Forward."
"I'll talk to him." Zane promised her.
"You'd better, and you'd better get him back or .. or.."
Zane's black eyes looked down at her, "Or what?"
A deep sigh escaped her lips, and she squeezed his hand, "Just bring him back."
"I'll do my best."
She nodded, "I know you will. But I won't be able to have any fun tonight if he doesn't agree to come back."
Zane smiled at her fondly, "We can't have that, can we."
"Nope. So you go talk him back to the FEYNMAN, I'm going to go shopping for a new dress."
"What, not going to wear the fishnet stockings from our excursion on the HMS FEYNMAN?"
"Oh no," she teased, "That I'm saving for a special occasion."
Regards,
Lt.Commander Krysa Jenn
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN
***
NRPG: I know this doesn't add anything much.. and is purely fluff .. I'd hoped to do more.. but between trying to square away my new Command and such, I've been swamped.
You all have a good Turkey Day .. even if you aren't celebrating turkey day today :) I assure you, I'll be eating enough turkey for all of you :)
Kris
********************************************************************
.^. Kristen Gant
.-----' `-----. (AKA: Lt. Cmdr. Krysa Jenn, OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN
| [##' `##] | Cmdr. Y'lonna Dyvian, XO, USS VICTORY
`---' __ `---' Dr. Janna Swansen, CMO, USS PHOENIX
| .-' `. | Cdor. Ainese Kev, COMPA
|' `| Capt. Gabriel Faison, XO, TF ZINDERNUEF
Adm.Hayden Sweeney, Director, Camp Venture
Lt. Faith Donaven, Inst., Camp Venture
Lt.(j.g Roana Shan, on temporary assignment
TF Zindernuef, Counseling Office)
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/Kris/kris.htm
USS FEYNMAN: Getting the Ball Rolling
by Andrew Catterick 11-29-1997
SD: 91128.1900
Scene: Commodore Steele’s Office
"Come in gentlemen, take a seat." Steele said as Captain Zane and Commander Maril entered the office of their new TFCO for the first time. "I Just finished reading your mission debrief. Quite an interesting mission you had."
"Well I don’t know if interesting would properly describe it sir." Zane said with a smile. "But I’m am glad it ended the way it did."
"Like Arati after Gilpoti." Maril added.
"Er, yes." Steele replied and Zane found a connection with the man at once.
"Well your next mission will be just as interesting and I think you’ll find it somewhat satisfying in a personal sense. I’m sure you remember the Issahi?"
"Yes sir." Zane replied. A year ago they had been tasked with finding who or what had destroyed USS SERAPIS. Stumbling across the Issahi, a race of lizard/dinosaurs they had discovered that SERAPIS had been destroyed by the Reavers, an insect race that was swarming its way across the quadrant and heading straight for SILVER. The Issahi were the only major Star Empire that stood in the way of the Reaver’s who had just begun to enter Issahi space. The Issahi needed the help of Star Fleet or they would be overrun by the insect hordes. Realizing that they will be next on the chopping block Zane decides a unified front is their only hope and agrees in principle to the request until the Federation Council ratifies the agreement.
In the mean time the Issahi come into the possession of a Bajoran Tear of the Prophets, a tear that has the power to move ships great distances in the blink of an eye. Ignoring Zane’s request to have the Tear returned to Bajor and realizing the tactical importance the Tear would give their navy, the Issahi decide against the alliance and FEYNMAN returned home.
"A month ago we received a request from the Issahi Confederacy to reopen negotiations to discuss forming a strategic alliance. Apparently the Tear has been stolen and now that they can’t out maneuver the Reavers they are losing ground. Now I have to admit to a sense of satisfaction that the tables have turned but you both know first hand what the Reavers can do and the Issahi are simply not going to be able to stop them by themselves. It seems inevitable that we are going to have to fight the Reavers either with the Issahi or after they’ve been overrun. I’d rather fight in someone else’s territory. Fleet agrees and a Battlegroup should be in Issahi space in 30 days."
"And we’re to join the fleet sir?" Zane asked, happy with the idea of facing the Reavers again.
"No, not yet anyway. There is too much going on closer to home that I can’t afford to detach FEYNMAN for any great length of time. But you will be heading back to Issahi space. The first part of your mission will be to put down a diplomatic and medical team on the homeworld. I want you to find out everything they know about the Reavers. If we’re going to be working together we better be organized. As for the medical side. Well as I’m sure you found out the Issahi are a warrior race and as such don’t have much in the way of medical facilities. The sick and weak are left to die. But the Reavers have taken their toll and the Issahi have realized that losing key personnel who could be saved is a waste and a good way to hand the Reavers an easy victory. In short they need medical help. Quickly. As part of the battlegroup two hospital ships will be assigned the tasking of creating an Issahi health system but in the mean time your doctors, and the extra teams your taking with you are to keep the navy on their feet. "
"And the second part of the mission?" Zane wondered what else the commodore would throw at them. A diplo-medical mission for a bunch of stubborn dinosaurs sounded more than enough.
Steele leaned forward and jabbed his console bringing the 3d image of a Romulan ship to life floating a foot of his desk. "You’re also going hunting. This morning I had a visit from a member of the Romulan consulate here on ZINDERNEUF. It seems one of their ships is missing and quite coincidentally this ship is also responsible for stealing the Tear back from the Issahi. The Romulans have been trying to catch it for 2 months but they can’t so they’ve come to us for help."
"If the Romulans can’t find their own cloaked ship how do they expect us to?" Maril asked.
"They have a spy aboard who has periodically sent out a transmission for the Romulan Fleet to home in on. Problem is, for the spy not to alert the sensors of the ship he is on so it is an extremely low powered signal. Low enough that the Romulan sensors can’t find it."
"But the DELPHI may be able to." Zane concluded, the sophisticated sensor array on the FEYNMAN was top-grade, better than that on most capital starships.
"Exactly."
"Still it seems a little strange that they have come to us for help."
"They want this character bad. Haven’t heard of too many Romulan renegades and I’m sure its gnawing at them." Steele smiled quite satisfied with the thought. "And for doing them this little favour they are quite willing to let us keep the Tear and have promised not to mention that fact to the Issahi."
"Fair enough and it would be nice to take a peak in this ship if we can pin her down." Zane added.
"Well it would except you’ll be towing along a representative of the Romulan Empire who they feel will be able to help on the mission. Read naval intelligence. I don’t think we’ll be getting a good look."
Zane shrugged unsurprised. "Somehow I don’t think this renegade is going to pull over and surrender for us…."
"They don’t really care. As far as the Romulan government is concerned this ship is an enemy of the Praetor and you can take him any way you can. I think they’d like the captain alive but I got the sense that they won’t be to upset if you have to destroy the ship. They want it stopped. Now, I’m certainly not going to lose sleep over a bunch of dead Romulans but I am expected to have the Tear returned so blowing up the ship might not be in your best interests. Do you understand?"
Zane and Maril exchanged a glance "Yes sir." Zane answered thinking the last mission wasn’t so hard after all.
"Good. Your Romulan will be aboard in two days and will give you a more detailed briefing. I want you to sail as soon as his feet touch the deck. My requests for more ships fall on deaf ears when they see that three quarters of my task force are in port. Any questions?" There never were. "Dismissed. Good hunting gentlemen."
<<<NRPG>>>
Ok, homework for all of you. Read over the mission brief from our last mission with the Issahi…its on the web page and called Unified Front. I knew those mission summaries would come in handy one day.
And so the ball rolls…
More to come at the briefing.
Kevin: Please set up the briefing at your earliest convenience.
Don’t have time to proof read…sorry for any errors.
Respectfully,
Andy
________________________________________________________________
-Captain Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN
-Commodore Robert Steele, Commanding TF ZINDERNEUF
-Lieutenant Kurt Mitchell, Chief of Security, USS CALLISTO
USS FEYNMAN: Thibodeaux, LA
by Kevin Thigpen 11-30-1997
Stardate: 91130.2311
Scene: FEYNMAN holodeck; Thibodeaux Swamp
MD/Holodeck time: 5:59 pm in the bayou
The steady buzz of fist-sized mosquitos punctuated the constant sound of croaking of the frogs as they spied their juicy prey. Even with the frogs present, the mosquitos still outnumbered them.
The bayou water was still as ever a bayou was. Not a ripple disturbed the surface of the swamp aside from the occasional 'skeeter' that would alight on the surface of the swamp for a slight rest, only to be swallowed whole by the big mouth bass lurking just beneath the surface.
Here in the bayou, there were plenty of ways to die, the majority of them far from pleasant too.
At the edge of a pier, stood a ramshackle, thrown together pathetic excuse for a hut. Inside was an even sorrier looking man, covered with a pair of dirt-encrusted overalls, trouser legs rolled up practically to his knobby knees. The low light filtering in from the dense canopy of huge cypress trees along with the moist heat conspired to give one the impression of hell.
Of course the FEYNMAN's counselor wasn't that diabolical.
Near the depilated hut, on what passed for solid ground in this treacherous swamp, a holodeck arch appeared and in strode a Lt(jg) Loren Landers clad in clothes befitting the scenery. Outfitted with an explorer's vest and short-sleeved shirt, proper long legged khaki trousers, waterproof boots, and a matching fedora, Loren looked the part of an expert, adventurous unnamed and fictional archaeologist.
Casually tipping his fedora to block out a ray of sunlight that had managed to find it's way through a hole in the overhead canopy of trees, Loren made his way to the hut and it's inhabitant as the sun slowly dipped down below the horizon.
Jesse Doucet sat reclining seemingly totally oblivious to the physical world except the swamp weed on which he chewed vigorously.
Without looking up, the man, who looked to be in his late fifties but was in reality only early forties, stated, "Jesse been expecting you, I gua-ran-tee. Flat-bottoms down the shore. I takes ya...."
"Won't be necessary," stated Loren, anticipating Jesse's offer to act as guide. "I have some friends who'll be here shortly. Guide the first group to the cabins, the other groups as they arrive will have to fend for themselves."
Jesse narrowed his eyes at the man's last statement. To him it seemed incredibly cold-blooded, but who was he to argue with a man willing to pay what he had to get himself and a few of his friends through that accursed swamp. Jesse simply shrugged and leaned back into his chair and continued his chewing, swatting the occasional mosquito that bothered to land on him.
About a minute away from the cabin, rested a flat-bottom boat. The bottom of the boat was of course flat, with a huge fan protruding from the back to act as propulsion.
Off in the distance, Loren heard the tell-tale sound of something large slipping into the water. Quietly, he smiled to himself, knowing full well that the 'something large' was a more than full-grown albino 'gator' known to the locals as Betsy. It was rumored, and Loren was sure Jesse would share this with the first group to arrive, that Betsy had eaten an entire group of adventuresome college students who'd visited the swamp on a dare from colleagues of theirs.
Loren reached around behind the propeller on the back of the boat to start the motor and the raucous noise of the boat's motor penetrated the unusual stillness of the swamp. Hopping in the driver's seat, Loren steered the boat towards the rocky island that was to serve as the briefing place for the group. As the only truly piece of solid ground in the swamp, Loren knew that the others would have very little trouble finding it.
Of course, the things that populated this swamp would have very little trouble finding Loren's colleagues as well. As he steered the boat onward, Loren smiled speaking aloud, "Welcome to Thibodeaux Swamp."
[SNIP]
<<<<<<<Intraship Communication>>>>>>
To: Senior Staff
From: Lt(jg) Loren Landers
Re: Mission Briefing
As per FEYNMAN tradition, the mission briefing will be held on the holodeck. Included in this communique are specifications for clothing appropriate to the holodeck scenario. In addition, to this are maps to the briefing location within Thibodeaux Swamp. See you shortly.
Lt(jg) Loren Landers
P.S. Don't fall into the water.
<<<<<<<End>>>>>>>>>
Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
Lt(jg) Loren Landers
USS FEYNMAN CNS
[NRPG: Well, here it is. I didn't put too much detail in it, because I wanted everyone's imagination to run wild. As I am not from a very scenic place in the world, and I enjoy writing about stuff I know, I decided to bring us to, of all things, a swamp. Not a happy place but definitely an exciting one! As a side note, I imagined the 'gator' to be about length of a Ford Escort and very heavy<BG>, and they do get that big, in the movies. Have fun.]
******************************************************************************
"Concern for man himself and his fate must always form the chief interest
of all technical enddeavors...in order that the creations of our minds
shall be a blessing and not a curse to mankind. Never forget this in the
midst of your diagrams and equations."---Albert Einstein
******************************************************************************
USS FEYNMAN: Farewell to Arms
by Michael "Mike" Dailey 11-30-1997
SD: 91130.1430
MD: (Just after reaching port)
"Ivan, to your LEFT!" barked Ens. Heywood, levelling his MARK-VII rifle at the Gorn trooper who had just rounded from the shuttle's nose. Both P0/2 Karr and Ens. Heywood's rifles emitted brilliant streaks of blue energy, sending the Gorn into nothingness. J.C. nodded an approval to Rory for his quick thinking, he would speak to Mr. Karr about his inattention later.
Across the shuttle bay, J.C. glanced at Mr. T'boc's squad, likewise engaged in a fire fight with the Gorn marauders. Motioning for his squad to advance, they began forward to reinforce T'boc's position.
>From six meters away, two Gorn emerged from on top of the VON BRAUN, laying down a trail of sizzling bolts at their feet. The squad rolled and pivoted into cover, returning fire. One Gorn was eliminated, while the other took a glancing blow to the shoulder, knocking him off the shuttle, onto the bay deck with a resounding thud. SCPO T'boc moved in, a double-tap stun assured the Gorn would remain where he landed. That was the last of the Gorn boarding party, the FEYNMAN was once again safe... in the holodeck at least.
Removing his helmet, J.C. called out, "Computer, end simulation!". Immediately, the mock shuttle bay fizzled into non-existence, replaced by the familiar black and orange holodeck grid. Glancing at his chronometer, he scowled at the sim's results. The fourth drill today, and they had only improved by 20 seconds.
Securing his rifle strap across his back, he wiped the bit of perspiration from his face. The senior Security NCO approached the centre of the room, "Squads, fall in! ATTENTION!". T'boc's voice seemed to reverberate with authority, though he spoke like someone reciting a poem. All four squads, the full FEYNMAN security contingent formed ranks.
Pausing a second, J.C. admired how sharp his department looked, donned with full defence armour and weaponry. However, looks meant little when staring down the barrel of a Gorn disruptor, or Dominion Hyper-laser, or a Borg energy implant, all of which they had faced earlier today.
Walking over to the squads, J.C. took his position, flanked by Senior Chief Petty Officer T'boc on one side, and Ens. Rory Heywood, the ACSO on the other.
The faces before him showed determination, yet he could see they were tired. Repelling the ship from boarders four times in one day had it's draining effects on one's energy.
"14 Seconds better than last time, however I know we can still improve. A few seconds more may be all the bridge or engineering needs to cheat fate into our hands." One more drill, perhaps Romulans this time, upping the difficulty level by a few percent too.
"Take a fifteen minute break, and be prepared to run through it again," ordered J.C. To his right, Rory called out,
"Squads, DISMISSED!". They broke ranks, a few making way to the replicators nearby, while others to take care of necessities in waste extraction. A few left the holodeck, glancing at their watches so as to not be late in returning. The image of a cool glass of Tirellian water filled J.C.'s mind, and began towards the replicator.
"Lt. Allard," came the voice of T'boc. J.C. turned to the NCO, who by Vulcan standard years was much older than his CO, but when converted to Federation Standard, they were of comparable age.
"Yes, Mr. T'boc?" asked Allard, slightly slowing his pace to the replicator, his thirst mounting with the passage of each second.
"If I may, Sir. I've observed that repeated repetition of a given task in a short period of time usually causes a marked drop in performance..." J.C. grinned at his senior NCO.
"So T'boc, you're telling me they've had enough for today."
"Not at all, Sir. I would never presume to give you orders, nor would I openly disagree with an order you have given. I am merely bringing an observation to your attention, one which I feel may be crucial to your planning."
- Was he being TOO hard on them? * he wondered. Originally, J.C.
had been quite angry at the stolen shuttle amidst the last mission, the entire reason for the drills. A little training never hurt, he told himself, but perhaps he had over done it. But, J.C. wouldn't second-guess himself.
"Last drill today, T'boc. Then we'll call it quits," said J.C. Only a few more ahead of him, then the Tirellian water would be his.
"Understood, Sir," said T'boc.
"Mr. T'boc?", called J.C. The SCPO turned back, his familiar stance with hands clasp behind his back.
"Sir?".
"Thank you." Arched eyebrows, followed by a somewhat quizzical look returned the CSO's comment.
"Of course, Sir," said T'boc as he departed. J.C. turned to see the last person in front of him selecting a carbonated cola beverage.
[Bridge to Lt. Allard] came Maril's resounding voice, echoing about the holodeck. J.C. tapped his comm badge inside his helmet, his uniform communicator buried underneath the torso armour.
"Allard here, Sir."
[Incoming message for you, Lt. From SB ALPHA, flagged priority 3.]
"Acknowledged, Sir. I'll take it in the holodeck control room, Commander," replied J.C. He called out to Rory, having him keep an eye on things until he returned. Making his way to the control room, J.C. felt the weight of what was sure to be bad news. Had something happened to his brothers Kevin or Brandon on Terra, or his grandparents on Deep Space 5, or even his uncle Bauer on ALPHA perhaps?
J.C. shuddered at the memory of the last time he had received horrible tragic news, and had to force himself towards the comm console.
Keying in his id, J.C. sat and stared while the blue letters glared back at him from the screen. Minutes past, while he read the simple message over and over again, thinking of those who had died under his command, and the other crewmen of the FEYNMAN who had also given their lives, Dr. Glin'kharr and the others..
And of his fellow crewmen and officers, Meleah, Maril, Dr. Mac, Koreth, Jenn, and of course Loren. While he was relieved at not reading the loss of another loved one or other such catastrophe, his stomach churned, abound with mixed feelings nonetheless.
[SNIP]
All of his belongings, his entire life aboard the FEYNMAN contained in two duffle bags, one slung across his shoulder, the other in hand. His few civilian clothes in one, his books, antique phaser, and other mementoes and items in the other.
Memories of the past year filled his head as he wandered through the corridors. The first senior officer's briefing, where he had found himself underwater of all places.
Images of the past missions replayed once again, into the Coalsack with Grey Fleet, the Xanthandi encounter, the Reavers and Husnock escapades, the wascally adventure on Karrest, and finally their recent trip back in time.
J.C. recalled his trip from ALB to EPSILON, the first glimpse of the FEYNMAN, full of energy and glowing as the typical green Ensign on his first posting. A warm smile cast itself over J.C. as some of that same energy had once again rekindled itself inside the CSO.
Taking a deep breath, J.C. prepared himself to make his final rounds, intending to keep things quick and simple. Starting with the entire Security contingent, J.C. filled with pride as T'boc and Rory had the squads formed and looking as sharp as ever. Rory tried but failed to conceal his excitement, but J.C. couldn't fault the Ens., who was now acting CSO.
In turn J.C. bid thanks and farewell to each of the senior officers, to Dr. Mac for her bedside manner that seemed to heal people quicker than any medication could.
In the Science Labs, Lt. Meleah for her understanding when no other human could.
>From the shuttle bay, Lt. Jerran for his support, in ways no one else cared about.
Amidst the always busy buzz of engineering, LCDR. Koreth's keen knowledge had saved their skin many times over, J.C.'s own more than once.
On the Bridge, Commander Jenn for her light-hearted wit, always filling the crew with her charm and smiles, regardless of her own feelings.
From the XO, perhaps the person J.C. respected the most on the FEYNMAN, not for the many 'talks' to get an errant J.C. back on track, but for his unique wisdom and insight, something the CSO would always remember, stopping to take yet another look at any problem before him.
Into the Ready Room, J.C. stood before Zane. While they had never quite seen eye-to-eye, Allard knew the intelligent C.O. would make Commodore in short order, and soon have a fleet of his own. J.C. wished him the best of luck in his future endeavors.
Finally, the most difficult of goodbyes lay before J.C. Pausing before the door, J.C. reached inside the duffle bag to retrieve an item. Taking yet another deep breath, he jabbed at the door chime to Landers' quarters.
[Come in,] came the voice, followed by the familiar swoosh of the doors parting. Cautiously, J.C. entered the Counselor's domain. Loren was seated at his desk, reading something on his console.
"Got a minute, Loren?", J.C. voice was quite. This was going to be harder than he thought. J.C. choose his friends very carefully, preferring the closeness of a few to the casualness of many, yet in the Counselor a friendship had developed between the two. Perhaps it was their closeness in age, or some other aspect, but regardless saying goodbye to his closest comrade on the FEYNMAN was not an easy task. Loren looked up from the console, donning his typical grin.
"Sure Justin," replied J.C. Only his brothers and Uncle Johan called him by his given name, and on the FEYNMAN Loren and Bat took the place of his family. Seeing J.C. bags, Loren's face became one of curiosity.
"Ready for shore leave already?," he asked. Gesturing to the two bags, "wow, I didn't know there was _that_ much to see on OZ."
"I..." faltered J.C. * Damn, I HATE this! * "I'm not going on shore leave, Loren." He handed his PADD, loaded with his transfer orders to the CNS. A moment later, a very uncommon speechless look became the Counselor.
"Just received it a few hours ago," said J.C. "And I was ready to nab you and find something like the WALL on OZ!" jeered J.C.
"Any idea where to?", asked Loren. J.C. shook his head.
"Old man Crowell was CSFO when I left ALB, and I've never met Adm. Fairweather, yet." said J.C.
"Neither have I," replied Loren. An uncomfortable silence enveloped the two junior officers.
<Kevin, take it away!>
"Um, before I head off, I... wanted to give you this," J.C. handed Loren one of the old novels from his antique collection, one of J.C.'s favourites. Loren brushed his hand gently over the cover, turning it over to read the title,
"Mr. Midshipman Hornblower, by C.S. Forester.... copyright 2144! J.C., this book is old!"
"Well, it's not a first edition, but I still enjoy the story... hope you will, too!"
"Thanks, Justin...." Loren faltered a bit, the first since J.C. had known the CNS.
"I have too..." "Look, if you..." they both began a once.
"I have to get moving. Hopping a ride on the EISENHOWER as far as DELTA, then a D-shuttle all the way to ALPHA. Maybe I'll have time to see my uncle Bauer." J.C. glanced at his wrist chrono, "The EISENHOWER leaves in about 25 minutes..."
"I'll be furious if you don't stay in touch," said Loren. J.C. had seen Loren angry on a rare occasion, not a welcomed sight to behold.
"You can count on it, Loren." The ominous awkwardness once again clouded the room. J.C. offered his hand, the last goodbye for the FEYNMAN.
[SNIP]
The corridors seemed barren while en route to the transporter room. The doors parted, the lonely Eng. tech manning the post while in the FEY lay in port. J.C. presented his transfer orders, and climbed onto the padd.
As he turned around, J.C. gazed for the last time at the star ship called FEYNMAN, before the transport effect dissolved him away to OZ.
Submitted,
Mike Dailey
Splatter2@qtm.net
******** * NRPG * ********
Alas, this is my swan song gang. I have regrets about leaving the FEY, when back in July of '96 saw a new ASR player fresh from ALB take his first post aboard. However, I've been offered another position, one which I feel I cannot turn down. I'll still watch the great writing and excellent missions this crew cranks out in the newsgroup.
I wish each and ever one of you my very best not only in your RP/ASR endeavours, but also in RL. May your dreams and imagination carry you as far as in ASR. Good luck one and all!
Sincerely,
Mike Dailey
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+ | "A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head-on and licks | | it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away." | | - Commander [Dr.] Phillip Boyce, 2254 CMO USS ENTERPRISE NCC-1701 | | | | Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard - CSO USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG | | Lt. [Dr.] D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - UNASSIGNED SILVER FLEET | | Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny - CNS USS BURKE GREEN FLEET | | Lcdr. Ion M. Steiner - L.C. SFDITF TEAM ALPHA S.F. Diplomatic Task Force | | Capt. Johan Bauer - COMSFDITF "All I ask is a tall ship..." | +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
