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<font style="font-size: large; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">TOTAL JANUARY 1997 POSTS: *TBD*</font>
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<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: An Easy Escape?</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 1-1-1997</h4>

Stardate: 90101.1439<br>
Scene: The Wall<br>
MD: 10.1915<br>

Krysa looked out from under the table. Her eyes widened as she spotted the
Captain, dressed in a beer stained Tuxedo punching a very tall Bolian. Zane
seemed to have the upper hand, yet the Bolian refused to fall.

Krysa moved carefully out from under the table, still on hands and knees
and reached out grabbing the Bolian's left foot and jerking quickly. The
Bolian tumbled to the ground and Krysa jumped to her feet to avoid being
crushed under him.

"I thought you and Meleah were shopping," he said throwing a very drunk
Ferengi out of his way.

"We were," she grinned back stepping to avoid the falling Ferengi.

The circle of Feynman officers was moving closer to the exit when the first
of the Marines entered the establishment. Bat roared, "The back way!"

Krysa found herself stepping over fallen bodies as they moved back in the
direction they had come. Heading toward the back didn't seem to be quite as
difficult as going toward the front as most of the bodies were already
down.

A slender Kzinti suddenly rose up from the floor in front of Krysa and she
roughly kicked up, her knee connecting with his chin, with a loud crack.
The Kzinti sunk back to the floor and Krysa stepped over him, continuing to
move back in the direction Bat had motioned to.

"Halt!" she heard marines yelling from the front of the bar. A gentle push
from behind kept her moving and soon a bright light shown through a door
not to far ahead. She ran through it quickly, happy to find several of her
crewmates already waiting in the service hallway behind the bar.

"Do we have everyone?" Ens. Landers called.

"I think so," Bat said. The group as a whole turned and began to run down
the hallway. As they rounded a corner the officers of the USS FEYNMAN ran
face first into a contingent of three Starfleet marines with Stun rifles
pointed at them. So much for an easy escape, Krysa thought.

Regards,<br>
Lt. Krysa Jenn<br>
***<br>

NRPG: Sorry guys, I couldn't resist :} Don't know who else is with me and
Ens. Landers and Bat, but I'm assuming most everyone :}:}

Kristen & Scott Gant<br>
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm<br>

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: A Few Changes(and a trip to Security Central)</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 1-1-1997</h4>

SD: 90101.2300<br>
MD: 10.1930<br>

He sat in an armchair next to a glass table. His parents had sent him <I>Jeckalla's Gaze Across the Ocean</I>, a novel by a respected author from Motuxi, Maril's home planet. For some reason his parents had thought he would like it. He had let it sit there for a few weeks without touching it. Now that he was reading it, though, it was actually quite good. Of course, it was hard adjusting back to full Tamarian, but Maril was understanding the plot.

He looked up from the book as the door chimed. "Enter," he said, standing up.

The doors opened and WO Bellad Jafel, Maril's aide, walked through. Maril's smile turned into a skeptical frown as he saw a traveling bag slung over Bellad's shoulder. "Are you going somewhere, Jafel?" Maril said, putting a bookmark in the book and placing it on the table.

Bellad smiled uneasily. "I'm leaving for Bajor. My mother became ill about a week ago. I have to check on her, and make sure she can take care of herself."

Maril nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm sorry to lose you, Jafel. Do you think you will be able to come back?"

Bellad shrugged. "I can't really know until I get to Bajor. I'll see what I can do, though."

Maril extended his hand. "Until we both see the mountain."

Bellad grasped it and shook his hand. "May the Prophets guide you."

With that, Bellad turned slowly and stepped back through the doors.

Maril sighed and picked the book back up. He would have to find a new aide, at least for the time being.

Laying aside the book, Maril sat down at the table, in front of a standing console. "Computer, link me to a subspace beacon to the Tamarian Union, towards the planet Tyul IV."

<Link forming.>

After a few seconds, a computer voice stated, <Jesen who traveled, say in the elbin's voice the owl.>

"Azelti Maril and Perun Tuelchi."

Within minutes, the smiling form of Maril's mother appeared. "First ray of light, Onta!" Perun said happily.

"Sunrise, mother." The conversation turned to happenings back on Motuxi and around the Federation, and other news. Finally, though, his mother had to cut off the connection, although he did ask her to send some Tamarian music to load into the Feynman database.

Turning the console off, Maril smiled and grabbed the book. He turned to the page he had been on, and started reading. Rikabo searched the abandoned house on the beach. Suddenly, a noise caught his attention....

[Epsilon Security to Lieutenant Commander Onta Maril. Would you please
report to Starbase Security Central.] 

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

NRPG:<br>
First of all, happy New Year, everyone!<br>

I just hope you guys don't get into too much trouble at the Wall. I have a vision of Maril having to go to the SB Epsilon brig to clear all of you. :)

And eek in what array that they were inne:<br>
And at a knight than wol I first biginne.<br>
A KNIGHT ther was, and that a worthy man,<br>
That fro the tyme that he first bigan<br>

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: The Tank</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by 
Andrew Catterick 1-2-1997</h4>

SD: 90102.0930<br>
MD: 10.1925<br>
Scene: Outside the Wall<br>

<I>
Jerran walked down the corridor just in time to see his crewmates standing
in front of a pai of marines holding stun rifles. He shook his head with
a smile, and after debating with himself for a minute on whether or not to
let them spend the night in the drunk tank, he stealthily sneaked up
behind the guards and simultaneously gave them both a pinch to the nerves
at the base of their neck, letting go to hear a pair of satisfying
thumps, and seeing the faces of his friends staring in disbelief.

"I should have known you'd be hear, Krysa. Did someone get in your way
while you were trying to go to a fifty percent off sale?"

"Funny, flyboy. Now let's get out of here before our friends wake up."

As the group began to leave the scene Zane moved closer to Jerran.
"Assaulting marine MPs Mr. Jerran. That's quite a serious offence."
</I>

"Only if there are witnesses." Jerran replied with an evil smile.
"Besides what would happen if the FEYNMAN was needed for an emergency and
you were all in the 'tank'? I had Starfleet's best interests at heart."

"Well then, I commend your actions....unofficially of course."

"Of course." Jerran replied.

"Ahhh! The book!" Zane said as he came to a halt.

"What book?" Jerran asked, uncomfortably aware that they were
still very close to the wall and angry marines.

"Go on ahead I'll catch up."

_______________________<br>
MD:10.2045<br>
Scene:Drunk Tank, EPSILON Security.<br>

For a being that can not sleep 'waking' from an unconscious state
was extremely disorienting. As he lay there, his senses slowly coming
back he began to piece together what had happened. He had returned to the
Wall and had retrieved the book and was quickly making his way to the
turbolift when two MPs had confronted him. He had identified himself and
had started to pull out his Starfleet ID. That was when one of them
pulled out his stun stick.

He slowly raised himself into a sitting position and gazed around
the room. There were at least thirty beings in a variety of heaps strewn
throughout. He recognized many of them from the Wall, including
the Nausican who's jaw he had smashed. Struggling into a stand the stench
of the room and the various bodily fluids he had been laying in hit him
and he used every ounce of his will not to vomit. "Guard! Guard!"

"Quiet in there!" A voice growled. As the marine approached he
poked his stunstick at Zane menacingly. "What do you want rummy?"

"Private if you ever want to see corporal you'll go and get your
CO and tell him *Captain* Zane wants him down here right now."

Without a word the private turned on his heel and marched back
down the hall. Five stagnant minutes later a marine sergeant appeared.

"Private Jones here tells me you think your a Captain, little too much
booze today or do you have an ID to back up your story?" The marine knew
exactly who Zane was because he had examined his ID card right before he
had consigned it to the trash receptacle.

"No my ID has been taken but if you contact the FEYNMAN, my ship,
they'll vouch for me."

"Uh-huh. Do you know how many drunks try to pass themselves off
as Fleet personnel to get out here. No dice, buddy. The regs say that ID
or not you stay in here for 24 hours to dry out."

"I haven't even been drinking!" Zane protested.

"Sure doesn't smell that way." The sergeant replied smugly.

"Take a blood sample."

"I'm not a medic." There was nothing like making a naval
officer's life hell.

"Look sarge my ship leaves in twelve hours on a very important
mission that has lots of lives depending on it." Zane lied. "You want to
explain to the admiral why this mission is in jeopardy?"

"As long as I'm following the regs the admiral can't touch me."

"Maybe not officially but I'm sure you've been around long enough
to know Admiral Nicholas, he will make his displeasure clear. I hear the
belt mines need more security."

The marine jabbed his deactivated stun stick into Zane's stomach.
"You better take a nap cause your in here for 23 more hours. I follow the
regs." With that he stalked back down to his office. Once there he
activated his comm. "Get me the senior officer aboard the FEYNMAN."

"What are you doing sarge? I thought you were going to leave him there."

"Listen you little maggot nobody's talking to you." He hated the
navy but the thought of being in the belt was something even worse."

<<<NRPG>>>

Gotta run hope there aren't too many spelling errors.

Max: Uh, could you uh bail me out.:)

Respectfully,<br>
Andy<br>

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

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Blah, blah!</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Jason Bostjancic 1-2-1997</h4>

SD: 90102<br>
MD: 10.1300<br>
Scene: Bridge<br>

Tarrant sat in the 'captains' seat and stared at the image
of Epsilon. Every once in a while another ship would come
into view and he would immediately go over the class,
specs, and where it was probably built. In other words...
Lt. Koreth was bored.

For once, the CEO had actually finished repairs to the
FEYNMAN early. He had been planning on checking out
some holoprograms for sale down on the merchant level
when the computer warning notified him that over 5 of the
senior staff had already left the ship. Grudgingly, Tarrant
returned to his quarters, then went to 10-F, then engineering,
and finally to the bridge for a shift.

<Lt. Jenn to the Bridge>

So they return thought the partial Klingon bitterly, "Tarrant
here Lieutenant. I take it you have returned?"

<Yes. A couple of us are down here in sickbay.. um, has the
captain returned or have you heard from him?>

"No word and no sign," a tinge of worry surfaced, "Is he in
any danger?"

<No, no. Well, I don't think so. Last I saw he was returning to
the Wall.>

Tarrant shook his head. Why that bar was allowed to remain on
the Federation Starbase at all was beyond him.

"That would explain your all being in sickbay. Would you like to send
a search 'group' to look for him?" Tarrant would have, but Krysa
was his senior.

There was a pause.

<No, I think the Captain can handle himself. But if we don't hear
from him in a few hours...>

"Understood - Bridge out."

....................
NRPG

Just a little something to state that I am still here. Sorry, but someone
had to return and Krysa drew the short straw. But I tried to leave
it open as to who else returned.

I'll leave the plea for bond money to Max to post. Maybe we should
leave Zane in there and see what happens when the Naussician
wakes up to find the man who broke his jaw in there with him. <G>

Respectfully,<br>
Jason<br>

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

Potest esse nur unus<br>

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Facing the Maril</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 1-3-1997</h4>

<I>
"Sir," Loren began addressing Krysa, "now that all that's settled, who's
going to tell Commander Maril what happened?"

There was another pause.</I><br>

"Well, perhaps we shouldn't disturb the Commander right now .." Krysa
began. She was getting worried that Zane had not yet returned. She watched
him head back into the bar despite opposition form his crew. And now he had
not yet returned. It wasn't likely he had headed back to wherever he had
been before .. After all his tuxedo was ruined.

She couldn't help but wonder where he had been dressed to the nines like
that. But she pushed those thoughts aside, after all it wasn't her
business.

"Lt.," said the growly voice of the FEYNMAN's CMO, "Commander Maril will
not be pleased if something's gone wrong."

"Do you think something's wrong?" Krysa asked, concern in her eyes.

Glin'kharr raised an eyebrow, "I am merely stating the possibilities."

Krysa frowned and began to pace. Facing the wraith of Onta Maril wasn't
something she wanted to do. But the Doctor was right, what if something bad
had happened to the Captain. They had been back for well over a hour and he
had not yet returned. Of course he was a grown man who could take care of
himself ..

She continued to pace for a few more minutes before her concern finally won
out over her fear of retribution from the commander.

She tapped her commpin lightly, "Lt. Jenn to Commander Maril."

<Maril here,>

"Sir, do you think you could come down to Sickbay for a moment. I have
something I need to talk to you about."

There was a slight pause and then, he answered, <I'm on my way.>

Scene: Sickbay<br>
MD: 10.2045<br>

Onta frowned at Krysa, "You were where?"

"The Wall, sir," she said.

The FEYNMAN's executive officer stared at the officers lined up in Sickbay:
Krysa, Ens. Landers, Lt. Allard, Lt. Meleah and the three junior officers
who had been dragged to the wall by Bat. "Now I'm not going to forbid
anyone from going to the Wall .. but a brawl!" He growled, "Who started
it?"

There was silence as they all fidgeted. Maril asked once again, "Who
started it?"

It was then that Maril commbadge chirped, <Cmdr. Maril, you have a call
from Epsilon Security.>

"Busnabi missing the Riini River!" Maril's oath came out loudly. "Who isn't
here, that was in this brawl in The Wall?"

"Well, sir," said Krysa clearing her throat, that's actually why I called
you down here. You see .. Well, Captain Zane is missing."

Maril's eyes widened, "Captain Zane was in the brawl at the Wall?"

Krysa nodded.

Maril sighed heavily and hit his commbadge, "I'll take it in my office."

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

***
NRPG: Okay I got to thinking about it .. and decided that everyone ought to
have to squirm just a bit. Sorry, Mike .. Even JC :}

Andy, Krysa isn't likely to ask where Zane was all dressed up, cause I
think she might be a tad jealous :}:} hehe, poor thing!

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

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Just Before the Storm</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 1-3-1997</h4>

SD 90104.0330<br>
MD 10.2050<br>
SCENE: Sickbay<br> 

"Doctor, could I use your office to receive the communication?"

Glin'kharr growled for a second, as usual. 

[There is a drunk man claiming to be from your ship. I don't believe him, but I had to check, sir. Regualtions.]

"I understand."

[Well, sir, if you could just come here and verify that he's not from your ship, I could be out of your hair...er, way, sir.]

Maril was still more impatient. "Look, Sergeant, I am the first officer of a starship. I have duties to perform. I can't waste my time going all the way to Security Central just to check to see if a drunk man is from my ship." Then, Maril remembered that the Captain was not back, and that he had supposedly been involved in the brawl. "Actually, Sergeant, I'll be right there."

As Maril walked out of the CMO's office and Sickbay, he noted to Lt. Glin'kharr that he should keep the charged officers in Sickbay until he returned.

SD: 90104.0200(GMT)<br>
MD: 10.1935<br>
SB Epsilon: Corridor near Security Central<br>

Maril strode down the corridor, rushing past other officers and wondering
why he was reporting to Security. What could have happened? Was he being
charged with a crime? No, if they were going to arrest him, they would not
have asked him to come; they would have found him and gone to him. But
what could it be?

Ahh. Here it was. Security Central and Brig. Maril walked through the
doors, and into a disaster area.

SCENE: Security Central and Epsilon Brig

Maril started to search for the correct cell, but was having no luck. Suddenly,
a voice called out, "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Maril turned to look;
there was an officer at a desk seemingly directing traffic in Security Central.

"I'm an officer of the USS Feynman. I have to verify if a drunk person is from my ship."

"Okay, I guess you can pass." "You Commander Maril?" Keinman asked, sweating a bit. 

Officers and Marines were running back and forth, trying to figure out who
all of the prisoners were. Meanwhile, the prisoners were sitting around the
entire Brig, just waiting.

Maril noticed an officer who seemed to be managing where everyone was
going, sitting behind a desk. After getting in a long line, he finally arrived to
the desk and waited for the officer to say something.

"So, what's your business here?"

"Lieutenant Commander Onta Mari, First Officer of the USS Feynman. I was
ordered to come here."

"Yes. Who was it that you wanted me to see." "Ummm...I'm actually not quite sure. Most of them are delirious, and a lot of them have claimed to be Starfleet." Maril smiled back, but his smile soon hardened. 

The officer looked down his list. "Oh, yes, a Sergeant Keinman wanted you.
Says there a drunk man claiming to be on your ship."

"Very well. Where should I go?"

"Uhh...Holding Cell C, the Drunk Tank. Watch out. There's a lot of crazy
people in there." The officer smiled knowingly.

"Thank you." Maril then started to walk down the line of cells. Reaching a
big one with a large group of people lying about with blank stares on their
faces, he was about to look inside when a Marine sergeant stepped in front of
him.

"You Commander Maril?" the sergeant asked, sweating a bit.

"Yes. Why have I been called here?" Maril said suspiciously.

"There's a drunk guy who says he's captain of your ship. I wouldn't think
much of it; he's probably just drunk."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Maril stepped around the sergeant and scanned
through the cell. Suddenly, his eyes fell upon a man in a tuxedo, leaning on a
side wall. "Captain!"

The man, who was now obviously Captain Zane, stood up and smiled.
"Hello, Commander."

The sergeant stood with his mouth wide open. "You mean you know this
man?"

Maril smiled. "Of course. Meet Captain Zane, Commanding Officer of the
USS Feynman."

The sergeant looked a pale white. "Well, I guess I can let you out then," he
said as he neared the forcefield control panel, feigning laughter. He reached
over to the controls and let the forcefield down as Zane stepped out, then put
the forcefield back up quickly.

"Well, I'm sorry I detained you,...sir," the sergeant said, pretending to be
friendly.

"No problem, Sergeant. No harm done."

Zane and Maril hurried through the masses of people until they were well
away from Security Central.

"Well, Commander, that's not an experience I'm likely to forget soon," Zane
grinned.

Maril smiled back. "Nor I, sir. Now, how exactly did you get in the brig?"

Zane sighed. "First of all, yes, I was involved. I think we need to talk about it i
my Ready Room, Commander, just as soon as I change out of this tux."

"You know, sir, I could have you put in the Brig." There was a faint smile on
Maril's lips.

"Sir, Lieutenant Jenn has told me that she and some other officers were involved in a brawl at the Wall, including yourself. Is this so, sir; and if it is, how am I supposed to discipline the crew?"

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

NRPG:
Stay tuned for the next episode in our never-ending (literally) saga, as the
senior officers (most of them) nurse their wounds and wonder just how good
the security sensors were in the Wall. ;) <g>

Well, I guess everyone's back now (at least, I hope so).

Okay, now how are we supposed to go around saving the galaxy if six of the
senior staff are being charged in a court-martial? <VBG>

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: The Pony Express</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Michael "Mike" Dailey 1-4-1997</h4>

SD: 90104.0930<br>
MD: -0001.????<br>
SCENE: Outside Sickbay - USS FEYNMAN<br>

Having just been released by Dr. Glin'kharr, everyone went their respective ways. The
group of FEYNMAN officers and crew that had required 'minor' attention from their little
'adventure' at EPSILON's 'Wall', and required the skills of their CMO and staff. Mostly
minor cuts, bumps, and scrapes for the lot of them. Nurse Tamy and Doctor Glin'kharr had
tended to them, all while the Doctor Grumbled about the foolishness of the situation.

Approaching a lift near the Pharmacy, J.C. considered checking in with Security, but
dismissed the idea. He was still on leave, and SCPO Alex Tamarov could handle the
minimal administrative duties while the FEYNMAN was 'in port', as the old Naval term
applied when wooden ships roamed Terra's seas and oceans centuries ago.

J.C. instructed the lift to proceed to Deck 5. After cleaning up and possibly a bite to eat,
he would catch up on some correspondence. The lift stopped on Deck 5, nicknamed
'officers country', as most of the FEYNMAN senior officers were assigned quarters here.
He proceeded on the Cabin 735, and the doors parted immediately as the internal sensors
recognized him.

-SNIP- Half hour later.

Sitting in his favorite overstuffed chair in the living area of his quarters, J.C. was
finishing the last of his dinner, a small vegetable salad with a light dressing and croutons,
followed by a hearty-sized serving of spaghetti and meatballs. After a shower to wash the
'Wall' smell off of him, J.C. had changed into a pair of jeans and his favorite navy
cardigan. He had chosen one of his favorite soft and light instrumental jazz pieces, and
dimmed the lights to a more relaxing glow. J.C. finished the last bite of spaghetti, and got
up to return the bowl, etc. to the replicator. *Hmm, if I had some company, this could be
fun* though J.C., considering the romantic setting he had created in his quarters for just
himself. Returning to the chair, J.C. considered what to do next.

"Computer," said J.C. "Personal Log Entry. Another mission tucked under the
FEYNMAN's 'belt', and here we are at EPSILON awaiting our next orders. While off
duty, Ensign Loren Landers, our new CNS, and myself engaged in some much needed
'emotional therapy' at the 'Wall' on EPSILON, a well noted high-class establishment. I ran
into an old acquaintance of mine, an upperclassmen from my academy days. He
'reminded' me of the old times we used to enjoy." J.C. rubbed his right eye, still slightly
sore despite Dr. Glin'kharr's attempts.

"I'm anxiously awaiting our next mission briefing, as FEYNMAN briefings go, they are
usually as exciting as the actual missions, sometimes better. Personally, I would love an
exploration mission. To find someplace, a planet, that no one else, at least no Federation
or Starfleet personnel have ever visited. As for Security, I have to meet with the two new
additions to my staff, replacements for the two who were lost on the Reaver base, the first
two I ever lost under my command. Computer, end log." said J.C. *Great, finish your log
sounding all morbid. Way to go. Oh well.*

"Computer, how many new messages do I have?" asked the CSO.

<You have 2 subspace messages, and two inter-ship communiqués'> Getting up from the
comforts of his chair, J.C. proceeded over the desk console, selecting the first letter, from
his older brother Brandon.

<nowiki>***********************************************************************</nowiki><br>
TX# 13fv-89fcf36cgtl<br>
SERVER ID - MCU103-97A42 [Mars Colonial University Mail Server]<br>
FROM: Allard, Brandon C.<br>
TO: Allard, Justin C.M. Ltjg. USS FEYNMAN NCC 66000<br>
DATE: December 26, 2407<br>

"Hello Justin! It's been a long time since I've heard from you. Well, I hope you have a
merry Christmas and happy new year. I talked to Kevin and Dad today. Kevin is home
from Wilmington for the holidays, but they were both kind of sad. This was the first year
all four of us were not together for the holidays. Dad said Kevin was really upset on his
birthday, the 16th. He really missed his older brothers. Dad had offered to send me liner
tickets to come home, but I told him by the time I got there, I could only spend one day,
and would have to leave. Starliners aren't starships, after all. Besides, I'll be home for
spring break.

"Speaking of birthdays, don't forget Dad's is next month. I was thinking if there was
any was possible you could get some leave.... I know, probably not. But still, it would be
a nice surprise for him. Things are going great here at MCU. I start my 4th and final term
here and am so close to the degree. Dad says I can represent you when you get in trouble,
but he's just kidding.

"Justin take care, little brother. I miss you. Every time FNN reports some Starfleet ship
lost or missing, we cringe, hoping it won't be the FEYNMAN. Write back soon.

Love,
Brandon

E.O.M.<br>
<nowiki>***********************************************************************</nowiki><br>

J.C. hit the key to toggle the next message, from his Grandmother on Deep Space 5.

<nowiki>***********************************************************************</nowiki><br>
TX# - 812cx-10074-8355<br>
SERVER ID - SF-DS5-143-009004<br>
FROM: Allard, Isabell Lcdr. - Deep Space 5<br>
TO: Allard, Justin C.M. Ltjg. - USS FEYNMAN NCC 66000<br>
Date: December 27, 2407<br>

"Justin dear, it's been such a long time since I've seen you or heard your voice. Too bad
the FEYNMAN isn't assigned to the Beta Quadrant. How are things on board the best
ship in the SILVER fleet? I've been keeping up with you, reading the mission logs and
such when time permits. Quite and interesting group you have there, Justin.

Things are non-stop here on DS-5. We just received word last week that the FDOC has
choosen DS-5 to hold a diplomatic 'conference' for all of the non-aligned systems here in
the Beta Quadrant. The conference will be held in February, and Commodore Bauer will
be here next week to conduct a preliminary 'inspection'. Captain Harrison, poor dear.
She's going wild. I don't think she likes the 'brass' very well. We're still sitting at just
below 80% fully staffed. Perhaps with the conference, Commodore Bauer will 'speed' up
our requests.

Sure you don't want to give up ship duty? A Starbase post can be fun, too? Just kidding,
dear. I know you're happy where you are. Your Grandfather sends his love. He's busy in
the Cafe, as it's lunch time now for Beta shift. He has the entire staff, but acts like they
cannot fill a napkin dispenser without his help! Some things never change.

<Commander Allard, report to Ops. please.>

Oh, it never fails. I love you dearly, Justin. Have a merry Christmas and happy new
year! Talk to you soon.

Grandma Allard

E.O.M.<br>
<nowiki>*******************************************************************************************</nowiki><br>

Submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
Splatter2@qtm.net<br>

Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard CSO - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant Commander Jordon Kabreigny - CNS USS BURKE - GREEN FLEET<br>

=======<br>
= NRPG  =<br>
=======<br>

Hello all. Kind of long, but I have wanted to do some 'mail' for a while now. Wonder if Maril will put Zane in the Brig. I'll make sure to triple security in that case.... and assign Jerry Jonas to PERSONALLY guard the CO.... <SBVEG!>

Cheers all<br>
Mike<br>

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Time to Move On</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by 
Andrew Catterick 1-5-1997</h4>

SD:90105.1000<br>
MD:10.2100<br>
Scene: Market Level, EPSILON<br>

</I>
Zane sighed. "First of all, yes, I was involved. I think we need to talk about it i
my Ready Room, Commander, just as soon as I change out of this tux."

"You know, sir, I could have you put in the Brig." There was a faint smile on
Maril's lips.</I>

Zane chuckled. " I guess I would deserve it."

"How exactly did you become involved in a brawl?"

Zane patted the book in his hand. The marine sargent had been
planning on selling it to an antique store after Zane had left but with
the way things had developed he had decided it was prudent to return it.

"I was down at one of the small shops purchasing this book. As I was
heading back towards the docks I passed by the Wall and Chief Larocque
came crashing through the window. It was only a matter of time before the
marines arrived so I dove in to help get everyone out. It seems the
FEYNMAN was well represented inside."

"Yes." Maril answered with a degree of distaste.

_______________________________<br>
MD:12.0800<br>
Scene: Outer office of CINCSILVER.<br>

Zane sat in the comfortable chair waiting patiently for a nod from
the admiral's secretary that he could go in. Ever since returning to the
FEYNMAN after the 'brawl at the Wall' as the crew had been calling it he
had kept a low profile on board. Getting thrown in the drunk tank wasn't
exactly something you wanted your crew to emulate, or your admiral to find
out about. Of course the black eye he was still sporting didn't exactly
help the situation. He still didn't believe Dr. Glin'kharr's explanation
as to why he could not remove the blemish, the fact that the doctor seemed
to take great pleasure in Zane's predicament didn't help either.

"Captain, you can go in now."

<<<NRPG>>>

Sorry very very short I know. Running behind and I wanted to get Zane in
to see the admiral so we can get back out there.

Respectfully,<br>
Andy<br>

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

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: New Faces, FEYNMAN Style</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Michael "Mike" Dailey 1-7-1997</h4>

SD: 90107.1630<br>
MD: -0001.????<br>
SCENE: Security Chief's Office

Looking at his face in a small mirror, the CSO lightly rubbed the still sore eye that he had received as a 'souvenir' from the recent trip to the famous 'Wall' on EPSILON. The eye was still a 'shiner', sporting a black and blue ring, but at least the swelling had gone down. *I still don't quite believe Glin'kharr's story about not having a single tissue regenerator in working order,* thought J.C. Putting the mirror back into a desk drawer, J.C. observed SCPO Alex Tamarov, the Security second-in-command. Sitting on the other side of the desk, the ACSO was unsuccessfully trying to hide some laughter.

"I take it you've never seen a black eye, Mr. Tamarov," said J.C.

"Sorry, sir. It's just..." he tried to continue, but laughter overcame him.

"O.K., Alex. O.K." said J.C. playing-up the sarcasm a bit. "Go ahead, get it out of your system." It was starting to be quite a hassle explaining the cause and circumstances of the black eye to everyone. Alex finally settled down enough to talk.

"...<gasp> Sorry, sir. I'm just <chuckle> glad I stayed out of harms way here onboard, where it's safe."

"Thanks for your sympathy, Alex." said J.C. Turning off the 'serious-mode', J.C. smiled at the ACSO, "Just between us," J.C. paused, leaned forward in his chair, and spoke almost at a whisper, "I had an absolute BLAST. Off the record, of course." said J.C.

"Of course, sir." Alex cleared his throat. The door chime to his office bleeped at them, signaling visitors.

"Come," said J.C. Standing, J.C. straightened his uniform. "Look sharp," he said to Alex, who did likewise.

The door swooshed opened to deposit PO/3 Jerry Jonas, escorting three new faces behind him. Two human males, and one Vulcan-looking young woman came in and lined up in front of J.C.'s desk. Jonas came to attention,

"LtJg. J.C. Allard and SCPO Alex Tamorov, may I present the three new additions to our team." J.C. nodded at Mr. Jonas. "Thank you, Jerry. Dismissed." said Alex. Jerry Jonas acknowledged his superiors, turned and left.

The first fellow stepped forward, handing his orders PADD to J.C., who motioned for Alex to take it. He would have plenty of time to read their records later.

"PO/3 Ian Steiner, reporting for duty, Sirs." Steiner stood 6'3, and was as bulky as he was tall. J.C. leaned over to Tamarov, glancing at Steiner's orders PADD. Transfer from the Marines. *Who would have guessed,* though J.C. to himself.

"Prefer starship duty to being a 'ground-pounder' Mr. Steiner." asked J.C. Alex, standing only 5"10', stared wide-eyed at Steiner. *This guy belongs on a Marine recruiting poster.*

"Yes, Sir" replied Steiner. "I would have become bored. There are more opportunities in this branch of the 'fleet, Sir." J.C. got up from his desk and extended his hand, half expecting the ex-Marine to break his wrist. His grip was firm but humane.

"You're right there, Mr. Steiner." said J.C. Turning his attention to the young woman in a Cadet uniform, with the marks of a Senior on her collar. J.C. also noticed the distinguishing facial features of the Vulcan woman.

Stepping forward, she came to attention with crisp Academy style. Immediately, she handed Mr. Tamarov her orders PADD. Alex shot a quick glance to his CO, both thinking the same thing *Hmm, she IS a sharp one* already anticipating their actions.

"Cadet Janine Toloy, reporting as ordered, per Commandant Kearsey's orders." J.C. winced at the mentioning of Kearsey's name. He had dealings with Kearsey once himself only three years ago, and was surprised to hear that the old battle-ax... Fighting off a cough, J.C. continued.

"You've chosen Security as a career, Cadet?" asked J.C. Once again, he leaned over to Alex in order look at her PADD.

"Not specifically, Sir. My career goal in Starfleet in to serve in the Judge Advocate General's office." said the Cadet. *Hmm, similar aspirations like myself.* He noted more 'feeling' in her words than most Vulcans he had known. Perhaps she wasn't all Vulcan.

"Very well, Cadet." said J.C. The last fellow, standing next to Alex, stepped forward. "And who do we have here," asked Alex.

"SIRS! PO/2 IVAN KARR REPORTING FOR DUTY, SIRS!", shouted the NCO. He stood at attention, perhaps a bit more stiff than even the Vulcan Cadet had. *One looks like a recruiting poster, and the other one sounds like one* Alex grinned to himself at the awkward pair.

"At ease, Mr. Karr" said J.C. The CSO gave a nod to Alex, to take this one. The ACSO scanned Karr's orders and service record.

"You've spent the last eight months aboard the SARATOGA-C? Why give up your post on a Royal Sovereign to serve on the FEYNMAN?" asked Alex. *Good question, though J.C.* as he wondered the same thing.

"Not my choice, Sirs. The SARA will be down for about five months for a major refit, and all except the Engineering staff were transferred for the duration," said Karr.

"Interesting story, Mr. Karr," said J.C., offering his hand to the loud NCO.

"Well, welcome aboard the FEYNMAN. Check in with the Quartermaster for cabin assignments." J.C. gestured to Alex. "Mr. Tamarov has put a copy of Security's duty/shift roster in your PADDS. Once you're settled in, report to the Asst. Watch officer on duty, and he'll assign a patrol to give you a tour of the ship. Dismissed." finished J.C. The new arrivals turned and left.

"Well, that was fun. No one even noticed you're eye," snickered Alex. J.C. rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"You're a riot, Alex." J.C. said, walking back around to the chair behind his desk. "That takes care of all the transfers." J.C. said as he sat down.

"Umm. There's one more, Lt. Allard." said Alex. J.C. frowned, not expecting another new face today.

"What, no one else has reported yet?" asked J.C., sounded a bit confused. Alex looked a bit uneasy, like a child confessing to a broken window.

"Well Sir, you've kind of had a hand in this one. For month now you've been urging me to get my commission.

After thinking it over, I've decided to go apply to the Academy." J.C. stood, mouth hanging open and totally surprised.

"Alex, that's great!" Then it sunk in. That meant J.C. would be losing not only the best assistant in the 'fleet, but also a good friend. J.C. quickly shook off the selfish thought. "I'll be very sorry to loose you, Alex." J.C. sat on the edge of his desk.

"I won't be leaving just yet." said Alex. "I need the two Command-grade sponsors, and I'm short one." Alex knew J.C. would sponsor him if he could, but only Commanders and above could qualify. J.C. imagined Alex probably chose his former CO from the LEXINGTON as the first sponsor.

"Tell you what, Alex. After the mission briefing, I'll mention something to the Captain and see if I can arrange a meeting with him for you. O.K.?"

"Great, Sir. Thanks." J.C. shook his friends hand, "No problem, ENSIGN Tamarov." said J.C. Alex immediately turned several shades of crimson. "Soon maybe, by not yet, Sir."

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink..." said J.C. they left for 10-forward. J.C. warned Alex, "Now if you ever run into Commandant Kearsey..."

Submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
Splatter2@qtm.net<br>

Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard CSO - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant Commander Jordon Kabreigny - CNS USS BURKE - GREEN FLEET<br>

=======<br>
= NRPG  =<br>
=======<br>

Hello everyone. Just a filler until the briefing...hope it's a good one. Here's a little trivia...

1 - What is Starfleet Academy's motto, in Latin?
2 - What is the translation in Terran (um, I mean English) <G>...

Cheers!<br>
Mike<br>

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: A Concert, Excellent Idea!</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 1-8-1997</h4>

Stardate: 90108.1858<br>
Scene: Sickbay<br>
MD: 10.2100<br>

The officers who had been involved in the brawl watched as Maril left
Sickbay, ordering them all to stay there until he returned. There was a bit
of grumbling from their CSO once Maril was out of earshot.

JC turned to Krysa, "*Why* did you do that?"

"What?" she asked innocently; her dark eyes sparkling with a mischievous
glint. She knew Maril tended to put on a stern face for new crewmen and it
hadn't been that long ago that JC was a new face on the FEYNMAN. It seemed
he was still stinging a bit from some run in or other with the Tamarian.

"Why did you have to have Commander Maril come down here! You could have
just as easily gone to see him." JC told her, "Then we wouldn't have all
had to face him."

"And face him by myself! No way!" She grinned.

"Isn't that your job as 2O .."

"What?" laughed Krysa. "To take the heat off the rest of you? No Mr.
Allard, it is not. Besides, you don't have anything you're hiding from our
good first officer, do you."

He rolled his eyes, "No .. and I'd like to keep it that way."

***<br>
MD: 10.2200<br>

They all had done as they were told and had stayed in Sickbay when Maril
arrived. They had sat around talking and joking about the brawl to pass the
time. At the first sight of him, the laughing stopped and they all stood up
at attention to face the XO.

<<NRPG: Max, did you have something you wanted to say :}>>

***<br>
MD: 11.2015<br>
<I>
"You'd better believe it, Mr. Stark," Krysa said with a smile. "Captain
Zane just walked in, so I think I'll go say hi. It's a pleasure meeting
you, LT, and welcome aboard."</I><br>

Krysa moved away from Lt. Jerran as he stood talking to his new AFCO. She
could feel just a bit of Jerran's pain at the loss of Jennifer, though she
wasn't sure that it was coming from him, or from her own memories as Jerran
rarely let his mental block slip when around her.

She walked up behind the tall captain and tapped his shoulder. He turned
and was greeted with a bright smile. "So how's Epsilon's brig?" she teased
him.

He groaned, "Please don't remind me. But at least I saved my book."

"You really need to avoid places like 'The Wall', Captain," she chuckled.

"Me. I think *you* were there before me."

Krysa nodded, "Well, I knew there was a reason I never go there."

He leaned closer to her and whispered, "Though I have to admit, I enjoyed
it."

Krysa grinned, "You did look quite relaxed .. almost in your element."

Regards,<br>
Lt. Krysa Jenn<br>
***<br>

NRPG: Just a little something for Krysa, since it's been a while since I
wrote. I love the concert idea, BTW. I was going to do something like that
way back when, but never got around to it with all the changes :} Krysa
didn't get to play cruise director long enough :}:}

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


<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Pre-Brief</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Mike Dawe 1-10-1997</h4>

SD: 90110<br>
SCENE: SB EPSILON - Admiral's Office<br>

<I>
> "Captain, you can go in now."</I><br>

The Admiral was his usual cheery self. In other words he looked
like he needed no reason to bite somebodies head off. "Hrrmf, come in and
sit, Captain. This may take a while."

While Zane entered and sat in the proferred chair the Vice Admiral
made some notations on a PADD and then touched a control that brought down
a viewscreen and called up the senior officers roster for the Feynman.
Zane did not like the looks of this as there were little indicators next
to several officers. This was not setting out to be your usual briefing.

"I have a mission for you to go out on but first we need to
discuss some personnel transfers."

It took a moment for this to sink in. Then Zane looked back at
the screen and over to Vice Admiral Nicholas again. "If those markers
mean what I think they mean, sir, then you will be gutting my ship of
senior staff."

"I have my reasons. Fleet has ordered me to begin setting up for
a new ship. Your ship has the steadiest crew rating going . . . "

"So you are going to break us up? That, with all due respect sir,
is insane."

The grey eyes flashed a warning at the Captain as the Admiral
stood and moved over to the viewscreen. "Well then Captain, what are you
going to do? Bonsai the careers of these officers by keeping them on
your ship? Answer the needs of you for a strong staff over the needs of
these individual officers? Have you had discussions with them about where
they want to be and what they want to do?"

Zane ducked his head and growled the answer. "I know my ship and
my people. We are a family."

The softness of the reply surprised the Captain. "Sometimes it is
time to let the younger ones go, even in a family."

"But there have been crews throughout Starfleet's history that
have remained intact and they have been some of the best crews, best
officers the Fleet has ever seen." Zane offered, it sounded desperate
even to him.

"True, and for every one of those individuals there are dozens
who watched their careers stagnate and die. You've been around the Fleet
long enough captain. How many lieutenants have you come across that have
been in for twenty-years. Sure *some* of them might be content with their
lot in life but damn few. Is that what you want for your people?"

The admiral's reply shot right through Zane because he knew he
was right. If he was in the place of any of his officers, career would be
a major concern. Staying on a destroyer forever was definitly the long
route to bigger and better things, his own luck aside. But it had taken
so long, so much work from all of them to get where they were. It
had gone beyond team, they acted as one. As hard as he tried he could not
picture the FEYNMAN going on with others. How could he trust anyone
as he trusted these people? How could he hold them back? *Besides,* he
thought, *think of the professionalism and training they could bring
throughout the Fleet*

"You are of course right admiral, its just quite a shock you've
hit me with. Hell, I look forward to a commanding a captial ship some day
so I certainly can't fault anyone under my command for having the same
desires. As much as I'll miss them if anyone is to be transfered I won't
put up any opposition."

Nicholas simply nodded sagely.

"These transfers, are they orders or do the officers concerned
have any say in the matter?" Perhaps there was still hope.

The Vice Admiral paused for a moment. "You know my policies on
that. I will not keep an officer who wants to move on and I will not send
one away if they want to stay on. If your people turn down transfer offers
that is their right to do so." He paused again and his eyes narrowed. "Not
that I don't trust you but perhaps I ought to be there when you make the offer."

Zane smiled back, happy with the news that the deal was not sealed
but just a possibility. "I wouldn't have it any other way. But you do
recall what our briefings are like?"

"I do. Send me a notice when and where and I will be there, I might
as well brief the entire senior staff at the same time. Call the meeting
and I'll be there." Azariah reached across his desk and shook hands with
the rising Captain. "I know you don't like the sounds of this and I can
sympathise. Given your reaction I wouldn't be at all surprised if the lot
of them decided to stay on."

Zane smiled. "Like I said, we are a family. But I do have one
other piced of business to discuss . . . promotions and awards . . . "

-fade to black-

<<<nrpg>>>
Well cats and kittens, set up the briefing and set the stage.

I am not serious about stealing characters, just my way of tossing a scare
at you. (did it work?)

I will attend whatever fiasco you set and brief you and send you off, with a
little more of a side show.

mike---always has to do things the hard way.

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Concert Jitters</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Jason Bostjancic 1-11-1997</h4>

SD: 90111<br>
MD: 11.2000<br>
Scene: Outside Ten Forward<br>

For the third time Lt. Koreth approached the doors to 10-F, and for the
third time he turned around and headed back down the hallway.
<nowiki>*What was I thinking when I agreed to this?*</nowiki> he thought.

It was like he was 6 all over again, preparing for his first performance
ever. Even then, Tarrant had felt the pressure to do well. Not for honor,
but for that childhood part that dreads failing before grown-ups. The
concert was a nightmare for the young violinist. He replaced the third
moment with the first, his tempo was erratic, and as a final insult a string
snapped near the conclusion.

The butterflies had not changed, nor the fear. Even as the Feynman's
CEO walked away from the doors, he told himself how rediculous it was.

<nowiki>*I've taken on a changling in hand to hand combat, performed
alterations and quick patches in engineering to save the ship ump-teen
times, co-led a team against the Reaver Base.. and made it out alive.
Now, I'm fleeing from playing a piece I've done literally a hundred times
as a kid.*</nowiki>

Were it not for Ens. Dunnon walking around the corner with his
date, Tarrant would probably have kept going.

The young officer paused to make the introductions.
"Sir. This is Ensign McKaren... Tara, this is Lieutenant Tarrant Koreth."

McKaren, dressed in the blue starfleet science uniform, expressed
her appologies for her attire, and continued to stammer out that she
had just gotten off duty.

"That's alright Ensign. I'm so rusty on this old thing that, if you enhanced
your beauty any more, you would become the main attraction and not I."
He grinned sincerely.. and tried to wipe his hands before they could see
the sweat that had accumulated. She blushed lightly.

"Well, we had better get some seats now before it gets too crowded,"
Dunnon nodded lightly to his superior and added, "Good Luck, Sir."

That had clinched it. He'd never be able to walk into Engineering
again if he didn't go through with it. So, Tarrant took a few deep
breaths and headed back to ten forward.<br>

<I>
Being a telepath did have its advantages considered Loren as he headed in
the direction he felt strong feelings of fear originating. As expected,
Tarrant Koreth stepped through the doors of ten forward with Loren and
Meleah standing there to greet him.

"Several talented FEYNMAN officers have decided to entertain us with
violin selections from the Terran composer Vivaldi. I sincerely hope you
find their music entertaining as well as moving."</I><br>

Tarrant closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His mentor's words, all those
years ago, rang in his ears for the first time in what seemed like ages.

"Let out all you keep within Tarrant. Let it pour into your music... forget
the how and the why. Your skills are there, let your emotions play the
music, feel the music. 'That' is your gift."<br>

<I>
Once again the music just seemed to be so natural for Tarrant as his bow
moved faster and faster along the violin. Effortlessly Tarrant
carried the listener from summer to fall to winter and spring. Loren,
for just a moment, was nearly overwhelmed by the feelings
of contentedness and serenity that Tarrant was creating as his music
affected everyone in the room.</I><br>

As the trio finished the final moment, Tarrant remained like stone, his
eyes still closed, instrument ready. It was as if somewhere, a part of
him had found contentness... They were opened by applause that
echoed throughout.

<NRPG>

Just a little bit of an addition. Comments?

So.. we are going to have a new mission sometime, right? Or
will Tarrant, Loren, and Meleah have to go on the road, and
leave the rest of the crew to start having Boxing matches at
'The Wall'?

Respectfully,<br>
Jason<br>

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

Potest esse nur unus

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Mail and Music</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Michael "Mike" Dailey 1-12-1997</h4>

SD: 90112.1300<br>
MD: -01.???<br>
SCENE - CSO's office<br>

<nowiki>*************************************************************************************************************</nowiki><br>
SERVER ID - SFC2-A37-9L01<br>
SUBSPACE MESSAGE X32CTR35654-2<br>
CODED - LEVEL DELTA-2<br>
TX - ALLARD, JUSTIN LtJg. USS FEYNMAN<br>
RX - KARRIS, GRAYEN LtJg. USS YORKTOWN<br>
RE: GREETINGS!<br>

Hello Grayen! How are things on the YORK?? Our crew just pulled into EPSILON a few days ago after a
difficult mission. I can't discuss the details, but it was hard for a lot of us here on the FEYNMAN, but this time was different for me, as I lost two people under my command. I had never faced death like that before.

Those two people in my department died in the line of duty, but that doesn't erase the loss.

Well, Grayen, I didn't mean to set a 'gloomy' mood for the letter. On the brighter side, if you ever happen to visit EPSILON, make a point to stop by 'the Wall', an interesting establishment. By the way, it is NOT under the 'fleets jurisdiction, if you know what I mean. Several of my ship-mates had some relaxing R&R there... Our ship's CMO patched us up quite well. <G>.

What interesting things have been happening on the YORKTOWN?? Keeping you as busy as I am? My ACSO told me yesterday he wants to apply to the academy, and go through the NCO's accelerated OCS program. As happy as I am for him, now I have the task of finding a replacement for the best damn ACSO in the fleet'. Word to the wise, if your ACSO is a gem, KEEP him/her.

My friend, I should close now, as I have a concert to attend in a few minutes. Go carefully in your travels, Grayen. Hope to hear from you soon.


LtJg. Justin C.M. Allard<br>
CSO USS FEYNMAN - NCC 66000<br>

<nowiki>*************************************************************************************************************</nowiki><br>

"Computer, send messages", said J.C. leaning back in the chair to relax for a moment. Spending over an hour writing letters to family and friends, the CSO has developed a pain in his neck. Rubbing the sore spot, J.C. glanced at the chronometer, just about fifteen minutes until the concert started. J.C. stretched, fighting back a yawn. Getting up, he headed for 10-forward and the evenings festivities.

Submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
Splatter2@qtm.net<br>

Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard CSO - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant Commander Jordon Kabreigny CNS USS BURKE - GREEN FLEET<br>

=======<br>
= NRPG  =<br>
=======<br>

Gary - Hello. Long time, huh? Hope your holidays were fun. There's about 8 inches of snow on the
ground here, and it's a lovely -8 degrees outside, and you don't even want to know what the windchill factor is... BRRRR! <G> Take care, and write back soon.

FEYNMAN crew, just finishing the correspondence, and then J.C. is off to the concert, and some
spirits. *HIC*

Cheers all!<br>
Mike (shivering in Indiana's version of Alaska...)<br>

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Peace and Quiet???</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Michael "Mike" Dailey 1-15-1997</h4>

SD: 90115.1100<br>
MD: -001.2130<br>
SCENE: CSO's Quarters<br>

Given a choice, J.C. preferred to relax with some soft jazz, either modern or old Terran, instead of classical pieces. However, that did not stop the CSO from having a wonderful time that evening at the FEYNMAN's first musical production. On his way out of 10-Forward, the CSO reflected on the concert, the first he had attended in quite some time. After the fabulous performance, J.C. bid his compliments to the FEYNMAN entertainers, who were still enriched in the after-effects of the standing ovation from their fellow crewmates. Though not an expert on Vivaldi and other contemporaries, J.C.'s ears picked up no flaws or errors in the performance. Each person played his/her piece beautifully, to combine their talents into a superb production.

Once back inside his quarters, J.C. wasted no time shedding his uniform and changing into some sweatpants and a navy coloured cardigan. Stepping out of the bedroom, J.C. went to the replicator, pausing just a moment to decide on what to have.

"Hot chocolate, with a shot of brandy," directed J.C. to the replicator. Seconds later, the large mug and saucer, steaming with the choco-liquor aroma fizzled into existence. Retrieving a stirrer, he carefully picked up the drink and gave it a few stirs.

Maneuvering slowly to avoid spilling the hot chocolate, J.C. sat in his favorite chair facing the
port-side windows, and the view of EPSILON. Cautiously he sipped the luscious beverage, still a bit too hot.

Sitting mug and saucer on the small end table, J.C. bumped the small treasure he had purchased a few days ago. Until now, he had completely forgotten about the little book he had found on EPSILON when they first docked. The past two days had been a blur, although a strange blur at that. The 'R&R' enjoyed by most of the FEYNMAN senior staff, then ship's business, and followed by the concert had not left much time for anything else.

Reaching over, J.C. picked up the small, leather-bound text, lightly brushing his hand over the spine of the book. Its antiquity even had its own scent, as if the leather text had been in some library for untold decades or more. The soft brown cover was faded and quite worn, but in small golden letters, "''Captains Courageous - R. Kipling''" could still be read. Turning the book over, J.C. opened it carefully to the first page, 'Origional copyright 1897, reprint 2171'. <nowiki>*This really WAS a treasure, as the fool shopkeeper parted with it for only two strips of latinum.*</nowiki>

"Not yet." said J.C. He set the book down for a moment, "Computer, access music library. Select an
instrumental-only, soft jazz piece, circa 2060. Play at 60% volume when ready."

<Searching.... Acknowledged.>
 
Soon the soothing sounds of piano, sax, light drums, and bone were mixing their musical magic into
perfection for J.C.'s ears. <nowiki>*Now this is perfect.*</nowiki> Taking a sip of the chocolate, which was now cool enough to drink. J.C. glanced around his quarters, and frowned. <nowiki>*Damn, I was going to get some things from EPSILON to liven-up this dull-looking place.*</nowiki> Outside of the few pictures of family and friends, the quarters were empty.

<nowiki>*Well, perhaps I'll have time to make a quick trip back to EPSILON tomorrow.*</nowiki> Looking at the chrono, it was 2130 hrs. <nowiki>*I'll relax, listen to the music and read for about an hour. I want to get a good nights sleep before the briefing tomorrow,*</nowiki> thought the CSO.

Midway through the first chapter of Harvey Cheyne's 19th century sea-going adventures, the door chime sounded. J.C. reached for his silver bookmark, engraved with a wolfs-head crest and lay it inside the book.

"Enter," said J.C. The doors parted to deposit SCPO Alex Tamarov, the FEYNMAN's ACSO. Upon entering and seeing his CO comfortable, Alex donned a guilty look.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir. It's nothing that can't wait..." said Alex.

"No bother, Alex. What can I do for you." The ACSO handed J.C. a PADD.

"I was relaxing myself in 10-f when Steiner paged me." Alex said, gesturing to the PADD. It was a shift-log entry made by the new BETA Asst. Watch Officer, PO/2 Ian Steiner. Alex continued,

"Seems O'Rorke ate something on EPSILON that didn't agree with him at all." J.C. chuckled a brief moment, remembering his recent misadventures with Klingon cuisine. "Steiner said Casey made the 2100 check in, then moments later asked to be relieved, and report to sickbay." J.C. read the rest of Mr. Steiner's log entry.

"He's feeling better, but Dr. Tamay wants to keep him overnight for observation?" asked J.C.

"Yes, she said it would be for the best. Some type of food poisoning or allergic reaction. She's not sure, yet but wants to complete some more tests." said Alex. J.C. signed it, and handed the PADD back to Tamarov.

"I though you would want to know immediately," said Alex.

"We'll stop by and see Casey after shift tomorrow," said J.C. <nowiki>*There goes my shopping trip*.</nowiki>

"I was thinking the same thing," said Alex, turning towards the door. "Good night, Lieutenant."

"Nite Alex. Don't drink too much. Bat would hate to carry you out!!" J.C. caught the wry smile on his ACSO's face as the door closed behind him. Picking up the mug, J.C. took a gulp. It was just starting to loose it's warmth, and took another gulp. Setting it down, he picked up the book, and opened it to his bookmarked place...

[PO/2 Karr to Lieutenant Allard]

"Yes, Mr. Karr. What can I do for you?"

[Sorry to bother you, Sir. I'm due to go on-shift soon, and I've found I still have no computer access or security authorization at all] <nowiki>*Did new transfers always have this much trouble settling in*</nowiki>

"Report to Mr. Jonas, the senior BETA watch officer. He can update your access.", said J.C.

[Thank you, sir.] said the relieved voice of Ivan Karr, one of the recent transfers the FEYNMAN had picked up.

"And Mr. Karr, I'll always be available to help you when I can, but remember to follow your chain of command.", J.C. hoped he didn't sound annoyed. It was just a problem that any of his senior NCO's could have handled.

[Aye, Sir. Karr out.] J.C. took a small sip of the remaining chocolate, which was not at all warm now. Getting up, he returned the mug and saucer to the replicator. The chrono showed 2215.

<nowiki>*Well, so much for relaxing..*</nowiki> "Computer, lights off." ordered J.C. Leaving the music on, he headed to bed. Thinking of the Kipling's novel, he wondered what far destination his dreams would take him to. Perhaps a journey like that of Harvey Cheyne's...


Submitted<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
Splatter2@qtm.net<br>

Lieutenant Junior Grade, J.C. Allard CSO - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant Commander Jordon Kabreigny - CNS USS BURKE - GREEN FLEET<br>

=======<br>
= NRPG  =<br>
=======<br>

Hello all... where is everyone??? Hiding from the snow? (Except certain lucky individuals in the
south (right Kevin, Joseph?). Just passing time until the briefing...

Cheers!<br>
Mike (time to shovel more.... snow ;)<br>

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Staff Briefing - The Beginning</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 1-16-1997</h4>

SD: Whenever the meeting is<br>
Science Lab 7<br>

Inside Meleah's personal laboratory aboard the FEYNMAN, there were two
figures hard at work. One of those figures was Meleah herself, the other
was her 'uncle', Arnold.

"Well, you certainly know how do things thoroughly," Arnold was saying,
referring to the incident on the asteroid.

"Would it not be improper to not do things thoroughly?"

"Certainly, if you're referring to your work. But when that thing got you,
couldn't it at least *not* cut through anything? Synthetic skin isn't easy
to come across, you know." He finished fixing the last bit of skin to the
metal, then stepped back to admire his work. "Well, that looks good."

Meleah held her arm up for inspection. "It does indeed. Thank-you, Uncle
Arnold."

"Anytime, kid." He happened to glance towards the computer and saw a light
flashing. "You've got a message."

Meleah went over to the computer and had a look. "Uncle," she said slowly.

"Yes?"

"Have you any ideas about a scenario for a mission briefing?"

Arnold thought for a moment, then a smile slid across his face. "Just one."

<nowiki>-----------</nowiki><br>
Later, outside Holodeck 1<br>

"That just about does it, kid," Arnold said. "Now for the preview." He
stepped inside the holodeck, motioning Meleah to stay where she was for the
time being.
Five minutes later he came back out. "Magnificent! Your friends are going
to love it! However, they might need something to hold onto."

"I am sure they will be fine," commented Meleah, thinking of the
rollerblading experience.

"Well, you'd know best. Let's just hope that no-one slips," he said with a
huge grin on his face.

<nowiki>------------</nowiki><br>
Two hours later, Science Lab 1<br>

"Congratulations, Cadets West and T'rae. For your contributions on the last
mission, I hereby promote you to Cadet First Class." Meleah handed over the
appropriate jewellry to one stunned cadet and one very calm cadet. T'rae
was typically Vulcan, and therefore did not smile but Lianna was ecstatic
about the promotion. A couple more missions and they would be able to
graduate.

The other newly promoted crew members offered their congratulations. Meleah
then checked with her internal chronometer and discovered that it was
half-an-hour till the senior staff briefing began.

<nowiki>-----------</nowiki><br>
Holodeck 1<br>

As Meleah entered the holodeck, she looked around at the barren land
surrounding her. Red dirt covered the ground as far as the eye could see.
Occasionally, there were small shrubs sprouting out of the dirt but
certainly, the area was basically desert. (NRPG: Any idea yet?)

In front of her was the one of the biggest natural structures she had ever
seen. Well, if not the biggest, then the widest. And basically, it was a
rock. Ayres Rock, to be precise, which resided in almost the centre of
Australia. If one thought about it, it may look similar to a long, round
loaf of bread, with lots of creases in the side. But a trip around the base
of it would take around 30-40 minutes.

Ayres Rock, or Uluru as it was later called, was renownd for its
magnificence. It was naturally red, but in the early morning or eveing, the
red shone to a beautifully briliancy. Meleah had set for it to be early
morning, so that the sun lit up the Rock as the officers came through the
doors of the holodeck.

Advancing towards the bottom of the Rock, she found the pathway commonly
used to ascend to the top. There was a rope to one side which people could
use to hold onto, as the climb was fairly steep.

Her magnified hearing picked up the sound of something approaching. Meleah
turned and saw a dingo standing 10 metres away. She compared it to the
wolves commonly found in America. It was similar in size but it's coat was
a golden-orange, and its fur was not as long. It was proven that the jaws
of a dingo were deadly as they could hold a baby's head in them and have
sufficient force to break the baby's neck.

Deciding not to test whether the dingo was friendly or not, Meleah started
to advance up the side of Uluru. The first two hundred metres or so were
simple to climb, although a little steep. After that, the rope disappeared
and one had to climb the rest of the way by oneself. Especially near the
top, the slope of the rock was quite steep.

Once at the top, Meleah looked down and surveyed her surroundings. The view
was magnificent. Desert as far as the eye could see. There were no
vehicles, no hotels in the area, as the timeframe was set before white
settlement of Australia (1788, in other words).

On top of the rock, Meleah had thought of putting a canopy over the seats
and table so that the others would have some of the hot Australian sun
diverted away from them. Just before she made her way to one of the seats,
she saw a figure a the bottom of Uluru. She hoped that whoever it was, was
prepared for a long climb in the hot weather. She *had* remembered to put
the reminder on the bottom of the message she had sent out to the officers,
to wear suitable clothes for a *very* hot meeting <G>.

--------
NRPG:

There you go everybody, enjoy your climb! I'll read all about it when I get
back. Assume Meleah is at the meeting until the very end.

Sincerely yours,<br>
Lt Meleah, CSciO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>

Melanie.

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Give the Dog a Bone?</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 1-17-1997</h4>

Stardate: 90117.1346<br>
Scene: Staff Meeting<br>

Krysa stepped into the holodeck dressed in a comfortable cotton shirt and
shorts, having been prepared by Meleah's message to wear suitable clothing
for a *hot* meeting. Krysa cringed as he remember the climb up Mt. Selaya,
Teri had planned for them... without such a warning!

She was especially glad she had brought a wide brimmed sunhat as the
morning sun burned down on her. She stared in awe at the massive red rock
in front of her, shining with a brilliancy she'd never seen before. It was
truly amazing.

Of course seeing the path with a rope, she wasn't amazed any longer.
Another steep climb. She wished she'd thought to wear hiking boots. Her
sandals somehow didn't see appropriate for the climb. She was even less
thrilled as she spotted the dog baring his teeth at her.

"Nice puppy," she whispered, "I wouldn't hurt you." Though she couldn't
help but think he was more likely to hurt her then vise versa. All she
needed was a quick way around to that rope. Once up the path a ways, she
was sure the dog wouldn't be able to get to her.

"Need some help?" she heard Bat's voice behind her. She turned to see the
Bartender there with his usual cart of food for he staff meeting

"Just a minor inconvenience here," she said. Then she grinned, "You
wouldn't happen to have a nice turkey leg or something would you."

"You're thinking of your stomach at a time like this!"

"Not my stomach, Bat .. my neck. Something to give the dog, so we can get
to the rope."

Bat chuckled. "I'm sure I've got something here. But you realize anything
we give the dingo, means less for you and the rest of the crew."

"I think I can handle it." she said.

Bat threw the dingo something to keep him busy for a while and grinned at
Krysa. "After you."

Krysa looked from the cart to the path. "How do you intend on getting that
cart up there anyway?"

"Now don't worry about me .. I'll be fine. You just run along. I may have
to keep the dingo busy for a bit."

Krysa laughed and headed to the rope and began her climb.

Regards,<br>
Lt. Krysa Jenn<br>
***<br>

NRPG: Well Krysa will make it to the top .. tired of course :} But she'll
be there soon.

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

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: They Don't Make Rocks Like This Anymore</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 1-20-1997</h4>

SD 90120.0200(GMT)<br>
Holodeck 1<br>

Maril stepped through the holodeck doors and into the furnace of Felkisco. Earth's hot sun streamed down over the entire area. Evidently, this was either a tropical location or it was summer in this spot. It did not really matter; Maril was still starting to feel the heat.

Of course, he had taken the precaution of
wearing a hat and protective
clothing against the sun, as the reminder had
suggested. Given the locations of
the earlier mission briefings, though, he probably
should have brought a
runabout. It seemed that all of them were like
this. Why couldn't any meetings
be in a comfortable, 20 degrees Celsius room? Of
course, it kept the innovation
of the crew going, so it was not all bad. But he
was starting to be tired out from
just the briefings.

As he neared the walkway to go up to the huge
slab in front of him, he
noticed a grinning form on all fours. For a
second, he thought it was Dr.
Glin'kharr. But the fur was the wrong color, and
this one was not wearing
glasses. Suddenly, Maril realized that this
creature's intentions were not
friendly. That was when the being looked up and
spotted him.

Maril began to run as quickly as he could
towards the walkway, but it was
no use--the creature was too close to the walkway
to get there before it did.
Realizing this, Maril turned to go around the huge
rock, and the four-legged
creature followed. Of course, this was pure folly
on Maril's part--the rock was
so wide it would take at least half an hour to
circle it, and the being would
easily gain on him during that period. Perhaps,
though, there would be another
way up or he could double back.

His chance came. The creature was only 1.5
meters away when it leaped at
Maril. Maril ducked down and rolled out of the
away, and the being missed
him by almost a meter. Maril quickly got up, and
so did the toothed hunter, but
Maril had gained some time, and he was running
towards the walkway, not
away from it.

Finally, he reached the base of the walkway
and started up it. Maril
watched, thankful, as the being did not follow.
He let out as much a sigh of
relief as he could muster, and continued up the
path, which was getting
gradually steeper, eventually becoming a somewhat
vertical climb.

After a long walk and climb, Maril reached
the flat top. Lt. Meleah greeted
him cheerfully. "Hello, Commander. You did very
well getting around that dingo."

Maril did not return the smile. He was
beginning to think that Meleah might
have a sense of vindicitiveness. "Well,
Lieutenant, you certainly created a nice
simulation. I trust the safeties were *on*."

Meleah reacted matter-of-factly. "Of course,
sir. I would never risk the
safety of the crew for a holodeck simulation."

"Good." Maril then turned towards the main
group of people, which was
steadily getting larger. Some of the officers had
barely broken a sweat, while
others looked almost ready to collapse, though not
quite.

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

NRPG:
Well, Maril's going to seize control of these
briefings one of these days. Then
we'll see how you hold up. :)

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Briefing</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by 
Andrew Catterick 1-21-1997</h4>

SD: 80121.1600<br>
MD: 1.1200<br>
Scene: Holodeck 1<br>

Zane entered into the Australian outback with the instant thought
of <nowiki>*Glad I dressed appropriatly*</nowiki>. He looked around at the landscape
approvingly and wondered why Meleah had chosen this as the briefing
environment. Actually, he had spent the past two days wondering exactly
what the android would choose.

He glanced over at the sound of a playful yelp. To his right a
dog, *he knew it was actually called something else*, was sprawled out on
the ground idly gnawing on a large bone. It had a hopeful look in its
eye.

"Sorry boy," Zane held his open palms towards the animal, "I'm as
hungry as you."

Slightly dejected the dingo returned its full attention to the
bone and the captain turned his to the 'Rock' before him. He'd spent most
of the morning working out and the idea of climbing this thing didn't
appeal to him. A terse conversation with the computer convinced him he
wouldn't be able to get a round the parameteres the SCI had set without
a concerted effort so resigned himself to his ordeal, after all everyone
else had had to climb. With a sigh of resignation he set out....

"Well its about time!" Bat exclaimed as the captain came over the
ridge. He walked over and handed him a cool drink.

"Thanks."

"Enjoy the walk." Bat asked with a smile.

"Only the first hundred meters. Then I started dreading the
return trip." He gratefully accepted a second beverage.

"I'm thinking a large water slide might be the way to go."

"You have my full endorsement." Zane replied with a laugh. "If
you'll excuse me I have a date with a buffet."

As he walked over to grab some lunch he quickly surveyed the
group. Just about everyone had arrived not including the admiral Zane
noted happily. For not the first time he wondered what Nicholas had up
his sleeve.

<<<<NRPG>>>

Just a short one to get me here. I've held up things long enough.

I'll be updating the roster tonight/tommorrow. For those of you who
haven't sent one out can you let me no about any
promotions/demotions/transfers etc. for your NPCs.

Respectfully,<br>
Andy<br>

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

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Briefing About to Start</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Mike Dawe 1-22-1997</h4>

SD: 80122

He grunted as the heat hit him full in the face. He could feel the
dry air suck the moisture from his body as he looked out and up at the rock
before him. "Hrrrmf, they can't have it on level ground? Nooooo no no.
They have to see if they can kill the old buzzard before he gets to them.
He tried for a site to site transporter but it was blocked. Although he
could have over ridden the block he decided to play it fair and square.
Patting his side pouch he strode towards the great rock sticking out of the
desert.
The dingo was fat and happy when the large human stepped across its
body and started the climb up the side of the rock, following the rope. It
languidly rolled its head to squint into the sun as the man pulled himself
up and along the face of the rock. While it would only be a 300m vertical
climb the distance covered was about 1.6 km. If it had been a real dingo
its spirit might have lifted with the anticipation of another cardiac
delivered take-out dinner. Instead the safeties on the deck closely
monitored the stress and respiratory levels of the old man. They were
neither impressed or disappointed at the fact that his breathing stayed
steady and his pace was a steady calm one. It didn't stop monitoring either.

The buffet was beginning to show signs of wear by the time a
grizzled hand appeared at one edge of the rock followed by an arm and then a
close cropped grey head. Grunting, the Vice Admiral waved of offers of
assistance and finished the climb under his own power. He stretched and
looked around at the officers assembled. his gaze finally rested on Zane
and he curtly asked. "Have you popped the question yet?"

Zane sighed and shook his head. Azariah waved as though to say 'get
on with it' and then crossed the rippling surface of the rock to check out
the buffet.

<<<nrpg>>>
briefing after a short shot from Andy.

mission will be tomorrow or the next day, rain or shine

mike--->who actually reads and studies sometimes

<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: What Could Have Been</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Jason Bostjancic 1-23-1997</h4>

SD: 80123<br>
MD: 1.1215<br>
Scene:Top of Ayer's Rock, Holodeck 3<br>

<I>
"As you know SILVER has been hit hard as of late. We've lost a
lot of invaluable and experienced personnel. Besides its standard
operational position in the fleet, a destroyer's role is to turn recruits
into experienced officers who then move on and in turn help develop the
next crop. It seems that time has come. The admiral has tapped you
three for transfer."<br>
</I>
<br>
'Transfer', it was as if a ton of bricks that had fallen on the CEO.
It was no hidden truth that he had plans on command somewhere in his career...
and when Krysa was promoted above him to the OPS position all those
missions ago he had seriously thought of asking for a transfer. But,
now was a chance... though the taste in his mouth indicated not
victory, but a biter-sweet residue when one thinks of would could have
been.<br>
<I>
<br>
"Each of you must decide whether or not to accept transfer or
remain aboard." He looked at each of the three briefly. "Staying aboard
isn't necessarily your best career move. 'Up or Out' is not only a saying
especially with SILVER's losses and the dissolving of GOLD fleet. There
are a lot of good officers out there but very few good positions.
Consider the decision very carefully."

"But quickly." The admiral added as he sat. "This ship has a
mission and will be lifting soon."
</I><br>
<br>
For Tarrant, it boiled down to one question with many parts, that somewhere
he had already answered... was he ready to leave the Feynman? True, he
had come far from the Ensign just out of the Academy, from the officer who
left a doomed scout to his post on the Feynman. But, it was the things he had
yet to learn, things he needed to experience, before advancing to another and
bigger part of his career that made the decision overwhelmingly simple.

Lt. Koreth stood and faced towards the Captain and the Admiral, who was
'politely' sampling large amounts of Bats cuisine.

"Sirs. If I may speak freely?"

"Go ahead Lieutenant" answered Zane after getting the nod from the
Admiral.

"I will serve the fleet to my best capabilities regardless of where I
am posted. But on my own behalf, I do not believe I have learned
everything the Feynman has to teach, to leave now would be to
deny me the experience I need to be a better officer... I therefore
respectfully request to remain on the Feynman at this time."

"Opportunities like this don't come often Mr. Koreth, " said Zane,
"and the fleet needs experience of 'any' type... even incomplete.
perhaps you should think more on this decision?"

"I understand Captain, but my request is unchanged. the Feynman
is where 'I' believe I belong."

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

Not that it wasn't tempting <G> But I couldn't bare the thought
of leaving the ship before getting chance to take command in
that super Captain's Chair....

BTW Andy, how is the chair as of late? :)

Respectfully,</I>
Jason</I>

Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE</I>
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN</I>

Potest esse nur unus</I>