ORIGINS: USS Hood June 2010

---

Star Fleet: ORIGINS - Main Page | View the ORIGINS Trailer! | New Players | ORIGINS Player Resource Library | Join Star Fleet: ORIGINS
SIXTH FLEET: Main Page | Fleet Roster | USS Endeavor | USS Hood |
TWELFTH FLEET: Main Page | Fleet Roster | USS Constellation | USS Intrepid |

---

ORIGINS: USS Hood Story Posts
Last Updated: 2262.059

• USS Hood Story Only Post Archives ^
• USS Hood Wiki Page
• USS Hood Post Archives
• USS Hood OOC/NRPG Discussion Group
• Stardate Keys

Total Posts: 420+

• June 2009 - 36 Posts
  
• July 2009 - 20 Posts
  
• August 2009 - 7 Posts
  
• September 2009 - 12 Posts
  
• October 2009 - 19 Posts
  
• November 2009 - 68 Posts
  
• December 2009 - 46 Posts
  

• January 2010 - 57 Posts
  
• February 2010 - 46 Posts
  
• March 2010 - 31 Posts
  
• April 2010 - 23 Posts
  
• May 2010 - 27 Posts
  
• June 2010 - 28 Posts
  
• July 2010 - 17 Posts
  
• August 2010 - ? Posts
  
• September 2010 - ? Posts
  
• October 2010 - ? Posts
  
• November 2010 - ? Posts
  
• December 2010 - 8 Posts
  

• January 2011 - 11 Posts
  
• February 2011 - 15 Posts
  
• March 2011 - ? Posts
  

---

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Follow Up

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2261.155

MD: Between missions

Setting: Chief Engineer's Office, USS HOOD

<<From Scott’s post Trouble Behind, Trouble Ahead>>

Gar leaned back in his chair. "Why don't I know who the First Federation is?"

Steele shrugged. "No one seems to; in fact, had the RUTLEDGE not run across one of their marker buoys a few days ago, we might not be going to meet them now."

Merrick glanced at Steele with a raised eyebrow. "Something up?"

Steele nodded. "Seems RUTLEDGE destroyed the marker buoy, and they sent FESARIUS to investigate. A short skirmish ensued, and RUTLEDGE is now being 'held' by the FESARIUS- literally: they've got RUTLEDGE in a tractor beam, and she can't break free with the damage she's sustained. And so Starfleet is sending us."

Gar pursed his lips. "Figures- once again, we're going in to clean up someone else's mess."

"That's why we get paid the big bucks," Steele quipped.

"How long until we arrive?" Merrick asked.

"Two days- if Gar's engines can sustain warp 6," the Captain replied, eying the Andorian engineer out of the corner of his eye.

"I'll get you there- you just worry about getting the RUTLEDGE out of trouble." Gar paused, then added, "I'll get a emergency response team together to help out, assuming you DO manage to secure RUTLEDGE's release."

Merrick sighed, then, afterwards, allowed a thin smile to cross his lips. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be Starfleet if we had any idea of what we're about to face."

Steele returned the cynical grin. "Truer words were never spoken, Commander."

<<new>>

“Why isn’t the original ship that made the first contact responding?” Merrick asked.

“They’ve moved on to bigger and better things and we are the closest starship to assist.”

“So if they go along with the first ship why jump on Rutledge?” Gar groused. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Jack shrugged. He had asked himself the same questions and didn’t really have any inspiring answers. “The full report is on the computer. Basically there was a lot of brinksmanship, bluffing and some good old fashion threats but in the end it appeared that the First Federation’s idea of first contact is to employ some heavy psychological testing to see who they’re talking to.”

“You’d think with a ship that size they could be a bit more trusting.”

“I don’t know.” Jack replied, “size and power isn’t nearly everything. As Nero found out. I’d like to believe that HOOD is up to the same standard. And lets not jump to any conclusions. According to the logs the eventual first contact had been very promising this current problem might be the fault of the RUTLEGDE. Either way its our job to find out and defuse it.”

NRPG: I’m hoping this mission will be more ‘first’ contact/diplomatic then just charging in with phasers, I do like the testing angle….but I have no master plan so we’ll see how it develops. And we don’t necessarily have to stick to having Balok as the FESARIUS’s captain…or anything that happened in the TOS episode.

Respectfully Submitted,

Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC-1703

STAR FLEET: ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Nya, I Was Framed!

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2261.163

MD 1.020

Scene: Bridge, USS Rutledge

The distorted image of the being known as Arack positively glared at his captives through the viewscreen. "You attacked our warning buoy even though your compatriots assured us that you were nonbeligerants."

"It nearly destroyed my ship," Captain Jamison protested. "We had no choice but to defend ourselves. As I recall from the ENTERPRISE's report, you tried to do the same to them."

"That is not what our logs indicate of this incident," Arack countered. "Before the buoy was destroyed it transmitted a record of your encounter with it. Your Neo Federation vessel charged it, weapons blazing, obliterating it utterly and without cause."

"This is *not* what happened!" the Captain insisted. "We are on a peaceful survery of this sector. Check your logs again. We issued your probe friendship and welcome messages from the moment we encountered it. Then *it* charged us and nearly blew a hole through our hull."

"Enough!" Arack shouted. "Your merciless nature will be dealt with appropriately. One of your sister ships approaches as we speak. The fate of your lives will be determined by their actions. End of Transmission!"

NRPG: Oh you *know* that it will not be that easy.

Respectfully Submitted,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Take Us In

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2261.164

MD: 2.1000

Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD

“Captain we’re entering the system.”

“Secure from warp and bring us to a full stop.”

“Aye sir.” Their was a brief pause as HOOD shed the warp field and bled off her speed. “Answering all stop.”

USS HOOD hung at the very edge of the system with her bow pointing inward. All sensors were at full as they swept inward looking to find any information that might give them an edge or an answer. Jack rose from his command chair and circled the bridge slowly waiting for the results. The entire bridge crew were intent on their stations as each sought to discover anything that might be a threat to their ship. The only noise was the wurring of Lieutenant Hemux’s scanner. Finally the Denobulan looked up and faced the captain.

“Report.” Steele ordered needlessly more out of a need to do something then on the chance the science officer would have waited to be asked.

Hemux had made a complete scan of the system but could tell from the look on the captain’s face that he wasn’t interested in any of the stellar phenomenon or the dozens of other discoveries that had peaked her scientific curiosity. That would have to wait until the mission was completed she realized with a mental sigh. “I have located USS RUTLEDGE. She is currently in orbit of the third satellite of the fifth planet.”

“Any sign of the FESARIUS or any First Federation marker buoys?”

“None appear to be evident.”

Jack sat back down in his chair.

“Hail the RUTLEDGE.”

After a brief pause Yoshi looked up from his console. “No reply captain.”

“Keep trying.” Jack replied as he turned his attention back to Hemux. “Lieutenant?”

The science officer briefly re-consulted her scanner. “All emissions are within normal parameters. Lifesigns present and match the posted numbers for that class of vessel.”

“Could be comm problems.” Sean said, not really believing it.

“That would be way too easy. And they can see us if we can see them. This long with out voice contact they should be flashing their running lights or using any number of methods to get our attention.”

“So they don’t know we’re here.”

“Or they don’t want to be seen.”

“Or they can’t respond.”

Finally Jack looked back at Sean. “Take us in.”

“Helm all ahead ½ impulse power.” Sean ordered. “Yellow alert.”

Respectfully,

Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

STARFLEET: ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Security Ready

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2261.166

MD: 2.1005

Scene: Security Briefing

Lieutenant Commander Rick Payne looked out across the sea of red shirts in front of him and hoped, as he often did, that all the same faces would be there for the next briefing. He knew odds were often against that desire; security officer aboard a starship was continually listed as one of the most dangerous jobs in the Federation. Which made him even prouder of his team as took in their ‘ready to get the job done’ faces. He still had a lot of work to do to get this department where it needed to be but he was gratified to know he had a lot of talent and heart to work with.

“Ok people here’s the situation. HOOD is currently heading into the system to rendezvous with USS RUTLEDGE. As you’ve seen from earlier briefs, every indication is that RUTLEDGE is operating normally. However they have failed to respond to repeated hails and if they know we are here they’re doing a frakkin good job of ignoring us.” He paused to make sure the ramifications of that news sank in. “Now, if everything goes to plan HOOD will match orbit, someone aboard RUTLEDGE will look out a window and wake up their comm. officer. Crisis averted. If it doesn’t go to plan we will likely get tapped and I want to make sure security is ready. If communications are not immediately established we will likely send over a landing party. Probably the CO or exec, an engineer, the doctor and a heavy security presence. Team one is already the ready team so Mr. Lowl it will be you and your team that will accompany the landing party.” He waited for Lowl to nod his acknowledgement before he continued. “Plan B will mean a large security contingent may be necessary to beam over to secure RUTLEGDE. If this happens Teams 1 through 8 will be tapped and Teams 9 through 12 will be backup. Should this happen I want to make clear to you all that we will be beaming onto a presumed friendly ship and what ever has necessitated our involvement does not mean we go in phasers blazing and dropping anything that moves. Unless its called for. And that will be my call or one of the bridge officers. Phasers will be initially set to stun. We don’t want to be killing any of the good guys. Is that clear.” The sea of red nodded in unison. “Good. Any questions?” There were none. “Very well report to your team leaders for specific assignments.”

NRPG: Not looking to storm RUTELDGE, just some security CD/fluff.  ;-)

Respectfully,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS

And

LCDR Rick Payne
SEC, USS HOOD NCC 1703
STARFLEET: ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Chocolate Temptations - JP

by David Kiel and Brian V. Mansur

SD 2261.167

MD Pre-Mission

<NRPG: Continued from Dave & Brian's "Every Ship Needs a Trill Girl" before the current First Federation Mission>

Scene: Commissary, USS HOOD

Sean watched with quiet delight as Cedria took a long, satisfied draft from her fruit juice through a standard duty federation bendy straw. She noticed his stare and brushed a few wayward strands of shimmering brown hair to the side. He seemed to have forgotten about poor Mister Tamura entirely and was paying closer attention to her drinking habits than was normal for a first officer.

"Gluco Heaven," she gave him a smile and a distracting flutter of her lashes. It had been three lifetimes since she'd had the kind of lashes that worked well for that sort of thing.

Sean grinned, "Girl with a sweet tooth huh? I should introduce you to some chocolates I know from Earth."

Cedria's emerald eyes focused with interest, of all of the Earthlings technological developments chocolate was probably their best one. "Oh? Do tell."

"They come from a little known, lavishly delicious Chocolateria called Stam's. The ones with pistachio filling will melt and flow over your tongue. Absolutely exquisite."

Cedria wrinkled her nose, doubting any chocolate could lift pistachio up to the level of exquisite. "You're a tease, Commander."

Sean guffawed. "You're one to talk, Lieutenant."

"True," she admitted, tapping her bottom lip with a long red nail as she considered her playful behavior. She leaned over her drink as though she'd already forgotten it and beamed, "So when do I get to meet one of these bon bons?"

"Ha! Why do I get the feeling you aren't going to let up short of a diamond necklace?"

Cedria winked, "Well talk about that later, but these chocolates you speak of, where might they be hidden? You do have some aboard with you right?"

Sean shook his head in open amusement at this outrageous young woman. "All right then, Lieutenant. You may try one of the Sacred Candies of Earthly Bliss. But there is a ritual to be observed."

"As long as it doesn't involve weird alien insects," Cedria cautioned hurriedly. "Or venomous rabbits."

Sean put up a reassuring hand. "Fear not. Your sensibilities will always be respected. The ritual is simple. You must answer truthfully any four questions I ask of you. Then you may try one chocolate of your choosing."

"Four questions for one chocolate?" Cedria remarked incredulously, "I am a joined trill with over eighteen lifetimes of wisdom ... well," she reconsidered, "fifteen lifetimes of wisdom and three more that were not so wise. Still, that's a lot of wisdom, more than you mere humans. My price would have to be eight chocolates per answer."

"I could not go more than one chocolate for three answers."

"Five per answer! Otherwise it's robbery and I should report it to the Captain."

"Talk about robbery," Sean replied in mock horror. "I should demand six answers given how hard those divine dainties are to come by."

Cedria leaned back and put a hand on her hip. Brushing her hair back again and pouting ever so slightly she did her best approximation of a stricken and put-upon orphan child. Sean forced himself to look away and said, "Very well. Seeing how you are a lovely woman," he turned back to her, "and have served your Federation well, I suppose an exception can be made. Two questions only then."

Cedria glared incredulously, "And how do I *know* they are really worth two questions apiece? Make it three for each answer and it's a deal."

Sean shook his head and chuckled a little. "I couldn't let the master work of such venerable chocolate artisans go for less than a one to one exchange. It would be an insult to their craftsmanship otherwise."

Cedria leaned back over her drink and pressed her advantage, pursing her lips. "Two for one."

Sean seemed to think it over, then but held firm. "One for one is more than fair. After all, there should be at least a couple left for me."

"Very well." Cedria seemed mollified. She shook his hand with a light, gentle grasp.

"I reserved the port side observation lounge on deck 5," Sean said. "I'll pick my secret stash up from my quarters and meet you there."

"What?" Cedria said with a teasing tilt of her head, "You don't trust me with you in your cabin?"

"Hardly a concern," Sean laughed. "But if I'd asked you to join me there, you'd have just told me to go fetch them for you anyway. Besides which, the lounge has a panoramic viewport. And if we hurry, we'll see the Shinkai nebula as we pass by."

"Why Commander," Cedria said placing a palm below her neckline, "you *do* know something of how to treat a lady."

And in reply, it was Sean's turn to wink.

Scene: Port Lounge, Deck 5, USS HOOD

Sean walked into the port observation deck and immediately caught his breath. There Cedria stood at the window, backlit by the shimmering colors of the nebula. Mezmerized, he watched her flowing hair and skirt ripple seductively in the breeze of the room's fan unit.

As he contemplated her long legs and their curious pattern of leopard spotting, he realized he felt uncertain about moving forward so quickly. Then Sean considered the encouragement he'd received by the alternate Jeri and the knowledge that his own Jeri wouldn't have wanted him to continue the path he'd been walking since Vulcan. But for a moment, he just stood there, taking in Cedria's lovely figure.

Cedria, for her part, was a clever girl despite her solitary nature. She knew exactly what men liked and how to frame it. She had profiled herself along the backdrop of the picturesque nebula, carefully turning the directional duct flaps to take advantage of the ventilation system. For all her teasing, she recognized that the Commander was treating her and this was a fun way to repay the favor. With her arms crossed in front of her, she waited for him to make his move.

Silently, she considered his reflection in the plasteel. He was, tall with short brown hair, just long enough to affect that wavy lilt that made her want to reach out a mess it up with her hand. Tall dark and alien had always been her weakness, she mused; though that had usually been women. Sometimes being a Trill was weird.

Presently, Sean caught Cedria's gaze in the reflective surface of the viewport. Having been sighted, he put on a warm smile, stepped forward, and crossed the distance with his package of chocolates.

"Gorgeous." Cedria said as he strolled up to her side.

"I'll say," Sean agreed, mistaking her to mean the nebula. They had both seen umpteen thousand nebulas in their jobs: treacherous little things that made navigation a tricky hazard each in different ways. Though she had to admit this one was pretty up close and made for quite the romantic backdrop.

"We should make holo of you standing in front of that scenery," he suggested.

Cedria turned to him and smiled coyly. "A holographic pin up calendar this time? Might sell even better."

Sean thought he detected a hint of bitterness. "Are you sure that thing isn't really bothering you?"

Now Cedria's mood definitely changed. "Not at all, no. I don't mind the calendar because that's at least me," she admitted with a sigh. She paused, and for a moment Sean thought that was all she was going to say on the matter.

Then she said, "Alright, what I hate is whole crowds of people staring at me evaluating every little thing so they can find something to denigrate, to make themselves feel better by comparison." She looked back into the star field and huffed in frustration. "I'm the Prime Minister who brought Trill into the Federation. I'm the Prime Minister who got shot. I'm the musician who couldn't control any facet of his life. I'm the champion of two Trion meets." She absently pushed back a strand that had blown across her cheek. "Everyone on Trill knows me and whenever I return home I get stared at until I leave. All of the expectations are hard to take: living up to other people's imaginary constructs of me. A picture in a calendar on the other hand is something I can live up to pretty easily."

Sean stood there silently absorbing what she had told him for a moment. "I can certainly see how it couldn't be easy if folks are unfairly expecting you to be all the things of lives past."

Cedria considered his observation. "Yes," she agreed. Then she laughed, "On the strange side, it's usually all good attention on Trill, and the calendar, well that's not so good attention. Yet, I'm completely okay with the calendar and the attention on Trill makes me want to vanish into the woodwork. Or, you know, go 100 light years across Federation space to get away."

Sean nodded empathetically. "Well, what you do with any picture I take for you is up to you. I won't be sharing it with anyone else. But opportunities to make beautiful memories are rare enough in this life."

Cedria laughed and looked at him, eyes wide and sparkling. "You already took one didn't you?"

"Of course not!" Sean looked genuinely shocked at the suggestion. "That would be completely inappropriate."

Cedria waited expectantly for him to break into a sheepish grin and admit that he'd shot her without her knowing. When he remained steadfast, she exclaimed, "You're serious? You really didn't? Why Commander, that's so unnecessarily sweet of you. Go ahead then," she shook her hair and turned in profile to the Nebula, "there ought to be a picture given it took me an hour to get my hair like this."

"Really?"

"No. Eight minutes tops."

He snapped the holo through his communicator and set it so she could see it as well. "Just let me know and I will delete it ..."

She cut him off. "Stop it, it's great. I'll put it in my next calendar. Now then, it's my turn for one of you. Here face this way." She pulled him in front of the window and stepped back. Lifting her communicator, she fiddled with the visual settings. "Oh, and take off your shirt."

"HA!" He crossed his arms and smirked at her tawdry suggestion, which was exactly the pose she was looking for. SNAP.

Sean rolled his eyes. "Well, at least I know *that* won't appear on any pin ups. So," he said changed subjects, "What do you love about Trill? I've only heard of it."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her playful smile returning. "That counts as a question you know."

"Of course," Sean replied with a light chuckle.

"It's green, the air is cool and crisp. There's fog most mornings and the hills take a couple hours to wake after dawn. We followed a similar path to Earth though and almost wiped out our biosphere before we learned our lesson. The difference is that we nearly killed off a sentient lifeform. It was a long road back to green hills and clean air, and I was there for all of it. It's like the little town you grew up in, except that I grew up there nineteen times. Where's my chocholate?"

Suppressing a guffaw, Sean dutifully presented Cedria with a pretty maroon box, stamped with the golden Stam's oak tree logo. He opened the lid and let her see the candies inside.

Cedria was genuinely impressed. "Oh my gosh, they're adorable! That looks like one of those old fashioned windmills. And that heart with the branch on it!" She picked one up gingerly. "I don't want to eat them they are so cute."

Sean swelled with pleasure at her reaction. "I can empathize. But then again, some beautiful things were made to be ravished."

Cedria looked up from her close examination of the chocolate and gave him a playful, measuring look. She seemed about to say something about his choice of words, but then decided against it. Instead she asked, "So, Commander, what is the next question?"

Sean waited a beat, then said, "I want to know about what is important to you. What are your dreams Cedria?"

NRPG: From Brian: Nice to know good quality Dutch chocolates can still be found in the 23rd Century. Makoto Shinkai, btw, is an anime producer who is well known for his breathtakingly romantic space scenery. Thanks so much again to Dave for taking the quality of this post up way beyond what I could have managed on my own. You're a pleasure to collaborate with Dave.

From Dave: This was fun, and boy was it ever a load of tinkering. There's one version where they fight off the Borg, but then we remembered they hadn't been invented yet. So we just had chocolates instead. It fun to be invited to the joint posting(s). :p

Respectfully Submitted Jointly,

David Kiel

LT Cedria Zade

NAV, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

&

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: hide and seek SD2261.175 Scene: USS HOOD: BRIDGE

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Hide and Seek

by David Martens

... "What you mean `it's gone'...?"

Arr'Rhiana sighed, feeling the urge to punch Merrick in the face "DON'T... SHOUT..At...ME...!" she barked back. "I already told you a dozen time, the RUTLEDGE is gone, disappeared, vanished, call it as you want."

Merrick rubbed his hand through his hair and looked with bewildered eyes to Hemux "That's impossible, a Federation starship just doesn't disappears."

Hemux tapped some keys on her console and stared through her viewer scanning the area and analysing data. Without lifting her head she repeated her report "As I said: the RUTLEDGE was there, only a few klicks away, perfectly visible, we had her on our scanners, the lifesingns matched with those from the crew; the radiation levels where normal, no signs of an attack or damage. The only thing missing was that she didn't communicated with us. No visual, no audio, nothing."

The Bolian scientist turned back to Merrick "We where bale to lock in for transport, the Captain and the others where beamed on board without problems and exactly at the moment they materialized on the RUTLEDGE it vanished. One moment there, the next nowhere to find. And we have no clue where she is. There is no warp trail or nay other unusual energy signature. We have send in a probe that passed by at the place where the RUTLEDGE should be, so there is no sign of a cloaking field and we detect no radiation or anything else that gives us the indication that there was a space or time distortion."

Hemux blinked her eyes and looked to Merrick "In other words: the RUTLEDGE should be still there, but she isn't and I have no explanation for that, it is totally illogical, but she is gone!"

Merrick nodded and turned to face the huge viewscreen, saying to no one in particular "Suggestions, anyone?"

<<<NRPG>>>

ok, the RUTLEDGE is gone, science has no explanation, what's next?

Respectfully,

David Martens

Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux

CSciO ,

Sovereignty Fleet

USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Restraint

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2261.170

MD 2.1030

Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD

Sean Merrick fought the urge to hit Hemux in the face. The RUTLEDGE had just vanished without warning, without trace, taking with it Sean's best friends and his date for Friday night. And all the Denobulan with umpteen doctorates behind her name could say is "I have no explanation for that, it is totally illogical, but she is gone!"

Even as Sean threw up his mental hands and asked for suggestions, he realized that there were still a dozen scans that they could start running.

"Get the main sensor array on where they just were and find me something strange," he ordered. He plopped down in the Captain's chair. "By heaven, we're staying here until we find something to clue us as to where our people went!"

Respectfully Submitted,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: We’re Not In Kansas Anymore

by Steve Apple

SD: 2261.170

Scene: Transporter Room

The bright cascade of swirling lights started to clear and Corbett could make out the RUTLEDGE’s transporter room. Instead of solidifying on the pad a sick jolting vertigo grabbed him. When the wave of nausea and vertigo finally subsided he could feel he was lying on a damp floor.

Corbett took slow deep breaths and tried to stand, stopping only when the vertigo threatened to take hold again. After a minute he was able to stand and take a look around the small room. It looked like it was carved out of solid rock with a long slab of stone that served as a bed. The front of the room looked open.

Pushing his hat to the back of his head he took the ten steps to the opening. Extending his hand he tapped with his left index finger what he hoped would be air, instead he felt the cold surface of some kind of Plexiglas type surface. It was black and gave no sign that it was seamed into the rock. Placing his hand flat against the glass he stepped onto his toes trying to feel if it ended somewhere he could reach and possibly climb over; however luck wasn’t with him and the glass seemed to go all the way to the ceiling.

It didn’t take long for it to dawn on his foggy mind that he was in a prison cell, or cage. The light in his cell was bright, but the glass wall was black. Well not exactly black, more like it was clear and that the blackness was on the other side of it. Backing up a few steps he grabbed his right wrist with his left hand and tucking it into his chest extended his right shoulder. Hurling himself forward he hit the glass and felt it shift slightly with him, absorbing the blow, a second later it rebounded throwing him back onto the floor of the cell.

That was a smart move he thought as he rubbed his shoulder. Go ahead kick it and see if it’ll break your foot. Corbett paused for a moment at that thought. Maybe that wasn’t such a farfetched thought after all. Digging into his med kit he brought out his hand scanner and adjusted the frequency. It took a few minutes, but he found an anomaly in the glass. That might be the part he would need to concentrate on. Taking out his hypo he broke a vial of seraline blue over the anomaly so he would know exactly where it was later.

After several hours of trying his laser scalpel and several sound frequencies he had almost given up when the glass began to brighten. He could see a hallway in front of the glass and several identical cells that ran its length. “It’s a prison alright,” he said aloud when he saw the cells. “I’ve been in enough to know.”

“Stile is that you.”

Corbett heard the voice of his Captain and saw the man pressed up against the glass of the cell diagonally in front of him and to his right. “Nice to know I’m in good company sar.”

“I can see Cedria from here; she’s lying on the floor of the cell to my left.” Steele said.

“Now that must be a sight.” Corbett yelled back then added. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll trade you some smokes and my breakfast for a week if you change cells with me Jack as I’ve always had a women’s prison fantasy involving Zade.”

“Stow it doctor. We need to figure out how we got here.”

“Captain where are we?” Someone yelled from another cell.

Corbett knew that voice, it belonged to Gene Lowl. “We are not in Kansas anymore sar, so I think the better question is why are we here and how do we get out.”

<<NRPG>> Kind of reminded me of “The Menagerie” or if you prefer “The Cage” episode

Respectfully Submitted

Steve Apple

Stile Corbett, MD

CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Pulling it Together

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2261.171

Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD

Acting Helmsman Hal Baker looked from the first officer to the science officer and then back to Commander Merrick. The shock that had made its way around the bridge with the force of a Tsunami still reverberated. USS RUTLEDGE had just vanished from space without leaving a trace of ever having been there. Nor was there any sort of clue as to what unseen force had managed to pull a Starfleet destroyer out of space in the blink of an eye. But that all paled in comparison, as far as the young ensign was concerned, to the fact that the captain and most of the senior officers had transported over to RUTLEDGE scant seconds *before* it disappeared. And if HOOD couldn’t find RUTLEDGE how would they ever find HOOD’s officers.

Baker looked back down at his panel not knowing what to do and praying that Lieutenant Hemux and Commander Merrick did. As much as he wanted to find the missing vessel he didn’t want to be hanging around in the same vicinity presenting HOOD as the next target for transport to oblivion. Because it seemed the day where every few seconds things did seem to get worse it was clear that from the recent ‘discussion’ between the two remaining senior officer who obviously wanted to kill each other that it had just notched up another disaster level. If the science officer and exec were not able to cope with the stress of instant disaster how was he a lowly, albeit brilliant, ensign going to cope and get the ship out harm’s way?

They were all going to die.

“Lieutenant is the ship in any immediate danger?” Merrick asked in the calm and controlled voice of command.

Hemux reconsulted her scanner briefly. “Impossible to say commander. There is no indication of any danger, no indication of anything out of the ordinary. But then there was neither before, during or after RUTLEDGE’s disappearance.” She replied just as calmly.

Sean nodded. “If there is a danger to HOOD I don’t want to be caught lingering but I also don’t want to cause any disruption to local space that may negate any chances of finding some answers by moving the ship.”

“More indepth scans will take approximately twelve minutes.” Hemux advised.

Sean stepped over to the command chair and sat down. “Very well lieutenant take your scans. Helm I want you to be ready to jump out of here the second I tell you.”

“Understood sir.” Baker replied feeling much better then he had a few minutes ago.

Respectfully,

Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

STARFLEET: ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Now What?

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2261.171

Scene: Unknown

<from Steve’s last post>

“Stile is that you.”

Corbett heard the voice of his Captain and saw the man pressed up against the glass of the cell diagonally in front of him and to his right. “Nice to know I’m in good company sar.”

“I can see Cedria from here; she’s lying on the floor of the cell to my left.” Steele said.

“Now that must be a sight.” Corbett yelled back then added. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll trade you some smokes and my breakfast for a week if you change cells with me Jack as I’ve always had a women’s prison fantasy involving Zade.”

“Stow it doctor. We need to figure out how we got here.”

“Captain where are we?” Someone yelled from another cell.

Corbett knew that voice, it belonged to Gene Lowl. “We are not in Kansas anymore sar, so I think the better question is why are we here and how do we get out.”

<new>

“Gene, did you try your phaser?” Jack called out.

“I did captain.” Gene answered immediately. “I can’t explain it captain but its completely dead. I checked to make sure it was fully charged right before we left the ship.”

Gar and Payne chimed in with a ‘Same here.”

“That makes all of us.” Jack crossed his arms and considered the situation. For the last few hours he had spent the time trying to find a way out of his cell while he hoped that the rest of the officers were safe aboard the RUTLEDGE. While he was bitterly disappointed they had not escaped his fate he did admit to himself that he was relieved they were here with him. With this many of them together that chances they would escape seemed much more likely.

He turned his attention back to Zade’s cell where she still lay motionless. “Doctor can you get any sort of reading on Cedria with your tricorder?”

“Already tried and failed sar. Whatever these walls are made of its doing a good job of reflecting my scans. I can barely get a stable reading on myself.”

“Cedria! Lieutenant Zade!” Jack shouted out in the hopes of getting some response from her. But she remained motionless. “Frak!” He cursed before a loud pitched whine suddenly filled his chamber.

Respectfully,

Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

STARFLEET: ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Phantasma

by David Kiel

SD 2261.171

Scene: A Corridor

Cedria looked at her hands, and through them at the floor of the corridor. It was a smooth worked stone, much like marble but something more. It had no wear, no marks or signs of use. It looked brand new. But people did not generally build corridors to not be used. Oddly enough perhaps these were the exception.

When she had arrived she was shocked at the sight of the place. Smooth stone floors, cool gray walls broken by the occasional archway or intersection marked with varied colors; maroon, goldenrod, burnt orange, aqua. She had only seen a few colors repeat and couldn't be certain she wasn't passing a juncture for a second time. No placards, no maps and no controls, com panels or displays, just corridors, intersecting with corridors continuing on in a myriad of twisting and turning passageways. There were no rooms. At least none she had come to, and it had been hours.

Of course it wasn't just the sight of the place that had shocked her. She was alone, the Captain, Gar, the crazy alcoholic Doctor who liked to glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She seemed to remember he had been killed by a poisonous rabbit. When she had materialized they were gone, and she was alone in this endless maze.

And it wasn't just the missing Captain and crew. It was herself. She looked at her hands again. They were translucent, she could see the floor of the corridor through them. Her sleeve was a golden prism through which the bluish wall of the intersection she stood in looked slightly greenish. She was a shade, a ghost, she couldn't pass through walls but she also couldn't quite feel them either. It was just a place where her hand stopped if she tried to press through it, she couldn't sense its texture and there wasn't the slightest give.

She wasn't breathing. It wasn't as alarming as it would normally be, she just simply didn't have the need. She could speak, but her voice was weak, and she sounded far away, even to herself.

She turned left and walked down the next corridor. She had selected a direction at random and as the passages turned she would pick the left or right that would lead her in her chosen direction. She was halfway down the corridor when a portion of it to her immediate right pivoted and slid back. Seams opened where there had been none and the `door' slid back into a room. The first she had seen.

She was shocked again at the appearance of the alien. Tall, eight feet at least, with a thin face widening into a dome cranium. Sharp angled eyes that turned side to side, a mouth twisted in a natural frown, almost a sneer. She pressed herself back against the wall of the corridor. The first of them turned to its left and slid in the direction she had come. A second followed the first. The final alien paused and looked straight at her, she gasped, an echoing whispery gasp. It looked straight through her and paused, eyes turning to the right and left as if searching.

For a moment it stared straight through her, and then it turned and slid after the others. She looked wide eyed after them for a few moments and then followed. They wore long gray robes that just brushed the floor as the moved. They seemed to hover, sliding across the floor with no gait, no change in attitude just a smooth gliding motion. She had to hurry just slightly to keep up with them. They moved with purpose, turning left, right, straight left straight and straight, before stopping in front of a plain and bare gray wall.

She stood a few meters back, sure they would turn and obliterate her at any moment. The wall opened and pivoted back and they moved through. She moved to follow but the door was smooth and quick and before she closed the distance it was closing. The seams vanishing to nothing as it did. She made a fist and slammed it sharply against the wall in frustration. There was no noise when it struck, no pain in her hand from the blow. It just bounced soundlessly and harmlessly off where the door had been.

Cedria screamed in frustration, and the sound echoed back to her, the louder the noise she made the father away it seemed. She caught movement from the corner of her eye. A single figure glided past the intersection to her right, the same as the others. She ran to follow it.

NRPG: I was a bit lost with this mission. It's been two decades since I've seen the original series and I had to find this episode on the web to get started. I've taken the puppet alien of the original and given it a hovering motive form reminiscent of the Gentlemen from the Hush episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Cedria's body in its cage is breathing and functioning normally, but for some strange reason her consciousness is off wandering about.

Respectfully submitted;

David Kiel

Lt Cedria Zade,

NAV, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR: ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Break Out the Ouiji Board

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2261.172

MD 2.1040

Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD

Sean Merrick tried not to look at the Captain's empty coffee mug holder. More than anything, that hole in the chair symbolized the fact that Sean was on his own. And after ten seconds as acting Captain he already felt like he was fraking things up. He'd let his reaction at losing his people unnerve half the bridge crew and worst still he had badgered Hemux: the one person who was their best bet at figuring out what had happened.

Well dammit, he'd just have to do better from here on out. He'd start by not bothering Hemux again.

He regarded the helmsman. What was his name? Wheelie? Wheeler? Why the hell didn't Starfleet put name tags on their uniforms anyway?

"Helm."

Baker replied instantly, "Yes sir."

"Review our logs please. Did the ship move any when the Rutledge vanished? Perhaps there was a gravitational wave. Something to indicate a spacial disturbance."

"I checked that," Hemux pipped up, obviously annoyed.

"Right," Sean said, chagrined at failing to not piss off the Science Officer. "Nothing then?"

"Nothing sir."

Well at least Hemux was being formal and not borderline insubordinate, Sean thought. Still, he had to do something. "What have we eliminated then Hemux? Let's at least lay out what we know didn't happen."

Hemux sighed and Sean could almost hear her counting to ten. "It wasn't a subspace phenomenon like a dimensional rift or wormhole. The ship wasn't transported out: no quantum fluctuations to indicate that. Like I said, the probe I sent confirmed it isn't cloaked. One moment the ship was there, the next, poof!"

Sean resisted the temptation to ask anything more. Instead, he punched up the readouts of the probe Hemux had already sent out on his console. It told him what he needed to know. It was as if nothing special had ever been there. Certain, it didn't seem that the RUTLEDGE had ever been there.

"Hemux, do you see anything we might gain by staying in this spot? I'd like to start a spherical search pattern here. We may as well start investigating whatever else may be in the neighborhood."

Hemux merely shook her head. She was clearly as upset and dismayed as he was. This situation was miles beyond strange.

An hour later and still nothing had turned up. Their section of space had nothing of note, value or significance. Sean was certain they were missing something, but was at complete loss as to what.

The shift change came and he went back to his quarters. What else could he do? He needed to pray and recenter himself. Then he'd send another update to Starfleet requesting that they be allowed to stick around for a while and see what turned up. He'd ask for a week on site. After that, well, if nothing turned up by then he figured it wouldn't make much difference what they did. The drones might as well do the watching for them by that point.

On stepping into his quarters, Sean took in a deep breath and stretched. He wanted a drink but knew he shouldn't: if not for his need to maintain sobriety, then at least out of respect for Corbett. He thought about a chocholate and immediately wanted to bang his head into a wall for the feelings *that* stray idea engendered. Why the hell did the mind have to go down those roads anyway?

It was then he realized he smelled something odd. It was ... sweet. And familiar. "What the HELL?"

"Something wrong honey?" Jeri's voice came from the bedroom.

NPRG: Why do I get the feeling that smoking some mushrooms would actually give us more clarity as to what is going on here?

Respectfully Submitted,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Punch Clock Villans

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2261.175

MD 2.1500

Still reeling from the night's festivities, the alien Sarloff walked into the meditation chamber. The ancient and dignified Talosians did not often celebrate in any manner, much less with inebriating beverages. So when they did, Sarloff tended to make the most of it. And there had been much to rejoice about.

In less than a week, they had captured two invaluable starships and were well on their way towards securing a third. That had been cause for a "real" celebration: not one of the mere illusions to which the race as a whole had become so addicted. The project which had begun decades before with one wreck of a craft now it encompassed dozens of ships from as many races. Soon, the Talosians would have what they needed to resurrect their dying civilization.

Sarloff nodded to Golack as the latter left the room. In their brief mental exchange, Golack offered greetings and asked if Sarloff had forgotten his morning stimulant on his way to work. In response, the veins on Sarloff's head pulsated an irritated hue of purple.

"Don't ask," Sarloff said, his ginormous skull pounding. "Who is my subject?"

Golack flooded Sarloff's cerebrum with images and sensations. For the leader, Sean Merrick struck Sarloff as a simple enough being, obsessed with thoughts of his insecurities, duties, and several females. One in particular held him in a strong and tumultuous emotional bond: his mate.

"Fine fine," Sarloff said impatiently, I'll use that to build his mental cage.

Golak made an indifferent gesture, wished him luck, and left.

///

In his quarters, Sean caught his breath as recognized a sweet and familiar perfume. Memories and feeling flooded his brain. "What the HELL?"

"Something wrong honey?" Jeri's bright voice came from the bedroom.

Shocked to his bones and hair on end, Sean didn't even bother to answer. Instead, he turned right around and ran out the door. He stopped at the first intercom switch, hit the call button and shouted, "Intruder alert, First Officer's Quarters." Then he pulled out a phaser and aimed it at his room's door.

"Come on out whatever the frak you are."

NRPG: In this timeline, Pike and the ENTERPRISE never visited Talos in 2254 (see Memory Alpha wiki).

Respectfully Submitted,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: You Should Have Remembered Your Coffee

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2261.175

MD 2.1505

Scene: Vicinity of USS HOOD Sarloff knew he had made a terrible mistake. She was dead! The sodded being's mate was DEAD! And if the human managed to wake, what then? Sarloff got his answer almost immediately as the anger-filled mind of Sean Merrick broke completely from his grasp.

///

The ship shimmered around Sean. One moment he had been in the cooridor outside his quaters, the next ....

"What the frak is going on here?!" he said with burning rage.

He was back on the bridge and all around him the crew were slumped at their stations. He spotted Hemux at her science panel and immediately tried to wake her.

"I luv the way you do that siiir," she slurred in her slumber.

In no mood for waiting, Sean first tried talking to the Denobulan, then shaking her, and finally resorted to slapping the snot out of the sleeping science officer. It took three hits before Hemux's eyes popped open with an angry "Oww! Stop that!"

"Hemux!" Sean headed off. "We're in deep here. It seems everyone is dreaming and no, it isn't your mushrooms fault today."

NRPG: Looks like Sean got to hit Hemux in the face after all. I'm sure she'll get Sean back. Also, what the heck was she dreaming about? Hmm. Anyway, I wonder how much coffee a Talosian needs to drink to take the edge off a basketball sized hangover? Steve?

Respectfully Submitted,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS