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Mike:Sorry that you were sort of a non-participant in the discussion. Most of those who have been on the other side of Maril's talks will tell you the same thing. :)<br> | Mike:Sorry that you were sort of a non-participant in the discussion. Most of those who have been on the other side of Maril's talks will tell you the same thing. :)<br> | ||
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Conversation & Communications</h3> | |||
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Michael "Mike" Dailey 9-24-1996</h4> | |||
SD: 80923.2230<br> | |||
MD: 10.1220<br> | |||
SCENE: Leaving the 'Cave of Doom' (aka XO's Office)<br> | |||
> "Yes, sir, I do. I understand, sir."<br> | |||
><br> | |||
> "Very well. The Captain and I have not decided how to act, but be sure that we will. Dismissed."<br> | |||
><br> | |||
> Allard turned on his heel and quickly marched out the door.<br> | |||
><br> | |||
> Maril drank the last of the Centaurian tea. It was very good tea.<br> | |||
*Is it just me, or do the corridors seem like dark earthen cave | |||
walls* J.C. shook the thought, half expecting a troll or some such | |||
creature to jump out and attack. He made a hasty retreat from Maril's | |||
Office to the lift. Once in the turbo lift, the request for a | |||
destination from the ship's computer sparked quite a few 'unofficial' | |||
replies, but the CSO just mumbled his quarters instead. | |||
* Well, not bad for my first mission as CSO. I get wounded, the | |||
Captain breaks General Order 25, I get charged with desertion, and will | |||
spend the rest of my career washing windows.* J.C. thought back to the | |||
time right after graduation from ALB, when he received the orders from | |||
VADM Crowell sending him to EPSILON, and the from VADM Nicholas cutting | |||
him to the FEYNMAN. Who knew how these people would react. Who knew | |||
their expectations, personalities, individual quirks? *You learned real | |||
quick this time, J.C.* Except for Bat the barkeep, and Alex his ACSO, | |||
everyone was still almost a stranger. | |||
The lift opened to Deck 5, and J.C. wasted no time getting to his | |||
quarters. Once in, he quickly shed his uniform in record time, slamming | |||
it into the trash recycler. Once into more comfortable jeans and his | |||
favorite cardigan, J.C. fell into the overstuffed chair in the living | |||
area. Looking over at the nearby table, J.C. saw his comm badge and | |||
Starfleet ID in its case for off-duty use. He picked up his comm badge, | |||
turning it over in his hands several times. | |||
"Computer, access subspace mail. Send a message to Vice Admiral Azariah | |||
Nicholas CINCSILVER, and foreword copies to Captain Zane and Cmdr. | |||
Maril. Sirs; as of today, Stardate 80923, I, Ensign Justin Christopher | |||
Michael Allard hereby re.." the computer's error bleep sounded, | |||
interrupting J.C. | |||
"Warning, standard procedure involving recorded messages precludes | |||
sending new messages before pending new messages are read. This will | |||
avoid the.."... | |||
"Shut Up, computer! I know procedure. I didn't know I had incoming | |||
mail.", J.C. shouted to the computer's disembodied personality. "PLEASE | |||
display all new messages." Getting up from the comforts of his chair, | |||
the desk console came to life, displaying the headers of the two | |||
messages, one from his best friend at ALB, the other from his | |||
Grandmother stationed at Deep Space 5. He took a seat at the desk. It | |||
had been over two months since he had seen Grayen, and over a year since | |||
seeing his Grandmother. | |||
"Computer, display message from Ens. Karris first.", the computer | |||
responded instantly. | |||
<nowiki>======================================================================================</nowiki> | |||
SUBSPACE MESSAGE X32CTR35654-5 | |||
CODED: LEVEL DELTA-2 | |||
SD: 80919.1300 | |||
TX: KARRIS, GRAYEN ENS. USS YORKTOWN | |||
RX: ALLARD, JUSTIN ENS. USS FEYNMAN | |||
RE: GREETINGS | |||
Hi JC! It has been a long time since we last communicated. So, how are | |||
things? | |||
We are now docked at SB Omega for repair after an exciting mission. The | |||
YORKTOWN would have been destroyed on several occasions if it isn't for | |||
the highly skilled and professional crew. | |||
I was injured during a perimeter defense. It would be a while before I | |||
can run again. :) I got your last letter, wow! What a coincidence, we're | |||
both injured.) | |||
And also to my dismay I had my first taste of blood. I had no choice, it | |||
was either me or them. The enemy kept coming at me and my mission was to | |||
defend the area so obviously I had to kill. But it was no satisfaction. It was | |||
like craving pieces of your life away. I could see in their eyes that they | |||
were as scared as I was. Even the thought of it now makes me feel sad. | |||
Anyway... | |||
Before my next mission begin my team and I are running tests on the | |||
weapon systems. A few days ago we have found out a neat way to increase the | |||
power of the photon charge by 1.2%. Details of which will be sent to your | |||
personal archive. | |||
Well, that's it for this time, hope to hear from you soon. | |||
Bye.<br> | |||
Gray<br> | |||
<nowiki>ENS. Grayen Karris, CSO-TAC USS YORKTOWN | |||
=====================================================================================</nowiki> | |||
J.C. thought about all of the death the FEYNMAN crew had witnessed | |||
over the mission's course. It really hadn't occurred to him, the | |||
pirates, the Nausicanns, the other starship. All those people, gone. He | |||
didn't have to remember their faces like Grayen did. *Different people | |||
deal with death...* | |||
"Computer, save message for reply later, display next message". | |||
<nowiki>=====================================================================================</nowiki> | |||
SUBSPACE MESSAGE X64CSB82117-7 | |||
CODED: LEVEL DELTA-1 | |||
SD: 80916.0950 | |||
TX: ALLARD, ISABEL LTCDR. DEEP SPACE 5 | |||
RX: ALLARD, JUSTIN ENS. USS FEYNMAN | |||
RE: Best of times | |||
Hello, Justin Dear. I apologize for not writing back to you for so | |||
long, but Captain Desjardins and myself have been swamped. The new XO, | |||
Cdr. Sanders, is a nice girl from Sarona VIII, has never been posted to | |||
a station. If that's not enough, my OPS. Department has been overrun! | |||
Shipping here in the Beta Quadrant has almost doubled in the last 3 | |||
months. The Captain's put in several requests for more staff, but... | |||
technology has not done away with red tape, I fear. You would like | |||
both of them, Justin. By the way, your Grandfather sends his love. He's | |||
trying to open a small cafeteria on the commerce deck, in addition to | |||
the antique shop, which is always busy. Oh well, enough about life on | |||
DS5. | |||
Justin, the pride in our hearts for you is growing more every year. | |||
Everyone Tim meets, he brags about you being the CSO on the FEYNMAN and | |||
your brother Brandon being in his third year at M.C.U. I also brag, but | |||
not as forcefully as Tim does. Sometimes your Grandfather babbles on and | |||
on, like always. Some things never change. | |||
I received a letter from Kevin last week. He's doing great at | |||
Wilmington, and has some big news for you, too, but I won't spoil his | |||
surprise. He sends his love, and say Benjamin misses you, too. He goes | |||
to your room and whines some nights. | |||
I know you'll do fine on the FEYNMAN. I met VADM Nicholas years | |||
ago at a training seminar at SFHQ. In those days, he was a Captain and | |||
I was a LtJg. While I don't know your CO personally, I've heard good | |||
comments about him. Learn from him, Justin. Learn from anyone you can, | |||
both their successes and failures. | |||
You know you will always have our love, and spirits in your | |||
heart, and we wish the best for you, our 'youngest Admiral in the fleet' | |||
to-be. Take care, Justin, for you these are the Best of times, and the | |||
Worst of Times... | |||
Love,<br> | |||
Grandma<br> | |||
<nowiki>======================================================================================</nowiki> | |||
* How true, Grandma, how true* J.C. swallowed, hard. He wiped the | |||
dampness from his eye. "Computer, save this message also.". He stared at | |||
the screen for several minutes, before closing it and turning it off. | |||
Once changed into a clean, new uniform, J.C. looked into the mirror, | |||
making sure everything was academy-sharp. On his way out, J.C. stopped | |||
at the table where his ID and comm badge lay. He picked up the badge, | |||
holding it tightly for a few moments. * No, not yet,* he thought to | |||
himself. Pinning it onto his uniform, J.C. headed for the Security | |||
Office and the mounds of paperwork to finish once and for all. | |||
Submitted,<br> | |||
Mike Dailey<br> | |||
Splatter2@qtm.net<br> | |||
Ensign J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET<br> | |||
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji, MD - CMO - USS CONSTITUTION - INDIGO<br> | |||
FLEET | |||
<nowiki>******** | |||
* NRPG * | |||
********</nowiki> | |||
Just a little character-info post. Everyone has to check their mail | |||
now and then.<G> | |||
OK, last on to EPSILON's best nightclub is a Denebian Slime Devil. | |||
Cheers!<br> | |||
Mike<br> | |||