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<center><font style="font-size: 50px; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold; text-shadow: 4px 4px 4px black;">U.S.S. ''FEYNMAN'' NCC-66000<br> December 1996 Posts</font></center>
<center><font style="font-size: 50px; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold; text-shadow: 4px 4px 4px black;">U.S.S. ''FEYNMAN'' NCC-66000<br> December 1996 Posts</font></center>
<div style="float:right; margin-top: 5px; padding-right: 50px;">[[Image:FEYNMAN PATCH DRAFT2.png|550px|FEYNMAN Shoulder Patch|center]]</div>
<div style="float:right; margin-top: 5px; padding-right: 50px;">[[Image:FEYNMAN PATCH DRAFT2.png|550px|FEYNMAN Shoulder Patch|center]]</div>
<font style="font-size: large; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">TOTAL DECEMBER 1996 POSTS: *TBD*</font>
<font style="font-size: large; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">TOTAL DECEMBER 1996 POSTS: 36</font>
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<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Moving On</h3>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Moving On</h3>
Line 3,106: Line 3,106:
or anything like that...just, well not exactly on his list of fun things
or anything like that...just, well not exactly on his list of fun things
to do. Have fun I'm looking forward to reading it!
to do. Have fun I'm looking forward to reading it!
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: Allard's Evaluation</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Michael "Mike" Dailey 12-27-1996</h4>
Stardate: 81227.1730<br>
Scene: Holodeck 1<br>
MD: 9.0715<br>
<I>
J.C. stepped into the Holodeck. The familiar yellow and black grid was
present as was the counselor.
"Good, Lt. Allard. You made it and on time. I personally thought I was
going to be late."</I><br>
J.C. did a mental double-take at the CNS comment, barely being on-time
himself. He knew he was going to dread this meeting, for most Doctors
made the CSO feel quite uncomfortable, especially 'head-doctors' as J.C.
so often termed them.
<I>
Allard noticed that the counselor's blond hair was sort of mussed up and
his uniform was slightly crumpled. Obviously the new counselor wasn't a
morning person either.
"I figured we could kill two birds with one stone," said Loren as he
tossed Allard a Phaser. "I knew I'd have to qualify with one of these
things before long."</I><br>
J.C. reached out and caught the flying MARK-V Phaser in mid-air,
silently cursing himself for not grabbing his personal sidearm before
leaving his quarters. Turning slowly to the new CNS, J.C. looked as
though he would tear the head off of Landers, but deep down, was using
the anger to hide the fear that enveloped him at the thought of someone
inside his mind.
<I>
Allard's expression went from a somewhat blank stare to one of slight
anger. "Counselor, have you been reading my thoughts?" he barked with a
noticeable edge in his voice, perhaps sounding more angry than he should have.
</I><br>
Being esper-blind, the Counselors and Doctors at the Academy had a field
day putting J.C. through series after grueling series of tests, which
determined his psi-rating to be zero. They had said he was 'not unlike a
radio that could neither transmit nor receive.'
Still, the idea of someone inside his head, mind-melds and the like
terrified the young officer.
<I>
"Lt., I assure you that I have not." Now there was an edge in Loren's
voice as he stared intently at the CSO, his large dark Betazoid eyes
seeming ready to swallow the CSO. Even though he could not read anything
mentally from J.C., simple body language showed how defensive Allard had
become.
"Reading another's thoughts against their will is a repugnant idea to me.
Ship's protocol would dictate that I would have to qualify with one of
these. I just kept receiving the 'impression' that you were very
anxious to get it over with. Besides, I really need to get requalified
with a phaser again," Loren finally added as a smile spread across his face.
</I><br>
"Sorry counselor, but I had to ask." said J.C., sounding less
defensive than a moment ago, making both feel more at ease. Staring at
Loren, J.C. wondered about the true extent of the counselor's abilities.
He sounded sincere and truthful, and besides, at this point Landers
would gain nothing from deceiving him.
<I>
"Not a problem Lt. Would you care to step up on the platform."
Allard stepped up on the firing platform next to Ens. Landers and readied
his Phaser. A few beeps later, it was ready as was he.
"Computer begin standard Phaser qualification test. Two participants, and record for Ens. Loren Landers," said the CSO.
Loren and Allard stood back to back on the platform as holographic discs
began flying across the room. Loren began nailing the blue discs as Allard
annihilated the red ones.
</I><br>
"Mr. Landers," said J.C. "I was impressed with the way you and Mr.
T'Boc used your abilities to help us down on the Reaver Base." The
sudden thought of the Reavers sent another fear-driven chill down J.C.'s
spine. He would rather face a squad of Borg than one Reaver. Glancing at
Loren, J.C. tried to judge the CNS's response.
"Lieutenant, I try to use my 'abilities' so help in anyway I can.
After all, that's the idea of being a counselor, isn't it?" said Landers. *Touche,
Allard, J.C. thought, This guy IS good.*
"Sir, I do like to relax. You can call me Loren if you prefer," said
Landers. J.C. glances at the young and handsome CNS. *Come on, be
friends with the guy. Remember how you felt when your were posted to the
FEYNMAN, for what seemed a lifetime ago was a mere six months.* True,
protocol while not entirely lax, was not strict by-the-book here on the
FEYNMAN either.
"Very well, Loren." said J.C. He waited, deciding whether or not to
extend the same courtesy Loren had. J.C. taking careful aim for the next
round, J.C. decided to wait and get to know the green Ensign a little
better.<br>
<I>
The two men had progressed to level two when Loren spoke. "Lt., I've
never really had a family or any who has really cared about me. How does
it feel to have lost a loved one, someone like your wife for instance?"
</I><br>
Justin squeezed his phaser grip harder so as not to drop it on the
Holodeck floor. *This guy is full of surprises,* though J.C. Whirling
around yet again to face the CNS, J.C. glared at the him,
"ENSIGN, I...". J.C. started, but changed his tone. He hadn't really
talked to anyone after Wendy, his wife of three months, had died in a
ground car accident. Immediately after, he applied to Starfleet, and
from then on had been to busy.
"Loren, I apologize for my temper. It's just I began thinking about
Wendy, my mom, and my grandmother all at once. I guess all of the Allard
women in my family are, in some way, gone from my life." said the CSO.
Loren holstered his sidearm, and looked into J.C.'s deep blue eyes. He
recalled reading J.C. service record, about the terrible death of his
wife, the separation of his parents, and his Grandmother being stationed
on one of Starfleet's most remote bases.
"I really feel alone sometimes. I mean, I still write and talk to my
friends, my grandparents, and my brothers and Father back on Earth.
But..." J.C. stopped, unsure how to continue...
"Mr. Allard, remember, you're part ot the biggest family in the
Federation; Starfleet. We all have a special bond to one another, not
only through duty, but through the respect and care we have for each
other." said Loren. Thinking back to the fun and, bit of trouble J.C.
and his fellow Cadets had at Starfleet Academy, brought a smile to the
CSO's face.
Grabbing his sidearm, J.C. turned to face the test area, "ready to
finish, Loren?" asked J.C. The CNS stood, removing his own MARK-V from
his holster.
"Yes, Sir." replied Loren. J.C. regarded Loren for a moment. Standing
stiff, his best mocking impression of an Academy drill instructor, J.C.
barked a firm order, or at least tried to...
"While we're off duty, that's J.C. to you, MR!", then relaxed and broke
into a smile.
"By the way," said J.C. "I haven't had time to review your record yet.
What was your best academy score," asked J.C. While regulations required
a level-6 score or better to qualify, J.C.'s best had been an 8.5.
Lieutenant Meleah, of course, held the FEYNMAN's and Starfleet's top
score of level 12, a mere coincidence that the training program only
contained 12 levels.
"Not as good as I would have liked." said Loren. "I can never seem to
get past a level-9 score." J.C. winced slightly, and could have swore he
seen Loren wink at him...
J.C. took aim, determined to get a level-10.
Submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
Splatter2@qtm.net<br>
Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant D'doj Zzawj Ckorji MD OPS/2O USS ELIZABETH BLACKWELL SILVER FLEET<br>
Lieutenant Commander [Retired] Jordon Kabreigny - UNASSIGNED GREEN FLEET<br>
=======<br>
= NRPG  =<br>
=======<br>
Hello all. Kevin, work in anything you want to. This isn't my best
work, but I'm kinda pressed for time and didn't want to be the last to
finish his little meeting.
Since the 'girls' are going shopping, perhaps you would like to join
J.C. at the 'wall' on EPSILON. It's a nice, quiet place, relaxing
atmosphere. I'm sure we could have a little 'fun'. You too, Jason -
Tarrant is invited also.
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: The Walk</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 12-28-1996</h4>
Stardate: 81228.0930<br>
Scene: CNS's Office<br>
MD: 8.1616<br>
<I>
The door chime rang again as it had many times already the past few
days. "Come." Loren already knew who it was and had been expecting him,
but not without a fight. Loren hadn't heard of many CO's coming to a
counselor's session without persistant reminders by the counselor.
Captain Zane of the USS FEYNMAN walked slowly into the room. Glancing
around he noticed the sparseness of the room's decor. "Not much on
decorum are we counselor."
"Not much on having any possessions since the Reavers blew up my d-warp
shuttle, Captain."
"I see."</I><br>
"Well we'll be in port for at least 48 hours so you should have
ample time to do a little shopping. Actually with your possessions being
destroyed during 'the pursuit of your duty' you should stop by the QM's
office on EPSILON. Have you ever met our Quarter-Master, Commander
Branno?"
"No sir, I'm afraid I didn't really have time to meet anyone on
the base."
"Thats too bad, Commander Branno is quite a character. Just
make up a list of what you need and I'm sure she'll take care of you
right away." Zane smiled pleasantly trying his best to block out any
thoughts of the *real* Commander Branno. If the CNS could drop him in
rollerblades as a learning experience then he could certainly return the
favour. Besides, Loren was one of the crew now and that meant he was fair
game for the occaisional joke.
For his part, Loren looked somewhat suspiciously at his new CO.
He sounded sincere but he had thought he had noted a whiff of revenge.
<I>
"I would offer you a seat Captain, but I'd hoped you would be willing to
take a walk with me first."
<<<SNIP>>>
On deck 14, Zane finally decided to break the silence.
"You being very quiet for a counselor, ensign."
"Yes, sir, I know. I generally prefer for people to tell me what's on
their mind. I find that listening rather than me running my mouth
asking lots of questions is better for some. In short my tactics adjust
for whomever I'm dealing with at the moment."
"And so for me, your tactics call for a walk through my ship, where you
simply stand quietly and listen. That's it?"
"Actually, sir, my tactics call for me to listen...and for you to talk.
We've been kinda short on the latter for a while now."</I><br>
"True." Zane replied wondering what there was to talk about. He
certainly wasn't going to be bringing up any innermost thoughts, at least
voluntarily, especially out on the deckway. He had also decided to do
both him and the CNS a favour by not dwelling on either's career. They
had both read each other's bio. "Well then I'm on R&R right now so what
do you say to a drink in 10-Forward?"
Loren smiled. "It sounds...relaxing." He turned to move towards
the turbolift.
"Uh ensign..." Zane jabbed a thumb towards a nearby access
hatch. "Its only four decks."
_______________<br>
Scene: 10-Forward<br>
The two men sat at a table enjoying a cool drink. Before the
silence could get a firm grasp Loren broke it. "I've noticed that you
spend alot of time in 10-Forward. Is that your usual habit?"
"I've never really thought of it. But yes I guess it is. I eat
most of my meals here and I try to spend some of my offtime here, actually
I occasionally even write reports over by the main window."
"Why is that?"
"Well why not?"
"No reason, its just some captains prefer to remain at a certain
distance from their crew. But one thing I've noticed is that you don't.
Your the captain but your also one of the crew...if that makes any sense?"
"It does because thats the way it is. Its not that I try to be
that, that I ever made a conscious decision. It just developed that way.
I am very comfortable with those aboard and I hope they feel the same."
"But some would say that for a military vessel to function
optimally there has to be a certain detachment, a certain feel of
protocol."
"Well that is true, and after some more time here you'll see that
we do have that decorom, that protocol. To a degree. But...well I look
at it this way, I am no better than anyone on this ship. Everyone has
their own strengths and their own weakness and they all balance out. We
all have a job to do and the FEYNMAN could not function as well as it does
if any one of those parts was not there. Whether it be the CEO, the
crewman in disposal or the captain. So why remove myself from anyone, put
myself in the ivory tower? I'm very proud of everyone on this ship and I
thank the gods they are here. And when you have that sort of a feeling
with your crew it is only natural that you think of them as friends. Its
important for me that they know I am approachable that we are all an eual
team regardless of position."
<<<NRPG>>>
Not the direction I had orginally planned it just kinda wrote itself.
Haven't decided if I necessarily like it but I'm off to work.
Kevin:Feel free to continue, or delve deeper. As for the QM, Zane has had
several run-ins with her over destroyed shuttle craft. She does not like
to part with anything as she sees all SILVER equipment/vessels as her own
personal property. She thinks Zane keeps losing shuttles through
negligence but she can't prove it...consequently she hates him. Did I
mention Zane and Bat stole a shuttle from her? I won't even mention what
Jerran did.;)
Respectfully,<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: Maril's Evaluation</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 12-28-1996</h4>
SD: 81228
"What prompted you to join up with us rather than continuing to serve your
people?"
Maril was taken aback by this question. Others had questioned his ability,
his drive, and his leadership qualities, but, after he had made the decision, no
one had asked him why. Still, he had had a reason.
He took a deep breath and smiled. "I'm not quite sure. I am still a Tamarian
at heart...."
"I don't think anything could change that," Loren commented.
"...and I still think of Tamarians as my people. While Earth is an interesting
planet--I lived there for six years--Motuxi is still my home; my family and
everything I knew before I went to the English Language School and Starfleet
Academy is there. I think that most of the members of the Federation and the
Tamarians share a similar exploratory spirit...."
"Yes....'
"...but I think perhaps I came to the Federation because here not only could I
explore planets and nebulae and warp physics--I could do all of that on a
Tamarian ship--but I could also explore those outside the Tamarian civilization
while working alongside them. Of course, on a Tamarian ship, I could visit
Starfleet ships and talk to those aboard. However, it would not have been the
same as being on the ship, working with Federation officers--and being one of
them. And I have learned quite a bit," Maril smiled at the last remark. "So, I
suppose I did it because I wish to explore, and this gives me the opportunity
even when I am just walking in the corridors."
Landers nodded thoughtfully. "But why Starfleet...why not the Klingons or
the Cardassians, if you wanted to explore?
"I think the answer is obvious, Ensign. Not only is the Federation probably
closest in philosophies to the Tamarians--I wouldn't be able to work with
Cardassians, or Klingons, as well, I think--but the variety is much greater. On a
Klingon ship, I doubt you have many non-Klingons. On the Feynman, we must
have tens, if not hundreds, of different species aboard. Just look at the senior
officers. You have one human, two Betazoids, a half-human/half-Klingon, a
half-Bajoran/half-Vulcan, one android, one Kar'llian, one Tamarian, and one
officer of unkown species. That variety can not be found with any other
institution."
MD 11.1630<br>
Gymnasium<br>
"Of course. I would like to get the exercise. I have had few real opponents,
and I would enjoy seeing where I stand."
"Very well, then, sir. Let us begin."
With that, Landers stepped back and held the bat'leth in a defensive position.
"SuH?" he uttered.
"SuH!" Maril replied back, pulling back into a slightly different position.
As the two circled around each other, Maril did not notice the walls of the
gymnasium any more. Soon, the mats and any other officers disappeared as
well. It was only Landers and he, turning themselves around to catch an
apparent weakness in the other.
"Miraven at Sigal!" Maril cried as he stepped towards Landers and brought
the weapon towards him with a cut to the left.
Landers blocked the slash with skill--and the inner curve of his bat'leth--and
brought the lower end up towards Maril's chin, under Maril's own bat'leth!
Maril was trapped--if he did not move, Landers would hit him in the chin, or
knock his bat'leth away; if he did, he would actually bring Landers's own
weapon closer to his chin.
Maril settled on Choice 3--the unexpected move. He ducked back from
Landers's bat'leth, at the same time letting go of his own with his left hand and
regripping in the middle with his right. He then quickly pulled the weapon
away, leaving Landers with a bunch of air to hit and in a more vulnerable
position to Maril's attack.
That attack came in the form of a cut from over the top. Landers quickly
moved the bat'leth to block, and he successfully stopped Maril's blow. He then
proceeded to make a sweeping cut towards Maril's midsection, catching Maril
off guard.
Maril, however, was quick enough to dodge out of the way of the weapon's
arc; and the two went back to attacking and blocking, back and forth, across
their unnoticed environment.
After they had continued this for a few moments, Maril saw his chance. He
shifted the bat'leth into his left hand and suddenly launched a sweeping cut to
Landers's feet.
Landers quickly jumped over the blade, but Maril regrabbed with his right hand
and readied for a quick stab.
The Counselor ducked out of the way, but just barely. Maril then deftly
brought the lower end of his bat'leth up to Landers's throat, poised to attack.
Landers sighed. "jIjegh"
Maril lowered the weapon and extended his hand. "Thank you, Ensign."
Landers smiled. "No, thank you, Commander."
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Lt. Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer, USS Feymnan,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
NRPG:<br>
Well, I think that wraps it up for Maril's evaluation, unless you want to write
something else, Kevin.
I'm really sorry, but could everyone send me the rotation for your department for
the next mission? I seem to have lost the last information.
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: You Knew It Would Happen (AKA: The Brawl)</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 12-31-1996</h4>
Stardate: 81231.2033<br>
Scene: The Wall<br>
MD: 10.1900<br>
Krysa and Meleah approached the door to the 'Wall', and entered. After
adjusting to the light, Krysa spotted J.C. and Loren talking to some other
Starfleet officers.
Turning to Lt. Meleah, Krysa pointed them out, "Look, there they are." She
stopped as Meleah shoved her out of the path of a chair that flew right
towards them....
Catching her breath as her heart beat loudly in her chest, Krysa said, "I
hope our guys didn't start that."
"I wouldn't count on it," said a familiar voice behind her. The two women
spun to see Bat followed by three of the junior officers from the FEYNMAN.
Bat was grinning, "Now this is 'The Wall'!"
The aging bartender headed deeper into the bar. Krysa rolled her eyes,
"Bat!" she called. Meleah followed him and Krysa's eyes widened further,
"Meleah!" The bartender and the android continued walked, and Krysa turned
to the three men behind her. They all stood looking at each other.
"Damn!" said one, "There goes my next promotion!"
"I'd be more concerned about your life right now," Krysa murmured. Then
took a step back to avoid a man to sprawling on the floor in front of her.
"Why you ..!" the man growled and jumped up to rush the man who had caused
his fall.
With a big sigh, Krysa ducked further into the bar, sidestepping yet
another brawling pair. As she drew near to where the other FEYNMAN officers
were she spotted a very large man pounding on Lt. Allard's face. Moving
quickly, Krysa grabbed a nearby bar stool and swung. The man stopped for a
moment before falling over onto the floor.
Allard looked up a Krysa. He had an eye that was already beginning to
swell, "Thank you, Lt." he said with a crooked grin. Krysa frowned, "Just
tell me *you* didn't start this!"
"Of course not," Allard said. Then he yelled, "Duck!" Krysa didn't have to
be told twice as she quickly collapsed to the floor and JC jumped up and
grabbed a man with an ugly looking, broken bottle.
That woulda hurt, Krysa thought watching JC struggle with the attacker.
Crawling on her hands and knees on the sticky floor, Krysa moved under a
table searching out the other FEYNMAN officers.
Regards,<br>
Lt. Krysa Jenn<br>
***<br>
NRPG: Well, Krysa really hates fighting, but she does know how to wield a
bar stool! Well, there's my contribution to the mess. I'm thinking that
Zane is probably standing just outside the bar looking in in shock!! Hehe,
but Krysa didn't notice him, so I'll leave it to someone else too :}
Kristen<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: A Welcome Diversion</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 12-31-1996</h4>
SD:81231.1800<br>
MD:10.1905<br>
Scene: Market Level<br>
Zane walked down the corridor of the market level engrossed in his
lucky find. He'd read the book countless times but the thrill of finding
a long sought treasure added a certain allure making the experience seem
like a new one. He was so engrossed in fact that as he walked past the
infamous Wall he failed to take note of the turmoil inside. Not even the
screams of flying patrons was enough to stir him from his reading. What
did prove to be successful however was the Starfleet officer who came
crashing through the large pane of glass that was the Wall's main window,
landing at his feet. Thankfully it was not a FEYNMAN crew member but the
body that crashed through the remaining glass seconds later was. "Chief!"
MCPO Larocque shook his head for a moment and then realized who
was kneeling over him. "There's a bunch of us in there...they're going to
need help." The captain's aide began to get to his feet helping the
officer beside him.
A jumble of emotions ran through Zane and he settled on the one
most appealing. He jerked a thumb towards the raging brawl and addressed
both. "We go in and we get Starfleet out...before the marines get here."
That wouldn't leave them much time.
As they charged into the fray Zane shouted at Mike. "Where are
they?"
"Back corner." Mike answered ducking in time to miss catching a
bottle in the face. Zane nodded and then charged into the melee. He made
it about five feet before running in to his first obstacle, an overly
large Nasican who was holding a Starfleet officer by the neck and shaking
him like a ragdoll. He grabbed a chair and smashed it over the Nacsican's
back. It was enough of a blow to make him drop the officer but little
else. He quickly spun around to face Zane who had just as quickly picked
up a leg from the broken chair. The captain struck first, smashing the
weapon into the Nascian's jaw and shattering it. In response the Nascian
picked up Zane and raised him over his head. With a scream of rage he
tossed Zane deeper into the brawl. As he came crashing down his one
consoling thought was that at least he was making progress.
Lying on his back on the beer soaked floor he now became the
victim of a variety of kicks and stomps by the patrons his flight had
rudely interrupted. Struggling to his feet, stunned by the blows he felt
someone grab him and call out his name. Soon a grinning face was staring
at his. "Bat?"
"Having fun Z? Duck!" As his reflexes followed the order Bat
struck out at the Orion who had had been planning on breaking yet another
chair over someone's head. Not expecting the punch he crumpled to the
floor. "C'mon! What are you lagging behind for the rest of us are over
here."
The two punched and lunged their way through the crowd to find a
small circle of FEYNMAN and Starfleet officers engaged with a variety of
lifeforms from across the galaxy. As they reached them the whistles of
approaching marines could be heard. Zane tried to shout to the group in
general but had a fist stuffed into his face for his trouble. He rammed
the chair leg into the stomach of his attacker who bent over from the
blow. A quick raised knee to the face left him unconscious on the floor.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched with admiration as Meleah grabbed
two Klingons and smashed them together. The look of complete indifference
on her face triggered a laugh. He hadn't had this much fun since he was a
lieutenant.
Grabbing the closest body to him he waded into the thick of the
fight.
<<<NRPG>>>
Just because Zane wants everyone out before the marines arrive doesn't
mean that is what will actually happen;) Maybe our next mission could be
escaping from the drunk-tank
Respectfully,<br>
Andy-->Not one to miss a good fight<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: Oh, no! Not the Wall! (Second Try)</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Michael "Mike" Dailey 12-31-1996</h4>
Stardate: 81229.1408<br>
Scene: Epsilon<br>
MD: 10.1835<br>
Stepping out of the docking tube and onto Epsilon, the two FEYNMAN officers nodded to
the base security officer standing guard. More of a tradidion than necessity, ship 'in-port' were given an honor-guard by the Marines on-post. This one, however, seemed like he was due for a nap.
The CSO rolled hiseyes, and briefly contemplated the 'chewing-out' he would give the officer had he been under his command.
J.C. Allard and Loren Landers continued on through EPSILON to the lift that would take
them to the Market Level.
"It feels good to have some time away from the FEYNAMN," said J.C. They entered the
lift.
"I know." said Landers, "I've finally finished the Senior Staff meetings. I have to
admit, the FEYNMAN is a diverse bunch."
"Yeah, that would be one word for us," grinned the CSO. The lift deposited them onto
the Market Level of EPSILON, the area where one could find exotic shopes with practically any merchandise you could want, for a price of course. The many restaurants and cafe's emitted smells from the cuisenes of cultures throughout the Federation.
"This is my first time really exploring EPSILON," said J.C. "When I was first posted to
the FEYNAMN, I reported immediately."
"Same for me," said Loren. They passed the 'NaDev NuqDaq, a place not known for it's
service, but delicious Klingon cuisene. Pausing in front, Loren inhaled some aroma. J.C. could not place it, but it reminded the CSO of something stale and burning.
"How about a bite to eat, J.C.?". Allard grimmaced, never one for Klingon dishes.
"I don't know... there is a really good Italian place...." said J.C. trying to lure the
counselor into a more palatable meal.
"Come on. Try it." grudgingly, the J.C. gave it. Half hour later, both FEYNMAN officers
emerged.
"Well, that was good! I'm stuffed." said Loren. He looked over at his friend, who was a
bit pale and green at the same time.
"Yeah, Loren. I'm stuffed too! I need a drink". said J.C. "Let's go check out this
'Wall' place I've heard so much about."
"OK, J.C.," said Loren. They maneuvered the corridors, through various shops. Once,
making a wrong turn, a Ferengi trader set them back on the right way, eyeing the Starfleet officers
suspiciously. Both J.C. and Loren gave each other an 'I-don't-know' shrug.
Finally reaching the entrance of the 'Wall', the cargo-bay type door slid open at
their approach. Stepping in, J.C. noted how dark it was, and closed his eyes momentarily to help adjust. They found a table, and each got a drink from the actual 'wall'. While it was not busy this time of day, they were conscious of various pairs (and sets) of eyes on the only two uniformed officers in the place.
"Nice place, huh?" commented Loren.
"Yeah. Great atmosphere." Moments later, a welcome site of three Starfleet base officers
entered. Loren and J.C. nodded to the newcomers, who took a table on the other side of the bar.
"When I get back onboard I need to spend some time writing to my family in friends,
"said J.C. "I'm horrible when it comes to writing letters."
"You brothers and Father are all on Earth," asked Loren.
"Yeah. And then there's..." J.C. stopped quite suddenly, his mouth accidentally agape
from the last word. Staring at the doors. Loren turned to see what the CSO was looking at. Two more Starfleet Officers had entered, two Lieutenants, neither of which the counselor recognized. Clearly, however, J.C. did.
On making eye contact with the FEYNMAN CSO, the two sauntered over to their table,
"Well, well. Look what we have here, a couple of misfits." said one of them to his comrade. "They must be from the GREY fleet.!" and both burst out laughing.
"Have you been out of the Academy so long, Lt. JUNIOR GRADE Allard, that you forgot
protocol!". said the loud and obnoxious one. Slowly, J.C. stood, and motioned for Landers to do likewise. The newcomer making a point of him being a full Lieutenant, outranking both J.C. and Loren.
"Ensign Loren Landers, this is LIEUTENANT David Russo." Russo thumped J.C. on the back,
almost knocking
the CSO over.
"Yes, we're OLD friends." said Russo. Looking at Landers, Russo continued,"I was Allard's
FAVORITE upperclassmen. We had some good times at the ACADEMY!" He let out an evil-sounding
laugh, a laugh that brought back bits of his Academy life J.C. would have liked to forget. Sitting back down, Russo and his companion planted themselves, uninvited, in chairs at their table.
"Loren, what the LIEUTENANT means is that while we attended the Academy, Russo was in
charge of making
my life a living hell".
"Oh, you enjoyed it J.C." sneered Russo.
Nudging his companion, Russo snickered,"So I didn't know the GREY fleet had officers
here on EPSILON. Carter and I just got on leave from the BISMARK. So, what garbage ship are you two on.?" asked Russo. J.C. clenched his fists.
Loren spoke up, "Lieutenant J.G. Allard and myself are NOT in the GREY fleet. We're
stationed on the FEYNMAN." said Loren bluntly. It didn't take an empath to sense the emotional restraint J.C. was holding onto.
Carter growled, "Who asked you, Doctor!" Loren still being in his blue uniform.
"Ah, the FEYNMAN." said Russo, "that's the ship with the changling Captian."
"CAPTAIN ZANE is not a changeling!" shouted Loren, perhaps a bit too loud.
"Allard, seems your little friend here is quite the boisterous one!" said Russo. "No
matter, the likes of you will end up in GREY sooner or later." Russo and Carter burst out laughing , and again thumped J.C. on the back.
"Come on, Allard, cheer up! You have to have a sense of humor working on the
FUNNYMEN!..."
<I>
Krysa and Meleah stepped out of the sundae shop and continued on their way
down the marketplace. Krysa spotted a cute little accessories shop and was
about to point it out when Meleah spoke up, "I think that is our CSO over
there."
Krysa looked over and saw the unmistakable white blonde cropped hair of Lt.
Allard across the way from them. "I think you're right. Good eyes, Meleah!"
Meleah looked at her, "My eyes are functioning at optimum levels."
Krysa grinned, "That's what I said. He's not alone either. I do believe
that is our newest crewmember with him."
"Where do you suppose they are going?"
Krysa watched as they headed down a darkened corridor toward the seedier
side of the station. "I would venture a guess, they're headed to 'The Wall'."
"I thought you told me that was not a place that welcomed Starfleet officers."
"It's not," Krysa said. She sighed, "But obviously our menfolk don't care
about that."
Meleah turned and headed off in the direction they had seen the two men go.
Krysa grabbed her arm, "Where are you going?"
"It is likely that they will need our help." Meleah said.
"Are you crazy. You don't want to go in there."
"You can wait here for me. I just want to make sure they are safe."
Krysa groaned, "Well, I can't let you go alone."
Meleah shrugged, "I am much more equipped to deal with trouble then you
are, Krysa."
"Probably," Krysa agreed, "but what fun is shopping all alone. They will be fine. Let's finish our shopping, then join them!"</I>
"Very well," acknowledged Meleah.
Meleah and Krysa watched the new counselor and CSO enter the Wall. Kyrsa detoured the
female-duo into a small antique book shope adjacent to the Wall. About fifteen minutes later, the two emerged, with three old books in-hand. Kyrsa enjoying here find like a child with an ice-cream sundae.
They approached the door to the 'Wall', and entered. After adjusting to the light,
Kyrsa spotted J.C. and Loren talking to some other Starfleet officers.
Turning to Lt. Meleah, Kyrsa pointed them out, "Look, there they are." She stopped as
Meleah shoved her out of the path of a chair that flew right towards them....
Submitted,
Mike Dailey
Splatter2@qtm.net
Lieutenant J.G., J.C. Allard SEC-TAC - USS FEYNMAN - SILVER FLEET<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! I had in mind the scuffle scene from TOS Trouble with Tribbles, Kevin, add
anything you want, Kris and Company to our rescue!?!?!?
Jason - I wasn't sure if you were going to join us or not, but you can still write
Tarrant in...
Have a fun, HAPPY, and *SAFE* new years eve.!!!
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Convergence</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 12-31-1996</h4>
SD:81231.1300<br>
MD:10.1700<br>
Scene:Captain's Quarters<br>
"Come." Zane said over his shoulder to the door as he looked into
the mirror, a final check.
"Well, well, well. Big night out on the town?" Bat asked as he
and his 3 companions entered the cabin and noted Zane's tuxedo.
Turning to face them, he moved over to one of the room's chairs
and sat down to slip on his shoes. "Thought I might splurge a little.
Its been awhile since I've actually done anything on a layover. I see
you four are dressed for a little carousing. Not the Wall again?"
The three younger men laughed nervously remembering Zane's anger
the last time they had been to the Wall and then got up close and personal
with several of the bar's patrons - in the base's drunk tank. "There are
several bars on our agenda but don't worry the boys have not let me talk
them into going to the Wall...yet." Bat replied.
"You three are on your time," The captain rose, "but see that he
doesn't succeed."
A chorus of yessir was interrupted by the bartender. "So are you
going to keep us in suspense? What are the fancy digs for? Hot date?
Second job as a waiter?"
"I thought I might try my luck in the casino this evening." He
said with a smile "So if you'll excuse me there is a baccarat table with
my name on it."
_________________________________<br>
Scene:VIP club, Casino EPSILON<br>
MD:10.1830<br>
"...monkey, monkey! MONKEY!" Zane's table mates screamed out with
enthusiasm as the dealer drew the last card from the shoe. Unfortunately
the gods of gaming were to ignore their pleas.
"Three, player has six, dealer wins with seven." Efficently the
dealer collected the players chips pausing to pay Zane's bet, after first
deducting the 5% commission for betting dealer-win.
"Another drink for you sir?" The server asked from behind.
He drained the nearly empty glass and placed it on her tray.
"That'd be great Bianca, same as last time please."
She smiled at him. "Okay one iced-tea."
"Thanks." The casino believed in serving alcohol rather than
sythehol to its patrons. Many argued the effects were the same but it
seemed alcohol still encouraged larger bets. Zane had decided early on
not to take any chances and had stuck with nonalcholic drinks.
"Ahhh, Zane my friend, how are you?" A short Lebanese man
approached the table, extending a hand. The captain recognized the accent
before he turned to see the face.
"Nabil! I'm good, you?"
"Much better now that I know you are back with us. Are you
winning all our money?"
"I've had a good run." He gestured at his stack of purple chips.
"Not much more or they won't be able to pay me!" The executive
host of the casino pleaded feigning concern.
Zane gestured around at the thousands of guests around them in the
noisy room. "Very little chance of that."
"But it is good you are here. The item you were looking for I
have found it."
"The item?" Zane asked puzzled. It had been over a year since he
had been in the casino. Nabil had a knack for finding elusive items and
Zane had used his services several times before but he couldn't remember
what this item was.
"The book!"
Recognition burst through. Since his days at the Academy he had
been searching for a leather bound, orginal copy of Asimov's Foundation.
He had it in several electronic forms and even had a paper version but he
had long sought one of the orginal 500 year old copies to add to his
collection. "Where?"
Nabil paused as Bianca returned with the iced-tea. "Here on
EPSILON, a friend of mind managed to acquire it and has been saving it for
you. He has a little store down on the market level right near the Wall."
"A book store on the market level?" He asked incredulously.
"He does sell other items as well." Nabil answered with a
conspiratorial smile.
Zane rose from his chair and tossed the Vulcan dealer one of his
purple chips. His excitement demanded he get teh book right away. Now he
had something to truly look forward to on his shore leave.
_____________________<br>
Scene: Just outside the Wall<br>
MD:10.1900<br>
"I can't believe you guys are scared to go in there for one little
drink." Bat shouted in exasperation. "Look we'll go in, we won't talk to
anyone, we won't look at anyone, we'll have one drink and then we'll
leave. Its tradition! We've never been on EPSILON without having a drink
here. Nothing happened last time."
"I don't know Bat." Fuhrman, the transporter chief said. He
wanted desperately to get promoted up from ensign and another barroom
brawl didn't seem like a good career move.
"Hmmphf. Well I'm going in myself you three can sit on the bench
there and wait for me." With that Bat stormed into the bar.
"We can't let him go in there alone." Mike Larocque said.
"If something happens..." Barron added.
"...he'll get killed." Fuhrman finished.
"Ok one drink and then we leave and we carry him out if we have
to." The three friends followed the old bartender in. Less than 50 fifty
away the captain of the USS FEYNMAN exited from a small non-descript store
and slowly began walking in the general direction of the Wall."
<<<NRPG>>>
Mike/Kevin/Kris: Well if your planning any fun in the Wall you've got
four more participants and one more on the way! <BEG>


Respectfully,<br>
Respectfully,<br>
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