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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>
{{Template:USS_FEYNMAN_POST_ARCHIVES}}
{{Template:USS_FEYNMAN_POST_ARCHIVES}}
<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 3,616: Line 3,616:
Kristen & Scott Gant<br>
Kristen & Scott Gant<br>
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm<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>
Andy<br>
-Captain Zane, Commanding Officer, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence Officer, BLUE FLEET<br>
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