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<div style="float:right; margin-top: 25px; padding-right: 200px;">[[Image:FEYNMAN PATCH DRAFT2.png|450px|FEYNMAN Shoulder Patch|center]]</div>
<div style="float:right; margin-top: 25px; padding-right: 200px;">[[Image:FEYNMAN PATCH DRAFT2.png|450px|FEYNMAN Shoulder Patch|center]]</div>


<font style="font-size: large; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">TOTAL FEBRUARY 1997 POSTS: *TBD*</font>
<font style="font-size: large; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">TOTAL FEBRUARY 1997 POSTS: 30</font>
<br>
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<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Doing Some Research</h3>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Doing Some Research</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by  
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by  
Kevin Sherrod Thigpen 2-14-1997</h4>
Kevin Thigpen 2-14-1997</h4>


Stardate: 90214.0211<br>
Stardate: 90214.0211<br>
Line 1,309: Line 1,309:
[NRPG: So we have a target now. Oh boy, things are going to get rough
[NRPG: So we have a target now. Oh boy, things are going to get rough
now.]
now.]
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Poked By the Needle</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Jason Bostjancic 2-14-1997</h4>
SD: 90214<br>
MD: 4.1645<br>
Tarrant blinked, then blinked again. It was.. well, he didn't
know what time it was. Although he knew it was a few days
since they had left Epsilon. The CEO had set up some
holo-emmiters in what the engineering staff was calling
'Koreth's Lair' - Three temporary walls were set up in one of
the corners of Main Engineering.
At first, he found himself drawn toward the technical readouts
of this thing or that.. most of which he couldn't figure out
intuitively, and that almost ALWAYS caused the inquisitive partial
Klingon to dive deeper into the pool. But now he had grown into
zombie mode.. searching for any clues to where a base might be.
It had taken less than a day to program the computer to make the
time and astral change projections for the star chart that was
now being holo-projected in 3-d. But that information was far from
complete. Paritally because Epsilon was more interrested in the
tactical capabilities of the Husnock ship, with her current situation,
than they were with astral history. Thus, large darkened sections of
incomplete data of the SACK tormented Tarrant.
Also, what made the data extraction so complicated was that
large portions of the Husnock data itself was encrypted. Trying
to translate encrypted data and language into another form that
is not fully understood in itself poses quite a problem. He had tried
to translate the encrypted data directly... but without a full working
knowledge of basic Husnock the majority of the information came
back garbled.
What Tarrant was now brought down to was having the computer
try to find any bits of data that it could correlate with anything else,
within the set aprameters... then he would have to overlook
that bit and determine if it 'made sense'.
<Correlated data section found: Probable 86% match.>
Eighty-six... it was better than some, but worse than most.
"Computer, Display data section"
It sounded more like a plea than a command. But the computer
wasn't picky.
A stream of symbols flashed across the terminal. Some Tarrant
had deciphered.. Even with the translated symbols substituted
there was little to be gained.
"Computer, show comparison of known correlated data."
What came up on the screen was a complex chemical formula. On
the Husnock side a section of certain repeated symbols had
trigered the correlation. It was the third time Tarrant had seen
a formula pop up.
The compound itself held only about three unknowns, while the
rest of the compounds were easily identified and quite common.
"Computer, what's the source of the 'known' sample."
<Known sample was obtained from the Husnock Vessel at Starbase
Epsilon, Stardate 8.10..>
Tarrant butted in. "Computer, display those sample reports."
Although he had almost loaded the FEYNMAN's data storage with
anything that the Starbase had learned, there was enough left
behind that he worried that the report wouldn't be there.
Luckily it was. The compound came from part of the Husnock's ship's
hull, near the aft section. The best Tarrant could remember from
being on her, it was near the engine area.
"Computer, cross reference the three unknown element symbols
with all data relating planets and moons. List results in highest to
least by correlation."
<nowiki>.......................</nowiki><br>
Scene: Bridge<br>
Visually tired, Lt. Commander Koreth stepped onto the Bridge.
Zane spun in his chair to face him. "Have you found anything
Mr. Koreth?"
"I have two possible destinations. A moon and a planet.
I'm not sure as to what the Husnock's called them.. but they've
been delegated ST318 and SV107 by our computer."
"And how did you come by those destinations?", asked Maril.
"For the short of it.. a compound that makes up part of the
Husnock's hull has three unknowns. Of those three unknowns, one
of each of thier symbols was found in Husnock data files that
contained starchart information... more specificly, those two locations."
Maril frowned, "That dosen't mean that there is a base there."
"True," agreed Tarrant, "but we do know the Husnock were
there, that its in the Sack, and some how they relate to elements
they used in thier ships."
Zane summed it up, "It sounds like a start."
<NRPG>
Will the base be there? Probably not. But maybe we'll find
some evidence of mining or a huge red arrow
pointing to the right destination ;)
It is just a start.
Respectfully,<br>
Jason<br>
Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE<br>
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN<br>
Potest esse nur unus<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: I Think We're Alone Now</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 2-15-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90214.2314<br>
Scene: Krysa's Quarters<br>
MD: 3.1750<br>
Krysa was humming as she set the small table in her quarters. Looking up
at the clock she noticed that there was still nearly 10 minutes before her
guest was due to arrive. She found herself feeling a bit nervous though she
couldn't understand why. After all they had been friends for quite a while
now. Though this was the first time they would be having dinner alone in
her quarters. But it had just felt right when she asked him the other night
over empty banana split boats.
She smiled remembering that evening. She had been positively giddy between
her success with the trading routes and the sheer amount of chocolate syrup
she had drenched her ice cream with. They had laughed and had an great time
chatting, though surely he must have thought her a bit loony. But truly
nothing could have calmed her light-hearted mood that evening. Still he had
agreed to come tonight for a last night of relaxation before they enter
then 'sack tomorrow.
She turned to rearrange some plants on shelves and pictures on walls as
time ticked slowly by while she waited for him. She checking the clock
which was just about to strike 1800 when her door chime rang. She grinned,
on time as usual.
She moved to the door releasing the locking mechanism and smiled at the
tall captain waiting outside her door.
"Good evening, Commander," he said quietly.
"Won't you come in, Captain," she said moving aside to allow him in.
His eyes looked over the elegant table setting and soft light as he sniffed
the spicy aroma, "Something smells wonderful." He said.
She smiled, "Well thank you, it is one of Bat's recipes."
He raised an eyebrow remember the last meal Bat had prepared for them which
they had shared in his office. She chuckled, "Don't worry, I checked over
every ingredient myself. Of course you realize that means it may not be as
good as some of Bat's recipes. I'm sure that man has secrets which would ..
uhm .. best be left as secrets."
Zane laughed, "I agree."
He moved to take a seat at the table. "Candlelight?" he asked with a
teasing grin.
"Uhm huhm," she hummed, and her eyes twinkled, "Bat told me that
candlelight makes food taste better. Even replicated food."
<<NRPG: Hey it's Valentine's day! I couldn't resist as I sit home alone
cause my sweetie has to work :{>>
****
Scene: Bridge
MD: 4. 1730
<Team two, ready for take off, sir,> came Jerran's voice over the comm
system.
<Team one, ready as well, sir,> Maril's voice followed.
"Team two is in line to leave first, Captain," Krysa said looking up at
Zane in his center seat.
"Team two, you are cleared to leave," Zane told the waiting team.
Krysa switched the view screen to the side of the Feynman as the Nogura II
and two attack bees flew appeared on the screen briefly before veering off
on their course for the supply lines. "Team two is clear of the FEYNMAN."
"Team one, you are cleared to leave." Zane repeated for Maril's team.
They watched as the two shuttlecraft, along with two shuttlepods flew onto
the screen crossing a different direction the first team had gone.
"Team one is clear of the FEYNMAN, sir," she said. Then under her breath
she added, "Take care of yourselves."
The ship suddenly felt empty though in reality it was far from empty. But
with all their friends heading into unknown and dangerous situations, they
couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness.
Regards,<br>
Lt. Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
***<br>
NRPG: "I think we're alone now.."
I know I didn't add much but it was a fun post anyway :}
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: The Plots Thicken</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 2-15-1997</h4>
SD: 90215.2130<br>
MD: 3.1750<br>
Scene: Deckway<br>
Zane walked along the deckway trying his best to look
inconspicuous. The bottle of wine he carried was cradled in his arm
pressed firmly against his side. As FEYNMAN crew passed him in the hall
they exchanged polite greetings but as they continued by he thought he
caught the odd 'look' the odd 'knowing glance'. He had to admit it, with
a small tension relieving chuckle, he was nervous. In a big way. And the
fact that he was nervous made him even more nervous. And he found that
very discomforting. He had never really been nervous since...well he
couldn't remember. His first day at the Academy? No problem. Facing
Admiral Nicholas as a wet behind the ears ensign? Exhilerating. His
first shift as CSO? He had been born to do it. Having a dinner in his
second officer's cabin? Well a red alert right now would be a godsend.
And, he told himself, a very large disappointment. The 16 hours since
Krysa had invited him had been some of the longest hours in his lfe. Even
with all the pre-mission activities he found he couldn't keep himself busy
enough to stop looking at the chrono.
But now he was here. "Computer time."
<<Ship's time is now 17:59>>
His heart raced as he pressed the signal. Seconds later the doors
swished open and he prayed that his face portrayed a look that was much
calmer than he felt. And in reality it did until he saw Krysa.
Unconsciously he let out a gasp which he immediately prayed to the god of
every religion everywhere she didn't hear. Simultaneously he was filled
with a sense of victory. He had struggled all night with the decision of
what to wear. Uniform or casual. He had picked correctly.
<I>
"Good evening, Commander," he said quietly.
"Won't you come in, Captain," she said moving aside to allow him in.
His eyes looked over the elegant table setting and soft light as he sniffed
the spicy aroma, "Something smells wonderful." He said.
She smiled, "Well thank you, it is one of Bat's recipes."
He raised an eyebrow remember the last meal Bat had prepared for them which
they had shared in his office. She chuckled, "Don't worry, I checked over
every ingredient myself. Of course you realize that means it may not be as
good as some of Bat's recipes. I'm sure that man has secrets which would ..
uhm .. best be left as secrets."
Zane laughed, "I agree."
He moved to take a seat at the table. "Candlelight?" he asked with a
teasing grin.
"Uhm huhm," she hummed, and her eyes twinkled, "Bat told me that
candlelight makes food taste better. Even replicated food."<br>
</I>
"May I?" He asked, suddenly, and finally, feeling at ease. He
gestured towards the wine.
"Please." She replied
With a smile he quickly opened the bottle and poured each of them
a glass.
<I>
****<br>
Scene: Bridge<br>
MD: 4. 1730<br>
<Team two, ready for take off, sir,> came Jerran's voice over the comm system.
<Team one, ready as well, sir,> Maril's voice followed.
"Team two is in line to leave first, Captain," Krysa said looking up at
Zane in his center seat.
"Team two, you are cleared to leave," Zane told the waiting team.
Krysa switched the view screen to the side of the Feynman as the Nogura II
and two attack bees flew appeared on the screen briefly before veering off
on their course for the supply lines. "Team two is clear of the FEYNMAN."
"Team one, you are cleared to leave." Zane repeated for Maril's team.
They watched as the two shuttlecraft, along with two shuttlepods flew onto
the screen crossing a different direction the first team had gone.
"Team one is clear of the FEYNMAN, sir," she said. Then under her breath
she added, "Take care of yourselves."
The ship suddenly felt empty though in reality it was far from empty. But
with all their friends heading into unknown and dangerous situations, they
couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness.<br>
</I>
Zane rose from the center seat and stood between OPS and HELM,
silently watching the shuttles speed away. He had not wanted them to
leave this far out. He had prefered to have the FEYNMAN in the vicinity
of each group as it departed to counter any possible lurkers. But both
teams had argued, correctly he admitted to himself, that with a nebula
this size and with very little intelligence pointing to enemy movements it
really wouldn't matter. They would either have good luck or bad and
whether they launched today or next week they'd still be on their own.
Fortunately the two locations Commander Koreth had pinpointed as a
possible Husnock base were close enough to one of the major Xanthandi
spacelanes. So while both groups would be seperated from each other and
the FEYNMAN they'd all still be realtively close if things got hairy.
"Helm have the FEYNMAN take a leisurely course towards Commander
Maril's teams. Half impulse."
"Half impulse, aye."
The captain stared out at the swirling gases of the nebula. He
hated having to choose between the two but when it came dowen to harsh
realities, locating and securing the Husnock base was of primary
concern. That knowledge didn't make the decision any easier.
As if sensing his thoughts Kyrsa looked up at him. "Jerran can
take care of things"
"I know." He looked down at her. "Besides, they've got the
Nanities on their side. Both smiled at the thought. In the briefing Zane
had expressed concern in the fact that using the Nanites to disable any
supply depots might mean a one way mission. He had explained quite
bluntly to Dr. Pasteur that they might not be coming back. The answer
began with a diatribe of insults at the captain's expense. Of course
they weren't coming back, Pasteur argued, that would be foolish. After
they had done enough damage they would transfer themselves over to a
Xanthandi ship and move to the next base and render it useles and then
continue the process as long as they could. Starfleet and the Federation
had done much for their race and this, he reasoned, was an excellent way
to repay their debts. Nanites, apparently, always payed their debts.
He wondered if he could give a medal to Nanites.
<<<NRPG>>>
Just tying some things up...
Kris: Zane grew up on REPULSE where there were no other civilians or
females his age. In the Academy he was too busy trying to ace his courses
so now he is on his very first date!<BG> So if you want to continue that
please be understanding<EG>
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: The Date</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 2-16-1997</h4>
Stardate: 80216.1616<br>
Scene: Krysa's Quarters<br>
MD: Evening of the third day... (backpost stuff)<br>
As the platter cleared, the wine bottle drained, and the candle burned, the
two talked. With chatting about Krysa's life in the Betazed Embassy on
Earth and Zane's life on the REPULSE they were able to avoid the subject of
the 'sack' and the dangers that awaited them and their colleagues there.
Which helped to make it a very relaxing evening.
They had moved from the table to the couch where they could sit more
comfortably. Krysa was very happy. They were able to spend time together
and learn something of the other. The wine added to the feeling as it made
her a little light-headed and giddy.
As she sat there watching Zane speak of his Academy days, she couldn't help
but wonder why they hadn't done this sooner. Even were nothing more to ever
come from this, at least for tonight she was having wonderful time. She was
glad to see that he was enjoying himself as well.
"So you were a serious student, were you?" she asked.
"Oh yes." He nodded. "Weren't you?"
Krysa chuckled, "In some things. I was very serious in my quest to try and
understand the psyche of intelligent beings .. but most of my time studying
that was social time. Most other things came easily enough that I could
pass without much difficulty. Which left me plenty of time to hang out in
the Student Union and study the behavior of my fellow classmates."
She looked at him, with a twinkle in her dark eyes. She might as well tell
him the truth. "Can I tell you a secret? Without fear of being demoted?"
"I won't make any promises. But maybe you'd better tell me anyway," he
said, his tone light.
She grimaced lightly, "Honestly .. I joined Starfleet because otherwise my
father would have sent me to Betazed, and I wasn't ready to leave Earth."
"Why?"
"I love Earth. I was born there, in the embassy, of course. But, my father
is a traditionalist as you've no doubt realized. He thought I'd be much
more likely to find a 'suitable match' there. And I've not doubt the fact
that Kavan was there was as much a part of his decision as anything. But
being an ambassador, he really couldn't fault my decision to stay on Earth
and go to the academy. Of course, I know it was the right choice no matter
what the original reasons were .. but it was a bit of an escape." She
fingered he glass a bit before continuing. "I have to admit to feeling a
bit guilty at my success, considering that fact. Not that I haven't worked
very hard for every bit of it .. but .."
She grinned, "So do you think less of me."
"No," he said quietly.
"Good," she smiled
***
The hours went by quickly, and Krysa lost track of time. In fact when Zane
pointed out how late it was getting she looked at the clock in shock.
"I can't believe I've kept you here so late," she said apologetically.
Especially with all the work they had to do in the morning as they would
reach the 'sack and the difficult part of their mission would begin.
"I'll be all right. You're the one who needs sleep .. not me."
She nodded, with a smile, "I can see where not needing sleep would have
it's advantages."
He shook his head, "Not necessarily. It only give you more hours in the day
to fill."
"Well, if you fill them with something other then work," she grinned, "It's
not so bad."
"No, that's true."
"So you don't mind me keeping you here for so long?" she asked, looking at
him.
He shook his head, "No, not at all. But I should probably leave so you can
get some sleep before tomorrow." He stood.
Krysa frowned. She hated to see him go, but she knew he was right. She
would have horrible dark circles under her eyes if she did not get some
sleep. And that was definitely not a very flattering look for her. She
stood following him to the door. "I'm glad you came."
"I'm glad you asked me."
She smiled, "You did leave it in my hands." She looked up into his eyes, "I
finally decided I was ready to do something more then just think about
things."
Regards<br>
Krysa<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: The Calm Before the...</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 2-15-1997</h4>
SD: 90215.1300<br>
SCENE: CSO's Office - Deck 15<br>
MD: 4.0830 (back in time a bit)<br>
J.C. lay his PADD down on top of the desk with a thud, angry at being distracted by
the growling of his stomach. The jitters in his gut made him feel like a new Cadet arriving at
the Academy for his first day. *Ridiculous,* he thought. Getting up, he made his way to the
replicator for a drink, hoping it would calm the excited butterflies darting about his stomach.
Seems before each mission, his stomach decided to have a mind of it's own. Unfortunately,
now was one of those times.
"Large glass of orange juice," instructed the CSO to the replicator. The citrus beverage fizzled
into existence, and he seized the glass an downed a few gulps. *That should do the trick,* he
thought. Seated once more, he picked up his PADD and made the final selections for the
away team. SCPO Alex Tamarov, his second in command, would lead P0/2 Ivan Karr's squad.
While J.C. would command SCPO T'boc's squad. He had ordered both squad commanders report
to the Main Shuttle Bay by 1200 hrs, in their 'blacks', full gear loaded. Also they were ordered
to conceal their comm badges and any other Starfleet or Federation markings on them or their gear.
With both J.C. and Alex elsewhere, security command would fall on the shoulders of PO/1 Jerry
Jonas. Glancing at his chronometer, he expected Mr. Jonas any minute for a little talk.
He sipped more of his cold orange juice, thinking of Alex Tamarov. If things went well
for the young NCO, this could be his last mission with the FEYNMAN. A few weeks ago, Alex
had announced his decision to apply to Starfleet Academy, through the OCS for non-commissioned
officers. Alex had requested to meet with Cdr. Maril, but the XO must have forgotten. He would
help Alex attempt to 'corner' the Commander after the mission.
The swoosh of the main doors to security opened, and Jerry Jonas bounded in, and
greeted Alex seated at the watch officer's desk. J.C. always kept his door open, and
waved the NCO inside. Jerry walk up, and stood at attention.
"Have a seat, Mr. Jonas," gestured J.C. to the two padded chairs opposite his desk.
Relaxing slightly, Jerry gingerly took a seat.
"Thank you, Sir." said Jonas. J.C. handed the NCO the away team roster, and he
scanned the contents quickly.
"Myself and Tamarov are taking T'boc's and Karr's squads. That leaves Matsumii's tac
squad, plus the three aux. weapons squads." J.C. looked into his deep green eyes.
Jerry nodded, understanding his CO's words. J.C. continued.
"Also, that leaves YOU in command, Mr. Jonas. I want you to stay at Tactical,
especially if you succeed in finding a Husnock ship or base. If the Captain
orders an away team, I've already ordered Matsumii to go. He's had more
experience on away missions, Jerry. I need you on the bridge where the Captain
and 2-0 can use your experience." The expression on Jerry's face revealed the
effect of J.C.'s words of encouragement on the NCO.
"Thank you, Lt. Allard." beamed Jerry.
"And Mr. Jonas..." , J.C. paused a brief moment. "Sir?"
"Any order the 'old man' gives..." said J.C., referring to Zane. Thinking of their
run-in with Mr. Mason during their last 'sack mission, and the Captain's 'unpleasant'
mood for several days following, J.C. really didn't want to endure that ever again.
"Will be carried out, word for word. Orders received and understood, Sir."
"Dismissed, Jerry." The NCO stood, nodded a playful grin to his CO, and the
office.
"Now," said J.C. "to get changed into something a little more appropriate to our clandestine
operations," He got up and headed for his quarters...
<- SNIP ->
MD: 4.1130<br>
SCENE: Turbolift<br>
"...and he actually scaled that mountain all by himself. I was really impressed."
said J.C. to his ACSO, Alex Tamarov. Both dressed in the Tactical Operation Uniforms,
or 'blacks' for short. Tricorder, sidearm, and rifle all just in case.
"I wish I could have been there to see the Admiral for myself." replied Alex.
"That would be a good learning experience. Maybe I'll suggest letting the senior
NCO's in mission briefings. Maybe rotate departments or something." said J.C. The lift
stopped to deposit them onto Deck 11.
"Yeah. Officers have all the fun," said Alex teasingly. They stepped out of the lift
and made their way to the Main Shuttle Bay, their rifles bouncing against the men's backs.
"Watch it there, Alex. You may be trading all those silver pips for a single gold one
soon." They both laughed, and reached the Shuttle Bay entrance. The doors parted to the
expanse of the home to the FEYNMAN's auxiliary craft. Flight Department people were
making final preparations and double-checking (and per Lt. Jerran, probably triple-checking)
each attach bee and the NOGURA. J.C. spotted the Counselor, Ens. Loren Landers, leaning
against the VON BRAUN checking some small containers.
"Hello Loren," greeted J.C. After quickly becoming friends, the CSO and CNS had dispensed
with formalities and protocol, except when in the company of their superiors. Loren exchanged
greetings with J.C. and Alex. The ACSO spotted the security squads assembled at the far
side of the bay.
"Excuse me Loren," said J.C. "Have to go check up on my people." Alex and J.C. made
their way to the group of security officers. SCPO T'boc noticed their approach, and ordered
them to attention. J.C. removed his rifle for a moment, tired of his bouncing against his back.
"Attention on deck," though his calm Vulcan tone was a far cry from many NCO's, the two
security squads formed up and became silent, T'boc and Ivan Karr standing in front of their
respective squads. J.C. ran over the briefing again, and when no one offered any questions,
Alex released them.
"Dismissed, But stay on the flight deck." said the ACSO. J.C. started to go back to Loren.
He had heard strange stories about the nanites, and was quite curious.
[Bridge to Main Shuttle Bay.] Commander Maril's voice boomed through the flight deck like an
announcer at a sporting event.
[Team 2, we have a target for you. Usani, his army with fist closed. Good luck men.]
The two security squads instantly scrambled into the runabout, J.C. paused at the door until the
last of his people were aboard, then climbed through the NOGURA II's hatch. Making his way to
the conn, J.C. took a seat in the ops chair to the left of Lieutenant Jerran.
"Welcome aboard, Mr. Allard," muttered the FCO, and temporary Captain of the NOGURA II. "I trust
all of your team members are aboard?" Jerran asked.
"Yes sir. We're ready." said J.C. The FCO nodded, and began departure procedures. While J.C.
did hold a Level-6 pilots rating, it had been over a year since he had taken one out, let alone
in potential combat. Moments later, clear of the FEYNMAN, J.C. turned to the sensors, trying to
coax some more information about what they were facing.
"Lieutenant Jerran. I read three ships, unknown type. Now this is strange." said J.C. Jerran
frowned.
"Can you enlighten us, Mr. Allard." said Jerran.
"Sir. Massive leakage from the phase coils, several hull breaches in unoccupied area of
each ship. The SIF is at 77% on the best ship. Also... this can't be right?" J.C. paused,
and keyed in a quick level-5 diagnostic on the short-range sensors, but the system responded
100%.
"I thought the sensors were in error, but I'm definitely reading large quantities of Uranium
aboard EACH ship." Jerran leaned over to observe J.C. console. Loren had gotten up from
his seat to take a look.
"Uranium...?" said the Counselor. "That could only mean ...?"
Submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
splatter2@qtm.net<br>
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br>
* Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard CSO - USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG          *<br>
* Lt. (Dr.) D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - OPS/20 - USS E. BLACKWELL SILVER FLEET *<br>
* Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny CNS - USS BURKE GREEN FLEET                    *<br>
* Lcdr. Ion Steiner L.C. - SFDOC TEAM ALPHA-1 SFDOC                    *<br>
* Codr. Johan Baurr - COMSFDOC "All I ask is a tall ship..."            *<br>
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Moving the Rock</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Kevin Thigpen 2-17-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90217.2305<br>
Scene:USS NOGURA II (runabout)<br>
MD: 4.1650<br>
"Slowing to two-thirds impulse," reported Jerran to no one in particular.
Loren's eyes widened but he said nothing. Jerran was in charge and the
best damn pilot he knew right now. He wasn't going to interrupt him.
He could do something to help though. Turning back to his screen, Loren
extended the sensors to extreme range. Those freighters were carrying
uranium...that much the sensors and Allard had told. Why they were
carrying it was easily seen too.
An old element used so far back he couldn't remember, but what is was
once
used for he could recall. Old-fashioned atomics. Planet cleansers.
Destroys all life rendering a planet completely uninhabitable. Tapping in
a few commands Loren could also determine a projected course for the
freighters...a point midway to the Kzin homeworld.
If the Xanthandi couldn't have the planet, then apparently they'd decided
no one could.
A hard blast suddenly rocked the runabout pitching her to port. Sparks
flew from Loren's sensor console. Putting up his arms barely protected
him from the spray.
"Hey, okay?"
Loren could barely make out the words of Allard who had come up from the
back of the runabout.
"Yea, I'll make it."
Picking himself up off the floor, Loren's ears readjusted as the warning
klaxons onboard the runabout became audible.
"Have the killer bees come about and form back up. This starship isn't
letting up even in this asteroid field," urgently but emotionlessly spoke
Jerran.
The Cheyenne class cruiser had pursued the NOGURA II into the field and
not slowed a bit. Asteroids continued to glance off it's forward shields
but it relentlessly pursued the small shape weaving and ducking behind the
space rocks several kilometers in front of it.
"Spearhead formation with the bees on wings, full impulse" came Jerran's
next order.
He knew that the small team was outgunned and outmaneuvered. The only
option was to change the rules of engagement a little. This one would
require skill. Fortunately, he didn't doubt himself.
"Come to course 34 mark 3."
"Sir, that's right on course for the heart of the asteroid belt," came the
tremulous voice of CWO Dunnon.
"Tell the killer bees to stay on my wings and copy my maneuvers EXACTLY,"
replied Jerran ignoring Dunnon's announcement.
Allard had taken off to the back of the runabout with his team, as Loren
scrambled back into his chair. Outside the window, Loren could make out
the dim shape of a large asteroid, directly in the middle of the window.
The NOGURA seemed to creep up on the asteroid as Dunnon called out
distances at which the unknown starship was to their aft.
"150,000 km."
Another blast rocked the runabout.
"Aux power to rear shields. I need them up for another ten seconds. Tell
the bees to break port and starboard on my order."
A look passed between Jerran and his copilot, who simply nodded. Loren
didn't need to be a telepath to see that more was communicated between
the two than actually said.
"80,000 km and closing."
The asteroid seemed to fill up most of the front window.
"Keep her steady."
The runabout shook again from another glancing blow.
Dunnon yelled over the klaxons, "Port stabilizer gone. Losing attitude
control!"
"Compensate with maneuvering thrusters," forcefully spoke Jerran.
Dunnon reported again, "40,000 km. They've gone to full impulse!"
"Now," ordered Jerran in his usual flat tone.
Loren felt the gees as he slunk lower into his seat and Jerran pulled off
a maneuver worthy of years of bragging rights in the FCO lounge on
EPSILON.
The killer bees broke left and right as ordered. But the NOGURA pulled an
unbelievably sharp turn straight up...and back in the direction it was
running from.
Heading directly for the starship which had gone to full impulse, in a
shuttle which was at full impulse, Jerran didn't even break a sweat.
Banking the shuttle right at the last possible moment to avoid the
starship's shields, Jerran put the shuttle close enough to nearly SEE into
the dorsal viewport directly over the ship's bridge.
Obviously, Jerran's kamikaze run directly at the starship frazzled an FCO
already frazzled by flying at full impulse in an asteroid field. The
starship, lacking the maneuverability and gall of the NOGURA's pilot
glanced off the asteroid several times its mass.
It's shields went from green to a fiery orange and then vanished
altogether as the starboard side of it's saucer section gave the asteroid
a glancing blow. Bulkhead pieces gave way as parts of the starship
floated along the solar winds helped by the force of impact.
"Reading severe damage to its power distribution system. Weapons
offline and engines inoperative," happily reported Dunnon. "They're not
going anywhere for awhile."
The thought of boarding the starship crossed Loren's mind, but he thought
of the mission instead. There was a supply depot that needed destroying
and on top of that boarding a fully armed starship was very different from
capturing a freighter.
In a few minutes, the small minorly damaged team found themselves back at
the coordinates for the freighters.
The two ships hung silently in space. Apparently the damage inflicted had
been more than the team initially thought.
"One of the ship's has no engine capability. It's the one that one of
their own fighters ran into. The ship is completely adrift. I'm also
detecting high levels of lethal radiation and no life signs onboard," came
Dunnon's report.
"Apparently their cargo got to them before we did," commented Loren.
"Well at least we have a target now. Counselor if you would please
notify Allard and his men that boarding will commence shortly on the other
freighter. We'll try
to put them in a quiet place on the freighter if we can," ordered Jerran.
Respectfully submitted,<br>
Kevin Thigpen<br>
Ens. Loren Landers<br>
USS FEYNAM CNS<br>
NRPG: Well, I hope I resolved the issue of the starship. I didn't think
it'd be feasible to destroy them. Besides now, they can come back and
haunt us. :) . I like the uranium twist! The ball's in your court now
Mike. Of course, if it's possible, Loren will accompany the team onto the
freighter. I was thinking we'd capture the freighter and find the
coordinates for the supply depot and then do some real damage.
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: The Trip to ST318</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 2-18-1997</h4>
SD 90218.0330(GMT)<br>
MD 4.1800<br>
Shuttlecraft "Cochrane":Forward<br>
Maril looked out the front window into empty
space. Except it wasn't
empty. It was like the great sea of Reval,
swirling, moving, attacking. Slowly,
Maril tore himself away from the view and turned
his attention back to the
display, which showed most of the basic known
information on the Husnock.
Suddenly, Maril looked up. "Commander
Koreth," he began, "I want you to
take command of the 'Cousteau'. Keep her on the
same course. Just tell Mr.
Harkone that you're taking command. I want to
have someone over there
when we get to ST318."
Koreth looked surprised, but stood up and
walked over to the transporter
pad, ready to energize.
"Maril to Shuttlecraft 'Cousteau'. Position
yourself for transport.
Commander Koreth will be beaming over."
[Aye, sir. We're in position.]
Maril nodded to an engineering officer who
was sitting by the transporter
control console. "Energize."
Maril watched the form of Lt. Commander
Koreth shimmer and fade before
turning back to the communication. "Do you have
him, Cousteau?"
[Yes, sir, Commander Koreth is safely
aboard.]
"Good. Continue on previous course.
Cochrane out."
MD 5.0000
"We're approaching ST318, sir," Lt. Meleah
reported clearly.
Maril stood up from the chair he had been
sitting in for the past six hours,
reviewing the technology and society of the
Husnock to have a better
understanding when they came to whatever was on
the moon. "Good. The
snails of Imelvin could have beaten us here." The
shuttles had been slightly
delayed by an encounter with some space debris,
but they had finally reached
their destination.
Mariil touched the communications console.
"This is Commander Maril to
all shuttles. We are nearing our destination of
the moon ST318. The 'Daystrom'
and the 'Reyga' should circle the area, making a
makeshift perimeter of defense.
Keep your sensors on maximum. With the little
firepower we have, we want to
detect any threats as soon as possible. The
'Cousteau' and the 'Cochrane' will
orbit ST318 and beam down their teams, leaving a
small crew behind on each
shuttle. Maril out."
Maril stepped back from the console and
walked to the pilot's seat.
"Lieutenant Meleah, I want you to stay here on the
'Cochrane' for now. We
need someone in orbit to manage the shuttles if
there is a problem."
"Aye, sir," came the reply, the speaker not
changing her expression one bit.
"We are now nearing the moon, sir."
"Report."
"The moon appears to be fairly rocky and
about twice the volume of Earth's
moon. There is one liquid nitrogen ocean near the
southern pole. Atmosphere
is 85% nitrogen, 12% oxygen, 3% carbon dioxide.
Temperaure is approximately
-3 degrees centigrade at the equator and -75
degrees centigrade at the poles.
Geological action near-"
"Any signs of artificial structures, perhaps
built by the Husnock?"
Meleah looked over the sensor display for a
moment before responding.
"Yes. There appears to be an abandoned mining
station in the southern
hemisphere, approximately 8 kilometers in
diameter."
Maril again touched the communications
control. "'Cochrane' to 'Cousteau'.
We'll be beaming down to the abandoned mining
base. Ready your team, Mr.
Koreth. We'll be beaming down in about twenty
minutes."
[Aye, sir,] Koreth replied. [Should my team
beam to any particular
location?]
"Try to get close to the main power grid and
get basic systems online. From
there, try to access the computer logs for clues
to the location of a base. My
team will search the base for information on the
Husnock and their technology
and buildiung structure." Turning to Meleah, he
asked, "Is it habitable inside
the base?"
Without looking at the sensor readout this
time, Meleah answered, "It should
be. Most of the basic systems, even life support,
may have failed, but by that
time, all the Husnock were dead. The atmosphere
should be breathable for a
time, although the temperatures will be below
normal humanoid levels. Are
you sure you do not want me accompanying you,
sir?"
Maril smiled. "No, that's alright,
Lieutenant. If we need you, we'll call for
you."
MD 5.0020
Maril stood with a group of science and
engineering officers with various
equipment standing on the transporter pad.
Actually, only half of the
beamdown team from the 'Cochrane' was on the pad,
but that was only becuase
of the pad's size. The rest of the team would be
beam down right after this
section did.
Maril nodded to Lieutenant Meleah.
"Energize."
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer, USS Feynman,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
NRPG:
I decided to skip over the meeting, since most of
what was going to be
mentioned was in this post, and I wanted to move
the mission along. Unless
someone had something important to say in the
meeting, it really was not
important.
Jason, Melanie: Choose about half of your team to
be on the 'Cochrane' and half
on the 'Cousteau', plus one each on the 'Daystrom'
and the 'Reyga'.
Melanie: Maybe you could generate some disaster to
affect the shuttles so you
don't get bored. <g>
All: While looking through my files, I found the
actual posts, *on paper*, that
have the crash of the orginal _Nogura_ on an
asteroid in the 13 Persei system,
with Jenn piloting and Jerran lying helplessly in
the aft compartment (also
known as the Great Shuttle Accident). I think
I'll wait a while before releasing
them, though. :) Unless someone would like to know
what actually happened. ;)
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Old Enemies</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 2-18-1997</h4>
NRPG: The first portion of this post was written by Ted. I decided it was
time to bring our friend home .. Hope you're ready, Ted :}<br>
Kristen<br>
<nowiki>______________</nowiki><br>
SD: 90211.2100<br>
MD: ????<br>
Scene: An obscure port within the Coalsack<br>
To an outside observer, Dee was a humanoid female, attractive by the
standards of her genus, confident, purposeful, and in somewhat of a rush.
In short, almost identical to any one of hundreds of individuals who tread
the dull metal corridors on a daily basis.
But it was a sham. The confidence, the purpose... merely a thin veneer
reflexively assumed by a natural actor. Terror and angst circulated
through her system, wrestling with her reason, her will, her instinct to
survive. Alpha Centauri was far away; hence, the fear was manageable.
Nonetheless, the image of the twisted, broken body was forever burned into
her retina; her contact, one of three, her partner in extortion. Dead.
The other two were also dead. She discovered it almost incidentally, as
she fled from the system. The voice of the news announcer echoed in her
head... 'Motive unknown.' Not frightening words in and of themselves, but
terrifying in their implications.
They'd discovered her. They'd not been fooled one instant.
And they would surely seek revenge.
She had kicked herself so often she just couldn't feel it any more. Why
had she done it? Why did she think she could? Why did she think she could
extort a whole _race_ of Machiavellian killing machines?
She reached the docking berth and handed over the token to the being
waiting there. "Ru sent me," she said simply. The creature took the
token, slipped it into its PADD, and motioned her into the ship. Dee
entered.
She wondered how long she could keep from screaming...
<nowiki>___________________</nowiki><br>
Cold claws clicked on the shuttle's controls; impassive eyes absorbed
information thoughtlessly. The shuttle's pilot steered the craft through
space with ease. The shuttle's owner lay in the copilot's seat.
Dead.
His usefulness was done.
Idly, the pilot mused upon the apparent predictability of humanoid life
forms. Their patterns of flight were consistent, repetitive. One had to
wonder how they survived for as long as they had. Evidence, apparently,
that they faced no overwhelming threat during their millions of years of
development. Their instinct for flight was residual, imperfect. Soft with
disuse.
Which was just as well. Silently, the Trader-Monk once known as 'Sparky'
set a course for the Lion's Mane nebula, confident that its prey would be
waiting.
<nowiki>___________________</nowiki><br>
Stardate: 90218.1215<br>
Scene: In the 'Sack<br>
MD: 4.1800<br>
"Are you done yet?" she snapped as he stood over her with a tissue
regenerator. She hadn't really meant to. Unfortunately her nerves were
frayed.
"Listen, lady. I don't need to take this crap from you. Had Ru told me you
were such a bitch, I never would have taken this job." He smirked. "Guess
I'll just have to leave the signs of my .. handiwork visible."
"I'm sorry," she said forcing herself to be apologetic, "I'm just a bit
drained. You don't know what these things are like .."
"What? Those over grown Storks!" he scoffed.
"They got Pauly .. and Dex. Don't think they can't get us if we aren't
careful," she hissed. "Now please, finish your job, or we won't be able to
pull this off."
The man looked about ready to refuse. He did not like this woman, and was
almost instantly sorry he'd agreed from the moment she'd stepped on his
ship. But Ru was paying him a lot of money. And this would be a breeze ..
simply hide the woman away. He could do that.
With a resigned sigh he went back to his job. He was almost finished
anyway. A few more passes .. "There you are. You're own mother wouldn't
recognize you."
"God, I hope not," Dee groaned, "Where's a mirror?"
The man handed her a mirror. She smiled happily at the smooth cheekbones,
and pert nose. "Excellent. Do you have the uniform?"
He nodded, "Of course." He turned and handed her a box. She quickly opened
it, pulling out a neatly pressed mustard and black Starfleet uniform. She
frowned at the single pip in the collar of the turtleneck. "An ensign?? Why
an ensign?"
"Because there are so many of them. It's much easier to impersonate a new
ensign."
She continued to frown, but grudgingly had to agree. "Now you're sure
you'll find a ship in here?"
The man chortled, "Of course. My sources tell me that nearly every ship in
Silver is hiding somewhere in this nebula."
"Fine, I'll go change and then we start looking."
<nowiki>___________________</nowiki><br>
She was putting the finishing touches on the uniform and admiring herself
when the ship rocked. Instantly her heart was in her throat. How had he
found her so quickly? She raced out the door and into the main room,
"What's going on?" she cried, afraid of the answer.
The room was smoky and as there was no answer she had to conclude the man
was either dead or unconscious. She slowly made her way to the front of the
civilian shuttlecraft, gripping the walls as she went. She nearly fell flat
on her newly redone face as she stumbled over the body of her colleague.
She reached down to see if he was alive when the ship shook once again and
a voice spoke over the comm panel.
<This .. Xanthandi Raider .. surrender, or .. destroy ..>
The Xanthandi? Then Sparky hadn't found her yet! She breathed a sigh of
relief and she hurried to the console to signal the Xanthandi.
<nowiki>___________________</nowiki><br>
Scene: Bridge, USS FEYNMAN<br>
MD: 4.1850<br>
"I believe your shift is over, Commander," she heard the Captain's voice
behind her.
She nodded, "I know. I just want to keep an eye out a little longer."
He leaned down over the console, "Garrett can keep an eye out .." The
Captain's words were interrupted by a chirping from her console.
The ensign at Navigation began moving her fingers over her panel just as
Krysa did. "Phaser fire at Mark 34 point 5." She said.
"Confirmed. Looks like a Xanthandi Raider, firing on a civilian shuttle ..
possibly a cargo shuttle." Krysa added.
"Our mission is clear .. and policing the nebula isn't a part of it." Zane
began, setting his face.
Krysa looked up at him, "Sir, we have a distress signal from the shuttle.
From an Ensign Mardee Wilson. She's on that shuttle .."
Zane frowned. He couldn't ignore a distress call particularly from a
Starfleet officer. "Ensign, set an intercept course. Commander Jenn,
continue tracking Team One. Hopefully we won't get out of range."
Regards<br>
Lt. Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
***<br>
NRPG: Well Andy, Ted .. I'll leave the fate of Ens. Wilson in your hands
for the moment. Will they figure out who she is?? Well, I'm sure under
Glin'kharr careful examination they could. But she will strenuously object
to going to sickbay :}
I think it likely that Krysa may take an instant dislike to her.. but she
won't know why. :}:}
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: Reporting But Not Ordered</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 2-18-1997</h4>
SD: 90218.1400<br>
Scene: Krysa's Quarters<br>
<I>
"So you don't mind me keeping you here for so long?" she asked, looking
at him.
He shook his head, "No, not at all. But I should probably leave so you
can get some sleep before tomorrow." He stood.
Krysa frowned. She hated to see him go, but she knew he was right. She
would have horrible dark circles under her eyes if she did not get some
sleep. And that was definitely not a very flattering look for her. She
stood following him to the door. "I'm glad you came."<br>
</I>
"I'm glad you asked me. Next time Ill make the plans. If your
interested of course."
"I am." She replied with a smile.
Zane leaned forward and she moved to meet him and before he was
sure it was evening happening the kiss that he had longed for all evening
was over. "Goodnight."
<nowiki>______________________________</nowiki><br>
Scene: Bridge, USS FEYNMAN<br>
MD: 4.1850<br>
<I>
The ensign at Navigation began moving her fingers over her panel just as
Krysa did. "Phaser fire at Mark 34 point 5." She said.
"Confirmed. Looks like a Xanthandi Raider, firing on a civilian shuttle
..possibly a cargo shuttle." Krysa added.
"Our mission is clear .. and policing the nebula isn't a part of it." Zane
Krysa looked up at him, "Sir, we have a distress signal from the shuttle.
From an Ensign Mardee Wilson. She's on that shuttle .."
Zane frowned. He couldn't ignore a distress call particularly from a
Starfleet officer. "Ensign, set an intercept course. Commander Jenn,
continue tracking Team One. Hopefully we won't get out of range."<br>
</I>
"Tactical." He ordered as he sat back into his chair. The
swirling mists of the nebula were replaced with an overview image of the
vicinity. FEYNMAN was represented as a blue fleet insignia, the Xanthandi
raider, a red arrowhead, the shuttle a yellow diamond. The red and yellow
icons were virtually one and the blue insignia was closing rapidly on them
both. "ETA?"
"Forty-five seconds." The tactical officer replied crisply.
"They don't seem to have noticed us."
"Its likely their sensors cant penetrate the nebula at this range.
By the time they realize we're here we'll be right on top of them." Jenn
added.
"They'll never know what hit them. Shields, weapons release."
"Aye sir." The excitement in the security officers voice plainly
evident. "We are in range!"
"Arm weapons."
The seconds ticked by.
"They've picked up something on their sensors." Jenn said after a
warning beep from her panel. "They're trying to evade."
"Fire!"
"Target destroyed. No other ships in the vicinity. The shuttle
is beginning to break up."
"Bridge to transporter, beam all occupants of the shuttle aboard."
Zane ordered. In the background the officer at TAC/SEC was ordering
security to Transporter Room 3.
"We've got one survivor sir."
"Very good. Destroy whats left of the shuttle. Helm layin an
evasive course back towards Commander Maril's team. Commander you have
the bridge."
<nowiki>___________________</nowiki><br>
Scene: Transporter Room 3<br>
"Report." The captain said as he strode into the room On the
floor, with two security officers, lay a Star Fleet ensign.
"Human female, unconscious. She's banged up pretty good but
nothing serious sir."
"Lets get her to sickbay."
Gently the two guards began to lift her and as they did so she
stirred. As her eyes opened she tried to focus on the grey face staring
down at her. Finally the fog cleared. "You!" She gasped.
"Do I know you ensign?" Zane asked feeling he did.
"No captain. I just didn't ever expect to see you. Ensign Mardee
Wilson reporting for.." A soft moan and she went limp.
Zane motioned to the door. "C'mon lets get her to the doctor."
<<<NRPG>>>
Just a short (and fairly wooden one) to keep things rolling
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: Enemy Amongst Us</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 2-19-1997</h4>
SD: 90219.1000<br>
MD: 4.1910<br>
Scene: Sickbay<br>
As the patient was tended by Dr. Glinkharr, Captain Zane moved to
one of the small staff offices to call the bridge.
[Bridge.] Came Krysas calm reply.
"Status."
[We're well clear of the shuttles last position. No ships appear
to be in the vicinity. I've put all offensive and defensive systems on
stand-down and sensors are back to passive mode. If anyone noticed us
they are going to have a hard time finding us now.] Zane let out a sigh
of relief before Jenn continued. [We just received a short burst from
Commander Maril. Code word: EUREKA.]
EUREKA. The word agreed upon to describe that they had found
something of interest. "Good. Were you able to pinpoint the signal?"
[No. It looks like the signal was bounced off just about every
piece of debris in the sack before it found us. If anyone else picked it
up they won't know where it came from.]
"Any word from Team 1?"
[No.] That was good, there wasn't supposed to be. [How's our
guest.]
Zane looked up at the doctor as he entered the office.
"Shaken-up" He answered. "She suffered a mild concussion and a
certain level of shock but she should be alright after two days of rest."
"Has she said anything?"
"Only that she is Ensign Mardee Wilson and that she was assigned
to us as a supply assistant."
"You expecting some replacements for your department Commander?"
[Well I did put in for some more operations staff including
supply but they were low priority. I wouldn't expect anyone until we had
completed this mission maybe even the next.]
"I see. Well, I think its time I introduced myself. Zane out."
Zane considered the lupine doctor for a few moments. "This is a
little out of the ordinary."
"When Starfleet bureaucracy is involved nothing is out of the
ordinary."
"True." He answered, rising from the desk and heading for Ensign
Wilsons biobed. "How are you feeling ensign?"
Wilson began to try to rise up from the bed but Zane motioned her
still. "Ensign Mardee Wilson reported as ordered sir."
"Ordered by who?"
Wilson looked slightly confused. "Commander G'tek at SILVER OPS.
I reported their from ALPHA on stardate 90203. My orders are in my
duffel."
"Unfortunately your belongings were destroyed with the shuttle
ensign. Who attacked you? What happened?"
"I'm not sure I was sleeping when it all began. We left
EPSILON.." She paused and her eyes went wide. "Where is Chief Kilret?"
Zane assumed she meant the shuttles pilot. "Im afraid he didn't
survive the attack. I'm sorry ensign but we need this information."
"Yes sir. Sorry sir. We left EPSILON 4 days ago trying to
catch up to you. The chief said he had to maintain communications silence
so we couldn't let you know we were behind you. When we got to the edge
of the sack our sensors picked up what the chief thought to be your trail
so we followed it in. He was sure that we were now only a few minutes
behind you. We entered the sack and, well the swirling gases were
mesmerizing I must have fallen asleep. Next thing I knew I was picking
myself up off the deck. Some sort of fighter was attacking. The chief
said it had come out of nowhere and taken out our shield generators with
its first salvo. He tried to get away but it was more maneuverable. I
tried to target it with the shuttles phasers.." She paused "I've never
been in combat before!
"Its ok ensign, your safe now."
"It just kept coming at us. Pounding us on all sides. I
thought....I thought" She began to shake. "I thought I was going to die.
Life support went and I guess I must have blacked out because suddenly I
was on this biobed."
"You don't remember the transporter room."
Wilson thought for a moment and then shook her head slowly. "No.
Captain who attacked us? Was it pirates? Commander G'tek told me their
where pirates in the sack.."
"There are a lot of dangerous things in the sack ensign which
makes it a little strange that SILVER would send out a replacement officer
for supply." *Especially when no one but the admiral knew we would be
here.* He thought to himself. "No offense ensign but it is not exactly a
crucial position. You could have waited until we returned."
"I know sir. But I wanted to get here. I wanted to start my
career. Commander G'tek was going to assign me to EPSILON operations
until FEYNMAN put in again but I asked him to let me join you now. He
checked with his CO and decided I'd be able to catch you in time." Her
voice trailed off. "I guess if I had waited the chief would still be
alive. Oh captain I'm so sorry. What have I done?" She began to cry.
Glinkharr muscled in beside Zane. "Captain I think it would be
best for Mardee to get some rest she's been through quite a lot."
"Understood doctor. Try to relax ensign." He smiled. "Now that
your here you've got lots of work to do. So hurry up and get out of
here."
She gave him a weak smile. "Yes sir."
MD:4.1930<br>
Scene: Ready-room.<br>
"...so you dont believe her." Jenn said, summing up what the
captain had just told her about Ensign Wilson.
"I'm not sure. Its a very mysterious situation. No one is
supposed to know we are here and yet we're sent a non-essential supply
officer. Into a dangerous environment no less. I've seen personnel do
some pretty stupid things in the past but this one?" He came back to the
argument that gave him the most trouble. "The admiral was pretty
concerned about secrecy I just don't seem him throwing that to the wind to
send us a supply clerk. It doesnt make sense."
"No it doesnt but do you have an alternate scenario?"
"Only ones that make as little sense as the one weve been handed.
Look shes in your department so see what your staff can find out. Until
we have any real evidence to the contrary we just have to believe what
we've been told. But I don't want her near any crucial ship operations
and I like her kept under surveillance. Unobtrusively of course."
"Of course." Jenn replied.
<<<NRPG>>>
Kris: Back to you.
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: Moving the Rock - Episode II</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 2-19-1997</h4>
STARDATE: 90219.2120<br>
SCENE: USS NOGURA II<br>
MD: 4.1650<br>
Both squads of security troops gazed beyond the NOGURA II's
viewports, into the bitter, numbing realities of combat. Majestic, and yet
gargantuan when compared to their FEYNMAN. The CHEYENE class starship that
had engaged and pursued the runabout now lay to their port side, dwarfing the
NOGURA II. Sleek in the design of her pearlescent hull, save for the missing starboard
side of the saucer section.
Starfleet officers and non-commissioned officers alike dealt with the
risks and hazards of space. That loss had touched, and wrenched at the hearts
and minds of nearly every trooper, save J.C. Starfleet losses had been overwhelming
recently, especially in SILVER. If this mission didn't have some success, the
BISMARK, PEARSON, and HAWKING could follow as SILVER's casualties mounted.
<nowiki>*Spirits, we've got to help them,*</nowiki> the CSO thought to himself. Swallowing hard, J.C.
tried to suppress the screams of their ghosts in the back of his mind. *I don't remember
a CHEYENE on regular patrol in this sector.* Then, it occurred to J.C. the may not
even been 'fleet, perhaps Maquis or renegades? Grey fleet?
Another shuddering though came to J.C. * If Lt. Jerran were to order his
squads split-up, J.C. would resolutely object, in the log if it came to that.
With just fourteen people total, the odds were already leaning in a direction he did
not favor. Their luck, they would board a troop transport.
Gradually everyone regained their composure, except for SCPO T'boc, who of
course never lost his. Returning to their seats, J.C. called his three NCO's T'boc, Karr,
and Tamarov.
"LT. Jerran will give us the 'go' any minute. As soon as they maneuver into position
and locate a appropriate point of entry for us." He halted as the front cabin door parted
to deposit the FEYNMAN's Counselor, Ens. Landers. Nodding to Loren, J.C. continued on
briefing his NCO's.
"I want a final weapons check. No last minute surprises for us." ordered the CSO.
"Sir," T'boc added, "I recommend a comm check also. In addition to serving a useful
purpose, it will provide a distraction from the waiting period." Everyone wore the
standard hands-free comm headset. Two channels, one for squad-level communications,
the other tied into the NOGURA II. Both scrambled, of course.
Alex, standing a few paces behind SCPO T'Boc, made a strange face as if to say
'I was about to suggest that', but decided to leave the Vulcan NCO alone, for now.
Mr. Karr, the most recent security NCO on the FEYNMAN, remained silent likewise.
"So ordered, Mr. T'boc. Complete all checks in five minutes, then have the troops
stand ready, Alex." A trio of 'aye Sirs trailed them, as they barked out the necessary
orders. J.C. turned his attention back to the inquisitive Counselor.
"What's on your mind, Loren." J.C. checked both channels of his own comm unit, though he
had already done so at least four times.
"Hey, I'm supposed to ask that question." Loren painted a sly smile on his face. In the
few months their friendship had grown, J.C. knew the Counselor was scheming something.
"Need an extra man?" asked Loren, seemingly from out of nowhere.
"With 'Captain Jerran's' approval, sure." J.C. reached over beside his seat,
grabbing his MARK-VII rifle. He held it upright, and tossed it to Landers. "That is,
if you think you can handle one of these." Loren picked the weapon from mid-flight.
"Now you really don't want me to remind you about my last qualification score, do
you 'Sir'?" *Touche,* good one, Loren.
"Mr. T'boc, get the Ensign set up in blacks and gear. He'll be joining us." ordered
J.C.
"Aye, Lt. Allard."
"Loren, how quick can you get rid of your pretty blue uniform," said J.C.
[SNIP]
Darkness. Beyond darkness. Alex and Mr. Karr's squad were beamed into the freighter's
bridge, while J.C. and T'boc's squad with the addition of their versatile CNS were beamed
into Engineering.
J.C. made a quick sweep of the area, grateful for the light mounted upon
his rifle. Chilling coldness of the freighter was evident as he could see their breath
vapors in the light. Eight including himself, all accounted for. Reaching on the side of
his comm set, J.C. keyed the transmit and diagnostic toggles twice in rapid unison.
Jerran would be looking for this signal, which to anyone else would appear as 'space noise'.
Once back aboard the FEYNMAN, he would thank Bat for that little trick he had shared.
Cold, dark, and J.C. covered his mouth, as did a few others. The freighter, with
age in excess of fifty years or more, had evidently not been cleaned or aired out since
it's construction. PO/3 O'Rorke nearly lost his breakfast, but regained himself. A quick
look at Loren told he was not much better shape. Giving the signal to fan out, the group
broke off into pairs. J.C. motioned for Loren to stick with him.
Engineering was dead, in both power and crew, as many bodies, or remnants of
such lay sparsely about here and there. Extensive damage from exploding consoles
and falling structural pieces were the warrantors of death. Of the three freighters
in the convoy, one had succumbed to the battle, and the second had been a victim of it's
own toxic cargo. Not exactly the outcome Captain Zane had planned, but then when
did plans ever develop properly. This one, the lead ship, was the only one left to board.
Briefly startled at Alex Tamarov's voice in his ear, J.C. switched to channel 2.
"Sir, No resistance at all. Actually only three survivors, and none are conscious
or in condition to offer any resistance. They do need medical attention though."
said the ACSO.
"As far as the bridge, 90% destroyed. No power. Perhaps if we had, we could access the
computer, if this junk heap even has one." J.C. agreed, expecting a portion of the hull
to simply fall off any minute.
"Acknowledged. Send two men back to the NOGURA with the wounded, and advance toward
engineering. We'll proceed towards you, and meet." ordered J.C.
"Aye sir, Tamarov out." J.C. motioned for Loren to follow. Through engineering, the
came to an access ladder leading down. It took both men to force the manual override
lever down to release the hatch. Gazing into the eyes of his friend, J.C. held his
own rifle, unaware his knuckles were turning white.
"I'll go down first. Shoot ANYTHING that moves, Ensign." J.C. ordered with a forced
calm. Loren did need to be a telepath or esper to know how J.C. felt, as he shared
the same uneasiness. Loren aimed his rifle-light beam down the hatch ladder, but
revealed nothing but continued blackness of damp darkness. J.C. tuned to back down
the ladder, rifle clutched tightly in his left hand.
Step after cautious and gradual step, J.C. descended. After a dozen or so,
he looked down, and from the powerful beam of Loren's light, could still see nothing
more than the blackness. Looking up, Loren shrugged.
Continuing on, the ability to breath 'good air' was disappearing as he made
his descent. He had climbed down nearly fifteen meters. "Loren, I don't think this
leads anywhere. We may..." but the sentence never concluded. The hand that had
grabbed hold of his ankle in the same instant all color drained from the CSO's face.
Clutching for dear life to the ladder rungs with his right hand, J.C. pivoted and
brought the rifle to bear on more than a dozen pairs of eyes.
"LOREN, HOLD YOUR FIRE", he blurted out, though knew not what forced had allowed
him to think. Shining his light, they saw their faces matched their forms, ragged,
dirty, and probably undernourished.
Submitted,
Mike Dailey
splatter2@qtm.net
<nowiki>********
* NRPG *
********</nowiki>
Hello all. Well, our battle already strayed us a bit from the original plan,
so I (of course) took another little detour. <G> Joseph, enjoy interrogating the
three 'guests' Alex will have beamed over. I'm sure Jerran is as good an inquisitor
as a pilot? Hmmm. (How many light do you see?? ....)
Kevin - Well, you wanted to come along, so here you are. Hope you don't shoot J.C.
accidentally <BG> Develop the dozen+ 'survivors' as you wish... refugees? or
perhaps slave laborers? Also, order my troops about as you wish. You're an officer
and all are NCO's or below.
Team 1 - You guys are quiet??? Melanie, I wondered what Meleah was up too..<G>
FEYNMAN - Talk about surprises from nowhere! I thought she was recaptured and
sent back to some prison - rehab colony???
Cheers All!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br>
* Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard CSO - USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG          *<br>
* Lt. (Dr.) D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - OPS/20 - USS E. BLACKWELL SILVER FLEET *<br>
* Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny CNS - USS BURKE GREEN FLEET                    *<br>
* Lcdr. Ion Steiner L.C. - SFDOC TEAM ALPHA-1 SFDOC                    *<br>
* Codr. Johan Baurr - COMSFDOC "All I ask is a tall ship..."            *<br>
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: NRPG: "If you were on a desert island"</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 2-20-1997</h4>
>NRPG:
>
>I considered crashing into the moon, but that's been done before :)
Now, not really. It was an asteroid, and if you think about it the asteroid
was moving. So therefore the asteroid crashed into us. If it were not for
Krysa's skill the Nogura I and all occupants would be dead....
Kristen-> who will never admit it might have been Krysa's fault!<br>
<nowiki>------------------------------------</nowiki><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: Husnock Mining Facility</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Jason Bostjancic 2-20-1997</h4>
SD: 90220<br>
MD: Whenever we officially beamed down<br>
Scene: Husnock Mining Facility<br>
As the light from the transporter faded, Tarrant and the rest of the
away team had a sinking feeling in thier stomach's. Not because
there was nothing there of intrest, but because the gravity was
turned off, leaving only the limited moon's gravity to hold them down.
There was only one large room that made up this level of the facility.
Much of the equipment appeared to be attached to the ceiling and
floors facing inward, though there was no sign of power or recent use.
Cdr Maril float-bounced, and turned to Tarrant, he looked quite
uncomfortable. "Perran without direction."
The partial klingon pulled out his tricorder and started, "Scanning...
hmm, It's an interresting setup. It seems that this facitity was meant
to rotate, which increases gravity"
"And the axis looks like some large drill bit that's burrowed into
the moon itself." added Chief Bate. She was a recent addition
to the Engineering team who looked to have promise.
She looked a bit confused, "Why would the Husnock's use
such an archaic method to drill?"
"Perhaps the element they're looking for is too volatile for
energy beam extraction." It was one possible answer, "but
right now we need to get power and find our arrow."
The teams 'bounced' to designated sections to try and determine
anything and everything they could. Tarrant and Maril meanwhile
looked at a large cylidrical device that went through the center
of the building.
"Myra around the axis of Chapar?" asked Maril.
"I'm not sure. Most of the Husnock technology turned itself
off or blew a backup relay that caused shutdown when thier
people were ... " Tarrant tried to find the right word but failed.
"Anyway, we should be able to reset the system and it'll come
back on line."
Maril pointed towards a 'charred' looking cuplink.
Opening his kit, Tarrant pulled out his micro-welder and set
about bypassing the link.
"Look out people, I thing we might have movement..." announced.
Tarrant after a few minutes.
Soon after, the room and building started to rotate. As the speed
slowly increased so did the lighting brightness. Eventually everything
was sent 'to the walls', as the sideways gravity set in. As was usual
with the Husnock, once everything was operating it ran perfectly.
The gravity was not too much to force thier bodies to the floor/side,
but was enough to put them solidly on thier feet. Then, all of a sudden,
the computers lit up as if everything was immediately turned on
at once.
"Tarrant to Meleah..."
There was no reply.
<NRPG>
Well, now we need to find our arrow to the next spot.
AS for the building... I really like that ride at the fair's called the
Gravitron, and that's kind of what I was thinking of, but not as
extreme. With the moons diminished gravity as it is I think this
might work.
Although it'll be a little disconcerting lookin up and seeing
the rest of the room :p
Respectfully,<br>
Jason<br>
Commander Tirrin Vorak - XO - USS BURKE<br>
Lieutenant Tarrant L. Koreth - CEO - USS FEYNMAN<br>
Potest esse nur unus
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Always Watch Your Back...</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 2-21-1997</h4>
SD 90221.0120(GMT)<br>
MD 5.0030<br>
ST318 Mining Installation: Third Level: Corridor<br>
Maril and his team of seven officers scanned
the corridor they were traveling
along, first for signs of life, then for other
pieces of information.
"The corridor walls appear to be mostly
composed of multi-layered ferric
compounds and several unknown polymers," CWO4
Nicodemus reported.
"Wait, there appears to be a door in this section
of the wall." He cleared away a
thick layer of dust as Maril stepped forward.
"Can we open it?" Maril asked, his voice
unintentionally raising a bit in hope
that they might find something.
"It is possible," an engineering officer
said. "Most of the base's systems are
probably offline, but if we provide a constant
pulse to activate whatever kind of
sensor they use, we might be able to activate the
door-opening sensor here."
Maril nodded. "Make it so."
The engineering officer pointed his tricorder
at the door and seemed to use
some sort of electromagnetic pulse. After a few
moments of waiting, the door
opened, quite surprisingly, like a door on a
Federation starship.
Maril put up his hand to stop anyone from
entering the room. "Wait a
moment. We are still at a strange base, and we do
not know how the systems
work. Half of you stay out here and continue to
scan the hallway. The other
half, come with me."
The officers obeyed and the four of them
walked into the room.
Maril looked around. There were tables and
utensils with plates. Off in
another corner there was some sort of receptacle,
apparently for food. It was
amazing. Almost everything was exactly like it
must have been when all the
Husnock died.
"This appears to be a mess hall," PO/1
Franklin observed.
"Yes," Maril answered, almost in awe of it.
"We'll walk around the room to
search for clues to where a Husnock base might be,
and then we'll leave. Try
not to disturb anything unnecessarily." They
silently walked through the room,
trying to find something of value to their search.
Finally, they exited, with not
much more information, but a new sense of the
Husnock people.
"The army of Bilmaelel. Let us continue,"
Maril ordered calmly and quietly.
They kept on walking down the hallway. Most
of the rooms along the way
were entered and visually searched for clues.
After another hour, they had
moved to a different section of the base.
Suddenly, along one wall, they found a door
that was locked in the open
position. Maril quickly drew the team back.
"We do not know what is in there, or why the
door is open. Everyone, have
your phaser ready. You four, stay out here and
watch the hallway," Maril
ordered, gesturing towards four of the officers in
the group during the lasat
sentence. He tapped his communicator. "Maril to
Shuttlecraft 'Cochrane'. I
want you to have a lock on all our signals and be
able to pull us out of here at
my command."
There was no response.
"'Cochrane', are you there?"
Still, there was no response.
"Well, I think we'll have to be extremely
careful. Everyone, watch your
back." As he said that, he stepped into the room,
motioning for three other
officers to come with him.
Quickly, they searched the room. The room
had been ransacked and many
objects were on the floor, but no one remained in
the room, which appeared to
be an officer's quarters.
"Suggestions on what happened here?" Maril
said after they had regrouped
in the hallway.
"It is possible that someone did this just
before all the Husnock died," an
engineering officer said with not much confidence.
"Unlikely," MCPO Pomeroy said, shaking his
head mournfully, "I scanned the
phaser burns made in that room. They were made by
a Federation issue rifle."
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer, USS Feynman,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
NRPG:
Well, I wonder who did this. New Grey Fleet ships
angry for revenge (we did
destroy or capture all of the original four,
correct?)? Pirates who have acquired
Federation weapons? Xanthadi who were able to get
Federation rifles? I don't
know. :)
I'm noticing some interesting parallels between
this mission and the mission of
the Great Shuttle Accident. One: an away team led
by the FO of the ship is
exploring a base built by an extinct civilization.
Two: a shuttle with the FCO
and the CNS heads towards an asteroid. The
shuttle is then destroyed. Three:
there are two away teams once again. Of course,
the next parallel would be for
the Feynman to lose most of their primary systems
so that they can't contact
either away team. :)
BTW, I've received two requests for the posts
which document the Great
Shuttle Accident. Anyone else want them? <g>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Xanthandi, Husnock, and Kzin... Oh my!</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 2-23-1997</h4>
SD - 90223.0030<br>
MD - 4.1900<br>
SCENE - Bridge of Xanthandi freighter<br>
<I>
> Looking around at his crew members, Jerran added, "I think we should find
> out just what this ship is capable of before we do develop a problem with
> our cargo."<br>
</I>
"Mr. Allard," Jerran called from the seat formerly occupied by the Xanthandi
Commander, "Try to determine this ship's previous heading." J.C. was standing
behind Loren, while the CNS did his 'Merrick' performance.
"Aye, Sir." He Maneuvering towards the Ops station, J.C. stepped over a few
piles of rubble and broken chunks of machinery that had been working systems
in better days. The CSO still was amazed that this ship was holding itself
together. Glancing at the NAV console, the ship's former helmsman had been
so kind as to leave the course still entered.
"Lt. Jerran, course is 177 mark 35," said J.C. He looked at Jerran and then
Landers,
"Straight for the Hoji system,?" asked Loren.
"Right, 'Marrick'." retorted J.C. Perhaps Mr. Landers' acting abilities could
come in useful in the future.
"Mr. Landers, ship's status?" asked Jerran. Loren apparently found the right
mode to access internal sensors, after a few wrong attempts.
"SIF down to 81%, sheilds at 30%, looks like this ship was due for a maintenance
check a few thousand light-years ago." reported the CNS.
"Not good, but sufficient for now. Mr. Allard, same course, ahead full impulse."
ordered Captain Jerran.
"Aye Sir. I hope the entire Engineering Deck doesn't fall off." J.C. coaxed the
intermix up, and slid the toggle bars up to 100%. He could see Loren trying not
to laugh too much.
"We shall have to trust our skills to hold our ship together, gentlemen." said
Jerran.
Submitted,
Mike Dailey
splatter2@qtm.net
<nowiki>********
* NRPG *
********</nowiki>
Hello all. Just a quick one to keep moving. Joseph, you're up. Take us where
you wish. Kevin, not sure what J.C. hates more 7-ft tall cats or Husnock 'bugs'... <BG>
Cheers!
Mike
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br>
* Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard CSO - USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG                  *<br>
* Lt. (Dr.) D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - OPS/20 - USS E. BLACKWELL [LOST] SILVER FLEET  *<br>
* Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny CNS - USS BURKE GREEN FLEET                            *<br>
* Lcdr. Ion Steiner L.C. - SFDOC TEAM ALPHA-1 SFDOC                            *<br>
* Codr. Johan Baurr - COMSFDOC "All I ask is a tall ship..."                    *<br>
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: The Truth About Scents and Wondering Ensigns</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 2-28-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90228.1400<br>
Scene: Jenn's Quarters<br>
MD: 5.0230<br>
The young ensign moved to the Ops Officer's computer terminal. She sat
down quickly, "Computer, what is the FEYNMAN's current mission."
"Unable to comply, this terminal is under security lock."
"Damn!" she muttered. "What about the location of the Trader-Monk beamed in
earlier."
"Unable to comply, this terminal is under security lock."
She frowned. Should she dare leaving and trying to find another terminal
that might work for her? What if she ran into Sparky? Sitting her certainly
wasn't helping. She did not like being under Zane's control again. Even if
he didn't know who she was.
Having made her decision, she walked to the door and nearly walked right
into it. "Computer, open door."
"Unable to comply, these quarters are under security lock."
She groaned.
<Is there something we can do for you Ens. Wilson.> a voice said.
"Yes, you can let me out of here. Why am I a prisoner." She said irritated.
<It's for your own protection. Orders of both the second officer and the
Captain.>
Dee turned away from the door in frustration, looking around the room.
There had to be another way out of here.
Scene: Bridge
Krysa was still sitting at Ops, scanning for wandering raiders that might
interfere in the Away Team's mission, when Dr. Glin'kharr stepped onto the
bridge. She looked up at him in surprise, as it was very rare to find him
there. "Doctor? Is there a problem?" Zane asked.
The Doctor growled, "That's understatement. Can I see you in your ready
room, Captain." He turned to Krysa, "I think you should hear this as well,
Commander. This will only take a minute."
Krysa looked at Zane who nodded. She stood and turned the Ops over to a
young Ensign while her AOps move to take the center seat. She followed the
two officers toward the Captain's ready room.
Zane moved to his chair and took a seat while turning his eyes on the
albino CMO.
Glin'kharr didn't wait to blurt out his news. "Dee is here."
Krysa froze at the name. Her eyes met Zane's as he glowered over the CMO's
words. "Ens. MarDEE Wilson." He said quietly.
Glin'kharr nodded.
"So now what do we do?" Krysa asked, still a bit stunned. Though by now she
should know better.
Regards,<br>
Lt. Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
OPS/2O, USS YORKTOWN<br>
***<br>
NRPG: Well, it's not the greatest, but it's out and know Zane and Krysa
know Dee's here. Does she get out of Krysa's quarters .. I don't know ..
depends on if the security measures were good enough .. I suspect between
Krysa and Zane they probably were, but everyone can make a mistake :}
Sorry it took so long to get out .. Hopefully in about 6 weeks I'll be less
likely to be moaning about how yucky I feel and you won't have to wait so
long for a post :}
Kristen<br>
<nowiki>*************************************************************</nowiki><br>
.^. Kristen Gant<br>
.-----' `-----. (AKA: Lt. Krysa Jenn, Ops/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
| [##' `##] | Cmdr. Ainese Kev, XO, USS YORKTOWN<br>
`---' __ `---' Capt. Gabriel Faison, CO, USS FARADAY<br>
| .-' `. | Dr. Janna Swansen, CMO, USS PHOENIX<br>
|' `| Ens. Roana Shan, CNS, USS SABRE<br>
Cmdr. Y'lonna Dyvian, XO, USS VICTORY<br>
Lt. Faith Donaven, Inst. (Camp Venture)<br>
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/Kris/kris.htm<br>
-<br>
Kristen & Scott Gant<br>
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/gant.htm<br>
MDailey
5,483

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