StarFleet Bureau of Information

USS Feynman MAY 1997: Difference between revisions

Page Discussion

USS Feynman MAY 1997 (view source)

Revision as of 18:38, 15 December 2024

126,008 bytes added ,  15 December 2024
m
no edit summary
No edit summary
mNo edit summary
 
(45 intermediate revisions by the same user not shown)
Line 4: Line 4:
<div style="float:right; margin-top: 5px; padding-right: 200px;">[[Image:FEYNMAN PATCH DRAFT2.png|450px|FEYNMAN Shoulder Patch|center]]</div>
<div style="float:right; margin-top: 5px; 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 MAY 1997 POSTS: '''TBD'''</font>
<font style="font-size: large; font-stretch: expanded; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">TOTAL MAY 1997 POSTS: 31</font>
{{Template:USS_FEYNMAN_POST_ARCHIVES}}
{{Template:USS_FEYNMAN_POST_ARCHIVES}}
<br>
<br>
Line 577: Line 577:
David- Welcome to our little group!
David- Welcome to our little group!


<nowiki>***************************************************************************<br>
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
*"The computer allows one to make mistakes faster than any other invention*<br>
="The computer allows one to make mistakes faster than any other invention=<br>
*aside from possibly handguns and Tequila."                              *<br>
+aside from possibly handguns and Tequila."                              +<br>
*--Mitch Ratcliffe                                                        *<br>
=--Mitch Ratcliffe                                                        =<br>
***************************************************************************<br></nowiki>
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: The 5¢ Tour</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 5-9-1997</h4>
 
SD 90509.1404 CDT/1904 GMT<br>
MD ???<br>
Scene: Deck 9 corridor--->Sickbay<br>
 
Dr. Mary Mac moved swiftly down the corridor. She was anxious to see the state
of her sickbay. "Her sickbay" still sounded good to hear. She crossed the
threshold into sickbay. It had all the modern affectations of a starfleet
sickbay. She looked around and was stunned to see that there were no personnel
in sickbay.
 
"Computer, activate the LMH program." Mary said in an irritated tone.
 
"Please state the nature of the medical inquiry" stated the newly-formed Long
Term Medical Hologram. He was the spitting image of his creator, Dr. Lewis
Zimmerman, a holoengineer at the Jupiter Station.
 
"Doctor, why are there no personnel in sickbay?" Mary asked as she turned to
look at the doctor.
 
"There are no medical personnel currently in sickbay. The new medical personnel
are in the main shuttlebay." The Doctor replied.
 
"Computer, deactivate LMH program." Mary said as she turned to go into her
office. A shocked look danced across the LMH's face as he disappeared into the
nothingness from which he came.
 
"Computer, current medical roster as of SD 90509." Mary asked as she dropped
into her chair.
 
[Crew Manifest, Medical Department, Stardate 90509.<br>
Ensign Mary Dana Mackrenseklar, M.D., Chief Medical Officer<br>
Lieutenant Junior Grade Rolf Chavez, Assistant Chief Medical Officer, Alpha<br>
Shift Lieutenant Dana Scully, M.D., Assistant Chief Medical Officer, Beta Shift<br>
Lieutenant Julius Hibbert, M.D., Assistant Chief Medical Officer, Gamma Shift<br>
Ensign Samantha Caine R.N., Nurse, Alpha Shift<br>
Ensign Charly Elizabeth Baltimore R.N., Nurse, Alpha Shift<br>
Chief Petty Officer Mercedes Lackey R.N., Nurse, Beta Shift<br>
Chief Petty Officer Diana Tregarde R.N., Nurse, Beta Shift<br>
Chief Petty Officer Elise Eliot R.N., Nurse, Gamma Shift<br>
Chief Petty Officer Cynthia Swann-Griffin R.N., Nurse, Gamma Shift<br>
Crewman Bruce Wayne, Medical Technician, Alpha Shift<br>
Crewman Richard Grayson, Medical Technician, Beta Shift<br>
Crewman Alfred Pennyworth, Medical Technician, Gamma Shift]<br>
 
"Well, at least they met the starfleet minimum operating roster." Mary said to
herself.
 
"Computer, have all medical personnel come to Sickbay immediately for a staff
meeting." Mary said
 
[Acknowledged]
 
Mary prepared herself for the meeting. The assignments that had been made ahead
of time seemed okay. She turned to her display, to access her new medical
crew's bios. It was going to be a long day....
 
----
NRPG:
 
All: This is my first post to the Feynman. I noticed on the roster that there
were no MED NPC's. So these are my creations. If other MED NPC exist that I
just don't know about, please let me know and I will fit them in. All of the
names are in-jokes to my favorite books and movies. They come from (in order)
ST:TNG #25 "Grounded", "The X-Files", "The Simpsons", "The Long Kiss Goodnight",
the Diana Tregarde Investigation books, "The First Wives Club", and "Batman".
Bios for the MED NPCs will follow shortly (I hope. Most of them will be short).
I am confused about Kevin's post. I read Melanie's and then Kevin's seemed
incongruent. I'm pretty sure I missed something. Could someone fill me in on
what happened and how we got into the fight...Thanks for making me feel welcome
and I look forward to the mission ahead...
 
Andy: Thanks for the roster and the info you asked for can be found at the end
of this message. It's part of my signature.... :)
 
Kristen: Thanks for the webpage info. It simplifies a lot of things. I only
wished the Hermes had one....
 
Joseph: I hope that Xena comment I made didn't come off as sarcasm. It was
meant as a joke. Sorry! :)
 
Melanie: Go grrl. Dr Mac is a female with a 'tude. The bio tells all....
 
If I have left anyone out, I apologize. My mail server has been down for the
last 12 hours and I am swamped in mail...
<nowiki>--------------</nowiki><br>
 
Respectfully yours,
 
Ensign Mary Mac(krenseklar), M.D.<br>
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.<br>
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet<br>
David Williams<br>
drjekyll@softwareplus.net<br>
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA<br>
 
"When you feel the sunlight fade into the cold night,<br>
You're not alone, I will be here for you,<br>
Somewhere in the night, I 'll shine a light for you,<br>
Somewhere in the night, I'll be standing by, I will be here for you..."<br>
--Michael W. Smith<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: A Hot Bath...</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 5-9-1997</h4>
 
SD 90509.2058 CDT/0100 GMT (90510)<br>
MD: NONE (0.0000)<br>
Scene: Dr. Mac's quarters, Deck 5<br>
 
It had been a long day. The staff meeting went well, but she received some flak
from Dr. Chavez about his assignments. She told him he'd like it or she send
him off this ship to a Starfleet Penal Medical Facility. And she could do it.
With her connections in Starfleet Medical, she could get the worm sent anywhere.
 
She just wanted to forget the onfgneq (scrambled with ROT13) and slip into a hot
bath and read her journals. She threw her lab coat over the back of a chair,
took her glasses off and placed them on the table next to the chair. She took
her high-necked, ankle-length, lavender willow dress off, letting it fall at her
feet. She kicked off her shoes and rubbed her feet. She removed the hip
holster that held her Orion dagger, the thigh holster that held her personal
phaser, and the shin holster that held a small Bajoran knife.
 
She walked into the bathroom, asked the computer to draw her bath. She liked
her bath hot and full of bubbles. She left her hair up so it wouldn't get wet,
and removed her bra and panties. She grabbed a PADD, a glass of berry punch
from the replicator, and slipped into the tub.
 
She called up the Journal of Federation Medicine and laid back and relaxed as
she read the first article on Forensic Pathology. A very interesting article on
some recent grisly murders on Alpha Centauri... Complete with crime scene
footage... Very interesting, indeed....
 
-----
NRPG:
 
All: This is just a piece of fluff, designed to tie up some loose ends, and
prepare myself for my planned RL absence tomorrow. I'm really looking forward
to my small (sniff) vacation. I'll be back by tomorrow night, and I'll post
again on Sunday.
 
Andy: I believe I have everything now, and I feel like one of the crew. Thanks
for everything :) I look forward to the next mission, having read the last one.
The Caitans are close to my own heart. I have a CPO on the Hermes that's
Caitan.. Who could resist a cat-like race? :)
------
 
Respectfully submitted,
 
Ensign Mary Dana Mac(krenseklar), M.D.<br>
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.<br>
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet<br>
David Williams<br>
drjekyll@softwareplus.net<br>
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA<br>
 
"When you feel the sunlight fade into the cold night,<br>
You're not alone, I will be here for you,<br>
Somewhere in the night, I 'll shine a light for you,<br>
Somewhere in the night, I'll be standing by, I will be here for you..."<br>
--Michael W. Smith<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Pre-Mission Stuff</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Melanie Pocknall 5-9-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90509.0653<br>
MD: -1.000<br>
Ten-forward<br>
 
M1C Lianna West walked into 10-forward with a dejected look on her face.
This was to be her last mission. After that, she would graduate, and
goodness knows where she would end up. She had made so many friends on
board the FEYNMAN and she didn't want to leave. Somehow, she made her way
to an unoccupied tabel and sat down.
 
She sat, slumped in her chair, for a few minutes until a vioce roused her
out of her thoughts. "Lee?"
 
Lianna turned and saw M2C India Sommerville, a good friend from the
Academy. "Indy, what are you doing here?"
 
"I've been assigned to the FEYNMAN for this next mission, in Stellar
Cartography."
 
"You're in Science too? That's great!" They hugged each other and then
India sat down opposite Lianna. "I've got to go down and find out where
I'm working for this mission later."
 
"I'll come with you. So, what's it like, being an officer on a starship?"
India asked. She had been envious when Lianna had been accepted for the
program, but had missed her friend terribly.
 
"Great. It'll take ages to fill you in, though, so you'll have to be
patient. But basically, it's fantastic. The crew's great, and the people
in the science department are really helpful.. oh, with the exception of
Ens Loth."
 
"Who's Ens Loth?"
 
Lianna made a face. "He's the second-in-command of the department, and
he's very disagreeable. But the cadets don't have too much to do with him
unless we're on his shift. Nali's really nice, she's the ASCI. You'll
like her." Actually, Lianna was slightly exaggerating about Loth but she
had to make it sound good.
 
"So do you get up on the bridge?" That was what India was interested in.
Although she was majoring in Science, she really wanted to command a ship
someday.
 
"Once you get promoted to Cadet first class, you get to man at least one
shift during the mission, usually the night shift. Nothing usually
happens, though, when you're on the bridge. I'll be going up onto the
bridge a little more during this mission though, in preparation for when I
graduate." Lianna was looking forward to doing more shifts on the bridge.
 
The talking went on for quite a while, and then Lianna decided she'd better
find out what shift she would be doing for the next mission, so the two of
them headed down to Science Lab 3 where Nali was working.
 
"Hi, girls," Nali said in greeting. "Lee, I presume you're here to find
out your timetable."
 
"That's right."
 
Nali stopped what she was doing, and turned her attention to the PADD next
to her. "You'll be working in Lab 7, Beta shift, in Biology, with CWO3 Dai
Pryce. Jazz is the head of that department. Pryce is the new biology
chief. And I presume this is Cadet India Sommerville?"
 
"Yes, sir," India replied.
 
"I'm Lt(jg) Nali Swansen. There's no need to worry about the 'sirs' in the
labs. We only use them for formal introductions, so from now on, call me
Nali." India just nodded, so Nali continued. "You'll be working in Stellar
Cartography with Lt(jg) Stefan Hunter, in Lab 4, Beta shift also. Your
department head is Lt(jg) Kentin Greene."
 
"Understood," India replied. She and Lianna shared a glance. They would
both be working the same shift, which could be quite interesting <G>.
 
"Now, girls, we have to attend the department meeting in a few minutes, so
we'd better get going."
 
The three of them travelled along to Lab 1, where most of the science
department was assembled. Lianna saw a few new faces, especially Vulcan
faces, and wondered who they were.
 
Meleah started the meeting by introducing the new members of the crew,
including the cadets. "We also have a trial department for this mission,
Mathematics & Logic. Ens S'tel will be the head of that department."
 
S'tel, a stolid Vulcan if ever Lianna saw one, nodded his head in
acknowledgement.
 
"We also have a few promotions to make. Mr. Merrick, Mr. Koullan, Chiefs
Crysta, Murphy, Fergusson, Magen, Kramer, Rowan and Gray, please step
forward."
Meleah promoted each of the above in turn, and then announced, "Mr. Merrick
will be in charge of Biological Science in Lab 7, with Lt. Aidonis in
charge of the whole department. Also, Mr. Manning will be in charge of
Social Science in Lab 1."
 
There were various other announcements and then the science department was
dismissed.
 
------------
NRPG:
 
Welcome, David, to the best ship in the fleet! Kristen, just think,
there's another female officer on the ship - yeah!!!
 
Sincerely yours,<br>
Lt. Meleah, Chief Science Officer, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet.<br>
M1C Lianna West, Science cadet, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet.<br>
 
Melanie.<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: NRPG Pre-Mission Stuff</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 5-9-1997</h4>
 
Kris & Scott Gant's profile photo
Kris & Scott Gant
unread,
May 9, 1997, 2:00:00 AM
to
 
>NRPG:
>
>Welcome, David, to the best ship in the fleet! Kristen, just think,
>there's another female officer on the ship - yeah!!!
 
I know :) Isn't it wonderful.. pretty soon, we'll have a ship full of
women.. We just have to plan this right ... <whisper, whisper>
 
Kris -> who would never think of plotting against her Captain :)<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: NRPG Pre-Mission Stuff</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 5-9-1997</h4>
 
> Kris & Scott Gant wrote:<br>
>
> >NRPG:<br>
> ><br>
> >Welcome, David, to the best ship in the fleet! Kristen, just think,<br>
> >there's another female officer on the ship - yeah!!!<br>
>
> I know :) Isn't it wonderful.. pretty soon, we'll have a ship full of<br>
> women.. We just have to plan this right ... <whisper, whisper><br>
>
> Kris -> who would never think of plotting against her Captain :)<br>
 
...TAKE COVER, MEN!! We're being invaded, under fierce attack!!! <BG><br>
 
as always,<br>
Cheers!<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Catching Up</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 5-11-1997</h4>
 
SD:90511.2000<br>
Scene:Ready-Room<br>
 
Zane sprawled out on his comfortable couch and looked over at his
executive officer who had parked himself in the chair to the left.
"So," Maril began, "I take it you were able to corner the admiral."
 
Zane nodded. "Met the Commodore as well. Seemed everything his bio
says he is and little of what Bat made him out to be."
 
"Not a megalomaniac?" Maril asked with a chuckle.
 
"Not in the first five minutes I talked to him. You never know
though. He could be a closet dictator." Zane asnswered with a laugh.
 
"Did the matter of the Task Forces come up."
 
"Actually it did but only to the extent that he assured me it was not
his place to divulge the information."
 
"Which the admiral didn’t do." Maril answered for him.
 
"No, but he will be joining us for the briefing tomorrow morning. Who
is on the scenario rotation?"
 
"Allard. He’s already working on it. I’ll let him know the admiral
will be joining us. 0800 hours?"
 
Zane nodded. "Speaking of Allard I got whiff of some minor incident on
Cait while I was on the EPSILON that concerned some of our senior
officers. Do I want to know anything about it?"
 
"No, suffice to say the matter is cleared up and there should be no
repercussions."
 
"Good. Nice to see your little spy network comes through even with the
crisis at hand."
 
Maril nodded in response before changing the subject. "I was a little
surprised to find Dr. Mac reporting aboard as our knew CMO."
 
Zane gave him a sheepish grin. "I guess my spy network is not as
formidable as yours. She squared away?"
 
"Of course." He replied with an amused air that said he was shocked he
had even been asked. "Already had a staff meeting and shaken them all
up by the sounds of it."
 
"Good. Oh and you also be happy to hear that I was wrong on a second
count. We didn’t pull convoy duty."
 
"Oh."
 
"No, it seems we have a rather important first contact ahead of us."
Zane began to fill him in on what the admiral had told him.
 
<<<NRPG>>>
 
Just a short one…
 
David: One thing I forgot to mention was out pre-mission briefings.
One of our traditions is to hold the briefing in some exotic locale.
Some past examples are inside the Great Pyramid, the Roman Coliseum, and
underwater lair, Mt Selya on Vulcan. The fun is usually in getting to
the actual briefing table where a buffet awaits but once there it is
actually business…but hey we gotta have some fun. So, this time Mike
Dailey is setting the scene so after he does enjoy!
 
As Zane mentioned the briefing will be at 0800 which will also begin the
mission clock at day 1.
 
Respectfully,<br>
Andy<br>
<nowiki>___________________________________________________________</nowiki><br>
-Captain Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-Commodore Robert Steele, Commanding TF ZINDERNEUF<br>
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence, BLUE Fleet<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: New Faces, New Places PART 1</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 5-11-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90511.1330<br>
MD: -2.1830<br>
SCENE - Deck 9, Sickbay<br>
(NOTE: Starting out a bit of a backpost)<br>
 
Tarrant Koreth, Loren Landers, and J.C. Allard materialized home once
again from what would be referred to by some as 'the Great Caitian Expedition',
though certain others had even more colourful words to describe their most
recent shore-leave excursion. Luck had been with the trio, as the 'fleet Provost
Marshal on Cait, LCDR. Vance Seelman had been in an agreeable mood. In addition,
the Marines seemed to have abusive past histories, which was in the favour of
the FEYNMAN trio. Seelman had let them go, thankfully without a word to anyone.
Before the leave port, J.C. would send his compliments, along with a bottle of
Centaurian brandy dated 2270. It had cost him quite a few bars of latinum, but
a small price to pay for having avoided the brig. If Zane were to be called
again to 'bail' anyone out, the brig would no doubt become his new assignment.
 
Tarrant and Loren left for their separate ways, and a very sore J.C. went
to catch the next lift to sickbay. The Marine MP's down on Cait had left
their 'impressions' on the trio, but J.C. have infuriated the Marine Master
Sergeant, and had the respective black-and-blue marks to show for it.
 
The lift deposited the CSO onto deck 9, and as he made his way through
the corridors, greeted the various Medstaff, who by now most had become
accustomed to seeing the Security Chief after shore leave. Stepping into the main
sickbay room, J.C. noticed Dr. T'del tending to another patient. *Perhaps I'll
come back later,* He turned to leave, when the form of the LMH and temporary
CMO materialized in the entranceway before him.
 
"Please state the nature of the emergency," the slender hologram with a Britt
accent said blankly.
 
"We'll, there IS no emergency..." started J.C.
 
"Very well," replied the LMH, and began to fade.
 
"Wait!" shouted J.C. "I need a doctor." The holo-CMO returned in full resolution.
 
"Then there is an emergency?" asked the HCMO.
 
"I have a few scrapes and bruises I need tended to," said J.C., brushing his hand
over his black eye.
 
"All emergency use and activities of the LMH are recorded in both the Ship's and
Medical Division logs." said the HCMO. "All other medical services may be
performed by current Medical staff." J.C. winced slightly. He had wanted to avoid
any mention of this in the logs, remembering the grueling hour he had spent on the
receiving end of Mr. Maril's infamous lectures. This guy was getting on J.C.'s nerves,
and suddenly he found himself missing Glin'khar's rough bedside manner. T'del
finished with his patient and strode over to inquire J.C. predicament.
 
"Back from shore leave again, Lt. Allard?" asked the ACMO. T'del reached for his
tricorder from his with jacket pocket and began reading J.C.
 
"Yes Sir. I haven't had much luck with THIS." J.C. gestured to the LMH Doctor.
T'del turned to the LMH,
 
"End program." ordered the aCMO. "I may have been replaced by a hologram as
temporary CMO, but how many people in the 'fleet can 'turn off' their Department
Heads?" the two shared a laugh as T'del tended to J.C.'s scrapes and black eye.
 
[SNIP] -1.1420
Deck 15 - Security Office
 
J.C. shoved the mountainous stack of report PADDs away from him. Closing
his eyes, the CSO eagerly wished them into nothingness. Moments later, he reopened
his eyes and released a hearty sigh as the stack remained as unmoved a great boulder
on top of his desk. *If I start now and finish them now,* thought J.C. *I won't
have to spend the entire next mission buried in reports.*
 
He sifted and sorted through the PADDs, arranging them on order of priority...
Armoury inventory, squad reviews, shift logs, duty logs, and Starfleet wants a report
on the MK-VI sidearm emitter upgrade last month! *I never realized how valuable as
efficient Department Assistant can be.* gone only three days, and already J.C. missed
his friend and ACSO Alex Tamarov.
 
[SNIP] -1.1730
 
Slumped over his desk, head quite uncomfortably resting on his console, Captain
Justin Christopher Michael Allard dreamed wonderful dreams of a life that for now was
only just a dream. And as dreams go, it was shattered at the blaring sound of the
comm signal tweedle-beeping in his ear. Reality seized J.C. from the world of
imagination and plunged him back into the real world.
 
"Transporter room 2 to Lt. Allard." Reality, such as it was at that moment, returned
slowly and the fuzziness began to clear. J.C.'s hand tenderly rubbed his sore neck,
the price he paid for sleeping on his desk. His other hand somehow found the comm
toggle on his console,
 
"Allard here." he mumbled.
 
"CPO Tenre reporting, Sir." said the Transporter Chief. "I have a new transfer officer
from Epsilon for you Sir. Probably the last one." added Tenre. With EPSILON closing
down... suddenly the words sunk in...
 
"AN OFFICER??" J.C. spoke quietly. When they had put into port, J.C. filed his request
for a new ACSO after Alex Tamarov departed. He had not expected a replacement until
they returned next time around, let alone another commissioned officer. J.C. didn't
realize he had spoken aloud until Tenre replied,
 
"Yes Sir. Orders are verified. Shall I send him to the QM or directly to you, Sir?"
inquired Tenre. J.C. considered, *when I took over this department I had six
squads of NCO's and enlisted people... now I get another officer! Things ARE
looking up.*
 
"Mr. Tenre, send him to the QM to get settled in." J.C. paused and flipped over his
wrist to glance at his chrono... "Have him report to me at 1900 hrs," ordered J.C.
 
"Aye aye, Sir. Tenre out." The caller clicked quiet and J.C. mind though of SCPO
Alex Tamarov, who by now should be almost to Starbase ALPHA where he would begin
his Officer's Candidate Shcool sometime next week. His former ACSO and friend left
behind his silver and black SCPO pips, and would in two years would emerge sporting
a gleaming new Ensigns pip. *It will be hard breaking in a new department assistant.
I'll have to try no to judge the new fellow against his predecessor...*
 
[SNIP] -1.1858
 
The door to J.C.'s office tweedle-beeped. J.C. checked the time, and knew it
must be the new transfer. Unconsciously, he straightened his uniform, and then
laughed to himself as he became aware of what he was doing. *I'm acting like a
green Academy graduate reporting to Old Man Crowell,* though J.C. *Relax J.C.,
you're on the OTHER side of the desk for once.*
 
"Enter," ordered J.C. He tried to apply a gruff, somber scowl resplendent of their
own CINCSILVER Bear, half-heartedly succeeding. The door slid open to emit the FEYNMAN's
new ACSO. Perhaps a few cm. taller than J.C., the lean fair haired Ensign bounded in
and came to attention, his Academy freshness overwhelming. *I was NEVER like this.*
Crisp and almost gleaming, if one's appearance could be regarded as such.
 
The newcomer stole a short glance at his commander, but shot his look straight
forward as their eyes met.
 
"Sair! Ensign Rory T. Heywood reportin' per me orders, Sair." His accent, from one of
the area in the British Union, the exact dialect J.C. wasn't sure of. His words were
spoken softly, yet forcefully. Combined with the accent, reminded J.C. of one of his
Academy instructor's.
 
"Stand easy, Mr. Heywood." said J.C. "I'm Lt. J.C. Allard, Chief Security Officer."
J.C. stood and offered his hand, which Rory shook with a warm but tight grip. "Welcome
aboard the FEYNMAN" said J.C. as he sat back down again. Rory relaxed and proffed his
orders PADD which J.C. retrieved and inspected. *Signed by CDOR Steele? Who the hell..
J.C. wondered where the 'Bear' had wandered off too.*
 
"Thank ye, Sair. It's quite good ta be here finally. Thot station over there's a
bloody whirlwind of chaos, Sair." J.C. laughed, picturing the Ensign caught in
the middle of EPSILON's evacuation. He skimmed over Heywood's service record
briefly. Excellent grades, just missed honours by a few points (they had something
in common already). Top-rated marksman, *have to set him up against Loren* Hmm,
commendation for original thinking while at ALB... by Commander Novodan!
 
"Mr. Heywood, I see Cdr. Novodan thinks highly of you. He was one of my favourite
Instructors, also." said J.C.
 
"Aye, my squad learned a lot more than sittin hours on end listing to the ramblins
of some yuppie..." Rory caught himself, unsure if he was being too outspoken with
his new CO.
 
"Forgive my outburst, Sair." J.C. waved it away,
 
"I understand, Mr. Heywood. Everyone has instructors who put them to sleep." J.C.
flipped to the personal background section of his record.
 
"You're from Wexford, Ireland?" asked J.C.
 
"Aye. Me Da's been a Jerrie there all my life, and mom's a teacher at a school
down in Cromwell." said Rory. Everything looked well, scores, comments,
psyche evals. J.C. closed the file, and returned the PADD to Rory. Reaching over
to his console, J.C. called up his log and entered in Rory's orders, officially
making him part of the FEYNMAN crew and his security staff. J.C. stood,
 
"Ensign, feel free to familiarize yourself..." he stopped, as an idea came into his
head.
 
"Actually, I have a little project, if you're interested." said J.C. Rory's eyes
widened a bit, not expecting his first assignment so soon.
 
"Very good, Sair! Where do we start?" Rory was all excited, * I know I was never
THAT green,* thought J.C.
 
"Easy, Mr. Heywood." J.C. patted the ACSO's shoulder and turned him as they walked
out of J.C. office and the Security section. "First you stop and change into your
duty uniform, then meet me on holodeck 2." said J.C.
 
"Holodeck 2, sair?" asked Rory, but his fresh Academy discipline kicked in promptly,
 
"Sorry Lt., orders received and understood, Sair." J.C. chuckled a bit,
 
"Mr. Heywood, I'm you CO, not your barracks Sergeant. Ship duty is not nearly as
gruelling as Academy life. Go change and report to holodeck 2" J.C. paused,
considering how much further to go. *let him discover the in and outs of FEYNMAN
life on his own, like I did,* decided J.C.
 
"We have a tradition aboard the FEYNMAN, and considering your background, you'll
be perfect to help me." said J.C. This was going to work great...
 
"Aye aye, Sair. I've even got a few ideas for the watch roster and patrol coverage."
J.C. nodded,
 
"Um, o.k. We'll go over them later." Rory bounded off. *We'll, MAYBE this will work
great.* and headed off to holodeck 2.
 
submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
splatter2@qtm.net<br>
 
 
<nowiki>********
* NRPG *
********</nowiki><br>
 
Greeting all. Meet my new ACSO. Actually you'll meet him at the briefing, yes I
know we usually don't bring our Department head assistants, but there's a first time
for everything! Forgive the post (and me<G>)for being a bit long, but I had a lot
I wanted to get out. And actually, this os only part 1! Stay tuned for more,
don't touch that dial....
 
Cheers!<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
 
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
= Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard CSO USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG =<br>
+ Lt. [Dr.] D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - UNASSIGNED SILVER FLEET    +<br>
= Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny CNS USS BURKE GREEN FLEET          =<br>
+ Lcdr. Ion Steiner L.C. SFDITF TEAM ALPHA-1 SFDITF        +<br>
= Capt. Johan Bauer COMSFDITF "All I ask is a tall ship..." =<br>
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: New Faces, New Places PART 2</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 5-14-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90511.1930<br>
MD: 0.0700<br>
SCENE: J.C.'s quarters - Deck 5<br>
<Ship's time is 0700 hrs.><br>
 
The computer's voice thundered throughout the CSO's quarters,
instantly awakening him from more vivid and pleasant dreams. J.C.
and the new aCSO had been up until 1 am in the holodeck control room
going over ever single detail of the program, sometimes twice.
Holodeck programming was not J.C.'s best venture in his Academy days,
as old Commander Hobson had constantly nagged him when he botched a
perspective matrix or jumbled a imaging subroutine. These days, sidearm
qualifications and tactical drills for his troops were the main programs
he ran, and those seldom needed changing. Luckily J.C.'s creativity
combined with Rory's fresh knowledge from the Academy (who also studied
Holoprogramming under Hobson) made the job far less difficult than J.C.
had expected.
 
J.C. bounded from his bed, despite having only 6 hours sleep. Following a
quick jump in the shower, J.C. went over to the materials replicator and keyed
in the program from the ship's library, the same program he sent to all of the
replicators in the senior officers quarters. Slowly his 'new' uniform fizzled
into being, including all of the proper accessories. Grabbing the handfull of
things, J.C. excitedly changed into the gear, then tried the look in the
bedroom mirror, checking to see each piece was perfect, in it's proper place
and not missing anything.
 
The calf-high black boots were shined to a mirror's perfection, not a dull
spot on them. The soft cotton breeches were only slightly less comfortable than
standard fleet pants. J.C. stretched his arms, the fit of the white long sleeved
dress shirt was a perfect fit, not near as tight around the neck as a standard
fleet dress uniform. The black leather belt strap fit naturally around his left
shoulder, and J.C. slid it into place so that the golden engraved crest of the
Royal Navy attached to the center of the belt was square in the middle of his torso.
Next he picked up the dark blue frock with white striping running along the lapel.
The shoulders had but one braid, as the sleeve cuffs were encircled with one strip
each. The overcoat was heavy, but a necessary for protection from the elements of
the high seas and mother natures wrath. The matching hat fit snugly upon his head,
also trimmed in white striping, with the crest matching that on his belt strap.
The finishing touch, J.C. picked up his officers' sword and clasp it to the
snap on the belt strap. He drew the sword, inspecting the edge, sharp as that
of a second Leftenant some seven centuries past. Satisfied to the uniforms
perfection, J.C. turned to leave but caught hismelf. He stopped by the console on
his desk and typed a quick note.
 
<nowiki>=============================================</nowiki><br>
TO: Senior Staff<br>
From: Ltjg. J.C. Allard<br>
RE: Briefing<br>
 
By order of the Captain, the briefing will be held at
0800 in holodeck 2. Use program #JCA-0160 to obtain the proper
'uniform' from your material replicator. Also, there will be a
scroll outside of the holodeck for each of you. These scrolls
contain your orders. Please present these to the Port Captain,
as you will not be allowed aboard without them.
 
Respectfully,<br>
Ltjg. J.C. Allard, CSO<br>
<nowiki>=============================================</nowiki><br>
 
J.C. stabbed the send key, and retrieved the scrolls from
ontop his desk. They had taken almost an hour to perfect, but it
was well worth it.
 
"Sair, I was at Portsmouth just over a year ago for me leave. Da took me older
brother and meself down for a few days." Rory swept the view with his hand,
 
"It was NOTHING like this." *Well, if we can please a green Ensign...
 
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
= Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard CSO USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG =<br>
+ Lt. [Dr.] D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - UNASSIGNED SILVER FLEET    +<br>
= Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny CNS USS BURKE GREEN FLEET          =<br>
+ Lcdr. Ion Steiner L.C. SFDITF TEAM ALPHA-1 SFDITF        +<br>
= Capt. Johan Bauer COMSFDITF "All I ask is a tall ship..." =<br>
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: New Faces, New Places CONCLUSION</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 5-14-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90514.2230<br>
MD: -1.0730<br>
SCENE: Holodeck 2<br>
 
J.C. and Rory paused outside of the Holodeck, admiring each others new
uniform.
 
"Sair, I believe you're the likeness o' his Lordship Admiral Nelson himself!"
Heywood beamed with a smile.
 
"Thanks for the compliment." said J.C. He noticed Rory's hat a bit crooked,
and reached over to adjust it. "There you are, fit for a Flagship!"
 
"Very good, Sair." replied the aCSO. Picking two scrolls out from his pile,
J.C. lay the remaining ones carefully beside the holodeck doors. Handing one
to Rory, they both opened them...
 
<nowiki>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</nowiki><br>
On this date of 22 December 1787, by the Grace of His Majesty,<br>
King George III, and by the order of the Lords of the Admiralty,<br>
you are hereby ordered to take proper post upon the maiden voyage<br>
of the Royal Navy Frigate, H.M.S. FEYNMAN.<br>
 
The FEYNMAN shall proceed will all do course and speed around the<br>
Channel and up to Southampton. Once ported there, you will surrender<br>
the ship to the permanent crew.<br>
 
Present these sailing orders to the Port Captain at Portsmouth harbour.<br>
Once acknowledged, the Port Captain will see you transport to your vessel.<br>
 
Good luck on your journey<br>
and godspeed.<br>
 
Sir Josehp O. Banks,<br>
Adjutant and Advisor<br>
Lords of the Admiralty<br>
<nowiki>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</nowiki><br>
 
"Looks quite authentic, Sir." said Rory as he rolled his up and
tucked it inside of his jacket.
 
"Well, shall we?" said J.C. It wasn't really a question... he was
bursting with anticipation and excitement. *Now I DO feel like
a giddy raw Cadet, but I love it!* Tapping the panel, the doors clanked
open to a cobblestone street somewhere in downtown Portsmouth, only
shy of seven hundred years past. They moved forward to allow the doors
to clank shut behind them, forming the image of the road leading off to
the horizon. The harbour's business day was just beginning to stir,
with peddlers and shoppers popping about in shops and stands.
 
"Sair, I was at Portsmouth just over a year ago for me leave. Da took me older
brother and meself down for a few days." Rory swept the view with his hand,
 
"It was NOTHING like this." *Well, if we can please a green Ensign, thought J.C.
A light snow was falling, a few flakes landed on their jackets. After a few
seconds, they melted away like real snow. J.C. hated cold weather, so they
included the snow in an imaging subroutine (with Rory's help) independent of
the temperature settings.
 
Passing down the street along several vendors of fresh foodstuffs, they
passed a hotel. A frisky blonde 'night' employee came out. As soon as she
seen the two Naval officers, she approached with a wry grin.
 
"Well lookit what we've got here... Two Admirals goin out ta see. Ya need
a little fun 'fore ya cast off?" She started pawing the CSO. J.C. cast a
sharp look at Rory.
 
"I KNOW I didn't put HER in." said J.C. The 'Great Caitian Expedition was
enough for a while. Rory turned a bit white, unsure of the potential wrath
of his new CO.
 
"VERY sorry, Sair. I thought enjoy a bit of horseplay..." *Now, he couldn't
have known about Cait. Don't be too hard on him.* He decided to play along,
to a point. J.C. turned to the mistress,
 
"Not now, Lady. We're in a bit of a rush. Perhaps later." They walked on,
stopping only once more as they passed a bakery, from which the most delectable
aromas seemed to draw them in, mouth watering before they even hit the doorway.
Ten minutes and two oversized pastries (each) later, they emerged and headed for
the docks.
 
A short distance from the bakery, the cobblestone road curved sharply, allowing the
harbour to come into full view. Both men stood there in awe. Portsmouth traffic was
as busy, if not moreso than any modern-day STARBASE. The amount of traffic was by
far the only similarity. Frigates, sloops, Ship-of-the-Line and all sorts of
others about either loading, unloading, just coming in, or preparing to leave. The
snow had begun to come down a bit heavier now, and they picked up their pace towards
small building that housed the Port Captain. Light shone through the windows, as
small puffs of smoke climbed up from the rooftop chimney.
 
Approaching the door, J.C. reached out and rapped a few quick times, then twisted the
knob. Two midshipmen, barley into their teens, vaulted to their feet. A grim older
figure clad in a Captain's dress sat in front of the minute fireplace. *Nice effect,
even without the cold temperature,* thought J.C.
 
"Eh? What have we here?" the older fellow slowly rose to the newcomers. Rory looked
to J.C., who grinned and nodded. He came to attention, not quite as smartly as the
Middies had done.
 
"Captain, Second Leftenant Allard and Ensign Heywood reporting for duty." J.C. tried
his best Brit. accent, but failed at Rory rolling his eyes and snickering.
 
"Oh, you are, are you?" said the P.C. "I'm Port Captain Gritham, and where are your
ORDERS!" Each presented his orders scroll, to which he glanced over them and tossed
upon an pile on his desk. The Middies sat back down.
 
"Blast their Lordships! The fool Admiralty assign a crew ta' a jolly-run like this!
Makes no sense, and causes more work!" He scowled at the FEYNMAN men, trying to
read them.
 
"Hrmf. More work for a man who's given his life for King and Country, and 'gently
been beached 'cause he's been one too many sailing's. Blast the Navy!"
Obviously the result of someone who had too many years or connections to retire,
but to old to command a ship. So the Admiralty had given him an 'honourable' light
duty.
 
"They're Lordships can take this post..."
 
"Beggin' the Cap'ns pardon," said Rory. "Shouldn't we be getting on to our ship?"
Gritham took a long sigh,
 
"Aye. That you should. Me regrets for blowin' up at the lot of you like a French
twenty-pounder." He gestured towards the door, they moved to leave, all except the
Midshipmen. Rory nodded at them,
 
"What about them?"
 
"Oh, they're MY addition." J.C. grinned. "They're the PERSONAL escort for the Captain."
 
"Uh, is it too late to ask for a transfer, Mr. Allard." J.C. laughed, and propelled
Rory out of the door behind Captain Gritham. The wound their way around the docks
and came to a row of small boats. The climber in, and Gritham whistled to two seamen
for rowing duty.
 
"It's a maze for someone to get to a ship." said J.C. The seamen started off rowing
towards a group of ships.
 
"Is that one ours," asked Rory. No one could make out the names on the hulls,
they were still too far out, and the snow was still getting worse.
 
"Lad," said Gritham. "That's the Flagship of the North Fleet!"
 
"Oh... how about that smaller one?" he tried again.
 
"Naw. That's the BOUNTY. She's leaving tomorrow for Tahiti." Captain Gritham
looked displaced. "What I wouldn't give to change places with that grouse
that's a takin her helm! A boot licker that served as Cook's lackey! But
then we each have our tales..." he trailed off, searching the ships. As they
came around the flagship, he pointed.
 
"There's your lady, boys!" the oarsmen rowed them closer, and slowly the hull
became visible...
 
H.M.S. FEYNAMN. They could hear the seamen and petty officer hollering orders,
 
"Get those bloody topsills' and headsils' wrapped up 'fore the Capn' get here or
you'll wind up overboard!"
 
"There ya' be. She's a good ship. Treat he well for your short trip." Gritham had
changed from the sour old salt to a kinder fatherly figure. The gig came about
to the side ladder, and J.C. grabbed for the ropes.
 
"Hold on there," said Gritham. He extended his hand with two scrolls, one for each.
"Here's you a copy of the roster. Penned them myself, even though it took all night."
 
"Thank you very much, Captain Gritham." said J.C., taking the scroll. Rory echoed his
comments to the P.C., and did likewise. This scroll was even more beautifully done
than J.C.'s imitation.
 
<nowiki>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</nowiki><br>
Ship's Company for the Maiden Voyage
of His Majesty's Ship FEYNMAN
 
Zane - Commander<br>
Maril - Ship's Master<br>
Jenn - Master's Mate<br>
Jerran - Navigator<br>
Koreth - Carpenter<br>
Allard - Master-at-Arms<br>
Heywood - Master-at-Arms Mate<br>
Meleah - Royal Scientific Advisor, Associate Dean at Oxford<br>
Mackrenseklar - Ship's Surgeon<br>
Landers - Adjutant to the Lordships of the Admiralty (Captain's Advisor)<br>
Durensten - Captains Steward<br>
 
Sir Azariah Nicholas, Lord High Admiral of the SILVER (North) Fleet<br>
<nowiki>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</nowiki><br>
 
They rolled the documents back up, and bid farewell to Gritham as
they climbed the rope ladder up the FEYNMAN.
 
"I better be gitten back," said the P.C. "By now some more o your
crew migh be there..." J.C. and Rory landed on the deck as the Boatswain
piped them aboard.
 
"When the Captain's gig comes about, call all hands on deck" ordered J.C.
 
"Very good, Sir." said the Boatswain. *I can't wait!*, grinned J.C., as
he shook some snow off his jacket...
 
submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
Splatter2@qtm.net<br>
 
<nowiki>********
* NRPG *
********</nowiki><br>
 
Hope everyone enjoys the trip back to Merry old England, circa 1787!!! I've
been wanting to do this for quite some time, and am a history buff of the
time period... a bit of the Horatio Hornblower in me! <SBG>
 
Cheers!!!!<br>
Mike<br>
 
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
= Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard CSO USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG =<br>
+ Lt. [Dr.] D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - UNASSIGNED SILVER FLEET    +<br>
= Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny CNS USS BURKE GREEN FLEET          =<br>
+ Lcdr. Ion Steiner L.C. SFDITF TEAM ALPHA-1 SFDITF        +<br>
= Capt. Johan Bauer COMSFDITF "All I ask is a tall ship..." =<br>
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Take A Tart To Sea?</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 5-15-1997</h4>
 
Stardate: 90515.1224<br>
Scene: Holodeck 2<br>
MD: 1.0800<br>
 
Krysa walked down the corridor to the holodeck, pulling uncomfortably on
the awkward fit of the trousers for this mission briefing. While she had
to admit it did look quite dashing, the computer had failed to adjust
accurately for the slightly altered shape of the FEYNMAN's OPS officer.
Krysa simply did not have the narrow hips for which the uniform was
originally intended.
 
She was grateful that the shirt was blousy, and therefore not
constrictive across her front. Even the over coat seemed to fit better
then the trousers, despite the fact that Krysa did not have the flat
chest normally associated with British naval officers.
 
She had tied her hair back in a single pony tail, and put on the hat as
a finishing touch. She wasn't sure she looked the part, but figured it
would suffice.
 
She picked up a scroll set just outside the doors, quickly scanned it
and stepped onto the holodeck..
 
The busy cobblestone road was slightly wet from the light snowfall. But
the dampness of the day did not stop any of the daily tasks. Krysa
pulled her shoulders back and tried to walk with the dignity that any
Naval officer would as she headed down the street toward the dock.
 
Krysa spotted a rather colorful woman looking her up and down.
Interesting garb, Krysa thought. The woman took note of Krysa's glance
and laughed, "Ain't never tried it that a 'fore, but can't be any worse
then the t'other."
 
Krysa blushed slightly as she realized what the woman was talking about.
Then she smiled back as an idea hit her. She headed over to the woman,
"How'd you like to make a deal?"
 
"What's ya got in mind?" the woman asked eyeing her warily.
 
"Come with me," Krysa grinned, grabbing the woman's hand and pulling her
into the building.
 
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
 
Fifteen minutes later Krysa stepped out of the inn; the shiny black
boots and feathered hat gone, replaced by lace stockings and a black
mole just over the left side of her upper lip. Her woolen, navy blue
jacket, and awkward fitting trousers replaced by a tight corset and
cotton skirts, tucked into her belt on one side, just enough to show her
knee and the top of one off white stocking.
 
This wasn't a comfortable costume either.. but it was definitely more
fun! She turned to see the blonde harlot oohing with her friends over
the shiny buttons and gold cording of Krysa's Naval uniform. Smiling she
tucked the scroll into the front of her bodice and sauntered merrily on
down the cobblestone street to the Port Captain's office.
 
She rapped lightly on the door and smiled wickedly when the door opened.
 
Two young men gawked at her and nearly fell backwards as she moved
toward them, "S... sir .." One of them finally spit out.
 
The older Port Captain turned to look at his newest 'guest'. He grinned
devilishly as he looked her over. "My, my, what do we have here?"
 
"I've come to catch a ride over to that handsome new boat you have out
there," she said teasingly. Then reached for the scroll and pulled it
slowly out. She winked at the man as she handed it over, "If that's all
right with you, that is."
 
He took the scroll, his eyes focused on his former hiding place.
Unwrapping it he quickly read through it before looking back up at her.
"It's a shame to send you over to those scrappers. Wouldn't you rather
have a little party here with me?"
 
Just then there was another rap at the door, and Krysa grinned, figuring
it was likely the next one of her crewmates. She watched as the door
opened, then turned to the Port Captain and chuckled cheekily at him,
"Now I wouldn't mind .. but *he* might .."
 
She turned to see the next FEYNMAN crewmember ..
 
Regards,<br>
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
<nowiki>****</nowiki><br>
NRPG: So who gets to take a consort on the HMS FEYNMAN with him...<br>
 
Kristen<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Surprise!</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 5-15-1997</h4>
 
SD:90515.1700<br>
MD:1.0740<br>
Scene:Zane's Quarters<br>
 
Captain Zane looked into the mirror with great satisfaction. He knew
when he saw the uniform sitting on the replicator pad he would enjoy
wearing it. But now as he stood meticulously scrutinizing every square
centimeter of the naval dress he decided that this was an item he would
keep for later use. His anticipation for the holodeck was growing by
the second. Sheathing his dress sword he retrieved his hat from the
table and place it under his arm. With a brisk stride he was off.
 
As he stepped into 1787 Britain the first thing he noticed was the
smell. It was terrible. And in seconds he found out why. All along
the street windows were being opened and shutters thrown out as the
citizens of Portsmouth were dropping their refuse into the gutters
below. Fortunately the holodeck doors had deposited Zane in the middle
of the cobblestone street and he decided without much effort that he
would not stray any closer to the sides. Seeing the harbour off to the
south he placed his hat on his head and began to follow the winding
road.
 
As he walked along the road he tried to take in as much as he could but
his attention was soon drawn to six burly marines plowing their way up
the street. Each of them carried a small truncheon and to the rear a
horse and cart followed by an older, meaner looking man. As soon as the
morning’s passerby saw them they began to scurry in all directions. For
a moment the captain was confused at what he was seeing but it quickly
dawned on him when two young men were unfortunate enough to exit a store
and walk right into the middle of the burly marines. A few words were
spoken, a brief struggle ensued and suddenly both men had gone limp and
were being ‘helped’ into the wagon. Two more volunteers for the Royal
Navy.
 
"You there." Zane called out to a scruffy young lad as he neared the
harbour.
 
"Wot me?" The urchin replied as he sauntered confidently over to Zane.
 
"Yes boy. Where is the Port Captains office?"
 
"Wot’s it wirth ta ya?" The boy challenged.
 
Zane felt around in the pockets of his overcoat. He found a small
change purse and pulled it out. Plucking out one of the larger coins he
held it for the boy to see before tossing it to him. The look of
astonishment on the lads face revealed the fact that the coin was of a
fairly large denomination.
 
"Cor!" The boy exclaimed. "I’ll takes ya there meself." And with an
air of guide heading out into darkest Africa the boy set off.
 
"Right in their guv." The boy pointed at a rather ramshackle cabin and
with a grin scurried off.
 
The port captain was busily downed his third glass of brandy as Zane
walked through the door. Seeing him Gritham capped the bottle and put
it back on his shelf while he muttered something about woman and seamen
not mixing. Zane wondered what that meant but decided to ignore it.
 
"Well now, you must be Commander Zane, captain of His Majesty’s Ship
FEYNMAN, the flagship no less."
 
"No less." Zane replied holding out the scroll. "My orders sir."
 
Gritham gave them a cursory glance. "Yes, yes. All in order. You
will find your ship in berth seven. It is fully crewed. All you be
waiting on is the rest of your officers and of course the admiral."
 
"Of course." Zane replied wondering what exactly had the captain so
preoccupied.
 
"Well then be off with you!"
 
<nowiki>---------------------------------------------</nowiki><br>
 
Scene: HMS FEYNMAN
 
The bosun’s whistle rang out as Zane was piped aboard. Allard was
waiting there but his attention was focused on something aft. Zane
turned to see what the attraction was and realized just what Gritham’s
whispered comment had meant. "Very realistic having a working girl see
the ship off lieutenant, excuse me, leftenent, but its very unlikely
that she’d be let aboard."
 
For a moment there was silence as Allard weighed the options of just how
he should answer that when a whistle from above broke his thoughts and
he noticed the leering holomen up in the rigging. "You lot!" He
screamed. "Get to work or I’ll have you all keel hauled!"
 
"Nice program leftenant." Zane said as headed in the same direction of
the assumed holotart, Bat’s buffet.
 
"Well now." Bat said as Zane approached. "Its not like you to be
early for a meeting. Computer malfunction and give you the wrong time?"
 
"Good morning to you Mr. Cabin boy. Nice outfit. So whats good
today?"
 
Bat smiled wickedly. "How about a nice cup of grog." He handed the
cup over and watched as Zane took a swig and in doing so noticed who the
holowoman actually was and then tried his best not to spew it all over
the deck. With supreme effort he managed to swallow it.
 
"Enjoy the grog." Bat replied as he calmly downed his own. "All true
sailors love it." He added with a grin.
 
"Good morning captain." Krysa said with a playful smile. "Welcome to
the meeting."
 
Before Zane could reply the bosun’s whistle rang out again. He turned
to see who had joined them.
 
<<<NRPG>>>
 
Ok as is his mission in life, Joseph sent out a post just as I sent my
original thus voiding mine. For whatever reason my server hiccupped and
some of you did not get it. For those of you who did…ignore it and go
from this one.
 
Oh BTW, couldn’t resist tossing in one of my favourite Simpson’s lines
 
Respectfully,<br>
Andy-->Internet challenged!<br>
<nowiki>___________________________________________________________</nowiki>
-Captain Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-Commodore Robert Steele, Commanding TF ZINDERNEUF<br>
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence, BLUE Fleet<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: PISSED OFF!</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 5-16-1997</h4>
 
SD 90516.1709 CDT/2209 GMT<br>
MD 1.0900<br>
Scene: The cobblestone street...<br>
 
Mary Mac was PISSED. The uniform provided by the computer was incredibly
slim-fitting. She wondered if Allard had meant this as a practical joke.
She would soon find out...
 
Mary had already killed 3 of the holocitizens for trying to "paw" her.
Mary didn't even bother to keep her rapier sheathed. Mary was headed at
full tilt towards the portmaster's office, when she was stopped by a
harlot in a naval uniform.
 
"Don't I look pretty?" said the little tart, who was obviously suffering
from advanced stages of syphilis.
 
Mary dropped into a mok'bara position and lopped the whore's head off and
continued on her way..
 
<nowiki>-------</nowiki><br>
Scene: Portmaster's Office<br>
 
Mary had her rapier trained on the old man. The other two had already
been cut down when they tried to cop a feel. The old man gave Mary her
orders and said very little. He directed her to the launch. Mary
thanked him and stepped into the dinghy and prepared herself for the ride
out to the HMS FEYNMAN
 
<nowiki>-------</nowiki><br>
Scene: On the deck of Her Majesty's Ship, FEYNMAN<br>
 
Mary was the last to board the ship. She had fallen behind, deciding on
whether or not she was going to wear the ridiculous (sic) costume that
she had been given. By the time she had chosen it was 0830 hours. Mary
spotted Kryssa, who had most likely been the one to change her uniform
with that of the streetwalker. Just as Mary was going over to talk with
Krysa and Meleah, she spotted Lt. Allard.
 
*Just the person I was looking for* Mary thought as she made a beeline
for his position, with an evil gleam in her eyes and a hand on her
rapier...
 
<nowiki>-------------</nowiki><br>
NRPG:<br>
 
All: I'm glad to be back on-line!! The last 72 hours have been a
nightmare, but I think everything is back in order, and I have made
arrangements so that the virus can never take control again. I read
everyone's post, so I guess mine's the last one before we move
on.....Sorry this one's soooo short, but things are a whirlwind right
now!
 
Mike: Don't take Mary's thoughts too hard. She'll calm down after ya
tell her it was not a joke. She *does not* like form-fitting clothing
;)!! I promise no violence will be brought down on Allard's head ;)
Also, this is just a nit-pick, but Mary goes by Mac and not
Mackrenseklar. Mackrenseklar is reserved for the computer....
 
Respectfully submitted,
 
Ensign Mary Dana Mac(krenseklar), M.D.<br>
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.<br>
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet<br>
David Williams<br>
drjekyll@softwareplus.net<br>
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA<br>
 
"Just be yourself, don't hide... Just believe in destiny,<br>
Don't care what people say, Just follow your own way,<br>
Don't give up and use the chance, You'll return to innocence..."<br>
--Enigma, "Return To Innocence"<br>
 
<nowiki>-------------------==== Posted via Deja News ====-----------------------</nowiki><br>
http://www.dejanews.com/ Search, Read, Post to Usenet<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: The Doctor's Revenge <insert evil laugh></h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 5-17-1997</h4>
 
SD 90516.2117 CDT/0200 GMT (90517)<br>
MD 1.0910<br>
Scene: The deck of His Majesty's Ship, Feynman<br>
 
Mary moved closer to the buffet table, where Lt. J.C. Allard stood. The
murderous look on her face made Allard distinctly nervous, but he stood
his ground. He noticed that the Doctor's body made the most lovely
Risian girl look like swine. Mary reached towards the table, picked up a
drink and drenched the Lieutenant with it. J.C. sputtered like a wet
toaster, unable to fathom why the most lovely woman in the universe would
throw a drink in his face, and he hadn't even said anything!
 
Mary grabbed one of the holodeck men, took his cloak, and pushed the poor
hologram off the side of the ship. She pulled the cloak around her body
and joined the lively discussion being put on by Krysa, Meleah, and
Captain Zane.
 
Mary slid up next to Krysa, and soon the ops manager turned to her.
 
"Hello Doctor. Mary isn't it" Krysa said as she looked into the Orion's
black eyes.
 
"Yes. I noticed the lively conversation and decided to join the group.
I guess I'm not the only one who is made "uncomfortable" in this
hideously misogynistic costume" Mary said as she pointed to Krysa's
harlot trappings.
 
"Ah yes. I couldn't help it. J.C.'s costume was riding up on me and I
said to myself 'what the hell' and grabbed that streetwalker. I hear she
made a fool of herself, parading around in the naval garb." Krysa said
as she took a sip of her drink.
 
"Well she won't have to worry about anymore. I ended her holographic
life about 10 minutes ago. The only good thing about this naval costume
is that the rapier is quite real" Mary said to her amazed audience.
 
<You guys pick up the conversation here>
 
<nowiki>-----------</nowiki><br>
NRPG:<br>
 
All: I hope I haven't set the briefing ahead to far. I was rather
belated in my posting. I apologize profusely for my miswritten "Her
Majesty's Ship" earlier. I totally forgot that it wasn't Elizabeth II
but King George III. Sorry! The "sputtering like a wet toaster" line is
something I have always wanted to type. It's from G.I. Joe, a line that
Cobra Commander say to Destro. Boy, no one could do camp like the good
ole CC.
 
Andy, Melanie, & Kris: I'll turn this conversation over to you. My only
advice is not to comment on the good doctor's uniform or she may have to
reach for her rapier. <G> Sorry, Mike! ------
 
Respectfully submitted,
 
Ensign Mary Dana Mac(krenseklar), M.D.<br>
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.<br>
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet<br>
David Williams<br>
drjekyll@softwareplus.net<br>
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA<br>
 
"Just be yourself, don't hide... Just believe in destiny,<br>
Don't care what people say, Just follow your own way,<br>
Don't give up and use the chance, You'll return to innocence..."<br>
--Enigma, "Return To Innocence"<br>
 
<nowiki>-------------------==== Posted via Deja News ====-----------------------</nowiki><br>
http://www.dejanews.com/ Search, Read, Post to Usenet<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Close Your Mouth, Dear</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 5-17-1997</h4>
 
Stardate: 90517.1326<br>
Scene: HMS FEYNMAN<br>
 
Jenn settled into a spot along the side of the boat next to Zane a smile
still on her lips from the practical joke on the poor Mr. Heywood.
 
"You know you really shouldn't tease the crew like that," he grinned,
"They might get the wrong idea."
 
"It made Allard happy. Besides it was kinda fun." She wiggled a bit
pulling on the corset, "Well, at least now I know why the women were
always in such a blooming hurry to get these things off!"
 
Zane nearly spit out the second mouthful of grog since arriving on the
HMS FEYNMAN.
 
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
 
It wasn't long before they were approached by the green-skinned Orion
CMO. She towered over the diminutive OPs officer by at least a foot. But
Krysa was not easily intimidated.
 
>"Hello Doctor. Mary isn't it" Krysa said as she looked into the
Orion's black eyes.
 
>"Yes. I noticed the lively conversation and decided to join the
group. I guess I'm not the only one who is made "uncomfortable" in this
hideously misogynist costume." Mary said as she pointed to Krysa's
harlot trappings.
 
"Ah yes. I couldn't help it. J.C.'s costume just wasn't my style and I
couldn't pass up the chance to have a little fun on our mission
briefing. The young woman was more then happy with the trade. Though, I
hear she made a fool of herself, parading around in the naval garb."
Krysa said as she took a sip of her drink.
 
>"Well she won't have to worry about anymore. I ended her holographic
life about 10 minutes ago. The only good thing about this naval costume
is that the rapier is quite real" Mary said to her amazed audience.
 
Krysa's mouth dropped open and Zane thoughtfully pushed it closed for
her. "Care for a cup of Grog?" He asked the newest FEYNMAN crewmember,
diplomatically.
 
Regaining her composure Krysa smiled at the woman, "Well, she is only a
hologram after all."
 
"Not fond of blood, Commander?" The CMO asked pointedly.
 
"Um," Krysa sputtered for a moment, a bit caught off guard by the woman,
"Not really I suppose. Though I imagine as a Doctor, you get used to
it." She smiled uncomfortably and looked at the Captain, "So where do
you suppose Commander Maril is."
 
He grinned at her. Krysa was rarely off kilter, but this new CMO seemed
to have done just that in only a short conversation. "He'll be alone
soon, I'm sure. Look, here comes the Admiral."
 
Regards,<br>
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
NRPG: Well, David, Mary seems to have surprised my Krysa :} I wouldn't
worry about it. I'm sure she can pull herself together :}
 
Kristen
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">SB EPSILON: Silver Chains Weigh Anchor</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Mike Dawe 5-18-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90518
 
Azariah returned from the last ship briefing before the Defender
left orbit with a twinge of regret and nostalgia. He had taken a shuttle,
still wearing the hat he had worn during the briefing. Any jokes at his
expence because of the replica of a 18th century Admirals hat was made well
clear of his earshot. As the shuttle closed with the Defender he turned his
gaze from the teardrop shape of his former command to once again examine his
new one.
 
The Defender of Hoji sat there, a behemoth amongst the backdrop of
the other starships. Mining ships and shuttles were gnats before it. The
Feynman, a kitten before a sabertooth. Every angle and surface of the
vessel spoke of violence and war. Small worker shuttles were still making
repairs on the damage that the ship had sustained during the defence of the
Kzin colony. They moved slowly across its surface, ants on the body of a
juggernaut.
 
A gaping hole appeared on the underside of the ship and the shuttle
swooped closer to be taken by a tractor beam and pulled into the lower
shuttle bay. Off to one side there was still the remains of the medical
triage that had been the first mission for the Defender. The shuttle was
guided slowly to the base of the ampitheater and soon the Admiral was
crossing the broad deck and climbing the stairs to the side elevators that
would take him to his office.
 
The hat that had seemed foolish in the small shuttle somehow fit
this larger than life environment and he had a sudden urge to wear the hat
onto the bridge. He fought it successfully and dropped it off in his office
before heading up to the bridge.
 
>"Admiral on the bridge!" an officer near the lift shouted.
>
>Everyone on the bridge of the DEFENDER snapped to attention, and a
>hush fell over them. They stood and watched as Adm. Nicholas walked
>to the rail at the upper level of the bridge.
>
>"Hmmf. If you people do that everytime I walk into a room around
>here, we'll never get this ship ready for departure," he said.
>
>No one moved. Taara though that some of the younger officers weren't
>even breathing.
>
>"As you were," the Adm. said with a wave of his hand. The barely
>controlled chaos erupted again.
>
>Nicholas approached the pair, "Dr, Cmdr. I'm supposed to meet with
>Capt. Circe."
>
>"She just left to meet you, Adm." Dark Blade said, "I think she went to
>your office."
>
>"Damn. I thought we were meeting in her ready room. Well, at least I
>know where my office is. I can't seem to find anything else on this
>ship."
>
>Nicholas turned to walk away when Dr. Jarel said, "Admiral, you need
>to make an appointment for your semi-annual physical."
>
>He paused, turned and said, "It's been 6 months already?"
>
>"Aye, sir."
>
>"I'll be in next week," he said and then he walked off grumbling
>something about doctors.
 
He returned to his own office to find the captain there waiting for
him while examining the hat that sat on his desk. He smiled and swept the
hat to one side as he sat down and steepled his fingers. "I wanted to have
a meeting with you now that we have got the ship ready to go. I wwant to
set the ground rules for how things will operate. Where it comes to fleet
matters, who docks and when, I and my staff must have the right of way. If
it is day to day business then you have the call _unless I_ say otherwise.
Is that acceptable to you?"
 
"I suppose I have little choice on that question, do I Admiral." It
was more a statement of fact than a question.
 
"No I suppose you don't. But I wanted the rules out in the open.
I'll try to keep off of your turf as much as possible so those damn junior
officers don't go hoarse yelling 'Admiral on the bridge'."
 
Circe nodded. "I see we are headed for Zinderneuf. Transfer of
command?"
 
He nodded. "I'll be handing over half the fleet to Bob Steele.
Then we are going to take a position on a different side of the cloud, the
outland side and be the base for deeper space explorations. While we are
out there we will continue to try to figure each individual system on this
boat as the knowledge will come in handy when we get our new base."
 
This was the first mention of any new base that the captain had
heard. She leaned forward in anticipation of the news. He didn't
dissapoint her as he explained how the Feynman had found a Husnock Moonbase
deep in the nebula. It also had been the site of a ancient underwater
civilization that could be closer examined by another ship at a later date.
 
"The Feynman is now trying for a first contact with a race that
reportedly can move planets and moons. If they are successful we will
engage them to bring the moon out of the nebula and into the new position."
 
"What are the other ships doing right now?" She asked, feeling that
the world had been passing her by since the loss of the Elizabeth Blackwell.
 
"Let's see" he tapped a PADD and skimmed the contents as he
answered. "The Andromeda is currently on a diplomatic mission to the CO's
homeworld which the Romulans are trying to convince to change allegiances.
With Klingons also trying for a little gunboat diplomacy in the neighborhood
it looks to be a tense situation."
 
"Which is why you have your flagship there." Commented Circe.
 
"Exactly, it also doesn't hurt that the CO is of the right race to
give us an inside track in the proceedings. The Bismarck is being used to
ferry crew and equipment off of the Caitian station."
 
"That must irk the CO." Circe sympathised with a ship getting the
ferry duty.
 
"Nope, I said the Bismarck is doing the run. The senior staff is
currently elsewhere on a mission that I cannot go into detail on right now.
They should be arriving on site soon but they are pretty well on
communications blackout so I won't know how things are going until they are
over."
 
Thsi was a different mission profile from the standard and Circe
wish she knew more about it. Most missions were ship related, to assign a
crew without a ship was not something done lightly or often.
 
"The Callisto is going on a little diplomatic errand" He continued
casually. Too casually. Circe knew there was a lot more to that statement
than met the eye but again she did not pry. She had seen the callisto
loading and noted the abundance of a specific type of crew transferring
aboard. Marines or ex-marines for the most part. And he had them doing
diplomacy?
 
"The Endeavour is chasing a warp speed anomoly it spotted a while
ago. We have lost a cruise ship and a scout vessel to the anomoly so far."
He paused. "I hope I don't lose another ship. I cannot afford it."
 
She knew that wasn't meant to be a dig but it hurt just the same.
In the space of a few months Silver had lost three ships and hers had been
the third. It had crippled what had once been the single command in
starfleet. "I know Lakotas reputation. They should be able to pull it off."
 
He nodded. "If anyone can." and left it at that. "As I already
said, the Feynman is going out on a first contact mission in hopes of
finding us some new tech. The Hawking, on the other hand."
 
She smiled. The greeting and hospitality the CO of the Hawking had
shown them had been good. "Yes? Where are you sending them next?"
 
"It was almost to the Grey fleet." He grudgingly admitted. "Head
office stole the CO out from under me and didn't approve the latest upgrades
for the Hawkings systems. I'm scrambling to find a replacement CO . . . "
he looked her in the eye. "It was almost you but I just got you settled
here. Now if you want I can still make it happen but I have to know now."
 
<nowiki><<<nrpg>>></nowiki><br>
Seriously David and Holly (even though you are not in the room) I can make
this happen but I need to know soonest.)
<<<rpg>>><br>
 
They discussed the topic for a space of time before the Admiral
returned to the original topic as though nothing had changed or been said.
"The Pearson is out on a mapping expedition but hasn't been keeping to her
proposed schedule of call-ins. I wasn't a 100% comfortable with giving
Wolfe command of a vessel in this region after the loss of the Bishop but he
had all of the qualifications."
 
That one took a moment to digest. "You don't mean . . ."
 
"He won't back down and he has an axe to grind. A dangerous
combination in this region given the current tensions. But he is a
Starfleet officer and I trust him to do his duty." Any reservation the
Admiral might have had vanished as he made his statement and Circe was
reminded how much responsibility this one man carried. Not just one command
but ten were his and all the souls that served in Silver. And he stood like
an ancient oak under the pressure, refusing to bend or give an inch to it.
 
"Lastly there is the Regent." He chuckled.
 
"What is so funny?"
 
"I had two experts in from the Daystron institute to tell me that
the mission that the Regent was going on was a total impossibility. As one
put it . . . 'It would be more likely to make a Vulcan laught with a knock
knock joke'. So I sent them along to watch. Last report I had was that the
regent had just completed battle with a fighter group and a pair of Klingon
Bird of Preys."
 
"You sent a Storm class ship on a combat mission? What kind of Pod
were they carrying? Tactical weapons? Gattling phaser units?"
 
"No, no, and no. Thye are on a scientific mission and their
auxilary Pod was 100% dedicated to the mission. Its just that Fife and
Canon are one of those odd pairs that manage to get into _and out of_
trouble. I expect they'll complete the mission in spite of its being
impossible due to a linguistic weakness on their parts."
 
"Linguistic weakness?"
 
"Neither of them is quite clear on what impossible means. Patch
seams to think it means try harder and Fife is more of the 'switch to plan
B' belief. 'Impossible' isn't in their vocabulary." he paused. "But it is
in mine, and if I don't get to some paper work soon impossible will describe
the tasks that pile up."
 
Circe took this as a cue to get up. "I appreciate the news Admiral.
Sometimes you feel like the rest of the Universe stops while you are on a
mission. Its nice to know what the neighbours are doing."
 
"Anytime Captain, anytime."
 
<<<nrpg>>>
Roll call y'all. Ships staffing reports and rosters ASAP.
 
mike--->who wonders how some people manage to get by with 2k posts. Figures
it must be the soil or the sun as his grow of their own accord.
 
Vice Admiral Azariah Nicholas CINCSILVER<br>
Captain Christof Fife USS REGENT<br>
Lt. Cmdr Eskat Eskat CNS USS HERMES<br>
Lt James Cardiff FCO DEFENDER<br>
Lt. Derek O'Malley CNS USS CALLISTO<br>
Kytan Duandir XO HRSS St. Jude<br>
mdawe@islandnet.com<br>
 
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: And This Is Him In A Good Mood</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Mike Dawe 5-18-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90518<br>
 
He looked down at the data chip that had been delivered attached to
an ancient looking scroll with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation.
Finally he unrolled the scroll and read the invitation that it contained.
He then slotted the data into a reader and found it to contain a pattern for
the replicator. Running the file up and appending his own measurements he
soon found himself in possession of a small pile of clothes topped by a
tricorn hat that, in and of itself, made a statement.
 
Slowly he pulled on the clothing . . . the breaches were too tight,
the blouse far too loose. He tossed aside the sword that had been attached
and strapped on his own crystal sword. The hat fit and, amazingly enough,
did not feel unbalanced or liable to take flight at the first opportunity.
He tapped his communicator and announced to his aide who was still trying
to figure out how to make a corridor into an outer office that he would be
away for a few hours, on the Feynman. He then switched over to the
transporter chief and had himself beamed across to just outside of the
holodeck mentioned on the invite. Stuffing the invite into his belt he
entered the deck.
 
A more sensitive soul might have been slightly disgusted by the
squalor that was the day to day life of ancient times. Azariah had done a
lot of travelling and had experienced worse, first hand. While his hobby of
collecting scents had not gone to the extent of collecting such odours as
now assailed him he stepped out onto the street and, with a short sniff,
turned and headed for the docks, following his nose.
 
Enroute he was first accosted by a pack of street urchins who eyed
the cut of his uniform resplendent in braid and nudged each other before the
bravest of them approached. "Would ya be wantin a guide ta the Por' Cap'ns
office?"
 
The boy had underestimated the man, the clothes combined with the
girth of the Vice-Admiral did little to slow him down as he closed the
distance between them and scooped up the lad. "Hrrmf, now a fine Admiral
I'd be to not know the way, wouldn't I now. But, you _will_ be coming with me."
 
"Not bloody likely. Put me down." The boy squirmed in the paw of
the man that held him well off the ground. The other hand came around with
the swiftness of a snake and tapped a pocket. Silver within rang a clear sound.
 
"No, lad. You've accepted the Kings silver and you _know_ what that
means."
 
The little eyes went wide with fear. "Oy didn't. I ain't taken no
. . . they tricked me. Honest sir, it was just a bit o' guiding, for the
good of the city and the fleet. I wasn't out ta' join up."
 
"A sad tale, but one we will have to tell to the Port Captain. If
he is short some posts you may be looking at a whole new career. Now I'm
going to let you down slowly, try to run and I'll turn every swab in the
fleet out after you as a man whos jumped ship. And you know what we do to
them, don't you?"
 
"Oy won't run sir." Eyes wide with fear told that he probably
wouldn't. Admiral Nicholas set him down and followed his new guide. The
next encounter was briefer but had the boy laughing as they continued on.
"Oy ain't never seen ole Nell so scared in all her life. Whots a yellow
flag mean anyway?"
 
Azariah grinned. "Plague ship. She'll probably skin out of those
clothes so fast they'll burn just from the speed of the passage."
 
"Plague sir?" Squeeked the lad.
 
"I lied, I do that. But I won't have people making a mockery of my
fleet." Then he chuckled as he realized the incongruity of the statement
coupled with the location and the uniform he was now wearing. "But this
must be the place." They passed into the office and all present stood and
saluted. He nodded and saluted back before addressing the Port Captain. "I
have a young lad here who has taken the Silver. Would the fleet be looking
for any Cabin Boys?" Over the frightened lads head he tipped the Captain a
wink.
 
The Captain made a show of checking some papers and hemming and
hawing before announcing that the Feynman already had a Cabin Boy (at this
several sailors on the side snickered) and that perhaps the boy could report
in at a later date. The lad took this as permission to leave and wasted no
time doing so. The Port Captain laughed as the boy cleared the door heels
flying up as he took the turn and the racing footsteps faded. He then
turned back to Azariah and asked for his orders.
 
"My what?" The measured coldness of the reply was a tip.
 
"Your . . . orders?"
 
"I am an Admiral, whom would be cutting ME orders and why would I be
presenting them to YOU?. Now I am to join the crew that has been stumbling
through your doors this day and I plan to do so. You have a choice to make,
get me over to that ship personally or join the lad who just left in flight
from this mans navy. Do I make myself clear?"
 
Apparently he did for soon he was being rowed out to the waiting
vessel. Once he assured himself of the stability of the ferry he stood at
the prow and admired the lines of the ship he would soon be on. he cast a
practiced eye at the skies and nodded to himself. This would be an
interesteing briefing."
 
<<<nrpg>>>
Okay, so I'm a bully.
 
tomorrow the briefing. you may post me aboard and set sail. But I will do
the briefing after a short consult with an arch to make a few modifications
for the sake of the briefing itself.
 
mike--->who had a day similar to this today
 
 
Vice Admiral Azariah Nicholas CINCSILVER<br>
Captain Christof Fife USS REGENT<br>
Lt. Cmdr Eskat Eskat CNS USS HERMES<br>
Lt James Cardiff FCO DEFENDER<br>
Lt. Derek O'Malley CNS USS CALLISTO<br>
Kytan Duandir XO HRSS St. Jude<br>
mdawe@islandnet.com<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Briefing al fresco</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Mike Dawe 5-20-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90520
 
The wind had started to pick up as the Admiral stepped to the chart
table and unrolled a specially prepared roll of what looked like parchment.
When it was laid out and held down at each corner by either an officer who
was handy or a weight of some sort he began by drawing a small blade from on
sleeve and pointing down to the table.
 
"Hrrmf, here there be dragons." He declared in a melodramatic voice.
The wind freshened even more and he frowned at the fact that the weather was
beginning to upstage him. "Have us weigh anchor and get going. Once we are
running with the wind I'll be less distracted by errant breezes."
 
"Aye Admiral." The officer stepped back and gave several sets of
orders that, if all were followed would have sunk the ship in less than
three minutes. Fortunately the safeties and the user friendly interface of
the program were in full effect and the ship soon was picking up speed as
she headed out to sea.
 
Once again back at the chart table they found the Admiral having a
second cup of grog with Bat and arguing. "Now I wouldn't say that about
him. It may be a broomstick but I wouldn't say its all the way up his . . .
hmm? Ah yes. Well done, now back to the briefing. I wish to compliment
you and your team with the good work you've done in finding a suitable
facility. I think I am going to become very familiar with the Husnock
before my tour ends."
 
A chuckle went around the table from those who had seen the Admirals
new digs. "The only problem is I am not quite happy with the location."
 
"Repairs to the engines . . . " The CEO began only to be waved off.
 
"Would be far to costly and time consuming. No. I have an
alternative plan." His dagger touched the map and it shifted to a briefing
display screen showing a region of space. "On this outer edge of our known
area lies a System known as Tango-India. The what used to be the fourth
planet was little too cold for life and the third was too hot."
 
"What used to be? What happened?" Asked Maril.
 
"Karrest happened. A new planet arrived on the scene and slotted
right into the life zone of the solar system. It was inhabited by an
intelligent species we had heard rumours about but never found. It seems
that they like to travel without leaving home so they take their world with
them."
 
"Like the Fabrini?" Asked Meleah.
 
"No, they had a world that was, in truth, a starship. This starship
is a world. Core, atmosphere, the whole ball of wax. They have developed a
technology that allows them to move an entire planet with the equivalent of
D-Warp. They spend so little time in transit that the planet seems to
suffer no lasting effects. If they could do that for us . . . "
 
"Then they could move your moonbase for you." Zane finished.
 
"Correct, but we have yet to make formal contact with the
inhabitants. They are reputed to be a peaceful species, fortunate given
their skills. They have escaped several invasions and attacks simply by
leaving as the approaching force arrives. You will be the first contact
team as they obviously have the tech to warrant it. If successful then you
may also enter negotiations into having them do our little move for us.
Questions?"
 
"What do we have to offer a planet that can do what they do?" This
came from the counsellor, who would be the most likely negotiator.
 
"Perhaps a map of vacant systems within the federation and
permission to visit them?" The Admiral growled softly "I don't know, I
haven't met them. That is why I am sending YOU. Find out what they have,
what they need, see if we can get that. People this is a First Contact
mission. I cannot give you much more information besides where to go. I
don't even have a species description for them." He shrugged. "I expect
you to come back with a lot more than I send you out with."
 
He pulled his dagger from the map and it changed back to a standard
18th century chart. "Now I'll leave you to finish your cruise but I have
other ships to see to . . . "
 
"I'll call you an arch." Suggested J.C.
 
"No thank you, Mister Allard. I have arranged my own transport
home." The Admiral stepped to the starboard side of the ship and whistled
through his teeth. A moment passed and then a huge head broke the surface
of the ocean. "Like the map says, 'here there be dragons'." With a wave
the Admiral steeped off of the boat and onto the upper neck of the beast and
it turned and carried him off into the snowstorm.
 
"I knew I should have kept an eye on him after I gave him access to
the program." J.C. muttered.
 
<<<nrpg>>>
And now the ball is in the capable hands of the Feynman once again
 
Go to it. Karrest is a take off of a very old sci-fantasy called the
Witches of Karres but I do not expect you all to rush out and read it and
copy its characters. I only stole what I needed . . . a name and the
ability to move planets. From there it is up to y'all.
 
mike--->wondering what you'll do first. And I _had_ to make a grand exit
 
Vice Admiral Azariah Nicholas CINCSILVER<br>
Captain Christof Fife USS REGENT<br>
Lt. Cmdr Eskat Eskat CNS USS HERMES<br>
Lt James Cardiff FCO DEFENDER<br>
Lt. Derek O'Malley CNS USS CALLISTO<br>
Kytan Duandir XO HRSS St. Jude<br>
mdawe@islandnet.com<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: End and Beginning</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 5-22-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90522.1400<br>
MD: 1.1000<br>
Scene: Deck of HMS FEYNMAN, Holodeck 2<br>
 
The assembled FEYNMAN officers watched with bemused smiles as the
admiral whisked away on the back of the dragon. Unfortunately HMS
FEYNMAN’s holocrew were not as amused. As a man they began to sink into
a panic, so much so that two lost there footing and fell overboard.
Fortunately Bat who had nominated himself chief came to their rescue and
managed to calm them down. Mostly through intimidation and insult. The
surprise over he set them to work, rescuing their crewmates.
 
"Well then," Zane continued. "Pretty straight forward. We head out
into unexplored space, track down a race we have barely anything on, and
try to convince them to give total strangers this unbelievable power.
And to make it even better they have a history of being invaded so I’m
sure will be very trusting of strangers. Did I miss anything?"
 
"Actually," Maril began thoughtfully, "we might be able to use that
fear to both our advantage. Perhaps a suitable trade might be
membership in the Federation. That would give them protection. They
could even pick up their world and drop it into the middle of our space
if they wanted to."
 
They all considered the idea. "That’s the best suggestion I can think
of." Zane said. "Anyone else."
 
<<<Submit if ya got ‘um>>>
 
"Well Mr. Landers it looks like your about to embark on your first
diplomatic mission."
 
"Yes sir!" Loren answered it had been quite a meeting for him. "I
look forward to it."
 
"Good. We leave at 1200. Dismissed."
 
Someone called for the arch and they began to exit, each heading to
attend to last minute duties. As they did Zane grabbed Kyrsa’s arm
gently and pulled her closer. "I really think you should keep that
outfit." He whispered.
 
 
Scene: Bridge
MD:1.1200
 
"Course laid in." Jerran announced as Zane entered the bridge from his
ready-room.
 
"Very well." Zane answered as he lowered himself into his chair, the
premission excitement welling up in him as it always did. "Mr. Allard
signal the DEFENDER that we are leaving and send my compliments to the
admiral."
 
"Aye sir." Allard replied. "SILVER OPS has cleared us for departure.
 
"Mr. Jerran, full impulse and then warp 7 when we pass the asteroid
belt."
 
"Full impulse, aye."
 
 
<<<NRPG>>>
 
And away we go….
 
We’ll arrive in the vicinity of Karrest on MD: 7.1400. But I don’t
plan on Rping the whole way….feel free to throw out some filler or
assorted character development etc.
 
Admin type stuff:
 
Back when the demon.news gateway to the newsgroup was in full swing
one glance at the list made it look like it was the USS FEYNMAN
newsgroup and some other people posted as well. That of course changed
once that went down. I’d like to get that back. The eddress
<alt.star...@myriad.alias.net> seems stable so if you are having
any problems with the one you are using please try that one.
 
Please remember NRPG stuff is *not* to go to the newsgroup. I am
probably the worst offender as I am notorious for replying to something
at the end of a post and sending back to the group…watch for that one.
 
And since I’m in an anal retentive type mood please watch the headings
to the newsgroup its USS FEYNMAN: not RE: USS FEYNMAN.
 
Thanks.
 
Respectfully,<br>
Andy<br>
 
<nowiki>___________________________________________________________</nowiki><br>
-Captain Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-Commodore Robert Steele, Commanding TF ZINDERNEUF<br>
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Fleet Intelligence, BLUE Fleet<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Stop Rocking the Boat.</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Jason Bostjancic 5-22-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90522
Scene: Holodeck 2 (HMS FEYNMAN)<br>
 
The fact that he was just the ship's 'carpenter' left little for the engineer to
do on the pristine ship. Once the meeting was effectively over, he set about
playing out the scenario as the rest of the officers had chosen to do.
 
<I>
>Koreth seemed to take great interest in hauling sail lines, much to the
surprise of the holo-crew, who were not used to an Officer of His Majesty's
>Navy working beside Able-bodied seamen.<br>
</I>
 
"An I tau't they was all jus blow 'ards wit fancy buttn's!" Shouted a
particularly unshaven individual. The comment brought a round of
laughter that was quickly silenced when Tarrant looked sternly at
the man and placed his hand on his hilt.
 
"And *what* is that suppost to mean?"
 
The sailor now regretted his words, and tried desprately to appologize.
But all that came out was stuttered nonsence.
 
Grabbing one of the rigs and holding it behind his back, Tarrant
slowly walked towards the man who was now trying to backpedal.
Suddenly in a blur, the man was wrapped up in rope and found himself
hauled airborne up the secondary mast.
 
Looking wryly at the remaining crew Tarrant asked, "Anyone else have
a comment to make about my buttons?"
 
Scene: Outside Holodeck 2<br>
Time: MD 1.???? (after the meeting)<br>
 
As the Feynman's officers headed through the arch, effectively
stepping through time a few centuries, the ease of adjustment from
'sea' to 'land' legs varied among them. And among the worse
was Lt.Cmdr Koreth.
 
Undaunted, he attempted to catch up with Cmdr Jenn who had
a head start. With each step the partial klingon continued to
compensate for the rocking motion that no longer existed. Needless
to say he nearly bumped into everyone he tried to avoid. It also
didn't help that many of them were distracted by the 'harlett' that
passed them only moments before.
 
"Commander... Commander Jenn!"
 
The XO stopped and turned. "Yes, Commander?"
 
Trying with all his might not to lunge into her, Tarrant leaned up
against the wall.
 
"Problems ?" asked Krysa with a hint of a smile.
 
"Please give me a moment." the CEO took a deep breath
and straightened up a bit, "If at all possible, I need to have my
sister and nephew assigned quarters for the duration of this mission."
 
An inquisitive look crossed her face, "Hmm, I remember seeing their
clearence to come aboard, but I don't remember anything about an
extended stay."
 
"My 'father' has managed to call in a few favors to ensure they'd be
removed from Cait. Needless to say the order should be in before
we leave."
 
.....................
NRPG:
 
Krysa's response?
 
All, Feel free to play with the character of Tarrant's sister, Ferra. More
than likely she'll spend most of her time in and or around 10-F, and
maybe the sciences.
 
Character Info:
 
Her background is strong in archeology, divorced from a
deadbeat I hinted towards earlier, and basicly trying to rebuild
herself back to the spirited person she once was. Quite the
contrast to her older brother.
 
Little Torin, well he's around four, and has spent the good portion
of the last year living in caves with his mom. Needless to say,
a starship holds many wonders. But, his facination with the
little things is held in check with a bout of shyness. Again, the
lack of interaction has taken its toll.
 
Both of these characters I developed a while ago for another
project. I felt like trying to adapt them to ASR and see what
may be.
 
Respectfully,<br>
Jason<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Sailing Home...</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 5-22-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90522.1300<br>
MD: -1.0800<br>
SCENE: H.M.S. FEYNMAN - Quarterdeck<br>
 
The CSO applied a congratulatory thump onto Loren back as he returned to
his seat, sporting his new hollow pip which looked a tad bit strange upon the
collar of his 18th century Ensigns uniform of His Majesty's Royal Navy. Rory
Heywood, the new aCSO seemed dismayed, as the only equal he had met so far was now
his superior officer. Loren however, was all aglow with excitement. He elbowed
J.C. in the side,
 
"Guess you don't rate a 'Sir' any longer, huh?" teased the Counsellor.
 
"Just wait until your next sidearm qualification... I have this little scenario in
mind" they quieted down as Sir Nicholas, Lord High Admiral of the SILVER continued
with the lecture.
 
<I>
> "Perhaps a map of vacant systems within the federation and<br>
> permission to visit them?" The Admiral growled softly "I don't know, I<br>
> haven't met them. That is why I am sending YOU. Find out what they have,<br>
> what they need, see if we can get that. People this is a First Contact<br>
> mission. I cannot give you much more information besides where to go. I<br>
> don't even have a species description for them." He shrugged. "I expect<br>
> you to come back with a lot more than I send you out with."<br>
</I>
 
<nowiki>*Another first contact*</nowiki>, though J.C. *Probably another Xanthandi or something
creepy. Why can't we ever discover a people like the Vulcans, the Organians.* A
smile came to his face, *...or the wonderful people from Edo. Their favorite
pastime.... * The CSO shook the thought away, now wishing to become uncomfortable.
 
<I>
> He pulled his dagger from the map and it changed back to a standard<br>
> 18th century chart. "Now I'll leave you to finish your cruise but I have<br>
> other ships to see to . . . "<br>
</I>
 
When the Admiral concluded and finished all questions, he indicated it was time
to leave. J.C. piped up, as it never hurt to be kind to the Bear.
 
"Admiral, can I call for the Arch for you?" asked the CSO.
 
<I>
> "No thank you, Mister Allard. I have arrnaged my own transport<br>
> home." The Admiral stepped to the starboard side of the ship and whistled<br>
> through his teeth. A moment passed and then a huge head broke the surface<br>
> of the ocean. "Like the map says, 'here there be dragons'." With a wave<br>
> the Admiral steeped off of the boat and onto the upper neck of the beast and<br>
> it turned and carried him off into the snowstorm.<br>
><br>
> "I knew I should have kept an eye on him after I gave him access to<br>
> the program." J.C. muttered.<br>
</I>
 
All officers stood in at the very least, mild bewilderment. Before them,
a huge creature rose from the English Chanel, emitting a low growl. Azizrah
climbed upon its back, and patted its green scaley head, causing the growling
to become much louder. * Was that thing purring? * Checking his chrono, J.C.
walked up to Zane.
 
"Leftenant Allard reporting, Sir." Zane donned a broad grin, J.C. wondered if
the Captain was beginning to like to Navy of seven centuries ago.
 
"Yes, Mr. Allard." said Zane.
 
"It's three bells until we make port at Southampton." J.C. peered up into the
rigging at the ladder at the mainmast,
 
"It's a grand view coming into harbor. Would the Captain care to go aloft
and see for himself?" Loren rolled his eyes... The Royal Science Advisor
Meleah propelled J.C. forward a few steps,
 
"Lead the way, Leftenant!" J.C. audibly gulped.
 
"Go on, skipper! " nudged Commander Jenn playfully. Commander Terrel happily
shouted orders to the crew, raising and lowering the topsails, headsails, and
gallants, though not quite as skillfully as his counterpart of seven centuries
past would have. Bat was enjoying himself ringing the Ship's bell, not quite
every quarter hour, but closer to every few minutes.
 
Koreth seemed to take great interest in hauling sail lines, much to the surprise
of the holo-crew, who were not used to an Officer of His Majesty's Navy working
beside Able-bodied seamen.
 
Submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
splatter2@qtm.net<br>
 
<nowiki>********
* NRPG *
********</nowiki>
 
Just had to write one more before we really 'set sail'. Go on, Andy. Zane's not
afraid of heights!!!???
 
A reminder I'' be on a mini-vacation until Monday night. Will probably have to stop
at a Kinko's or something and get my e-mail, or suffer ASR-withdrawl!!!
 
To all of my friends on the FEYNMAN, have a fun and safe holiday weekend!
 
as always,<br>
Cheers!<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
 
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
= Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard CSO USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG =<br>
+ Lt. [Dr.] D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - UNASSIGNED SILVER FLEET    +<br>
= Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny CNS USS BURKE GREEN FLEET          =<br>
+ Lcdr. Ion Steiner L.C. SFDITF TEAM ALPHA-1 SFDITF        +<br>
= Capt. Johan Bauer COMSFDITF "All I ask is a tall ship..." =<br>
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br>
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: A Theory</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Melanie Pocknall 5-23-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90523.0247<br>
Holodeck two, HMS FEYNMAN<br>
 
<I>
> A chuckle went around the table from those who had seen the Admirals<br>
>new digs. "The only problem is I am not quite happy with the location."<br>
><br>
> "Repairs to the engines . . . " The CEO began only to be waved off.<br>
><br>
> "Would be far to costly and time consuming. No. I have an<br>
>alternative plan." His dagger touched the map and it shifted to a briefing<br>
>display screen showing a region of space. "On this outer edge of our known<br>
>area lies a System known as Tango-India. The what used to be the fourth<br>
>planet was little too cold for life and the third was too hot."<br>
><br>
> "What used to be? What happened?" Asked Maril.<br>
><br>
> "Karrest happened. A new planet arrived on the scene and slotted<br>
>right into the life zone of the solar system. It was inhabited by an<br>
>intelligent species we had heard rumours about but never found. It seems<br>
>that they like to travel without leaving home so they take their world with<br>
>them."<br>
</I>
 
"Like the Fabrini?" Asked Meleah as she leaned forward to take a
better look, although her eyesight was perfect. It was an unconscious
human habit she had picked up over her years in Starfleet.
 
<I>
> "No, they had a world that was, in truth, a starship. This starship<br>
>is a world. Core, atmosphere, the whole ball of wax. They have developed a<br>
>technology that allows them to move an entire planet with the equivalent of<br>
>D-Warp. They spend so little time in transit that the planet seems to<br>
>suffer no lasting effects. If they could do that for us . . . "<br>
 
<<SNIP>>
> He pulled his dagger from the map and it changed back to a standard<br>
>18th century chart. "Now I'll leave you to finish your cruise but I have<br>
>other ships to see to . . . "<br>
>
> "I'll call you an arch." Suggested J.C.<br>
><br>
> "No thank you, Mister Allard. I have arranged my own transport<br>
>home." The Admiral stepped to the starboard side of the ship and whistled<br>
>through his teeth. A moment passed and then a huge head broke the surface<br>
>of the ocean. "Like the map says, 'here there be dragons'." With a wave<br>
>the Admiral steeped off of the boat and onto the upper neck of the beast and<br>
>it turned and carried him off into the snowstorm.<br>
><br>
> "I knew I should have kept an eye on him after I gave him access to<br>
>the program." J.C. muttered.<br>
</I>
 
As the attention turned back to Zane, Meleah pondered the technology that
would be involved in moving a planet. Certainly, human technology was
nowhere near accomplishing such a thing so the ideas Meleah had to draw
upon were limited. But to actually move a whole planet, presumably with
cities on the surface, without suffering too much damage was almost
unthinkable. Half her mind listened to what was going on while the other
half worked on this problem.
 
<I>
>"Actually," Maril began thoughtfully, "we might be able to use that<br>
>fear to both our advantage. Perhaps a suitable trade might be<br>
>membership in the Federation. That would give them protection. They<br>
>could even pick up their world and drop it into the middle of our space<br>
>if they wanted to."<br>
><br>
> They all considered the idea. "That’s the best suggestion I can think<br>
>of." Zane said. "Anyone else."<br>
</I>
 
Meleah spoke up next. She had been thinking that the damage done to the
areas of space in which the planet came to rest would be difficult to
measure. In leaving a region of space, a planet would make a small change
in the density of that space which could ultimately lead to some adverse
effects in the surrounding area. She said as much to Zane.
 
"How?" he asked.
 
"Over the past fifty years, there has been an increase in the research into
hyperstrings. Hyperstrings make up the very fabric of space, and make our
universe unique. However, they can be pushed out of shape by various
events. Our ships passing through space doesn't have enough mass to
disrupt the strings but a planet's mass would displace them. There is a
theory that if a planet were to be destroyed, it would cause the strings to
vibrate. This vibration would theoretically affect the orbit of planets
and stars, which in turn would disrupt the natural environment of the
planets. If any of the stars fell out of orbit into the path of a planet
or a star, the effects would be catastrophic."
 
"But what does that have to do with the Karrest?" one of the officers asked.
 
"When Karrest arrives at a new place, it's density would hypothetically be
enough to slightly alter the strings in that area of space. Depending on
it's proximity to other planets, it could alter the gravity of neighbouring
planets, which would be disasterous for any inhabitants. Because it has
not been documented so far, it would be safe to assume that the Karrest
have a way to determe precisely where each planet is in the system that
they want to live in, so that they do not disrupt the natural state of
things too much."
 
<nowiki>------</nowiki>
NRPG:
 
Finally, a scientific idea from me! I'll do something about exploring that
theory later on.
 
Sincerely yours,
Lt Meleah, Royal Scientific Advisor, HMS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet.
 
Melanie.
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: A Physical Sensation...</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 5-23-1997</h4>
 
SD: 90523.2155 CDT/0255 GMT (90524)<br>
MD: 1.1015<br>
Scene: Sickbay<br>
 
After having made a brief stop to her quarters to change, Mary made her way into
her office which was occupied at the moment with the presence of Dr. Dana
Scully. Dana smiled as Mary entered the room. Mary let out a sigh and dropped
into the chair in front of the CMO's desk.
 
"Can I get you something Dr. Mac? You don't look very well..." Dana trailed
off.
 
"Yes, please. Berry Punch. I've had a long night and a grueling mission
briefing. How are the staff physicals going?" Mary said and attempted a smile
as Dana handed her a cold cup of Berry Punch.
 
"Physicals are going well. I've done 10 so far this morning. Ferra and Torin
are scheduled for 1030. I thought you might like to do theirs personally, since
they are V.I.P. guests and members of LCDR Koreth's family." Dana asked as she
rumaged through pile of PADDs on the CMO's desk. She pulled out a datafile for
Ferra and Torin, which she handed to Mary.
 
"1030? That will be fine. They are V.I.P. guests and I don't imagine in their
last few months on Cait they received acceptable checkups. Would you get one of
the nurses to set up exam 1 for a full physical. Thanks, Dana, and please, call
me Mary." Mary said as she smiled at Dana.
 
Dana left the room, which gave Mary a few minutes to prepare herself before the
arrival of Ferra and Torin.
 
<nowiki>---------</nowiki><br>
Scene: Exam 1
 
Ferra was trying to get little Torin to set on the exam bed and not fuss, but
was having a hard time. Nurse Caine finally bribed the youngster into sitting
quietly with a piece of Bajoran Pull Candy. Ferra whispered a well-deserved
thank you to Caine, as Samantha stepped back to allow Mary to continue her
examination. Mary did a final sweep with her tricorder wand and correlated the
data.
 
"He has a slight upper-respiratory infection. I'll replicate the medication.
He should take this medication 3 times a day for 5 days and that should clear up
the infection before it can become a larger problem. It seems to be a strain of
the Caitan Hydrocephalic flu which is very common on Cait this time of the
year." Mary finished as she stepped towards the repicator.
 
"Computer. Replicate pharmaceutical #4335-8769 Zeta for Patient #3-667932TK.
Authorization Mackrenseklar Theta 2997 Blue." Mary said, reciting the number
from memory.
 
The replicator emitted a small whine as a bottle of gel-encapsulated pills
formed on the pad. Tornname and instructions for use were clearly marked on the
side of the bottle in blue, Federation script.
 
Mary handed the bottle to Ferra, who was holding Torin in her arms. "That's all
for today. I would like to see Torin in a week for a check-up. See you then."
Mary said, smiling at Ferra.
 
"Thank you, Doctor. I'll see that Roin takes these. Maybe we can get together
for a drink in the 10 forward sometime?" Ferra said.
 
"I would like that very much." Mary said.
 
"Have a nice day>" Ferra called out as she was leaving.
 
Mary sincerely doubted she was going to have a good day for some time to come...
 
<nowiki>_____________</nowiki><br>
NRPG:<br>
 
All: This will be last post until Monday! Have a great weekend, I know I will!
Mmmmmmmmm...Potato Salad... <insert Homer's drool here>.
 
Jason: I think we have a budding friendship between Ferra and Mary. One I plan
on continuing, As things get uglier in Mary's dreams, she's going to need a
confidante...
 
Andy: Thanks for being so prompt in your response to my request. Andrea's got
it all lined up for me to be my one true love, an Engineer. My posting, if
everything works out, will be DS12 in Blue Fleet. Hoorah!
 
Kristen: XO? Promotion or mutiny? ;) I was wondering if you plan on adding
Bios to your wonderful Feynman homepage. I noticed Krysa's, but no one elses.
Also, Oops! My character's rank and species seem to be missing... Just wanted
to let you know.
 
<nowiki>____________</nowiki><br>
Respectfully submitted,<br>
 
Ensign Mary Dana Mac(krenseklar), M.D.<br>
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleey<br>
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.<br>
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet<br>
Lieutenant Ha'Tila Molari<br>
Awaiting orders, SB ALPHA, Wolf 359<br>
David Williams<br>
drjekyll@softwareplus.net<br>
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA<br>
 
"The dream is still alive, The one of you an I,
And my heart keeps returning,
I couldn't let it die, No I knew it would survive,
The dream is still alive..."
--Wilson Phillips, "The Dream Is Still Alive"
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Heading Out</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 5-25-1997</h4>
 
Stardate: 90525.1314<br>
Scene: Holodeck<br>
 
Krysa sauntered toward the arch, enjoying the stares she got as she
went. It was rare that she got to play such a role and she was eating it
up. She had smiled at Zane when he suggested she should keep the outfit,
giving him a devilish glance.
 
She chuckled again when a seaman carrying a water harness across his
shoulder spun around, knocking another man in the head with one of the
buckets of water. The victim howled in rage, as water drenched his now
drooping hat. Yes, she would definitely have to keep this outfit.
 
The corridor of the FEYNMAN were not as crowded as the deck of the HMS
FEYNMAN, yet those that were passing by Holodeck 2 as they emerged
couldn't help but stop and stare at the spectacle walking past them.
 
Krysa was stopped in her tracks by a voice calling from behind her.
 
<I>
>"Commander... Commander Jenn!"<br>
 
>The OPs officer stopped and turned. "Yes, Commander?"<br>
 
>Trying with all his might not to lunge into her, Tarrant leaned up against the wall.<br>
 
>"Problems ?" asked Krysa with a hint of a smile.<br>
 
>"Please give me a moment." the CEO took a deep breath and straightened<br>
>up a bit, "If at all possible, I need to have my sister and nephew<br>
>assigned quarters for the duration of this mission."<br>
 
>An inquisitive look crossed her face, "Hmm, I remember seeing their<br>
>clearance to come aboard, but I don't remember anything about an<br>
>extended stay."<br>
 
>"My 'father' has managed to call in a few favors to ensure they'd be<br>
>removed from Cait. Needless to say the order should be in before we leave."<br>
</I>
 
"No problem, Tarrant." Krysa smiled. "You are lucky you caught me in a
good mood."
 
"Well, I had thought of waiting until after lunch," he said as the green
tinge from his skin began to fade slightly.
 
"Hmm," she said, raising her eyebrow, "Just make sure they have their
physicals on file with our new CMO before we depart."
 
"I will. Thank you."
 
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
MD: 1.1210<br>
 
Krysa sat at OPs thinking about their newest mission. She was a lot more
comfortable now that she was changed back into more appropriate dress
for a Starfleet Officers. But there was little for her to do at her
station other then basic operations at this point in their mission. She
looked up to see the young Ens. Nunlot sitting a short distance away at
a separate station.
 
She caught his eye, and motioned him to come and take her spot as she
moved to sit in the counselor's chair next to the Captain. He looked
down at her, "What's on your mind, Commander?"
 
"Well, I was wondering what is to stop Karrest from leaving as soon as
we arrive?" she asked.
 
"One small starship is not a threat to them."
 
"No," she said, "I realize that, but one ship can often be the start of
more coming."
 
"As in a scout."
 
Krysa nodded. "I was wondering if it might not be prudent to have a
friendship message broadcasting as we approach?"
 
Regards,<br>
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
OPs/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
 
NRPG: Sorry for the pathetic post. I've been uninspired the last couple
of days. Ah well. Hopefully, I'll get inspired before we get to Karrest
.. how long before that happens anyway, I know Mike's post said they
were in far reaches of our know space, so I figure it'll probably take a
few days.
 
Kristen
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: BrOT: Tactical</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 5-28-1997</h4>
 
SD 90528.0330(GMT)<br>
SLD 4.1830<br>
SCENE: Holodeck<br>
 
Maril tapped in the command to freeze the
test program and looked up at
Ensign Landers.
 
"Good job, Ensign," he said, saying it as if
it were neither a compliment nor a
reprimand. "Are you ready for the next section?"
 
Landers had stood up. "Yes, sir, I am
ready."
 
"Good. Computer, begin Bridge Officer's
Test, Section: Tactical."
 
For the third time in the test, the Feynman's
bridge was the location, although
this time it was Allard who Landers replaced.
 
"Captain," Landers called out, "we're
receiving a communication from a
scientific outpost on Celera VII."
 
"On screen," the holographic Zane said as he
and the fictional Maril stood up.
 
[This is Celera VII to any nearby Federation
ship. We require assistance.]
 
"Celera VII, this is the USS Feynman," Zane
replied to the call. "How do you
require this assistance?"
 
[We've been having unexplained seismic
activity. We need to evacuate some
of our people. A mobile sensor array might help
us in figuring out what's
wrong, too.]
 
"Very well, Celera VII, we'll be there in
less than an hour. Feynman out."
Zane signaled for the link to be cut. "Mr.
Jerran, plot a course for the Celera
system, Warp 9."
 
"Aye, sir."
 
Landers waited as the Feynman sped towards
"Celera VII". Almost fifty
minutes later, Jerran reported, "Sir, we've
reached the Celera system."
 
"Set a course for Celera VII and form a low
orbit around the planet."
 
As Landers looked down at his console, he
noticed a light flashing. "Captain, I
believe the outpost is hailing us."
 
"On screen." This time, no one stood up.
[Feynman, thank goodness you've
come! Our wounded are ready to be evacuated. We
just need you to lower your
shields.]
 
The last statement aroused a tiny bit of
suspicion in Landers, but he decided to
dismiss it once Zane ordered, "Make it so, Mr.
Landers."
 
As he lowered the shields, Landers noticed
several moving flashing points of
light.
 
"Captain!" he almost screamed. "Ferengi
Marauder at 027, mark 36. Another
at 196, mark 13. And a third at 143, mark 302!"
 
"Shields up!" Maril bellowed. Landers
initiated the command sequence, but as
he did, a shot from the first marauder scored,
shaking the bridge.
 
"Return fire, Mr. Landers," Zane ordered
without hesitation.
 
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer, USS Feynman,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
 
NRPG:
Kevin:Here's the tactical section. only the
command section after this.
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Straight Talk...</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 5-31-1997</h4>
 
SD 90531.2001 CDT/0101 GMT (90601)<br>
MD: 3.1930<br>
Scene: En route to 10FWD<br>
 
Mary was a little surprised when Meleah had asked her out to dinner.
Most of the others were friendly enough, but they seemed distant, like
they were afraid of her. *I guess what they say about first impressions
is true after all.* Mary thought to herself as she and Meleah walked down
Deck 10 towards its famous lounge.
 
As they were walking down the corridor, they came upon Krysa who was
dressed for a party. That's when Mary picked up on the noise coming from
down the hall. "Is there a party in 10 forward" Mary asked the others.
 
"I thought you knew. The Security department is throwing a bash for Mr.
Jonas. It's his 19th birthday and he'll be leaving off ALB soon." Meleah
answered.
 
Krysa laughed. "I have a feeling that J.C. was just a tad intimidated.
It's okay. All the senior staff are invited, but it's not required."
 
The trio entered a 10FWD in full party mode. Music was playing loudly in
the background and several couples were dancing on a makeshift dance
floor in the middle of the room. Most of the others were just mingling
and having a general good time.
 
"I'm going to go get us some drinks. Why don't you two find us a table."
Krysa said over the loud Klingon music.
 
Meleah repleid in the affirmative, and she and Mary got the last table in
the house. Krysa met Bat's eye and got three Ferengi Black Holes. She
carefully threaded her way back to the table. More than once she was
bumped into by dancing crewmembers.
 
<Time Passes. Other Posts inserted here>
<nowiki>-----------------</nowiki><br>
MD: 3.2307<br>
 
The trio had been in 10FWd for almost three hours. The music had died
down a little as they were serving pieces from a very large birthday
cake. As the girls were enjoying their cake, Rory Heywood came up to the
table.
 
"Care if I join you ladies?" Rory said.
 
"No, please. Sit." Krysa said as she motioned to the empty fourth chair.
Rory sat down and proceeded to engage Mary in conversation.
 
"Doctor, I know that this is your down time, but I thought that i might
mention that you haven't completed the required phaser range proficiency
test for Away Team Duty yet. I was wondering if you might want to join me
in the phaser range. It might make things easier for you to have
company..." Rory realized he was babbling and trailed off.
 
"That would be a welcome idea. How about 1600 hours tomorrow afternoon?
Right after my shift." Mary replied. She was in the best mood she had
been in days. It must be the 6 Black Holes she had consumed.
 
"That would be great. If its not too forward. I was wondering if I
might have this next dance." Rory asked, nervously. He had heard of the
Doctor's reputation for violence in the holodeck. The music had slowed
to a slow Vulcan etude, perfect for a slow dance.
 
Mary wondered if it was a good idea. She felt awkward and nervous, but
finally decided to give a try. She got up and Rory extended his hand.
She nervously took it and he wheeled her out onto the dance floor. Rory,
it seemed, was an excellent dancer. They glided up and down the dance
floor ad Meleah and Krysa exchanged surprised looks.
 
The other couples moved off the dance floor to give them room to dance.
Everyone's eyes were on mary and Rory...
 
----------
NRPG:
 
All: It would seem that the Black Holes have had a positive effect on
Mary.... The song "I Could Have Danced All Night" kept rotating in my
head as I wrote this. This looks like a party to end all parties. I
can't wait to see what everyone else comes up with for the party.
 
Mike: Rory might not want to go any further than dancing. Mary has
dropped part of her guard, but not all of it.....
 
Until next time.....
 
Respectfully submitted,
 
Lieutenant Ha'Tila Molari<br>
CEO, DEEP SPACE 12, Blue Fleet<br>
Ensign Mary Dana Mac(krenseklar), M.D.<br>
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.<br>
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet<br>
David Williams<br>
asr@mindless.com<br>
drjekyll@softwareplus.net<br>
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA<br>
 
"The dream is still alive, The one of you an I,
And my heart keeps returning,
I couldn't let it die, No I knew it would survive,
The dream is still alive..."
--Wilson Phillips, "The Dream Is Still Alive"
 
<nowiki>-------------------==== Posted via Deja News ====-----------------------</nowiki><br>
http://www.dejanews.com/ Search, Read, Post to Usenet
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Range Games</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 5-31-1997</h4>
 
SD 90531.1647 CDT/2147 GMT<br>
MD: 4.1610<br>
Scene: Sickbay<br>
 
Rory Heywood stepped into sickbay just as Mary was finishing Commander
Maril's physical. Maril was just putting his pips back on his collar when
Rory stepped forward.
 
"Mr Heywood. Right on time. I'll be ready to go in a minute. I just
have a few things to finish. Would you please wait in my office?" Mary
said turning her attention from the Tamarien that sat before her.
 
"Yes Ma'am" was the only response Rory gave before disappearing into the
nether regions of Mary's office.
 
"Before you go Commander. May I aks you a question?" Mary asked as she
handed her XO a PADD with his phyiscal information on it
 
"Certainly Doctor. What is it that you'd like to know?" Maril said,
curiously.
 
"I am familiar with your native language, and I noticed that Captain Zane
mentions phrase often. But the phrases he quotes are often mistranslated
or misidentified. Why is that?" Mary wondered.
 
All Maril did was chuckle and walk out of sickbay. Mary wondered if it
was some private joke. She didn't have much time to ponder, because she
had a strapping aCSO waiting in her office.
 
Dr. Hibbert and Rory were engaged in an amusing conversation when Mary
entered the office. Dana had already left for the day, and Mary had
worked past her shift to conclude Maril's physical. Mary gathered her
stuff as they finished they're conversation.
 
"Are you ready Doctor?" Heywood asked. *I wonder how good she'll be.
Everything I've ever heard about Orion females paints them as nothing but
sex objects. I wonder if she'll even pass...* Rory thought to himself.
 
Mary answered in the affirmative as she strapped on a Bajoran Type-II-U
Phaser to her hip. Rory looked at the ovpowerfully upgraded phaser and
wondered what a sex object would need with a security-issue phaser.
 
<nowiki>------</nowiki><br>
Scene: Just outside the Phaser Range<br>
 
Mary and Rory exited the phaser range and waited while the computer
tabulated their score. Rory was in complete disbelief. *She was like a
Marclosian Wind Devil. How could anyone move that fast. I don't even
want to know....* Rory finally decided.
 
Rory just stood there in shock as the computer displayed the averages of
the three completed levels.
 
"Computer, display range scores"
 
The requested information scrolled across the screen.
 
<nowiki>-----------------------------------</nowiki><br>
Phaser Range Levels 1-3 completed
 
Scores:
 
Rory Heywood
Assistant Chief Security Officer
Training Level: Expert
Score: 92%
 
Mary D. Mackrenseklar
Chief Medical Officer
Training Level: Above Expert
Score: 97%<br>
<nowiki>------------------------------------</nowiki><br>
 
Rory looked very pleased at his score and then wondered if the Doctor
might want to join the Security team.
 
"Does that satisfy the Away Team requirements, Mr. Heywood?" Mary asked.
 
"Quite" was all that Rory Heywood could manage to say.
 
<nowiki>----------------------------</nowiki><br>
NRPG:<br>
 
All: Rematch anyone? As described in Mary's bio, she is quite the
little markswoman. Is the Bajoran Phaser acceptable for personal use on
Away Team mission or will a Starfleet Type-II-B Phaser be required? The
next post should be sometime later this evening, not to mention the one
for DS12 that still has to be written. Jeez, take a few days off to go
to the Hospital and the work just piles up on ya. <VBG>
 
Mike: Sorry if this makes J.C. depressed. Maybe he'd like to practice
with Mary sometime? <G>
 
Melanie: Dinner date and the requisite party are next.
 
Respectfully submitted,
 
Lieutenant Ha'Tila Molari<br>
CEO, DEEP SPACE 12, Blue Fleet<br>
Ensign Mary Dana Mac(krenseklar), M.D.<br>
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.<br>
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet<br>
David Williams<br>
asr@mindless.com<br>
drjekyll@softwareplus.net<br>
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA<br>
 
<nowiki>-------------------==== Posted via Deja News ====-----------------------</nowiki><br>
http://www.dejanews.com/ Search, Read, Post to Usenet
 
 
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: A Deep Secret...</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 5-31-1997</h4>
 
SD 90531.1250 CDT/ 1750 GMT<br>
MD: Late Evening on Day 1<br>
Scene: The corridor outside 10FWD<br>
 
Mary and Loren walked down the corridor with very little being said.
Loren began to get distinct impressions from her that she was hiding
something, something she was struggling to tell him about. Loren waited
patiently as he walked beside Mary, waitng for her to make her move.
 
Mary couldn't do it. *I want to tell him, but I can't. Or can I? I
can't simply tell him out here in the open. But, where?* Mary thought
to herself. Mary spotted a storage room. As they got close to it, Mary
opened the door and pulled Loren into the room with her.
 
Loren was surprised to say the least. "What are you doing, Doctor?" was
all that Loren could sputter.
 
"I have something to tell you. Something I couldn't say in the corridor."
Mary said, apprehensive about telling him of her nightmares.
 
"Go on, please. Take all the time you need." Loren said as he luickly
shifted gears from surprise to sympathy.
 
"I use my gruffness as a shield, particularly with men. I'm sure you are
familiar with my psychological profile. That is why I feel I can talk to
you about this. I have been having nightmares for the last two nights.
But they aren't nightmares, at least not in the traditional sense. We
have a name for these kinds of dreams on Orion, Poji. Poji aren't really
dreams, but conduits by which to kill the sleeping. I think I'm being
stalked by someone in my dreams. Someone who knows me very, very
well..." Mary trailed off, noticing the faint disbelief on Loren's face.
 
Mary unhooked the top part of her dress, showing Loren the five,
distinctive bruises on her neck. Bruises that couldn't be mistaken for
anything else than fingermarks. Loren's eyes became saucers, as he
started to believe the Mary's story.
 
<Loren's response>
 
<nowiki>-------------------</nowiki><br>
NRPG:<br>
 
All: This is just one of many posts today. Sorry this one was short,
but I didn't want to write the counselor's reaction.
 
Kevin: Your description of Mary was a little gruff, but know you now
why. <G> Thnaks for adding a perspective on the character I hadn't
thought of. Thanks for dropping me a note about my ordeal. It was
greatly appreciated.
 
Melanie: Mary and Meleah's dinner date will be following shortly. I'm
sure they'll have a lot to talk about, expecially if there's a party.
 
Mike: Break out the phasers, it's range scoring time. Post will follow
shortly.
 
<nowiki>-----------</nowiki><br>
Respectfully submitted,<br>
 
Lieutenant Ha'Tila Molari<br>
CEO, DEEP SPACE 12, Blue Fleet<br>
Ensign Mary Dana Mac(krenseklar), M.D.<br>
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.<br>
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet<br>
David Williams<br>
asr@mindless.com<br>
drjekyll@softwareplus.net<br>
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA<br>
 
"The dream is still alive, The one of you an I,
And my heart keeps returning,
I couldn't let it die, No I knew it would survive,
The dream is still alive..."
--Wilson Phillips, "The Dream Is Still Alive"
 
<nowiki>-------------------==== Posted via Deja News ====-----------------------</nowiki><br>
http://www.dejanews.com/ Search, Read, Post to Usenet
MDailey
5,514

edits

Retrieved from "http://boi.alt-starfleet-rpg.com/Special:MobileDiff/36912...36980"