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Kristen
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<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Logs of Fire or ON Fire?</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 6-2-1997</h4>
SD: 90602.0030
MD: 3.0730
SCENE - CSO's quarters - cabin 735, Deck 7
<Ship's Time is 0730 hrs.>
"Mrrfff." A pillow went airborne and landed a few meters from the bed.
<Ship's time is 0731 hrs.>
"RRFF!" J.C. found some energy to sit upright in bed, immediately regretting
the act as the room started to spin faster than warp 10.
<Ship's time....>
"COMPUTER! Belay than bloody noise!!"
<Acnkowledged. Alarm halted. You have three new mail messages pending.>
Last night's 'birthday and graduation party' for Cadet, and soon to be
Ensign Shane Hensley had lasted well through the morning hours. Most of
the entire Security Department had attended, save those on GAMMA shift.
Even SCPO T'boc had wandered in with amused interest, (for a Vulcan).
Mr. Rory Heywood, the aCSO and newest addition to the FEYNMAN Security
department, had fit right in with the group, as though he had been on
the ship for quite some time, instead of a ripe-green Ensign. Like every
social function, someone had 'acquired' some non-synthahol contraband and
found it's way to everyone's cups.
Between J.C. and Bat's personal stocks, there was enough to keep the
respective cups quite full. J.C. struggled to climb out of bed, realizing
how often his cup had been refilled over the course of the party.
Somehow the CSO maneuvered over to head, and after tending to necessities,
rested his face against the replicator.
"Grif me a ashtiner burf..." mumbled J.C.
<Selection not valid, please repeat your request.>
A deep breath... followed by another. "I SAID..." immediately regretting
raising his voice... "give me an antimatter mixer". It was a concoction he
had become great friends with during the Academy. Tasted like orange juice,
but was concentrated vitamins B1 and C. Rumor had it Antimatter mixers were
more popular with Cadets than the old standby coffee.
The drink fizzled into existence, and J.C. quenched his dry throat, downing the
entire cupfull in a few gulps.
Following a soothing sonic shower, and sporting a fresh clean uniform, J.C. felt
much better, though the pounding in his head still continued, he pictured meeting
the new CMO... * "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Mackrenseklar. Can I have a hangover
suppressant?" He laughed at the thought, and checked the chrono... 0750. Ten
minutes until APLHA. He would have time to skim through his mail. Parking himself
at his desk, J.C. accessed the shipwide mail server. He had heard Engineering
bragging about the recent installation of a new, SUPPOSEDLY faster server... which
he would believe such when he seen it.
The first was a query from 'fleet Command about the MARK-VI upgrades. Forward that
to T'Boc. The second was from his Grandmother, Cdr. Isabel Allard on DS-5, he flagged
that one to read later. The next was from the ship's XO, Commander Maril.
<I>
<nowiki>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Begin Message>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>></nowiki><br>
> To: All Senior Officers, USS Feynman
> From: Commander Onta Maril, Executive Officer, USS Feynman
> Subject: Upcoming Away Team Assignments
>
> Tomorrow, at 0800 hours, the following members of
> the senior staff will beam down to the surface of Karrest, as
> close as possible without arousing the Karrestians' suspicion
> to what appears to be their main city on the northern
> continent:
>
> Commander Onta Maril
> Lt. Commander Krysa Jenn
> Lt. Jerran Terel
> Lt.(jg) Loren Landers
>
> In addition, two science officers and two engineering officers
> other than Lt. Meleah and Lt. Commander Koreth will acompany the
> away team.
>
> All members of the away team will be surgically altered to resemble
> the Karrestians and communicators will be implanted outside each
> member's ears. Phasers will not be allowed on the away team.
> Tricorders, if hidden well, will be allowed.
>
> We will attempt to ascertain the actual level of Karrestian technology.
> As well as a physical disguise, we will assume the guise of a
> traveling performing troupe. I will be in charge of the troupe.
> Every member of the away team should attempt to create as thorough a
> character as possible.
>
> There will be a meeting of the away team members and Captain Zane at 0700
> hours in the Observation Lounge tomorrow to coordinate the away team before
> we beam down at 0800.
>
> Commander Onta Maril
> Executive Officer, USS Feynman, NCC-66000
<nowiki>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>End Message>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>></nowiki><br>
</I>
J.C. blinked a few times, and reread the message again, his mouth agape in shock.
He could understand Maril's no-phaser order. Actually, he would have given the
same order to his men, if a phaser were to fall into native hands... besides, they
could be beamed back up in a snap with transponders installed.
What shocked him was the XO's failure to include any security personnel... totally
disregarding regulations and compromising the safety and security of the Away Team.
*That's not like Maril. The old Tamarian is usually sharper than he appears.*
"Computer, call up the Reg's on Away Team minimum compliment."
<Working... Search completed.>
[Section 2-3002
...unless circumstances dictate otherwise, an Away Team shall be directed by the
ship's Senior Officers, other than the Captain. In addition, it will be composed of
one Security Officer and a minimum of two (2) Command Specialists, specific to the
nature of the mission, and at least one Medical, Cultural, or Science officer. This
is the minimum personnel compliment of an Away Team under regulations.]
Both the XO and Zane knew how serious J.C. was when it came to the safety of the
crew. *Damnit! They're just asking for something to happen*.
"Computer, access duty log..."
<Working.>
"Chief Security Officer's log, SD 90602. Regarding our upcoming mission plan
and Away Team assignments. Orders received, understood, and acknowledged.
I am gravely concerned with the lack of security personnel assigned to this
mission. Starfleet has lost TOO many good people recently, and I don't wish to
add any of the FEYNMAN's names to that list. I fully realize there are risks
involved in deep-space duty. Everyone is aware of that when you accept your
commission. However, when accidents can be prevented, there's no excuse.
I state in the duty log I am concerned with Commander Maril's not following
regulations (ref. 2-3002.1) and disagree with the choice as not to include a
single Security trooper in this mission. In my judgement, this put the Away
team in an unnecessary and avoidable risk.
I realize that any formal challenge to an order in the logs will result in
an inquiry when we return to port, and I am fully prepare to support my position
in this matter.
End log."
<Log closed.> J.C. rose from his chair, and made his way to the the bridge,
preparing for the hot water he had started to boil. He wondered what the
rest of the day would be like.
"Allard to Ens. Heywood".
[Heywood here, Sair.]
"Meet me on the bridge in five minutes. I want to run you through some
simulations at TAC."
"Aye aye, Sair." he wondered if Rory's hangover was as profound as his
own.
*Wow, what a way to start a day...* as the doors snapped shut being the CSO.
Submitted,
Mike Dailey
splatter2@qtm.net
<nowiki>********
* NRPG *
********</nowiki>
Greetings all... J.C.'s been too good for a while, time to stir up a wee bit
o' trouble... Have fun!
as always,
Cheers!
Mike
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