USS Feynman JUN 1997

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U.S.S. FEYNMAN NCC-66000
June 1997 Posts

TOTAL MAY 1997 POSTS: *TBD*

• USS FEYNMAN Main Page

• Stardate Keys

GRAND TOTAL POSTS: 847

Posts By Each Year

• 1996 Posts - 642 Posts
  
• 1997 Posts - 205 (Jan-Sept) Posts
  
• 1998 Posts - TBD Posts
  
• 1999 Posts - TBD Posts
  

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USS FEYNMAN: Dr. Mental

by Kevin Thigpen 6-1-1997

Stardate: 90601.1345
Scene: Corridor outside 10-F

Mary strolled through the corridors of the FEYNMAN headed for of all places 10-F. The counselor's message had said to meet him there at 1800. To say the least she was not pleased that this eval was cutting into her own personal time, but even the ship's doctor couldn't refuse a psychological evaluation.

Every crewmember she passed could see the dark mood emanating from her noticeable frown. A few brave adventuresome males let their stare pass over her dark facial expression and on to the more pleasing shape of her legs and hips. Some let their stare stray too long.

"Is there a problem crewman?" barked Mary at a young dark-haired CPO who made the mistake of thinking if he stared long enough he'd 'pick up' the attractive doctor. Obviously the poor fellow had not heard about her...yet.

"Uhh..no maam," replied the man aware that he was stepping off into more than he bargained for.

"Good. Now get out of my way," Mary stated crisply. The CPO relaxed once she had passed. After rounding the bend, Mary could hear, "You're lucky Davis, that's the new doctor. I hear she..."

Mary stopped paying attention, but smiled. Already, she was letting these people know she was no pushover.

-------------
Scene: 10-F

Loren looked up to see Dr. Mac walk in the doors. Already the place was bustling with activity. People milled about, drinking, talking and fraternizing. That is people except Dr. Mac. She made a beeline for Loren.

"Dr. Mary Mackrenseklar reporting as ordered, sir!"

Mary's tone of voice had an edge that Loren didn't have to be a telepath to detect. "Sit, doctor. I assure you this won't take long."

Mary looked threatened for a second before slipping into the seat opposite Loren. Already, she was attracting stares from the off-duty male crewman. Lots of stares.

"Sir, may I make a statement, sir?"

"Go ahead doctor, and please call me sir."

"Counselor, I do not believe that this is best place to conduct the evaluation."

"What makes you say that?"

"A pysche evaluation is meant to be confidential between the examiner and subject. Even us doctors are aware of that."

Mary's voice had taken an accusatory tone. "I'm aware of that doctor, but I'm also aware of the fact that I've said nothing about asking you anything confidential. If there is something you want to say though feel free."

Mary remained quiet for a moment. These damned psychologists made her so angry with their careful wording of questions meant to entrap people. She would beat him though by being quiet. Give him nothing to build on.

"Doctor, let's go for a walk," stated Loren after a full minute of uncomfortable silence.

The two officers got up and left through the double doors of ten-forward with the constant stares of several crewman at their backs.

Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
Lt(jg) Loren Landers
USS FEYNMAN CNS

[NRPG: David, take it away. I had to set up the scene for the little evaluation. Loren is determined to make the good doctor talk. Also, I hope that I did not mis-represent your character. Now it's your turn. :)]

**************************************************************************
"The computer allows one to make mistakes faster than any other invention*
aside from possibly handguns and Tequila." *
--Mitch Ratcliffe *
**************************************************************************

USS FEYNMAN: Tell Me a Tale

by Kristen Gant 6-1-1997

Stardate: 90601.1416
Scene: 10-Forward
MD: 3.1700

Ferra had only turned back to the window a few moments before another figure approached her table.

"Hello," the smooth voice said.

She turned to see the dark wavy hair of the FEYNMAN's Operations officer. "Krysa, right?" she asked with a smile.

Krysa grinned, "Right. I take it Tarrant has been talking? Filling you in on all the dirt about our crew."

"Only nice things, of course." Ferra insisted.

"Of course," Krysa chuckled. She motioned to an empty chair at Ferra's table, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"No, please do."

Krysa laid a hand on the back of the chair, pulling it out as she turned to turn and inquisitive eye on the FEYNMAN's 10-Forward host, "What's on the menu this evening?"

Bat's eyes lit up, "Oh my dear, do I have something special for you tonight."

"What?" Krysa asked settling into the chair.

"Now if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise." Bat said, stubbornly refusing to say anything more. He nodded to Ferra and headed out to get his 'special' for the night.

"When Tarrant told me you were staying for a bit, I just knew I had to come and chat with you." Krysa said a gleam in her eye. "I've known him for well over a year now, and I still can't get him to talk about himself very much."

"Now that definitely sounds like my brother." Ferra laughed. "I'm sure I can fill you in on anything you might like to hear."

Krysa grinned, "I was hoping you might say that. I'm sure my siblings would be more then willing to spread the word on me, given the opportunity."

Regards,
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN
***
NRPG: Just a short one to give Jason a chance to give us the dirt on Tarrant's childhood. I'll post more about when we get to Karrest once Max assigns an away team :}

Kristen

USS FEYNMAN: This Is Fun?

by Kristen Gant 6-1-1997

Stardate: 90601.1203
Scene: Krysa's Quarters
MD: 3.1925

Krysa spun in the mirror one last time, grinning at the reflection. They hadn't gotten any shore leave since their last mission into the coalsack, but at least the crew was getting some relaxation! And she was taking advantage of all of it.

Despite the events on Cait and the ejection of Starfleet from Epsilon, life on the FEYNMAN was good .. people were happy .. and it seemed that many of the trials the FEYNMAN seemed so good at getting caught up in were gone. With the start up of Zinderneuf, Dee was out of there hair, and somebody else's problem entirely. The crew seemed to be settling in nicely and despite her reservations about Dr. Mac, Krysa was sure she would still fit in. She was never one to base an opinion solely on first impressions.

She headed out of her quarters and down the corridor to a turbolift .. and then on to the party in 10-Forward!

***
Scene: 10-Forward
MD: 4.0300

Krysa collapsed in a chair, "I think I'm plain wore out." Her giggle was tinged a bit by the number of drinks she'd had throughout the evening. She smiled at white-haired CSO with the bright blue eyes, "JC, we should have parties like this more often."

"I'm with you, Krysa!" he grinned, "Though I've no doubt I'll regret it in the morning."

"Not me .." Krysa waved his concerns away. "My metobismm .. metotapsmmm .. umm..."

"I know what you mean," Rory chuckled from the other side of the table.

"Metabolism," Meleah said clearly, her eyes watching her crewmen closely.

Krysa clapped her hands, "That's right! What she said .." She brushed her hands through her hair and stretched slightly, "But now .. I think it's time to turn in .."

"Already! .. Don't go already!" JC begged.

"I have to .. and so should you," Krysa chided. "Fun is important," She said as she stood up, holding tightly to her chair, " But as ship's counselor, I have to tell you .."

"Krysa .." Meleah interrupted. "You are not ship's counselor."

Krysa looked at her and frowned, "That's right, I'd almost forgot .." A broad grin crossed her face, "I got promoted .. so .." she winked, ".. I'll let Loren give you all the .." she waved her hand dismissively, ".. whatever .. I'm going to bed!" She spun around and let go of them chair nearly falling over the Ship's bartender as he stepped up behind her.

"Whoa .." He said, helping her to remain standing, "Do you need an escort home?"

She smiled at him, "I'm a big girl, Bat. I can get myself home .."

He chuckled, "Of course, I just thought you might like some company."

She raised an eyebrow, "Now, now .. you wouldn't be probo .. proper .. zitioning me .." She looked at him questioningly, ".. would you?"

He sighed, "If I were a few years younger .."

She smiled, "You're only as old as you feel .." Her eyes drooped and she stifled a yawn that threatened to come out. She sighed, ".. I feel very .. old .. right now."

"Just tired, my dear." He chuckled.

"I could take her home," JC volunteered gallantly.

Bat threw a look at the CSO, "Not that I don't trust you, but .. maybe Meleah would be a better choice."

Krysa gave them both offended looks. Brushing her hair back from her eyes once again and sniffing loudly, she straightened herself up, "I don't need an escort, thankyouverymuch! I'll be fine." She walked slowly toward the door and stepped out into the hall, leaving the others watching her as she went.

Once outside, she leaned a hand again the corridor wall.

"Commander Jenn?" she heard a voice behind her. She turned to see Janine Garret moving toward her. "Are you all right?"

Krysa nodded, "Yes." The she motioned her closer, "Come here." When Janine was near enough Krysa grabbed her arm, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to walk one very old and tired woman to her quarters."

Janine chuckled, "I take it Bat broke out the real stuff again."

Krysa nodded miserably. With a smile the Beta-OPS nodded. "Guess it's a good thing I was working late."

Krysa agreed.

***
Scene: Observation Lounge
MD 11.0700

Stepping into the Observation Lounge, Krysa moved to a chair and pulled it out. She sat down comfortably. The soft brown, cotton leotard was definitely the most comfortable costume she'd ever worn. It had to be for a practicing tumbler. Over the long, one piece leotard she wore a forest green skirt and blouse which moved freely. Definitely very comfortable.

Zane walked in and nodded appreciatively. "Dr. Mac did an excellent job. You should fit in well."

She grinned, "I just hope we don't have to preform! Do you know how long it's been since I've done any real tumbling?"

"But I've heard you were very good."

She chuckled, "Yes, I suppose for while, I was."

Regards,
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN
***
NRPG: Well, it's not often Krysa just lets loose .. well okay so maybe it's more frequent then I like to admit <G>. Anyway that was kinda fun.

One thing I think we need to be really careful about is our Mission Dates. Notice that the party was on day 3. The away team wasn't assigned until day 10 and the beam down day is on day 11. So I imagine day 4 -9 were recuperation days and more relaxation, etc <G>

Kristen

USS FEYNMAN: Logs of Fire or ON Fire?

by Michael "Mike" Dailey 6-2-1997

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.

> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Begin Message>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>End Message>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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

******** * NRPG * ********

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

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
= Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard CSO USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG =
+ Lt. [Dr.] D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - UNASSIGNED SILVER FLEET +
= Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny CNS USS BURKE GREEN FLEET =
+ Lcdr. Ion Steiner L.C. SFDITF TEAM ALPHA-1 SFDITF +
= Capt. Johan Bauer COMSFDITF "All I ask is a tall ship..." =
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

USS FEYNMAN: Traveling Music

by Kristen Gant 6-4-1997

Stardate: 90604.1320
Scene: Observation Lounge
MD: 11.0800

But for every answer it provided it left many more questions. "So we may have some sort of psychic stalker aboard. Counselor can you sense anything?"

"No sir."

Krysa cleared her mind also searching for any unfamiliar emotional signatures. She frowned, realizing how out of practice she was. Since her unintentional emotional probing of the Captain's mind, she'd been much more closed. Besides she was no longer the Ship's Counselor and the emotional well-being of the crew now belonged to Loren, who was a much stronger telepath, not having the handicaps that Krysa did. In any case, she could sense nothing unusual either.

She refocused on current events as the Captain spoke once again to the Counselor.

"Then I think you best remain on the away team. I hesitate to send you down if we do indeed have some sort of psychic stalker aboard but you not being down there could be a serious detriment to the mission. And if you haven't sensed anything in 9 days chances are you may not." He turned to Maril. "No commander, continue as planned. You have your problem and unfortunately we seem to have ours. Just be careful."

"Aye sir." Maril followed the rest of the group into the port turbolift and Zane headed for the starboard one. "Sickbay." He hoped there would be some answers.

Krysa walked up beside Loren as they stepped into the turbolift, "That's why you're feeling a little out of sorts, isn't it?"

He nodded, "I couldn't find any reason for her nightmares .. I couldn't sense any unfamiliar presence .. and she told me the nightmares stopped."

Krysa nodded, "Apparently they've started up again."

Loren frowned and nodded.

Onta looked back at the two sternly. "Right now it's none of your concern. I need to have both of you focusing on the mission at hand."

Krysa nodded, "You're right, Commander. I apologize." But all of them continued to worry about the new CMO and what would happen on the Ship while they were down on the planet's surface.

***
MD: 11.0830
Scene: Dirt road, somewhere on the Northern continent of Karrest

The 10 Carnival performers appeared alone side of a dusty road. Krysa wrinkled her nose, "It would have to the dry season wouldn't it."

Jerran shrugged, "I was just thinking it rather humid."

Krysa rolled her eyes, "You would."

Dunnon pulled out one of the disguised tricorders, "According to this the town is just beyond that forest up ahead."

Krysa nodded and looked gratefully at wooded area ahead, "Ah, shade." She immediately began to head in that direction with the others following her closely. "Mr. Turner," she called back, "We are supposed to be a band of merry-makers .. How about some traveling music."

The blonde man grinned broadly, "I'd be delighted." He pulled out his flute and began to play a lilting tune as the away team headed toward the town.

Regards,
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN

USS FEYNMAN: Blurred Images

by David Williams 6-5-1997

SD 90605.1431 CDT/ 1931 GMT
MD: 11.0830
Scene: Sickbay Trauma Unit

Mary looked up from the bed into the eyes of Dana Scully. The doctor's sweet blue eyes looked back at her.

"Good, you're awake. How do you feel?" Dana asked.

"Where's security. I must speak to them immediately." Mary said, trying to sit up, but she was still weak from the blood loss. Mary quickly laid back on the bed.

"Mr Heywood is standing by outside. I'll get him" Dana turned to walk out of the room. The pain Mary had felt in her stomach was gone. She looked down to see bare skin. Dana had done a good job. Mary had just put her head back down on the pillow when Rory Heywood stepped into the room.

"Dr. Scully said you wanted to see me. Are you ok?" Rory said, trying to be as upbeat as possible, but he had heard what happened in the observation lounge.

"Yes. I know who you are looking for. Was Dr. Chavez just in here to be treated?" Mary asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"As a matter of fact he was. He had a gash on his arm. He said he had a minor accident in his quarters. Wait a minute, are you saying he's the one who attacked you?" Rory said, amazed at the prospect that a Starfleet officer could be capable of such carnage.

"Yes. I was able to resist him more in the dream. He tried to appear as someone from my past, someone I would rather not talk about. But with the technique that Counselor Landers showed me I was able to combat his deception. I was able to cut him pretty badly on his arm before he got me across the stomach and the link broke.... That's all I remember. I woke here in sickbay next." Mary said.

Rory slapped his communicator. "Heywood to all Security Personnel. APB on Dr. Rolf Chavez. He should be considered armed and dangerous. Heywood out." "How do you feel, Mary?" Rory asked

"A little weak, but other than that I feel fine. Could you help me up." Mary asked. Her slashed uniform lain on a nearby chair. Rory helped Mary sit up and stand.

"Let me replicate you a new uniform." Rory said as he picked up her old uniform and placed it in the disintegrator. He waked over the medical replicator. "One uniform. Personal record: Dr. Mary Mackrenseklar." A uniform in the proper size appeared. Rory handed the uniform to Mary and turned to leave when his communicator beeped.

[T'Boc to Heywood please respond.] said the flat and emotionless voice of T'Boc.

"Yes, T'Boc." Rory responded as the doors to the trauma unit opened.

[I am in Dr. Chavez's quarters. We found the body of Nurse Swann in the closet. She has been strangled to death. Dr. Chavez's communicator was found on the floor of his bedroom, but he himself is gone."] T'Boc gave his report as if commenting on the weather.

Mary gasped audibly. "Begin a level-one search. I'm going to notify Lt. Allard. Heywood out." Heywood quickly walked out of the room....

----------------
NRPG:

All: Break out the phasers and call for general quarters, the chase is on!

Mike: It's in Allard's court now!

Respectfully submitted,

Lieutenant Commander J'ran Belar
Awaiting orders, SB AQUARIUS, Meridian Fleet
Lieutenant Ha'Tila Molari
CEO, DEEP SPACE 12, Blue Fleet
Ensign Mary Dana Mac(krenseklar), M.D.
CMO, USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet
Ensign Henry Elias Jekyll, Ph.D.
CSCI, USS HERMES, Red Fleet
David Williams
asr@mindless.com
drjekyll@softwareplus.net
Sallisaw, Oklahoma, USA

"Get down off the cross, honey. Somebody needs the wood." --Dr. Shirlee Kenyon (Dolly Parton), "Straight Talk"

---

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USS FEYNMAN: Encounters

by Kevin Thigpen 6-1-1997

Stardate: 90604.2337
Scene: Karrestrian soil
MD: 11.0815

Loren looked around briefly at the surroundings. All that was in sight was mostly rock and dust with the occasional tree perched on an outcropping of more rock on a hillside. To the north lay the intensely wooded area that Krysa suggested the group head for. The beam down area lacked quite a bit as far as aesthetics were concerned, but the shade of the forest ahead looked very inviting.

Suddenly, Loren got the familiar feeling of a mind other than those of the away team approaching. He almost missed the old feeling of another's emotions impinging on the fabric of his mind due to the lilting tranquil music being played by Turner.

Tapping Maril on the shoulder, Loren moved closer to whisper to him, "There's a group of people coming up over the ridge." Loren gestured to the west at a nearby hillock. "I can't tell how many, but it's definitely more than four and they're very nervous about something."

Maril nodded in ascension to Loren's statement. Bringing the group to a halt he quickly and quietly shared this information with the others.

Slowly a cart being pulled by a large shaggy quadruped creature with no obvious eyes anywhere on its body, came into view. Within the course of twenty minutes the away team could see that this cart was only the first of eight. After another ten minutes, the lead cart driver reined his animal in to stop within a few feet of the away team.

"I say! What've here!" exclaimed the lead driver reaching carefully between his legs under the board that served as a seat on his cart.

Maril made a move forward to greet the Karrestrian and the damp, musty smell of the beast of burden at the front of the cart assailed his nostrils. The man in the driver's seat shifted nervously but remained relatively still.

Maril introduced himself and the others in his traveling entertainment troupe to Javon M'Gundy. M'Gundy as soon as he was convinced that Maril spoke the truth became immediately more jovial. "I say. You and your people must definitely have come a long way. I think the nearest town to the south from here is at least fifty mila and then some. Not to say that you're traveling on foot."

"We've heard of a city near here. I take it that's where you're from?" posed Maril.

"That you're right. I leading this convoy back to Torus. What I'm carrying I can't say, but I can give you this advice. Get in the city before nightfall. People's been disappearing around these parts lots lately especially up ahead," M'Gundy gestured toward the forest to the north.

"I appreciate the concern kind sir," added Maril as M'Gundy flicked the reins of his animal. The wagon had already begun to lurch forward when M'Gundy called out again, "The guards might give you a hard time, but a few pria will definitely bring 'em around."

After the wagons and M'Gundy were out of sight, Maril noticed Loren shivering slightly. "Mr. Landers?"

"Sir, he was deathly afraid when he mentioned the city up ahead. I can't tell whether it's directed at the city or the forest up ahead, but he was really afraid and nervous about something."

Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
Lt(jg) Loren Landers
USS FEYNMAN CNS

[NRPG: Well, the game's afoot now. I didn't put too much details into this one, because you guys are so much better at it than I. I did put a little cliffhanger in there though. I wonder what it is that's wandering the land preying on innocent Karrestrians.

Some technical notes: a mila is a little under a mile. Haven't really decided how much a pria is....one of the details I leave to you guys :).]

**************************************************************************
"The computer allows one to make mistakes faster than any other invention*
aside from possibly handguns and Tequila." *
--Mitch Ratcliffe *
**************************************************************************

USS FEYNMAN: A Rabbit's Duty

by Kevin Thigpen 6-14-1997

Stardate: 90614.1916
Scene: Forest on Karrest
MD: 11.1015

Loren looked quietly at the readings that the engineering techs were getting with the tricorders. Jerran, Krysa, and Maril being far more technical minded than he poured over the readings with incredulous looks.

Loren concentrated more on the impressions he was receiving from all around him. There was no life that he could detect anywhere in the forest other than the away team. But then he realized what was happening. Slowly but surely, he could hear it now.

Voices were drifting through the trees to him. *Psychic residues* he thought. He could feel that time was changing all around him, going backwards to times ancient to this planet. Then like a slap in the face it all washed over him. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. There was nothing gradual about what was happening. While falling down a deep, dark hole he saw...

***
They looked like eight foot tall Terran rabbits, hind legs and all, except that some darkened bowl covered what appeared to be their heads. They were in the forest right in front of Loren. The rest of the away team was still talking about their readings hunched over with the engineering techs looking at their tricorders. *Why can't they see this?* thought Loren before one the creatures right in front of him spoke.

The creatures were about a head or two taller than Loren and their skin seemed to glisten in the light. Then, Loren realized it was armor of some kind because their necks or what passed for their necks was much furrier than the shiny smooth skin that covered the rest of their bodies.

"Bob," rabbit one said to two, "I really getting sick of the outfit."

They couldn't see Loren or the others.

Rabbit two turned to his companion surprised and replied, "What? What the hell are you talking about Jerry? The outfit's our life. We're Drop Infantry and damn proud too."

*That can't be their names* thought Loren before he realized that his mind was attempting to comprehend a language it had never heard, so it was compromising.

"Well, it's popcon duty that gets me. Here we are on out own planet killing off these bugs because they breed too damn fast. But these bugs are sentient. They can think and fear and...just like us."

"Hold on there Jerry," said one. "True the pencil-pushing brain men up top think these things have brains, but we're doing them a favor. Their breeding gets outta control sometimes so we step in and help them out. We live here too so we gotta protect ourselves on top of that."

"Yea, I guess so Bob, but the reason they breed is because they only live for less than a *&#$@." (Loren's mind was getting tired of compromising.)

Rabbit two shook his helmet. "You got too much heart Bob for this popcon stuff. Look it's already noon and we're about three hundred bodies behind schedule. Go back to the barracks and get some rest. I can finish up from here.

"No, you're right Jerry. I'm a Benton Blackheart, 57th platoon, 3rd battalion, part of the glorious D.I. This is my job. Let's go do what we've been ordered."

Rabbit two, Jerry, reached out with one long foreleg and slapped rabbit number one, Bob, on the back. "That's the spirit!"

Loren could hear the static of some sort of communications now. Bob was fingering something on his helmet with a foreleg that was almost to short to reach. "Popcon patrol one to popcon two and three. On the bounce!"

The two odd figures tore through the forest and for a moment Loren saw the trees part and the ground slope downward. In the distance a grouping of ramshackle huts lay with what appeared to be humanoid figures moving lazily around them. He could have swore they had tiny little pinpricks of light reflecting oddly off the sides of their foreheads. The next thing Loren heard were more familiar sounds of energy weapons being fired.

Loren's brain got tired of the game of compromise it was playing with these sights and sounds so it decided to quit playing. As Loren fell into unconsciousness, he found that the only thing he could think about was *I wonder what Krysa put in that trail mix?*

Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
Lt(jg) Loren Landers
USS FEYNMAN CNS

[NRPG: I was kinda thinking about Alice in Wonderland when this one came to mind. Sounds a bit bizarre, yes. But we can always discount it as some sort of hallucination on Loren's part. Hope you guys don't think this is too left field. Also I'm sure these psychic residues will probably affect Krysa and Jerran, to what extent is of course up to you guys.]

--
"Endeavour thyself to sleep and spare me your vain bibble-babble"
--- William Shakespeare

USS FEYNMAN: USS Karrest

by Kevin Thigpen 6-21-1997

Stardate:90621.0356
Scene: Northern Continent---->Under Northern Continent
MD:11.1030

Nick and his species were a psychic race. Already, Nick had fumbled a few words; proof of the fact that the spoken tongue was not something these inhabitants of Karrest were used to.

The enormous rabbit, covered in white fur, and standing well over two meters tall, loped easily through the forest trailed by the away team from the FEYNMAN.

All had agreed, it was best to follow and learn for now.

After nearly ten minutes of following Nick, the group came to a small glade. Trees grew over a small pond formed by a lazy stream that wound it's way back into the deep of the forest. Here like everywhere else in the forest, no bugs leapt in and out of the pools of water. No insects buzzed in the air. If not for the gentle lapping sounds from the slow flowing stream, the forest would not have even seemed like a forest.

Here, Nick stopped and turned to face the away team members. He opened his mouth and began to speak. "Here we go southward," he stated simply.

Nick stood stock still, and then the forest vanished to be replaced by gunmetal gray walls. It was a room, enormous by comparison to anything on the FEYNMAN.

Loren like the other's looked around in awe. The ceiling stretched beyond one's vision, but the walls (if one could call them that) were within sight, if only barely.

Slowly, the away team realized that what had just occurred was some sort of transporter effect, but none had felt the familiar sensations of matter-to-energy and back conversions. The transport was instantaneous by their judgement.

Nick turned to his guest, "This is pod 4371-2a." He then mouthed something off in a language that the universal translators refused to convert to standard.

"What a second," began Loren. "Your words make no sense to us," Loren added along with gestures towards his mouth and ears.

One of the engineering techs, scanned his tricorder and immediately his eyes widened. Quickly, he informed Maril and Krysa of his readings that the radiation levels had jumped enormously and that the away team was on the verge of lethal exposure. Their 'guide' had brought them into death.

Loren heard the conversation and turned to the bemused looking Nick. Quickly, he closed his eyes focusing out the sounds of the other's attempting to contact the ship.

Reaching out lightly with his thoughts, Loren used the tendrils of his mind to reach Nick.

• • • 
      

"Nick, we are in danger here."

"Your primitive communications devices cannot work down here. I am sorry, we had not considered your frail forms. I will take precautions." ***

"Radiation levels have dropped sharply," announced a bemused Krysa looking at her modified tricorder. "It's at the extreme range of my tricorder, but I'm getting energy waves that seem to indicate some kind of shielding system. Loren?" Krysa saw the counselor sink to his knees again.

Nick stood over him looking solemn with his head cocked to one side.

"Loren!?" The counselor was sprawled on the ground now and Nick still stood quietly over him, looking intent on some sort of unseen business.

"Team, take no provocative actions," ordered Maril. Already the wheels were turning in the Tamarian's head, but he saw that they were outmatched technologically.

Finally Nick looked up from the prone form of the counselor at the others.

"Forgive me," he began again in perfect standard. "Your translator devices ceased functioning due to the levels of radiation. I have created adequate protection for your particular biological casings. I had no foreknowledge concerning your frailties."

"Is our crewmate alright?" queried Maril as Krysa moved to inspect Loren.

"Your colleague is fine. Apparently your minds are as fragile as your bodies although I obtained the information I sought." Nick continued, "We are in need of your assistance. Assistance which your vessel may be able to provide."

[SNIP]

Maril's head was spinning. Nick had friends, several thousands of them, all living below the planet's surface.

Apparently at some point in the planet's history, Nick species had evolved and become dominant. Later, before Nick's people had perfected space travel another sentient species developed on the planet, the horned Karrestrians.

The really interesting part came when Nick revealed his age, or tried to. No words in the Federation language could describe his age! From, what the away team could make out, he was born at or around the time of the creation of the universe. Nick's lifespan was measured in eons, which explained how the horned Karrestrians developed on the planet.

To Nick and his people, anything with a lifespan of about a century, bred like insects. Nick and his people saw the passage of a century as a typical human saw the passage of a few milliseconds. The dominant species on Karrest at the present moment, developed overnight in the eyes of Nick's people.

At first, the giant rabbits had began killing off the horned Karrestrians, but soon realized the immorality of such actions and took to living beneath the planet.

To the horned Karrestrians, Nick's people faded into legends, and Nick's kind kept it this way.

Many of their kind fled to the stars but many stayed on their homeworld, which they soon shaped to ensure not only their survival but that of the their new charges, the Karrestrians above.

In front of the screen that had sprung to life before Maril, he saw the layout of the planet. Dotted all throughout the mantle of the planet were hundreds of mile long pods of metal structures containing unbelievable amounts of antimatter. An enormous network of conduits stretched from these pods into the core of the planet, which Nick would only refer to enthusiastically as "Go!"

According to Nick all the pods powered the planet and enabled it to move freely through space under warp power, but there was a problem even Nick and his people could not fix. One the antimatter pods glowed a menacing red in the schematic of the planet that hung in the air before Maril.

Respectfully submitted,
Kevin Thigpen
Lt(jg) Loren Landers
USS FEYNMAN CNS

[NRPG: Didn't want to take too much fun for myself :). Now, we have giant rabbits, a planet that can go into warp, and a faulty antimatter containment pod. Hmmm...a planet covered with mile long pods of antimatter and if one goes boom, then...]

--
"Endeavour thyself to sleep and spare me your vain bibble-babble"
--- William Shakespeare