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<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 JUNE 1997 POSTS: 16</font>
{{Template:USS_FEYNMAN_POST_ARCHIVES}}
{{Template:USS_FEYNMAN_POST_ARCHIVES}}


<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Dr. Mental</h3>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Dr. Mental</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by  
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by  
Kevin Thigpen 6=1-1997</h4>
Kevin Thigpen 6-1-1997</h4>


Stardate: 90601.1345<br>
Stardate: 90601.1345<br>
Line 159: Line 159:


Kristen
Kristen
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: This Is Fun?</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 6-1-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90601.1203<br>
Scene: Krysa's Quarters<br>
MD: 3.1925<br>
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!
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
Scene: 10-Forward<br>
MD: 4.0300<br>
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.
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
Scene: Observation Lounge<br>
MD 11.0700<br>
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,<br>
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
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
<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<br>
From: Commander Onta Maril, Executive Officer, USS Feynman<br>
Subject: Upcoming Away Team Assignments<br>
<br>
Tomorrow, at 0800 hours, the following members of<br>
the senior staff will beam down to the surface of Karrest, as<br>
close as possible without arousing the Karrestians' suspicion<br>
to what appears to be their main city on the northern<br>
continent:<br>
<br>
Commander Onta Maril<br>
Lt. Commander Krysa Jenn
Lt. Jerran Terel<br>
Lt.(jg) Loren Landers<br>
<br>
In addition, two science officers and two engineering officers<br>
other than Lt. Meleah and Lt. Commander Koreth will acompany the<br>
away team.<br>
<br>
All members of the away team will be surgically altered to resemble<br>
the Karrestians and communicators will be implanted outside each<br>
member's ears. Phasers will not be allowed on the away team.<br>
Tricorders, if hidden well, will be allowed.<br>
<br>
We will attempt to ascertain the actual level of Karrestian technology.<br>
As well as a physical disguise, we will assume the guise of a<br>
traveling performing troupe. I will be in charge of the troupe.<br>
Every member of the away team should attempt to create as thorough a<br>
character as possible.<br>
<br>
There will be a meeting of the away team members and Captain Zane at 0700<br>
hours in the Observation Lounge tomorrow to coordinate the away team before<br>
we beam down at 0800.<br>
<br>
Commander Onta Maril<br>
Executive Officer, USS Feynman, NCC-66000<br>
<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
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<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: Traveling Music</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 6-4-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90604.1320<br>
Scene: Observation Lounge<br>
MD: 11.0800<br>
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.
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
MD: 11.0830<br>
Scene: Dirt road, somewhere on the Northern continent of Karrest<br>
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,<br>
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Blurred Images</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by David Williams 6-5-1997</h4>
SD 90605.1431 CDT/ 1931 GMT<br>
MD: 11.0830<br>
Scene: Sickbay Trauma Unit<br>
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....
<nowiki>----------------</nowiki><br>
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<br>
Awaiting orders, SB AQUARIUS, Meridian Fleet<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>
"Get down off the cross, honey. Somebody needs the wood."
--Dr. Shirlee Kenyon (Dolly Parton), "Straight Talk"
-------------------==== Posted via Deja News ====-----------------------
http://www.dejanews.com/ Search, Read, Post to Usenet
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Encounters</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Kevin Thigpen 6-1-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90604.2337<br>
Scene: Karrestrian soil<br>
MD: 11.0815<br>
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,<br>
Kevin Thigpen<br>
Lt(jg) Loren Landers<br>
USS FEYNMAN CNS<br>
[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 :).]
<nowiki>**************************************************************************</nowiki><br>
"The computer allows one to make mistakes faster than any other invention*<br>
aside from possibly handguns and Tequila." *<br>
--Mitch Ratcliffe *<br>
<nowiki>**************************************************************************</nowiki><br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: A Rabbit's Duty</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Kevin Thigpen 6-14-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90614.1916<br>
Scene: Forest on Karrest<br>
MD: 11.1015<br>
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...
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
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."
<nowiki>*That can't be their names*</nowiki> 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,<br>
Kevin Thigpen<br>
Lt(jg) Loren Landers<br>
USS FEYNMAN CNS<br>
[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.]
<nowiki>--</nowiki><br>
"Endeavour thyself to sleep and spare me your vain bibble-babble"<br>
--- William Shakespeare<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: USS Karrest</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Kevin Thigpen 6-21-1997</h4>
Stardate:90621.0356<br>
Scene: Northern Continent---->Under Northern Continent<br>
MD:11.1030<br>
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.
***<br>
"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."
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
"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,<br>
Kevin Thigpen<br>
Lt(jg) Loren Landers<br>
USS FEYNMAN CNS<br>
[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...]
<nowiki>--</nowiki><br>
"Endeavour thyself to sleep and spare me your vain bibble-babble"<br>
--- William Shakespeare<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Things Are Never Ss They Seem.</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 6-22-1997</h4>
SD:90622.1500<br>
MD:11.0915<br>
[Allard to Bridge.]
Zane looked up from the information displayed on the arm-console viewer
he was scrutinizing. "What have you got Mr. Allard?"
[We’ve cornered Chavez in Science Lab 7. Unfortunately he has
hostages.]
"Anestizine Gas?" Zane asked considering the situation. The gas would
be virtually instantaneous. The problem would be quickly solved. Of
course if it had been that easy Allard wouldn’t have contacted him until
Chavez was safely in the brig.
[Tried that. The gas vents have been blocked or disengaged in some
way. Either way Chavez is aware of the situation and has threatened to
kill one of the hostages should we make any moves against him.]
"Demands?"
[None. I even asked him if he had any. Told me to ‘burn in hell’ an
other assorted pleasantries.]
"Great. Recommendations?"
[For now SOP is to wait him out. Let him calm down, let him realize
that he’s got nowhere to go.]
"Agreed." Of course, Zane thought to himself, standard operating
procedures didn’t always work with someone who didn’t have all his
faculties in working order.
[And,] Allard continued, [while we’re waiting we’re going to use a
microscopic drill on the ceiling and see if we can get a clear shot at
him. I’d prefer the peaceful method but I don’t see it playing out this
way.]
"Understood. Keep me informed." Zane replied as he closed the
channel. ‘Keep me informed.’ Seemed like it was the 10th time in the
hour he’d said that.
<<SNIP>>
<I>
"Maril to Feynman. Do you read?"
There was a pause and then Captain Zane’s voice came over the
speaker. [This is the Feynman. Our sensors show that you are
using an alien communication device, Commander. Why?]
"We have found the planet-moving species, sir, but there is a lot
to explain."
Maril went through the details of Nick’s explanation with the
Captain over the next half of an hour before Zane understood the
situation entirely.
[What are our options, Commander?]
"I’m not sure, sir. The planet-movers have been quite friendly. I
do think they need our help. Perhaps we can use our help in
exchange for what we need, sir."<br>
</I>
"Good idea." Zane replied, clearly relieved that they indeed did have
something to offer these wizards. "Need any help?"
[Right now, no. There is still much to discuss but once they agree to
let us help we’ll have quite a task ahead of us. Besides the actual
repair work we’ll have to get around some tremendous radiation.]
"I’ll set Commander Koreth on the problem. Anything else?"
[How is the hunt going?] Maril asked.
"Security has had him cornered in Science Lab 7 for an hour now with
little progress. Chavez has some how deactivated the intruder controls
and has threatened to kill the hostages. Right now we’re waiting to see
how it’ll play out."
"Well as usual it seems we both have our dilemmas. For now though I
should return to our hosts."
[Understood. Report back in later.]
<nowiki>-------------------------------------</nowiki><br>
Scene: Subterranean Observation Deck<br>
Two figures looked down at the newcomers below. The taller of the two
shook his head. "We should never have revealed ourselves to them. It
was a mistake and we will surely pay."
‘Come now Jilrat, what were we to do. We have fought with the damage
for along time now. Perhaps these beings can help us."
Jilrat spat in contempt. "Those primitive things. It is a wonder they
were able to travel here at all. No, they can not help. Likely they
will make things worse."
"Perhaps. But even if they were to cause more damage to the machinery
what difference would it make to the inevitable result."
"It might come sooner."
"Some would welcome that. We have lived to long." Hora sighed. They
had had this discussion many times.
"Many would not. We can still leave. Find a new home. Just because
we have built our own prison does not mean we can not escape. We could
go home again."
Home! It had been eons since he had set foot there but he could still
remember it clearly. He did long to return. "If these people can help
us we could return with this ship and if the invaders were there they
could not withstand us now. It would certainly be better than returning
in those metal coffins you and your followers have built. Could you
really leave all our accomplishments behind?"
"Of course not! But just because they will be destroyed does not mean
we should remain with them and except this path."
"Exactly. So shouldn’t we let these beings try to help us. If they
fail we can still leave, but if they succeed."
"If they succeed they will have our technology. Our technology was the
only thing that saved us from the invaders. We can not let it fall into
the hands of anyone else. "
"Really Jilrat. I often marvel at your gift of making the obvious
sound like a personal break through." Hora said dryly. "There is no
reason to worry. If these beings can help us I will make sure that they
do not take the information with them. In fact I will make sure they
never leave at all."
"I hope so." Jilrat answered. "Because if you do not there are those
among us who will do it for you."
Hora laughed coldly. "Why Jilrat, is that a threat?"
"No Magistrate it is merely a fact."
<<<NRPG>>>
Apologies if you got this twice. My mailer would send it cause it
balked at David's eddress.
Kris: Would you mind forwarding this along to him for me? 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: Unnatural Possession</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Melanie Pocknall 6-25-1997</h4>
SD: 90625<br>
SCENE: USS FEYNMAN - Engineering Deck<br>
<I>
"Well, at this point we could do it. But the person would
be dead from the radiation in about 4 hours." Lt. Bonnie repetitively
tapped his head against the computer. He laughed lightly, "Too bad
we don't have duranium innards."
The CEO's eyes closed and a smile appeared, for the second
time in 24 hours Lt. Bonnie had tripped Tarrant's mind into
falling on possible solutions.
"We don't, but there is someone on board who does, he tapped
his comm badge, "Koreth to Meleah."
A moment later she answered, <Meleah here Commander>
"If at all possible, could you come down here to Engineering?
You may be the answer we're looking for.
<nowiki>........</nowiki><br>
..."So you see, with your mechanical makeup, the device would
be able to actively shield you from the extreme radiation."
Tarrant broke in, "whereas for us, the shielding isn't enough
to ensure absolute safety."
As if they needed more reasoning, Bonnie added, "Plus, you'd be
able to make more of the delicate operations without external aids."<br>
</I>
Meleah considered all of this. Their logic was almost flawless - indeed
she would be able to use the shields without suffering any ill effects.
She could see the anticipation on Bonnie's face but Koreth's expression
never wavered. "It sounds acceptable."
"Great," Bonnie said, and went off to get the device ready for Meleah to use.
"What precisely do you wish me to do, Cmdr?" Meleah asked. In their
enthusiasm to explain what the device did, they had skimmed over what
precisely she had to do.
Koreth explained what he wanted done, then Bonnie came back with the
device. "Here," she said, handing it to Meleah. The latter took it, and
examined it closely.
"Very ingenious," Meleah commented guilelessly. "It shall be an honour to
try it out."
<Jason?>
<nowiki>***************************</nowiki><br>
<I>
MD: 11.0935
Scene: Outside the Science Labs
The security guards turned in time to see a heaving mass of green fury
rolling towards them. They stopped Mary before she could break into the
Science Lab. She glared at the two ensigns and felt something tickle the
back of her brain... She could feel how tense Dr. Chavez was... And with a
surprising thought she turned the screws on him... She felt his body seize
up with the pain of the thought she put in his head...
Mary's hair started to free float, as if it were underwater or in a
non-gravity environment. One of the ensigns looked at Mary's eyes and they
went blank, as if she weren't in control of herself... Suddenly the two
ensigns were flattened against the wall and they slumped to the deck,
unconscious... Mary floated above the deck, no longer walking forward, but
floating forward.
<nowiki>*I'm not through with you yet my little Mary... You're my ticket out of
here...*</nowiki> Chavez thoughts reverberated in Mary's unwilling mind. Her body
was now a device for a madman...
Mary floated near the science lab doors.. They burst from their pocket
doors as if made of cardboard. Meleah and J.C. looked up from a graphic
they were looking at.
"What the hell! How did she..." J.C. didn't get to finish that sentence as
he was flung across the room into the electron microscope was attached to the
far wall. Several other security personnel joined their chief, in a pile of
unconscious bodies. Mary floated towards the door that separated her from
her master.<br>
</I>
Meleah watched as Mary seemed to easily render the crew unconscious, and
once again was thankful that she was not subject to human frailty. Since
the behaviour was not normal for Orions, she concluded that it was possible
that Chavez was somehow doing this. Although how, since he had no special
abilities, was beyond Meleah. But she couldn't let Mary enter that room.
Mary felt a hand grasp her leg and she looked down at Meleah...
...although those same eyes appeared to be blank. Mary tried to break
free, interpreting Meleah as a threat. But Meleah held firm, regardless of
how hard Mary tried. She was fully aware of Chavez being in that room,
with three scientists and now a handful of security officers, all in great
danger of being permanently damaged. However, she was one, whereas if Mary
and Chavez combined, she would be outnumbered.
Meanwhile, in the room, Chavez vaguely realized that he was in a little bit
of trouble. There was an android standing between him and freedom.
However, Mary would serve as a useful diversion. He concentrated on Mary,
projecting his thoughts to hers, making the link stronger and giving Mary
no chance to fight back.
Mary started to drift downwards, forcing Meleah to realize her grip on
Mary's leg. As soon as that happened, Chavez shifted his thoughts again,
and made Mary head for the door. Meleah's reflexes were too quick for
either of them, and she grabbed Mary again, and applying a little force,
used the Vulcan nerve-pinch to render her unconscious.
As soon as that happened, Mary fell to the floor. And Chavez realized that
he no longer had a shield. Vainly, he looked around to find something with
which he could bargain with before Meleah entered the room.
For her part, Meleah wasted little time in getting into the room. After
making sure that Mary was alright, she advanced into the science lab.
Chavez turned to face her. However, neither of them saw the figure in the
room who slowly reached for an abandoned phaser...
<nowiki>-------</nowiki><br>
<NRPG><br>
Isn't this exciting?! Jason, I wasn't sure what Meleah was supposed to do
but I have no objections to her being used as a guinea pig (this time <G>).
Sincerely yours,
Lt Meleah<br>
Chief Science Officer, RDMMS<br>
USS FEYNMAN, Silver Fleet<br>
Melanie
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Paranoia</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 6-25-1997</h4>
SD: 90625.1648<br>
Scene: Inside the planet Karrest<br>
MD: 11.1200<br>
Krysa was listening as Jerran and the two engineers tried to come up
with a plan to help the inhabitants of the interior of Karrest. Her
expertise was not in engineering but she might be able to make heads or
tails of their out-of-date computer system.
"Commander," their host said to her.
She took her attention away from the others and turned to look at him,
"Yes?"
"I think we are ready for you to have a look at our computers," he
motioned to a petite female beside him. Krysa admired her lovely fur
which was a light shade of brown as she bobbed her head, "This is our
computer tech. She will show you everything you need to know."
Krysa nodded to them both, "Great, let's get started."
"This way please," she said motioning Krysa to follow her. "You most
likely will not notice how out moded our system is. But I assure .. it
is."
Krysa nodded, but the computer tech did not notice as she kept walking,
leading Krysa to a terminal in a nearby room.
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
MD: 11.1300<br>
After about an hour of 'training' from the Karrestians Computer tech,
who never bothered to give Krysa a name, she was left on her own to see
what she could make of it. She got the distinct impression that the
brown furred female did not appreciate her presence.
She had thought her discomfort was from being in the room along with
someone who obviously didn't like her or want her anywhere near. But
once she was alone, the discomfort grew. She tried to shake it off as
she began scanning through the computer to the effected systems to see
if there was anything she could come up with.
The walls of the room seemed to push in on her as she worked. Almost as
though she were being watched, yet she felt no other presence anywhere
near. She was just being paranoid, she thought. She chuckled, the sound
of her voice ringing hollowly in the empty room .. only making her more
jumpy.
"Commander." She nearly jumped out of her skin at the deep voice from
behind her. She turned to see one of the gold shirted security officers.
"Commander Maril asked me to find you. That rabbit-person you were with
came back and he didn't like the idea of you being alone."
She nodded, "Ensign Cohen .." she breathed, trying to calm her beating
heart, "Actually I'm glad to see you, I was getting a bit paranoid here
by myself."
"Do you need any help?" he asked.
"No," she said shaking her head, "But thanks."
Regards,<br>
Lt.Cmdr. Krysa Jenn<br>
OPs/2O<br>
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
NRPG: Okay you guys know I'm not technically minded here, so I didn't
even attempt to try and come up with an answer..
But do you think this is all in Krysa's head .. or not?? <G>
Kris
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Developments</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Kevin Thigpen 6-25-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90625.0152<br>
Scene: Karrest, hidden antechamber<br>
MD: 11.0915<br>
"Jilrat, I am astonished that you would doubt my abilities. Even now, I
have stretched my powers out to one of their kind on their ship. Soon
they will be in no position to cause us concern."
Jilrat's nose twitched, an obvious sign that he had suddenly become
concerned. "Guard your thoughts, one of their kind approaches!" he
hissed.
It was Hora's turn to look with contempt. "Their feeble minds..."
"Quiet fool, or did you not notice the power of three of their advance
team!"
Hora looked confused but obeyed as he took notice of one of the
aliens, a female he believed. They possessed gender divisions also. This
other gender appeared particularly benign, harmless even.
Jilrat looked on. Slowly, he began to have thoughts about possessing this
creature. It would make a nice addition to his collection of 'things'.
He had one of the largest among his kind, but never one of 'these'.
He looked on at the creature, and then realized that her mind was not at
all feeble as he began sensing her uneasiness. Quickly, he
camouflaged his mind.
"Ah...I see that some of their kind are not blind after all," quipped
Hora. He had picked up on Jilrat's repulsive thoughts. "You wish to
possess that creature, do you not?"
"What I wish is my business. I suggest you attend to yours on their
vessel," replied Jilrat.
The whiskers on one side of Hora's face tilted up, a smile. "I will."
Quickly and with unimaginable ease, Hora projected his mind up and towards
the frail little vessel hanging over their heads. Inside the ship, he
reached out for the mind that he had been one with for only a short time
now. He had done nothing to influence the creature's mind. He had only
given him more power.
<nowiki>*Yes, vengeance is near. My power is your power and our power cannot be
stopped. Disable their vessel. Let nothing stand in your way.*</nowiki>
Hora's whiskers titled upwards again, and Dr. Chavez broke into a smile.
[SNIP]
MD: 11.1310
Loren walked into the enormous room housing the computer equipment for
this section of the planet. Krysa and one of the security officers were
alone in the room. Already he felt uneasy, *No that's Krysa.*
Sometimes he confused the emotions he felt with those of his crewmates.
Krysa looked up at Loren as he walked in. "Feel like talking Cmdr.?"
Loren questioned with a smile.
Krysa never could get over the fact that it seemed like yesterday when she
had been asking the same question to others. Now it was being posed to
her.
"Yes, counselor. I've been feeling really uneasy lately," she added while
glancing around the room for yet another time.
"Betazoid senses or woman's intuition?"
Smiling she said, "Woman's intuition and maybe a little bit of Betazoid's
senses too."
"Probably serious. I can do a quick surface scan of the room and..."
"No," she stated quickly. "We already know these people are powerful
telepaths. Probably the most powerful we've ever encountered. Don't risk
it. We need you sane down here counselor."
Elsewhere, Jilrat looked down at the aliens. *Yes, he would have the
female. And that interfering other alien was troublesome. He would have
to die first.*
Respectfully submitted,<br>
Kevin Thigpen<br>
Lt(jg) Loren Landers<br>
USS FEYNMAN CNS<br>
[NRPG: Just tying together some of the threads....i.e. Dr. Chavez's
enormous powers, Krysa's uneasy feelings, and Zane's hostile
planet-mover's faction.
Kristen- I think the rabbit has a thing for you :).]
<nowiki>--</nowiki><br>
"Endeavour thyself to sleep and spare me your vain bibble-babble"<br>
--- William Shakespeare<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Diffused</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 6-28-1997</h4>
SD: 90628.0900<br>
MD: 11.0945<br>
Scene: Bridge.<br>
"Captain! There is phaser fire in the science lab"
"Bridge to Allard." Zane said immediately but there was no answer.
"Lifesigns?" He asked.
"Several coming through strong but they all seem to be unconscious."
Zane grabbed the phaser from the console and rushed to the scene.
<nowiki>-----------------------------------</nowiki><br>
Scene: Science Lab Two<br>
Zane entered to find a mess of bodies sprawled out among the research
equipment. Additional security had arrived as had med-techs and were
helping everyone to their feet. Zane reached down and gave Allard a tug
up.
"What happened?" He asked as Allard rubbed the back of his head.
"I’m not sure. Dr. Mac showed up looking like some sort of possessed
demon and then all hell broke loose. She came floating through the door
and was heading towards the lab there." J.C. pointed over towards the
doors that two security officers were trying to open. "Next thing I
know your all standing over me."
"So what happened to Dr. Mac."
As if on cue the lab doors opened and Meleah stepped out. "The doctor
is here and is unharmed."
"What happened." Zane asked again.
"It appears Chavez and Mac were having some sort of mental battle and
as it reached its climax Chavez did not realize that he had left his
phaser unattended. The crewmen here used it. Chavez is dead."
Zane looked over to two of the science techs helping a visibly shaken
third out of the lab. "I think we best get her to sickbay." Zane
said. "You and your teams can clean this up?"
"Yes sir." J.C. replied still feeling the effects of the mind thrust.
He looked and sounded like he was recovering from a three day bender.
"Good. I’d also like your evaluation of how the intruder systems in
this lab were so easily disabled and how you’ll ensure it doesn’t happen
again."
<nowiki>-------------------------------------</nowiki><br>
MD:11.1200<br>
Scene: Engineering<br>
"How goes the battle?" Zane said as he walked into one of Koreth’s work
rooms. What looked like a pile of junk was spread out all over the room
and Koreth sat in the middle of it totally absorbed wearing what Zane
privately called his ‘mad-scientist’ face. Realizing that the CEO had
not even noticed him he tried again. "Mr. Koreth?"
"Captain," Koreth said startled. "I’m sorry I didn’t here you come
in."
"I tried not to disturb you." Zane said with a small grin.
"Any progress?"
<<<NRPG>>>
Just a short one to finish one thread and begin to expand on another.
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: Negotiating With Rabbits</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Max Felsher 6-29-1997</h4>
SD 90629.0100(GMT)<br>
MD 11.1300<br>
SCENE: Karrest below surface<br>
Maril walked up to the apparent leader of the “rabbits”. He had
just checked on the progress of the away team and now needed to
negotiate a favor.
“Excuse me,” Maril started. The rabbit turned towards him.
“Yes?”
“I would like to ask for a favor for our people if we are
successful in helping your people with your current problem.”
“And what would this favor be?”
Maril looked around him. “It is a rather long story. Perhaps we
could talk in a more private area.”
The rabbit seemed to contemplate the idea for a second, then
said, “Very well. Come with me.”
The rabbit sped off to some mode of transportation, with Maril
trying hard to keep up and failing miserably. The rabbit had been at
the “turbolift” for a half a minute by the time the out-of-breath
Maril arrived.
Maril and the eight-foot-tall lupine stepped into the turbolift
chamber. A second later, with no sign of movement, the doors
reopened and they were outside a very different room than the one
they had left.
“This is the administrative chamber area. Come, we can talk in
one of the smaller chambers.”
Maril was led down several hallways before stepping into a
medium-sized room, about four meters by four and a half meters.
“Now what kind of favor do you wish?” the rabbit asked as they
sat down. Well, Maril sat down; the rabbit just crouched.
Maril explained the fleet’s need for a new base, the search for
the Husnock base, the discovery of the base and its incredible
computer, its agreement to serve as a base, and finally its engine
problems.
“Now repairs are taking place, but those could take more than a
Terran year--a short time, I know, to you, but nevertheless a longer
time for us. We do not have the technology to move something the
size of a planet the required distance, but you do. That is the favor
we require.”
The rabbit sat in thought for a moment. Then he spoke. “I will
have to convene with the other leaders. In the meantime, you can
return to your away team. There is a transportation car right across
from this office. You just have to think of computer control area
A27. It will take you there. We shall alert you when we have a
decision.”
Maril left the room and followed the leader’s instructions. He
arrived at the area he had been in before. Finding something to lean
against, Maril sat, trying to decide what the next move would be.
The sun has met the sea,<br>
Commander Onta Maril,<br>
First Officer,<br>
USS Feynman,<br>
aka Max Felsher<br>
NRPG:<br>
Just opening a new thread.<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Politics</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Kevin Thigpen 6-29-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90629.2031<br>
Scene: Below Karrest Surface<br>
MD: 11.1430<br>
"What!" roared Nick. The administrative chamber had since filled with the
other 'leaders' of the Karrest's underground populace.
"As I said, it has been a long time since we've had dealings with other
species, the last of which was not exactly in our best interests..."
continued Jilrat.
"But what you propose is that we use these beings and then destroy them!?"
added Nick.
The room itself wasn't that large, but it was filled to capacity nearly
with the huge lupines. The room was distinctly divided as far as castes.
Nick stood on a large dias in the room's center and seating sections
radiated out like the spokes of the wheel.
In one section sat the engineers, all female, and all very quiet.
Engineers rarely interfered in policy decisions, they only invented or
repaired when necessary.
Another section housed the warriors, glistening in the battle armor they
rarely removed. The Federation away team had not been allowed to see them
yet, for good reason. They could easily pick up the strongest of any
member of the away team and tear the being apart without the slightest of
exertion, not to mention they would have enjoyed it. Eons of inactivity
tended to make a warrior...unhappy.
Yet another section housed what could be nearest called the prophets,
concerned with the spiritual well-being and history of the underground
Karrestrian race. Their numbers had steadily diminished throughout the
eons as the race had continued to withdraw from all contact from anything
and everything.
The largest section housed the policy makers, composed of none other than
Jilrat, Hora and dozens of others. Their numbers had increased
exponentially throughout time. They held the real power in the society,
and exercised it in the way THEY saw fit.
"Nick, you can't possibly side with these 'lesser' beings. And I suggest
we not even let them tamper with our mechanisms, much less use them for
anything."
"Jilrat, but our own engineers have wrestled with this problem for
centuries and it has only gotten worse," interjected Nick considerably
more calm.
Jilrat moved from his section seating and began to circle the dias.
"Then, we let them aid us and then destroy them. Our technology is too
vital to us to allow them to carry any knowledge of it with them. We
would be compromising our people's safety to do otherwise."
The sections remained quiet throughout the interchange as the two most
powerful and oldest of their kind debated.
"I am the oldest and my decision is made...for the good of our people."
"Then you are a fool," spat Jilrat. "And I will have no part of it."
"Wait, Jilrat," cooly spoke Nick. He had seen this coming for some time.
"If that is your stand, then consider yourself challenged by me."
Jilrat's whiskers twitched up. "Fine, challenge accepted as per our laws
since the beginnings of time. I will choose my champion tonight. The
same applies to you. We will meet upon the chosen field tomorrow at the
sun's highest rising. May our forefathers have mercy upon your soul."
Jilrat smiled again. He had planned this for a long time as well.
Immediately, Jilrat spun on his heel and left the room, storming. A
hushed murmur descended amongst the sections. Everyone knew Jilrat had
become power mad since the arrival of the other beings, but no one knew
what he planned to do next.
Hora sunk lower in his seat. He knew that Jilrat had some miniscule
support in the warrior caste, not enough to wage any kind of war, but
enough to cause trouble. To top it off, IF he was the victor in the
challenge against Nick, then all would be lost.
The prophets murmured amongst themselves, excitedly recording all that
was going on.
<nowiki>----------------------</nowiki><br>
Scene: Pod 57A<br>
MD: 11.1500<br>
Loren had wandered the halls of this particular pod for nearly an hour.
After leaving Krysa to her work on the computer, he too had been feeling a
growing unease. The head council or governing body of Nick's people had
met behind closed doors over an hour ago. The away team had not been
allowed to sit in on it, but that wasn't Loren's source of unease.
He was being followed, and whoever it was wanted him to know it.
"Who's there?" shouted Loren back the way he'd come. The security guard
who'd been assigned to him for his little excursion looked a bit startled
at Loren's sudden outburst.
"Something wrong counselor?" queried the guard looking steadily back down
the deserted corridor himself.
"Just a feeling, but I believe there's someone..."
Loren didn't finish his sentence because his eyes became rooted at the
figure that suddenly loomed into view. *Just like in the vision in the
forest* thought Loren.
A glint of light from overhead flashed off the armor as the figure leaped
at the two Federation officers. Loren saw another flash, this one
metallic, and much more menacing lance out at him. He turned to the guard
to scream to call for help, but the poor man was in the grip of another
one of those nightmarish armored rabbits. The security guard's neck was
in the fist of one of them before the poor man could even move.
The two warriors stood stock still, the security guard dangling limply in
the grip of one. Slowly, a concealed side door opened in the corridor and
out clambered a smaller rabbit, in comparison to the warriors.
The shorter rabbit spoke, "I am Hora, and I have important information for
your kind. One of our kind is threatening to endanger your peoples."
"You mean, the FEYNMAN is in danger?" queried Loren looking in the
direction of the security guard still dangling in the fist of a warrior.
Hora shook his head impatiently. "No, you do not understand. Not just
your ship, but everything, your entire organization. Your ship will be a
beginning if this evil overcomes the one you refer to as Nick." Hora
looked up anxiously, back down the corridor. "Jilrat is completely mad
for power. After conquering Nick, your precious worlds will be next.
I've said enough. I am surely dead now, but you had to be told."
"Look, the Federation will not become involved in any kind of internal
power struggle among your people..." began Loren.
Hora shook his head again, glancing nervously over his shoulder again.
"You still do not see. Jilrat must be exposed for the madman that he is
or there will be no Federation. There is information to this
effect in my quarters, but..."
Loren squinted slightly. Hora suddenly became quiet, and then the
warriors to either side of him leapt. Quickly, Loren's eyes focused on
the beam of light that ran through Hora's midsection. The rabbit's eyes
grew wide and then froze in place. His upper body just seemed to melt
leaving his lower half still standing on his hind legs.
Loren shook his head at Hora's melted form. The warriors had sprung into
action down the corridor colliding fiercely with four others of their
kind. The security guard had been dropped, like a rag doll, as the
sounds of metal on metal rang out.
He didn't think, he grabbed the guard, who he hoped was unconscious, and
ran in the opposite direction for all he was worth, thinking all the
while how did he always get involved in this kind of stuff.
Respectfully submitted,<br>
Kevin Thigpen<br>
Lt(jg) Loren Landers<br>
USS FEYNMAN CNS<br>
[NRRG: I tried not to put any plot twists in this one. Also, I made sure
not to make this thing with the rabbits a full blown civil war (I know the
Federation would never get involved in that kind of thing). Instead we're
just dealing with a power mad individual with a couple of followers.
Makes it interesting for those who have to make the command decisions
<BG Andy, Max, Krysa>.
I leave the details of Jilrat's obsession with Krysa and the details of
this supposed 'challenge' between Nick and Jilrat to you guys, the
experts.]
<nowiki>--</nowiki><br>
"Endeavour thyself to sleep and spare me your vain bibble-babble"<br>
--- William Shakespeare<br>
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