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* mrht Heis'he ehl'ein qiuu * --Rihannsu Proverb *<br>
* mrht Heis'he ehl'ein qiuu * --Rihannsu Proverb *<br>
<nowiki>***************************************************************************</nowiki><br>
<nowiki>***************************************************************************</nowiki><br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: In the Soft Grass</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kristen Gant 9-12-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90912.2035<br>
Scene: Arboretum<br>
MD: 2.2300<br>
Krysa sat at a small table, picking at the plate in front of her. She'd
programed the replicator herself.. but it just wasn't what she wanted. She
also had to admit that it simply wasn't very good in any case. She frowned
and moved to rest her head on her fist, as she stared over at the babbling
brook running through the Arboretum. Actually it was just an aesthetically
pleasing irrigation system .. but babbling brook had a much nicer sound.
She couldn't bring herself to go to 10-Forward for dinner. It would only
have served to make her hungrier and make her current meal less satisfying.
She sighed and took a bite of the less then adequate food in front of her.
She had to eat something ..
Her eyes lit up as the tall, grey-skinned Captain rounded the corner,
making his way over to her. "What are you having?" he asked eyeing her
plate.
She grimaced, "Don't ask." Then she smiled at him, "Taking a break?"
He nodded and moved to sit down next to her, "Trying to come up with ideas .."
She agreed. She'd been racking her brain as well. Then thinking maybe she
could think better on a full stomach she'd made her way here to have a
quiet picnic .. only to be halted in her tracks by the monstrosity on the
plate in front of her. She knew she should have stuck with the turkey
sandwich. "So you thought coming here would give you ideas?"
He grinned, "No. I just asked the computer where you were?"
"Ahh, so you thought maybe *I* would give you ideas," She leaned a bit
closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ".. or maybe a much needed
distraction?"
He smiled, "Either would be appreciated."
"Well, since our meeting isn't until tomorrow, I think a distraction is in
order. I definitely need one .. just from this," she pushed the plate away
and stood.
"Your not going to finish it?"
"Nope, I want to go sit in the grass with you."
"You want to sit on Mr. Var's grass?" he said with a stern glance. It was a
well known fact that SCPO Talon Var was very protective of his Arboretum.
She nodded, "Yes I do. Don't worry, Talon and I are friends .. and surely
he wouldn't think of yelling at the Captain. And you need some relaxation
.. before we actually get where we're going."
She took his hand and pulled him onto the soft grass. She settled herself
down and motioned him to sit next to her, giving him a reassuring smile.
Finally he sat and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder
and closing her eyes, "Now just relax and listen to the babbling of the
brook .."
Scene: Observation Lounge<br>
MD: 3: 1200<br>
"I think we need to split up into teams, so that we can keep a trail on the
Admiral at all times." Krysa said, "If we keep in constant communication,
hopefully we can keep an eye on him .. at least knowing where he is at all
times. We just need to hope we blend in well, and go unnoticed by others."
Maril nodded, "I've been giving some thought to the teams myself." He
looked over at Zane, "I don't think Lt. Allard will let you go without him."
Zane nodded, the last thing he wanted was Allard quoting regulations at him
again. "It might not be a bad idea to split up the Doctor and the Counselor
as well."
Krysa nodded, "Beside with this link they seem to have, they maybe able to
help keep track of the other."
"Though I don't think we can rely on that." Zane pointed out.
"Yes, we have to find a way to communicate between the groups that can not
be monitored." Maril agreed.
The Captain turned to his second officer, "Commander I'd like you to put
Dr. Mac and Lt. Jerran with you. Along with one of our temporal advisors."
She nodded and he turned to the XO, I'll take Lt. Landers and Lt. Cardiff,"
the older man across the table nodded briefly, ".. leaving you with
Commander Koreth and Lt. Meleah."
"And the other temporal watchdog?" Maril added and Zane nodded. "What about
covers?"
"It's a mountain lodge," Cardiff said, "So there will be lots of tourists."
"I could easily see my group passing as a group of vacationing human
tourists .. once we cover Mary's green skin and Teri's ears .."
".. and nose." Maril added, "All of which Dr. Mac's cosmetic surgery can
take care of."
Krysa nodded at the XO, "How about your group, commander?"
"Intellectuals .. celebrating the recent publication of a long time
research paper?"
She grinned, "Now I know Klingons like to celebrate.. but will you get any
work done between mugs of Blood wine?"
"Have no fear, Commander," said Maril before turning to the Captain, "What
about you, sir?"
Regards,<br>
Lt.Commander Krysa Jenn<br>
OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
<nowiki>***</nowiki><br>
NRPG: Well, here's my suggestions, feel free to change anything :) But be<br>
kind, it's my birthday! :)<br>
I got a brand new Washing Machine .. hmmm, I'm afeared I'm becomin' to
domestic....
BTW Andy, no need to forward this to the ng. I have to read it anyway so I
post it directly there :)
Kristen
<nowiki>*************************************************************</nowiki><br>
.^. Kristen Gant<br>
.-----' `-----. (AKA: Lt. Cmdr. Krysa Jenn, OPS/2O, USS FEYNMAN<br>
| [##' `##] | Cmdr. Y'lonna Dyvian, XO, USS VICTORY<br>
`---' __ `---' Capt. Gabriel Faison, XO, TF ZINDERNEUF<br>
| .-' `. | Dr. Janna Swansen, CMO, USS PHOENIX<br>
|' `| Lt. Faith Donaven, Inst., Camp Venture<br>
Cdor. Ainese Kev, COMPA<br>
Lt.(j.g.) Roana Shan, (unassigned))<br>
http://homepage.interaccess.com/~sgant/Kris/kris.htm<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Making Contact</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by Kevin Thigpen 9-14-1997</h4>
Stardate: 90914.1735<br>
Scene: Bridge---->Observation Lounge<br>
MD: 9.0900<br>
Loren strode onto the bridge as soon as the lift doors parted. Visually
the bridge appeared the same as always, but underlying the sense of duty
was an air of intense cautiousness, and worry.
"Lt. Jerran, bring us out of warp and at station keeping just outside the
system," ordered Zane from the command chair flanked by Cardiff, Flint,
Stone, and Maril. Loren move over near tactical from where he could get a
good view of the main viewscreen and system M5578-B.
A flash of light strobed across the viewscreen as it focused on the system
and the first step of the mission, the fourth planet in the eight planet
system. "Shields are holding, sir," reported Krysa from Ops.
Even at a distance, this particular pulsar was emitting gamma radiation on
a magnitude matched by few catalogued pulsars. The fact that the system
possessed no precious minerals or life, added to the fact that a few hours
direct exposure could render a top of the line starship shielding system
useless, ensured that the Guardian's resting place remained known only to
top officials in the Starfleet Temporal Division.
Loren was so intently focused on the fourth planet, and the presence that
rested there, that he almost didn't hear Zane call for a senior staff
meeting in the observation lounge.
"You going to stand there all day," stated J.C. to the wide-eyed Loren.
Blinking at first slowly, Loren withdrew from the presence on the planet
to look at the CSO.
"Whaat...Oh, no, no. Just thinking," replied Loren turning to head for
the observation lounge.
[SNIP]
"The pulsar is a fast rotator as far as pulsars go, but the FEYNMAN can't
afford to be directly exposed to it long even with her shields," stated
Flint as he pointed to the sectional slice of M5578-B.
Continuing with their disturbing habit, Stone picked up as soon as Flint's
sentence trailed off. "Therefore, the FEYNMAN will come in behind the
fourth planet, and take up station keeping on it's farthest side from the
pulsar. We will then put an away team on the planet, who will make
contact with the Guardian, and proceed with the mission from there."
The senior staff had already gone over the mission specific details days
ago, but Flint and Stone had argued that another would be necessary to
finalize mission details.
Both men paused to accept questions from the staff.
[NRPG: Questions?]
Respectfully submitted,<br>
Kevin Thigpen<br>
Lt.(jg) Loren Landers<br>
USS FEYNMAN CNS<br>
[NRPG: Just a vague little something to put us in the system with the
Guardian. I added the pulsar bit just to make things interesting <VBG>.]
<nowiki>***********************************************************************</nowiki><br>
"Nature uses only the longest threads to weave her patterns, so each small<br>
piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry."<br>
---Richard Feynman<br>
Is there evil in the universe?<br>
---Anonymous<br>
<nowiki>***********************************************************************</nowiki><br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Catching Up</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Andrew Catterick 9-14-1997</h4>
SD:90914.1800<br>
Scene: Observation Lounge<br>
MD: 3: 1200<br>
<I>
> "It's a mountain lodge," Cardiff said, "So there will be lots of<br>
> tourists."<br>
><br>
> "I could easily see my group passing as a group of vacationing human<br>
> tourists .. once we cover Mary's green skin and Teri's ears .."<br>
><br>
> ".. and nose." Maril added, "All of which Dr. Mac's cosmetic surgery<br>
> can take care of."<br>
><br>
> Krysa nodded at the XO, "How about your group, commander?"<br>
><br>
> "Intellectuals .. celebrating the recent publication of a long time<br>
> research paper?"<br>
><br>
> She grinned, "Now I know Klingons like to celebrate.. but will you get<br>
> any work done between mugs of Blood wine?"<br>
><br>
> "Have no fear, Commander," said Maril before turning to the Captain,<br>
> "What about you, sir?"<br>
</I>
"Apparently Flint and Stone will be able to make contact with the
Temporal Division of the past. They have assured me that they will be
able to get a few of us onto the staff at the lodge so I guess my team
will don their waiter outfits." Zane said with a smile. "You would be
an excellent private butler Mr. Cardiff." Cardiff did not seem amused.
"Well now that we have our covers all we need to know now is what to
do. "Krysa said ruefully. "How do we know who to watch? A seemingly
innocent action could be the end of everything and something that might
be construed as suspicious could in fact be completely innocent."
"And if we move to early we could blow our cover." Maril finished.
Zane gestured to Cardiff who held up a small wristband that looked like
a watch. "Each team leader will where one of these. It has the ability
to identify the beginning of a ripple into the timeline…an attack on Lt.
Nicholas or some other action that will postpone or bar his testimony.
There will be seven ‘ripples’ that have the potential to disrupt the
timeline. Just before they occur the ‘watch’ will warn the closest
team. They must then foil the attempt. If they do not the mission has
failed."
"And if we stop all seven attempts there will be no more?"
"Not at this time, however that does not rule out further attempts."
Zane held up his hand. "Let’s keep to one mission to save the galaxy
at a time please."
"What do we tell the crew?" Maril asked.
"Nothing." Zane replied clearly not liking the answer. "Thats a direct
order from up high. Apparently the Temporal Division has quite a deal
of subterfuge in the system, enough that no one would really care do any
major exploration. We will arrive in orbit of the planet, the twelve of
us will beam down and we should be back within 30 minutes. If we are
not…well it won’t matter anymore. While we’re gone the ship is not to
do any scans of any nature. Flint assures me that scans would not find
anything but there is no point in leaving anything to chance."
"It will seem strange that we all beam down with out explanation."
Krysa said.
Zane nodded. "Agreed. And there will be talk. But it will just be
talk. Very few know about the Guardians and its a General Order that
those that do can not talk about it so the secret should remain safe."
"With all of us the planet who will be leave in command?" Maril asked.
"Lt. Garret." Zane replied. The BETA-OPS was the best choice. Besides
the senior staff she was the most experienced bridge officer on the
ship. Zane felt completely confident in her abilities. She was a
excellent officer and he had no doubt she’d make an excellent captain
one day. If she let it happen at least. She’d already turned down two
promotions to other ships as an OPS/20.
"Any other questions? Good. We’ll have a full meeting once we reach
the system."
Scene: Observation Lounge<br>
MD: 9.0900<br>
<I>
> "The pulsar is a fast rotator as far as pulsars go, but the FEYNMAN<br>
> can't afford to be directly exposed to it long even with her shields,"<br>
> stated Flint as he pointed to the sectional slice of M5578-B.<br>
><br>
> Continuing with their disturbing habit, Stone picked up as soon as<br>
> Flint's sentence trailed off. "Therefore, the FEYNMAN will come in behind the<br>
> fourth planet, and take up station keeping on it's farthest side from<br>
> the pulsar. We will then put an away team on the planet, who will make<br>
> contact with the Guardian, and proceed with the mission from there."<br>
><br>
> The senior staff had already gone over the mission specific details<br>
> days ago, but Flint and Stone had argued that another would be necessary to<br>
> finalize mission details.<br>
><br>
> Both men paused to accept questions from the staff.<br>
</I>
After a brief pause one of the officers asked the most basic of
questions. "Now what?"
Zane spoke before Flint or Stone could. Quickly he went over the
particulars of the plan, the distribution of teams, the temporal wrist
bands that he, Maril and Jenn would be wearing and of course the seven
time waves they would have to counteract. He ended with a nod to Lt.
Garret. "Lt. Garret will be in command while we are gone. From here we
will head to sickbay to get into character while Garret puts the ship in
orbit. Once there she will operate the transporter and beam us down to
the sight. No one outside this room will have any idea what is down
there and what we will be doing. And I’m sure I don’t need to remind
any of you that breaking the silence is in violation of Starfleet
General Orders. Very well then if you all head down to sickbay I’ll
join you presently. Lt. Garret if you’ll join me on the bridge."
Scene: Bridge.
"Helm, put us into orbit around the fourth planet and keep it between us
the pulsar."
"Aye sir."
Once there Zane wasted little time. "Lt Garret you have the bridge and
you have your orders."
"Aye sir."
<<<NRPG>>><br>
Ok, I’ll post us on the planet tomorrow.
Team One: Zane, Cardiff, Allard, Loren…will pose as staff of the lodge.<br>
Team Two: Maril, Koreth, Jerran, Stone…a group of intellectuals on
conference<br>
Team Three: Jenn, Meleah, Mac, Flint…a bunch of tourists.<br>
Respectfully,<br>
Andy<br>
<nowiki>__________________________________________________</nowiki><br>
-Captain Zane, Commanding, USS FEYNMAN<br>
-Commodore Robert Steele, Commanding TF ZINDERNEUF<br>
-Commander Horatio Sinclair, Currently Unassigned<br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Turbulant Tides</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Michael "Mike" Dailey 9-15-1997</h4>
SD: 90915.2045 [90916.0045 GMT]<br>
SCENE: Security Control, Deck 15<br>
MD: 0.1700 (Following briefing)<br>
Though off duty, Rory needed to finish a few loose ends before things
became even more hectic aboard the FEYNMAN. The unofficial axiom in the
'fleet was that nothing travelled faster that warp 10, except news. The
hush over the forthcoming mission served only to fuel the proverbial rumor
mill. Rory had heard quite a few interesting ones, from a reconnaissance
mission into Xanthandi space to a confirmed SILVER offensive against the
Husnock, from the Ship's Barber none the less. *Amazing what people can
conjure up,* he thought.
Security doors parted, and Rory strode in, heading towards his office.
"Good afternoon, Ens. Heywood." came Micah Hicks, manning the Watch
Officer's post. Rory wheeled around at the unexpected voice.
"Mr. Hicks?, what happened to Jerry?" asked the ACSO. Micah looked
quite comfortable, in excellent spirits sporting his new pair of
solid silver pips, promoted to PO/2 just yesterday.
"Mr. Jonas reported to the OOD, requested to be on sick leave," said Micah.
"I checked with Mr. T'boc and volunteered for a double shift." Rory smiled,
thinking perhaps a bit of vanity had encroached itself on Micah. He wondered
what was wrong with Mr. Jonas, but would check the logs later.
"Very well, Mr. Hicks." Rory turned to leave, but stopped himself. "Speaking
of our Mr. T'boc, have you seen him recently?"
"Not for a few hours, Sir." replied Micah. "I believe he's taken a patrol
watch this shift." The senior NCO of security rarely took a patrol watch,
but Rory had quickly learned to never underestimate the Vulcan SCPO.
"My compliments to Mr. T'boc, and would he join me in my office when his
rounds permit."
"I'll inform him at once, Sir." said Micah. Rory nodded, and made way
to the office. Across from his own, Lt. Allard's desk was empty, the top
ready for an inspection as usual, home to nothing but the console and a PADD.
Rory admired his immediate CO, a stickler for neatness, an area Rory was
quite lacking. Sliding into his own chair, Rory didn't envy Mr. Allard
today. When Rory had fled from the briefing earlier, the looks he saw told
him he would not want to trade places with the CSO. Being on the receiving
end of one of the Captain's tyrannical bouts was bad enough, but to have
both the Captain AND the XO breathing down your neck was a nightmare many
times over. Rory had heard the stories of how seasoned officers were full
of quirks, and guessed he had landed with the champion of them all.
Hitting the console, he opened his notes, reviewing what remained. Armory
inventory completed...check. T'boc progressing on the sidearm upgrades...check.
Schedule of surprise drills for the next two days, check....
"Computer, access mail server. Display any new messages." said Rory. His notes
disappeared, replaced by the mail subsystem. Three new messages, two were
the past shift logs for his review. He keyed the third, and grimaced. An
order from the Counsellor for a review of his Psych file. *I HATE doctors,
and Counsellors even more!*, thought Rory. A smile came across his face as,
thoughts drifting to the encounter with the ACNS, Amber. Perhaps he should
send her a dinner invitation?, but dismissed the idea. Spontaneity more
becoming of his style. Perhaps he would get a chance to see her at his review.
[SNIP] MD: 1.1635 BRIDGE
With the FEYNMAN's civilian compliment gone, a certain emptiness had
crept over the ship. J.C. noticed it in everyone's mood, especially of
those whom had left close ones behind on Zinderneuf. Checking his
console, the diagnostic was just finishing on the aft sensors. Everything
checked out perfect, the same as the last two times he had run the
subroutine. J.C. ordered a few unscheduled drills for his department,
partially to keep their skills sharp, but also to alleviate the
tedium while in transit.
The Department briefing had been quite short, as there was very little
J.C. could relay to his squad leaders and ACSO. No transfers had
occurred, and if not for the two promotions of Mr. Hicks and Mr. Okano,
the entire meeting would have been unnecessary. A glance at the
chronometer showed it just now clicking to 1640.<br>
<I>
> “Alright, Alpha shift, let’s go. Beta shift, you’re on. Commander<br>
> Jenn, you have the Bridge.”<br>
><br>
> Most of the senior officers, including Maril started to walk towards<br>
><br>
> the turbolifts. However, before Allard could step into one, Maril<br>
> stopped him, tapping him on his shoulder. “Mr. Allard, I’d like you to<br>
> report to my office at 2000 hours. I have something to discuss with you.”<br>
</I>
<nowiki>*Oh great, more rhetoric from the assistant-tyrant*</nowiki> thought J.C. Over the past
year, Cdr. Maril and himself had not seen eye to eye on every issue, J.C. held
a certain respect for the Tamarian XO. J.C. was quite sure the Commander was
far more wiser and possibly dangerous than one would initially suspect.
"Orders received and understood, Sir." came J.C. reply, a bit dry in tone, but
by the book at least. For now, however, 10 Forward was his calling of the moment.
[SNIP] 10 Forward
J.C. stared at the bottom of his empty glass, contemplating another Tirellian
Water. He fought the urge for something a bit more potent, but wanted to
remain 100% when he met with Maril. He motioned for a server, as the
ship's caller sounded.<br>
<I>
> [Attention all hands this is the Captain. I regret to inform you<br>
> that on Stardate 90831 USS HAWKING was attacked and disabled by a<br>
> Xanthandi mutagenic weapon. To prevent capture the HAWKING was<br>
> scuttled after the crew escaped to a nearby planet. Following a<br>
> brief skirmish with Xanthandi ground forces survivors were rescued by<br>
> USS MANTA RAY, ZINDERNEUF’s special operations scout. Please join me<br>
> in a minute of silence to honour our fallen comrades.]<br>
</I>
He had not known anyone of the HAWKING personally, but the loss of 'fleet
comrades was still a shock. For SILVER to loose yet another ship of the
line was quite a blow. First the ELIZABETH BLACKWELL, and now the HAWKING.
Even GREEN fleet casualties were not as high, such an irony considering
SILVER's remaining compliment.
"Get you a refill, Sir?" asked the steward.
"Huh?" J.C. slipped back to the here and now. The Bolian indicated to the CSO's
empty glass.
"Would you like a refill?"
"Yeah....er, on second thought, give me a Long Island ice tea," said J.C. The
steward giggled.
"Ahhh, someone's in a festive mood!" as he keyed in the drink. *Not quite,*
thought J.C., *but it will do for now.* J.C. seized the glass from the Bolian,
swiveled on his stool to face the large observation windows. Raising his glass
in salute, J.C. mumbled a silent tribute to the HAWKING and her crew.
[SNIP]
Pausing outside the XO's office, J.C. took a few deep breaths. He had quite a
lot to get off his chest, protocol be damned. He was determined to set a few things
straight, and would not walk away from this meeting until he was satisfied.
He walked up to the doors, activating the chime sensors. A few moments passed by,
J.C. suddenly became angry at the thought of missing his chance to let off some
steam. He reached for the wall mounted chime. From inside, J.C. heard the somewhat
muffled response,<br>
<I>
> “Enter,” Maril said, still concentrating on his research.<br>
><br>
> Lt.(jg) Allard stepped through the doors and stood at attention,<br>
> strangely in about the same spot Sadel had.<br>
><br>
> “Lt. Allard reporting as ordered, Sir!," Allard said, his flat tone<br>
> not letting any emotion come through his voice but making it clear that<br>
> he did not wish to be where he was.<br>
><br>
> Maril turned off his console and looked at Allard. “At ease,<br>
> Lieutenant.” J.C. relaxed ever so slightly, he did not want to<br>
> feel at-ease.<br>
<br>
> He sighed. “Lieutenant, I have no wish to make this long and<br>
drawn-out. *Now THERE'S a contradiction in terms,* thought J.C.<br>
He relaxed to full at-ease realizing this may take a few hours.<br>
<br>
> You are an excellent Chief of Security and Tactical Officer.<br>
> You have been invaluable in many of our missions.<br>
><br>
> “Yet I can not understand how you can simply shirk your duties as a<br>
> senior officer and send your assistant in your place. The senior mission<br>
> briefing is not a party which you can decline to attend. You have an<br>
> obligation to be at those briefings, Lieutenant. As you found out, this<br>
> mission is quite important. Are you going to leave your part in such an<br>
> important mission to your assistant, Mr. Allard?<br>
</I>
Numerous responses popped into his mind, but before he could select his
favourite, Maril continued on with this oration.<br>
<I>
> “Now, this is something of a minor offense. The hurled stone did<br>
> not hit the townspeople. But I need to know that everyone will do his<br>
> or her duty in this mission. Do I have that assurance from you, Mr.<br>
> Allard?”<br>
>
> “Of course, sir.”<br>
>
> “Good. You are dismissed.” J.C. remained, as this was far from over.<br>
</I>
"Was there something else, Mr. Allard.?" asked the XO. *Here goes,*
"Permission to speak freely, SIR." J.C. came to attention once more, as
Maril's eyes probed the young CSO. Silence withheld for an eternity of
a few moments. Finally, the Tamarian spoke, reclining slightly in the
comforts of his chair.
"Granted, Mr. Allard." his voice was the quiet serious tone he had come to
be quite familiar with.
"Sir, this isn't about some bloody briefing... it's about respect!" He stared
into the XO's unmoving eyes. J.C. gestured towards the bridge, "Respect from
that damned Tyrant!".
"Please continue," came Maril, the words ever so soft. His blatant insolence
had not shown upon the XO.
"Sir, I follow orders, I run a tight and efficient department, and each of
my people I'm proud to serve with. Flagship be damned, I'll put my troopers
up against any other unit!" J.C. was suddenly aware of the perspiration
upon his forehead, and the sudden warmth of the room.
"Sir, as far back as our first mission into the Coalsack, I've always held
the interests of the Federation, Star Fleet, and the crew to heart. But
every time I offer advise or counsel, it falls on deaf ears. My logs are
filled with recommendations, suggestion, and yes concerns. I'm here to
do my job, Commander. That's why I was commissioned and that's what I
want to do, but I may as well be Lt. Dunsel, Sir." J.C. studied the
Tamarian, trying to peer into his mind, but Maril was quite good at
masking his reactions.
Submitted,<br>
Mike Dailey<br>
splatter2@qtm.net<br>
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=<br>
= "But that dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from whose +<br>
+ bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those =<br>
= ills we have than fly to others that we know not of..." Hamlet +<br>
+ =<br>
= Lt., j.g. J.C.M. Allard - CSO USS FEYNMAN Alt.Starfleet.RPG +<br>
+ Lt. [Dr.] D'doj Zzawj Ckorji - UNASSIGNED SILVER FLEET =<br>
= Lcdr. Jordon Kabreigny - CNS USS BURKE GREEN FLEET +<br>
+ Lcdr. Ion Steiner - L.C. SFDITF TEAM ALPHA-1 Star Fleet Diplomatic Task Force =<br>
= Capt. Johan Bauer - COMSFDITF "All I ask is a tall ship..." +<br>
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=<br>
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