ORIGINS: USS Hood January 2011

From StarFleet Bureau of Information
Revision as of 23:11, 28 February 2011 by Brian.v.mansur (talk | contribs) (→‎[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Ahoy There!)
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)

Star Fleet: ORIGINS - Main Page | View the ORIGINS Trailer! | New Players | ORIGINS Player Resource Library | Join Star Fleet: ORIGINS
SIXTH FLEET: Main Page | Fleet Roster | USS Endeavor | USS Hood |
TWELFTH FLEET: Main Page | Fleet Roster | USS Constellation | USS Intrepid |


ORIGINS: USS Hood Story Posts
Last Updated: 2262.059



Total Posts: 420+






[ORIGINS] 6th/12th Fleet: The Year Ahead

by Andy Catterick & Alton Reich

SD: 2262.001, 0908 hours - Starbase 12 - RADM T'lar's Office

Admiral T'lar sat at her desk drumming her fingers on her desk while the Starfleet logo glowed in the middle of the display in front of her. She browsed the information on the tablet in her other hand between glances at the display. After a few minutes, the display flickered and she saw Vice Admiral Mitch Corrigan, in his bathrobe settling in his chair.

"Good morning Admiral Corrigan," T'lar said, "did you forget about our weekly Wednesday morning conference?"

"Morning T'lar. It's New Year's Day," Mitch replied. He was nursing a pounding head and was wondering if he’d make it through the meeting without having to rush to the head.

"I am aware of that Mitch. I lit some incense last night and meditated on the events of the past year. The birth of my daughter Vehla was foremost in my thoughts. Then my partner and I engaged in coitus."

Leave it to T'lar to make something intimate sound like docking a shuttle. "Last night, I was at a party where there was wine and hors d'oeuvres. And some other things that I'm not clear on. I'm not operating on much sleep here."

T'lar glanced at the chronometer and did some math, "You should be operating on approximately 9 hours and 5 minutes of sleep."

Mitch thought briefly about arguing with her, but remembered their long association and knew it was futile. When he was a freshman at the Academy, T'lar was an upperclassman and Cadet officer. She had a well deserved reputation as a ball buster.

T'lar looked at Mitch and knew that he was considering arguing with her. He was not always logical, but he had done well by following his gut.

An arm reached into the picture and placed a steaming mug of coffee on his desk. Mitch looked up and said, "Thank you." He looked back at T'lar, "Ok, let's get this done."

"Border outposts 16 and 17 came on line this week. There are still some holes that I am plugging with picket ships, but the entire network is scheduled to be operational within 3 months. It will provide us with a marginal ability to detect a cloaked ship attempting to penetrate our border."

"You're really concerned about the Romulans attacking."

"It is the only logical thing for them to do. They are aware that at some point in the future Starfleet will contribute to the destruction of Romulus. A first strike is inevitable."

Mitch nodded. “The damn LEXINGTON fiasco surely won’t help the situation.” Mitch growled before taking a gulp of his coffee. “And I am still praying that Rafe will be able to pull it out of the fire.” Currently LEXINGTON was being used as a high profile diplomatic courier as she ferried the out going Romulan Ambassador to the Federation to rendezvous with a RSN ship in the neutral zone. The problem was that the ambassador had been murdered in his stateroom. Mitch involuntarily checked the chrono though he had no need to do so. He had not heard anything from Captain Rafe in twelve hours and LEXINGTON was due to make the drop off in another two. He didn’t envy Captain Rafe’s conversation with his Romulan counterpart.

“I take it Romulus still has not been informed of the events that have transpired.” T’lar asked dryly leaving Mitch with a sense that she was enjoying this predicament.

“No. Command has clamped down on it and is leaving it to Captain Rafe to deal with. They actually ordered me not to make any contact on my own. Officially they are worried that communications might be intercepted and this could lead to instability.” As if the shock of finding out at the last second that one of your top ambassador’s, one who was indirectly related to the praetor, was murdered aboard a Starfleet vessel. Mitch had a firm suspicion that someone in command was looking to make this a crisis rather then diffuse one. He also chose to ignore the next logical step in that argument.

"This development makes the INTREPID's mission even more important. Ambassador Thompson must succeed in convincing the Arcturans that it is in their best interest to allow us to place outposts along their border with the Romulans," T'lar said.

"What do you think the odds of success are?" Mitch asked.

"It is difficult to say," T'lar said grimly. "I sense that they know I consider their cooperation vital. Without them, our flank is exposed to a Romluan attack that comes through Arcturan space. They will undoubtedly want something significant in return. I can only hope that it is something we can afford to give."

Mitch leaned back in his chair and glared at the ceiling. “I don’t like this T’lar. I don’t like this one frakkin bit. Romulus is a powder keg waiting to blow, the Klingons tried that unofficial probe, the Arcturans are at best trying to cut their most favorable deal with us and at worst playing games, even the Orions are getting uppity now that they seem to have some sort of back channel dialogue with the Tholians and now we’ve gotten the Gorn getting restless on the border out by Cestus.”

T’Lar’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The Gorn?”

Mitch nodded, his eyes returning to stare at his monitor. “Long range sensor buoys picked up a large object crossing over the border from Gorn space. I sent HOOD out for a look around. Their last report confirmed it was a derelict space station of some type and they were making preparations to board and explore. No updates since and the same sensor buoys intercepted increased Gorn transmissions in that sector before they went offline.”

“That is troubling.” The Vulcan conceded.

“I’ve sent FEYNMAN and CALLISTO to investigate but they are three days away and if HOOD can’t handle it I don’t know what a couple of tin cans are going to do.” He paused and drummed his fingers along his desk. “Too many balls in the air T’lar. Something has to give.”

If she were human she might have sighed. “Mitch we were aware of the explosive nature of this region. That’s is why our fleets have been placed here. It, and regions like it, were the impetuous for the CONSTITUTION program. We need only use them to their potential.”

For a moment Mitch looked like he was going to explode but in the end he chuckled. “I will not be drawn into this argument with you again. While we agree on the advantage of these ships I don’t think we will ever agree on their potential.”

Respectfully submitted,

VADM Mitch Corrigan - CO 6th Fleet - Andy

RADM T'lar - CO 12th Fleet - Alton



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Ready for a Fight

by David Kiel

<from The Little Things You Find>

"Zade is going to use that antique you keep strapped to your leg to let them know we're not push over's."

Corbett's mouth opened in response, but Steele beat him to it. "Stow it doc, she's the best shot we have and you need to focus your attention on a cure."

"Give it up Texan," Zade said sharply as she held out her hand.

Reluctantly Corbett pulled up his left trouser leg and retrieved his prize colt from its ankle holster and handed it to her.

"Don't worry your precious toy will be safe." She smiled knowing this was killing him.

"First my hat and now my pistol - soiled by Yankee hands. I just hope my great granddaddy is not turning over in his grave." With as much grace as he could muster Corbett turned and headed up the rocky slope.

"We're seriously not trusting our fate to his finding a cure are we." Zade whispered to the captain.

"As scary as this sounds," Steele responded as he watched Corbett make his way up the slope.

"Right now he's probably the only one who can figure this out."

"We're doomed," Zade mumbled as she went to take up a defensive position. <end snip>

Zade turned back to the Captain after the good Doctor had mumbled his way out of range of hearing, and a Vulcans hearing at that, just to be extra sure. She handed him the strange weapon he had made Stile give her. "By the way I can't hit the broad side of an agro-dome with a phaser much less this thing."

Stile looked flummoxed. "But, if you can't use it why did you take it?"

"Did you see the look in his eyes, it was classic. Next time make him give me his hat." Cedria smirked and chuckled to herself, deep green eyes flashing with mischief.

"I thought you were a triple rated shot, academy champion?"

"With ship's weapons yes, that's arc, gravitation, magnetic interference and subspace drift. Simple differential mathematics, I've been practicing that for a couple hundred years. I saw those things in the year I spent fighting the Alamo, they have kickback and make a lot of noise. Id be as likely to shoot any of us with that thing as a Gorn."

Steele pocketed the weapon and considered, "perhaps you can better help Corbett then?"

"No, no, no. Let not get crazy." Cedria reached over her shoulder and drew the meter long blade she had strapped to her back. "I'd wager I can do more damage with this then you can manage with that peashucker of Stile's."

"Peashooter."

"Whatever, I tried not to learn Texas slang while I was stuck there."


NRPG: Here's the right one. I blame it on the shiny new Christmas computer that doesn't have all of my old favorites and programs and also on the ship's Doctor and Texans in general.

Respectfully submitted;

David Kiel

Lt Cedria Zade,

NAV, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR: ORIGINS



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Back to the Line

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2262.006

MD 2.1132

Scene: Metron Sphere

<NRPG: Picking up from "The Little Things You Find">

The Metrons did say everything we needed was on the planet." Merrick said looking over at Kiska and smiling. He wondered if she caught his oblique meaning.

Corbett smiled broadly as well. "Identification is the first stage for a cure. Saxman and I can rig up crude plates to view blood samples under. From now on we shall have to do things the old fashion way."

"One question though doc," Sean put in. "Viruses are too small for light microscopes to resolve. Even very hi-mag ones as I recall."

"True," the cowboy winked, "But you can still tell a lot about a bug by what it is doing to a specimen. In any case, it gives us a way to test cures. Maybe the stuff growing around here will inhibit the bug's growth. We'll just have to test things and find out."

"With only 24 hours before we start getting symptoms," Sean mused.

"I know it sounds absurd, but I have an idea cooking that just may make it possible to get a handle on what we're dealing with." Corbett responded more for himself than anyone else around him.

"Any half-decent ideas are welcome now," Steele said coming over to join the conversation.

"We could send a scouting team back to where the equipment was last working," Sean proposed after deciding the doctor was not going to elucidate on his idea just yet.

"That means confronting the Gorn in the open," Steele pointed out warily.

"Maybe," Sean admitted with a nod, "But then again, they haven't followed us this far yet. Perahps they've even pulled back."

For several moments, Sean wasn't sure the CO would agree to the plan. Then Jack looked between Zade and Corbett and sighed at the thought of having to ride herd on them while the XO went off with his new girlfriend. "Aw hell," he finally said. Whatever you do, don't get killed. And don't fire first if the phasers start working. Take Saxman to run the medcorder along with four of the redshirts."

"Right," Sean said, grinning at the chance to stay with the lovely Kiska.

"And try flanking your way into where things last worked. At least you might be less likely to be spotted."

NRPG: Rearranging things.

Respectfully Submitted Jointly,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Desperate Times

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2262.015

Scene: Derliect Station


"Report!" The Gorn commander ordered as her subordinate returned from the observation post.

The executive officer's eye lids flickered quickly at the tone in his commander's voice but he chose to ignore the tone. Not that it mattered, he was the subordinate and his commander could address him in any fashion he chose. "Their advance guard has stopped and taken up what appears to be a defensive position. The main body is grouped together." He said in clear derision at the enemies foolishness. "One motar would kill them all." He hissed.

The Gorn commander turned to look in the direction of the Terrans before turning back to her executive officer. "I will remind you again we are not at war with these beings." *Not yet* she added to herself. "There will be no more attacks unless I authorize it. I will not remind you again."

The exec lowered his head. "Understood commander."

"Besides," She relented a little understandting her subordinate's frustration. "We do not have a mortar."

He looked up at her again and both smiled. Neither could admit there growing frustration at their current situation was slowly turning into worry. They had been snatched away from their warship more then 48 hours. They had no food and no weapons save for their personal side arms. And already two of their group had fallen into a coma from some sort of illness that these mysterious Metrons had afflicted them with. The Metron had told them they must find a cure or all die. But they were not scientists they were warriors. Unfortunately they were warriors who were going to die. He turned his head to face the unseen Terrans certain that this was some sort of trickery on their part. He knew his commander did not share this belief. It was unlike her to be so trusting. He turned back to her as she began to speak.

"I will go and see these Terrans. You will be in command while I am gone. If there is any treachery, kill them all."

"Yes commander!" He acknowledged. He knew she was walking to her death. These Terrans could not be trusted. But no matter once they killed her, and surely they would. He would avenge her and feast on their meat.


<<<NRPG>>>


C'mon guys things were on a roll after the holidays lets not let it drift off again.

Respectfully, Andy CAPT Jack Steele CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703 STARFLEET: ORIGINS


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Medical Factors

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2262.015

MD 2.1010

Scene: Metron Sphere

"Watch the boulder cluster on the left," Merrick said over his comm line. Whatever was causing their tricorders and communicators to blink out, they were far enough from it now to send signals to each other. And something told Sean that meant they were probably close enough to be fired at by some Gorn.

"Not seeing any movement," the redshirt reported. "Tricorder is still not getting much range. I think I'm probably reading clear up to about 12 meters or so."

"Peachy." Sean said, "I'll take it." He looked behind him to Kiska who was following close at his back and trying not to be a target. She held up her own device to scan him. After a few moments, Sean asked, "Well, will I live?"

Kiska flashed him a "that's not funny" kind of glare and then frowned at her readings. Sean took note of her reaction and realized he'd have to be a bit careful with his quirky sense of humor when the object her affection was in mortal peril. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay," he assured her.

This time she glanced up at him with softer eyes. "Thanks, that's better," she said. Sean suppressed a laugh. He felt like he was owed a doggie biscuit or something. Maybe if he'd been this responsive with Jeri …. He ruthlessly shut down that line of futile thinking. All he needed to do, all he could do, was make sure he did things right from the beginning with this girl.

He saw the worried shift in her expression before she could hide it. "Like I said, it will be okay," he said again, but the words held noticeably less conviction.

Kiska took a deep breath. "You have it. But in a few minutes," she added quickly, "I should have its DNA code mapped." They both knew that the biochem algorithms would then take their shot at modeling a cure.

"Team," Sean ordered over the net. Hold positions. We're getting things figured out over here. Even as he said it, Kiska began scanning herself. After a few moments she looked up, puzzled.

"I don't have it," she seemed both frightened and relieved. Sean could understand the later emotion but wondered at the former. Maybe she was worried about being left alone if everyone else died?

"Let's scan the others quick," he said. Moving from position to position, in short order they had their answer. She was the only one clear of the damned thing.

"Okay, so why then?" Sean asked aloud.

Kiska started running through the possibilities as they came to mind. "Blood factors? Some genetic trait? Maybe some gender difference? I'm the only woman here to scan. Maybe I have an antibody to something similar."

"Shouldn't the tricorder be able to analyze all that?" Sean wondered.

"Maybe. I'll give it a try."

Respectfully Submitted, Brian V. Mansur LCDR Sean Merrick FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703 ASR ORIGINS


Sent from my iPod


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Meeting the Neighbour

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2262.017

Scene: Derelict Base


“Captain.”


Jack looked over to Sean and then followed his glance. Off at the perimeter Gene Lowl was making hand gestures. “Something coming this way, take up defensive positions.” He ordered as he and the rest of the group ducked behind what little cover they could find.


“What’s he signalling now?” Merrick asked a few seconds later as he grasped his unworking phaser.


“Looks like ‘yellow alert’.” Jack answered as he watched Lowl repeat his hand signals three more times before he suddenly turned his attention back to whatever it was that had caused the commotion.


“What the frak does that mean?” Sean demanded.


“I imagine we’re about to find out.” All eyes of the landing party were on the opening pathway ahead and what was in all likelihood a scant 30 seconds seemed much longer before some movement was finally seen.


Jack had seen images of Gorn on many occasions and while the one that was slowly heading towards him looked exactly like those images he found it was not what he had expected. It looked like a cross between a lizard and a dinosaur with large lifeless eyes. It was still almost 100 meteres away and he could hear what he assumed was the beings breathing. It appeard to be over 200 centimeters and at least 200 kilograms. But even from this distance he could see there was little if any fat. If he was to describe it with one word it would have to be solid. It looked like a walking mass of muscle. Its gait was slow but fluid and its head swayed from side to side. It appeared to be unarmed save for a knife clipped to its belt on one side and some sort of device that appeared to be a tricorder on its other.


“There’s Gene again.” Merrick said breaking in to Jack’s thoughts. They both watched as the security officer signalled the group. “Looks like he is the only one.”


“Coming to talk?” Jack asked aloud just as the Gorn came to a halt. All was quiet, save for the raspy breathing, as the HOOD officers simply stared.


“I’ll go.” Merrick said.


Jack put a hand on his executive officer’s arm and shook his head. “No, I’ll go. They’ve got to pay me for something.” He slowly rose from his hiding place and noted that the Gorn had instantly focused its attention on him. Its head had snapped around with a speed that Jack had been surpised to see. He looked down at Sean. “If anything happens,” He paused, given the situation there weren’t many options to choose from. ”Do what you can.”


respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

STARFLEET: ORIGINS


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Our T-Rex Neighbor

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2262.019

MD

Scene: Metron Sphere

Sean cursed their luck for the hundredth time as not 20 minutes before, just when they thought they would have an answer to the virus, their equipment failed again. There had been nothing left to do then but fall back to the outcropping the others had taken shelter at. Now, it was up to Dr. Corbett and his improvised microscope.

And while the cowboy tinkered away, Sean watched Captain Steele move off towards what for all the world looked like a miniature tyrannosaurus rex. At least there was only one of the things. But if that hide were as thick as it looked, their pea shooter of a colt wasn't going to do more than sting it should things turn ugly.

"Sean?" Kiska asked. He was a bit taken aback by the familiar use of his name.

"Yeah?" he answered, not taking his eyes off the Captain.

"The doc has found something."

NRPG: Quick one to move us along and get the stories back in sync. Steve, you're all set to tell us that we have to dissect Kiska for the cure or something ;-)

Respectfully Submitted, Brian V. Mansur LCDR Sean Merrick FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703 ASR ORIGINS


Sent from my iPod


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Mr. Wizard’s Opus

by Steve Apple

SD 2262.019 MD:

Scene: Metron Sphere

“It’s working again.” Kiska shouted as she ran into the cave where the doctor had set up shop.

Corbett looked up from dismantling the tricorder in front of him. “What is working?” He asked a bit annoyed at the interruption.

“My tricorder that’s what,” Kiska excitedly answered. “It showed that Sean was infected.” The last part came out a bit less enthusiastically.

“Let me see,” he said as he took the device from her.

“Interesting,” was all he said as he adjusted the dials. After a moment he handed it back to her. “It’s dead again, but it gave me sufficient information to continue.”

Kiska gave him a look that could wither a Klingon. “Well…”

Corbett pushed his hat to the back of his head and smiled. “It’s an Adenovirus variant, a kind I’ve never seen before, but at least I know 2 things now.”

Kiska waited a moment then shouted at him when he didn’t seem to continue. “You want to let me in on the two things you now know.”

“Adenoviruses affect both humans and reptiles, so I can see why the Metrons picked it. The second thing is that they can be cured homeopathically.”

“Which means?” she asked.

“Which means I can possibly create a cure; however, the tricky part is getting the right concentration to kill it.” He answered smiling.

“Without a tricorder your little wooden toy isn’t going to be able to see what your cure might be doing to the virus.” She countered.

“I have abandoned that exercise in futility for a new idea. While you are right my dear my primitive lens device wouldn’t help; however, a scanning tunneling microscope could.”

“And you just happen to have one.” She added sarcastically.

“Well sort of, I have the necessary components.”

“Are you going to pull it out of your ass cowboy?” Zade interrupted coming into the cave.

“Eavesdropping, well I suppose as an uncouth Yankee you couldn’t help yourself.” He chided.

“I still have your pistol.” She shot back knowing that fact irritated him to no end. “So tell me genius how are you going to build the thing.”

“I’ll need one of those pig stickers you carry madam.”

“Huh?”

“One of your knives woman.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

Corbett took a deep breath and waited while she handed it over. “I’ll take the piezo sensor from the tricorder and remove its Unimorph disk.” He said prying the small disk apart. “Now I’ll just need to divide the electrode into four quadrants by scratching it with the knife and use a bit of molten silver to make a connection between these tricorder wires and the piezo disk.”

“And you got the silver from where?” Zade questioned fascinated at the absolute conviction of fools.

“Hat pin,” He said as he used his cigar lighter to melt it into solder.

“At least something on the stupid hat is good for something.”

“Hand me those steel washers I pulled from the tricorder?” He asked Kiska ignoring Zade. “They should be large enough to cover the piezo disk to make a mount.”

Corbett used the resin he had come across as glue and sealed the mounting washers to the disk and created a crude disk scanner. After a few minutes of assembly as the others watched, he looked up and smiled. “I could bore you with the details of the sample stage, scanner holder, and the approach mechanism if you like?”

“Please don’t,” Zade pleaded shaking her head. “So tell me professor since all our equipment is dead what are you going to power this with.”

“This cave is a treasure trove of goodies.” He said. “I found copper and zinc pellets along with a warm salt water pool.”

“I don’t see how that is a power source.” Kiska added.

“O ye of little faith, it’s all you need to make a Voltaic Pile,” he said excitedly then continued before either could ask him. “You soak bandages in the salt water and cut them into small circles, then just start stacking. Start with copper, zinc, and a bandage circle. You just keep piling them till you get about a four inch stack and then wrap it with the remaining bandages. Here’s the key if you start with copper make sure you end with zinc. The final step is to hook it up to the wires that lead from the tricorders power supply.”


“How did you learn to do this?” Zade questioned.


“Old 20th century television, as a child I liked to watch Mr. Wizard.”

“You learned this from a children’s show. I told the Captain not to trust a drunken…”


“Be gone Yankee worm woman.” Corbett interrupted. “I shall suffer your slings no more.”


“Gorn approaching.” One of the redshirts yelled into the cave causing both officers to stop bickering.


Corbett poked his head out of the cave and heard Steele’s voice


<<Snip from Andy’s Post “Meeting the Neighbour” 

“Coming to talk?”  Jack asked aloud just as the Gorn came to a halt.  All was quiet, save for the raspy breathing, as the HOOD officers simply stared.

“I’ll go.” Merrick said. 

Jack put a hand on his executive officer’s arm and shook his head.  “No, I’ll go.  They’ve got to pay me for something.”  He slowly rose from his hiding place and noted that the Gorn had instantly focused its attention on him.  Its head had snapped around with a speed that Jack had been surpised to see.  He looked down at Sean.  “If anything happens,”  He paused, given the situation there weren’t many options to choose from. ”Do what you can.”

<<End Snip

“Bray, as I live and breathe.” Corbett shouted from high up on the hill causing everyone to look in his direction.


The Gorn Commander was taken aback at the sound of her name. Looking up to the crest of the hill she saw a man in a strange head covering waving at her. Only one Terran as far as she knew wore that.


“Ssstile,” she rasped.


“You know that lizard?” Zade asked unsure of whether to shoot him for treason.


“She was the Gorn head of security on Cestus III.” He answered. “We met over a barter misunderstanding, but that is a tale for another time.”


“So she arrested you for smuggling, personally I would have stabbed you.”


“Yes well, fortunately for me Bray is a civil being from the southern part of the Gorn home world. Unlike you she understands manners and we have been friends for many years. Now out of my way woman there is diplomacy a foot and while the Gorn may consider your slug tasty, I doubt they wish to converse with it.” With that he set off down the hill.


NRPG: I figured since I was posted to Cestus III I’d throw it in.

Respectfully Submitted,


Steve Apple Stile Corbett, MD CMO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703 ASR ORIGINS

6th Fleet



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Expedient Allies

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2261.024

Scene: Derelict Station


<snip>

“Bray, as I live and breathe.” Corbett shouted from high up on the hill causing everyone to look in his direction.


The Gorn Commander was taken aback at the sound of her name. Looking up to the crest of the hill she saw a man in a strange head covering waving at her. Only one Terran as far as she knew wore that.


“Ssstile,” she rasped.


“You know that lizard?” Zade asked unsure of whether to shoot him for treason.


“She was the Gorn head of security on Cestus III.” He answered. “We met over a barter misunderstanding, but that is a tale for another time.”


“So she arrested you for smuggling, personally I would have stabbed you.”


“Yes well, fortunately for me Bray is a civil being from the southern part of the Gorn home world. Unlike you she understands manners and we have been friends for many years. Now out of my way woman there is diplomacy a foot and while the Gorn may consider your slug tasty, I doubt they wish to converse with it.” With that he set off down the hill.

</snip>


Jack didn’t know if he felt more relieved at this fortunate turn of events or surprised. He should have known that if a female was involved, even a Gorn, the irrepressible doctor would know her. He grinned appreciatively at the doctor as he jogged up beside him.


“Good to see you again Bray. I see the arm has healed well.”


“Thanks to your minisstrationsss.” The Gorn lowered her head slightly at the doctor before turning back to Jack.


“I’m Jack Steele of the Federation Starship HOOD.”


“Bray of the Gorn warship PREDATOR. Why are you on this station?”


“This station crossed into Federation space. We boarded her to ascertain if she was a threat and to render assistance. Are you and your crew stationed here?”


“We are no where near Federation space Sssteele!” She growled and Jack wondered if it was her imagination that had she had suddenly seemed to get much larger.


“And you’re crew?” Jack persisted.


“Like you we found this craft in our space. We are investigating.”


Stile rolled his eyes. “Look we don’t have time for the stubborn commander routine from either of you.” He looked at Bray. “We can argue over who’s space this is later. First, did you meet the Metrons?”


Bray looked from Stile to Jack then back to Stile. “Yesss. Surely you are not alliesss with them?”


“No but I’d wager they’ve snared us in the same trap.”


“We’ve been inflicted with somesort of sickness.” Jack added. “We are trying to cure ourselves but our equipment is powerless. Have you been afflicted?”


Bray paused as she considered the situation. The human doctor was a friend but her training and recent events had told her people that the Federation was not to be trusted. She knew that this region of space was infact contested between their two governments. This was Gorn space of that she was certain. But the Terran’s claimed they had not know this and had inadvertently encroached on it. The negotiations continued even as she stood here. Would her government condone her allying with Terrans even to save her crew. Or condemn her? Finally she spoke. “Yes we are afflicted. We do not have the knowledge to cure ourselves.” She glanced at Stile. “As the doctor well knows the medical arts are not something my people excel at.”


“And how about your equipment?” Stile asked.


Again the long pause as she considered. “It has power.” She finally replied.


<<<NRPG>>>


Just a quick one to move us along a bit. Not exactly sure how much left we have here. Team up with the Gorn, develop a cure, have the Metrons pat us on the head for working together etc. Lots of room to develop some brief ‘friendship’s with your Gorn counterpart etc and then head back to the ship. But feel free to expand add.


Respectfully,


CAPY Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

STARFLEET: ORIGINS



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Ahoy There!

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2262.028

Scene: Airlock, Deck 6



“Lieutenant Ngyuen to the bridge.”


[Gar here. What is it lieutenant?]. The Andorian was clearly perturbed at the call.


“I *told* you not to call the bridge.” Ensign Sommers, Nguyen’s partner whispered.


Tom waved him silent. “Commander I think I’ve made a discovery about the station out there.”


There was a long pause which caused Sommers to wince before shaking his head. [You think?]


“Excuse me sir. I *have* made a discovery. There is what appears to be a WAYFARER class merchant ship that has impacted on the station. It appears to have internal power.”


Another pause. [Mr. Ngyuen given the Metrons have shut down communications and all external sensors how exactly have you discovered this?] Tom looked over at his friend with raised eyebrows, the tone was still not exactly warm and fuzzy but it had definitely softened.


“Well commander I’m in the Deck F starboard fore airlock and I’ve been using a telescope to examine the station.”


[Stand by.]


“Oh that doesn’t sound good.” Sommers groaned. “Not good at all.”


Less then 90 seconds later, much faster then Nguyen had thought possible, Commander Gar stepped into the compartment. “Let me see.” He ordered. He stared intently into the telescope for more then a minute before turning back to the two junior officers and cursing under his breath. “I’m taking volunteers to lead a rescue mission.”


“That’s me sir.”



“Understand me lieutenant. The priority is to get HOOD out of danger. If there is any possibility of that I will do so. If that means leaving you and your team behind I won’t hesitate. We’ll of course do whatever we can to get to you but you need to know the consequences, so will the members of your team?”


“I understand commander.”


Gar stared at him for a few more seconds before his face softened. “We still have several hours before the Metron deadline expires and I don’t anticipate anything changing. All the same I would suggest expediency.”


“Yes sir!” Ngyuen replied before trotting down the corridor to assemble his team.



<<<NRPG>>>


Was just remembering at the start of the mission it was a one man merchant ship that ‘discovered’ the station. Just giving us something else to do. While Stile and Bray cook up their cure.


Respectfully,


Andy


CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

STARFLEET: ORIGINS



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: You Should Have Knocked First

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2262.031

MD 2.1150

Scene: Derelict Ship on the Station

Nygen checked the chrono for the third time in as many minutes. "How long is that cutting job going to take?" he called back to the other engineering crewmen.

"It is tough working in these suits," one of the redshirts complained.

"Of course it is," Nygen retorted. "Now, how much longer?"

Several seconds later, one of the other voices replied, "Another minute."

Nygen humphed impatiently. It his way of covering his nervousness, he knew. With the away team inside that ball thing being incommunicado and this ghost ship just sitting there on top of it, who wouldn't be on edge? Moreover, they had thought things would be simple as mating their universal collar to the WAYFARER class merchant and opening the door.

No such luck. The thing was locked up tight with a combination code they couldn't break. So, that left breaking out a good old fashion blowtorch to crack it open.

"We're through!" the first voice announced excitedly.

"Bout time," Nygen quipped and unharnessed from his chair to go to the back. "What have you … " The words died in his throat as he saw the interior of the merchant ship.

<Tag>


NRPG: Come on! Somebody write with me here!

Respectfully Submitted, Brian V. Mansur LCDR Sean Merrick FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703 ASR ORIGINS

Sent from my iPod

Retrieved from "http://boi.alt-starfleet-rpg.com/index.php?title=ORIGINS:_USS_Hood_January_2011&oldid=27970"