USS OLYMPIC: The Beginning (part 4) From: etlmksr@etlxd20.ericsson.se (Mark Slater) Date: Mon, 21 Mar 94 17:31:26 GMT Subject: USS OLYMPIC - Crews Quarters Dwight was now walking down the corridor on the Officers' Quarters Deck, having just been relieved by the evening watch. It had been a hectic day and it [wasn't] over yet. At least he had some time to relax. He [entered] his quarters and went straight through to the sonic shower to freshen up. Once finished, he dressed himself in some casual clothes he had the replicator produce for him. These were more reminiscent of late 20th Century Earth than modern day Betazed. That was his Grandfather's influence, an influence which his mother, who was fully Betazed, didn't approve of. Only his father, who was [half]-Betazoid/ [half]-Human understood this desire, for he too [possessed] the same dress sense. This was the one thing that Robert and his father really shared. Despite being [half]-Betazoid, his father was not telepathic or even empathic. He even had trouble receiving thoughts from either his wife or his son. This had sometimes [put up a] barrier between them. Having dressed, Dwight decided it was time for the Betazoid Meditation State. This would help to review the past days events, to draw on, and be strengthened by them. He knelt on the floor and slowly released his mind. From this view point, Dwight was free to experience all that had happened, unencumbered by any physical restraints. He played through all the preparation for the mission, being given command of the Olympic, and the mix of emotions that had caused. [He reflected on] the maneuver that could so easy have destroyed the ship, the satisfaction when all went well, and the pride and confidence that Lexia had showed in him when their minds had briefly touched after she had returned from the Nova. All this helped him to direct his being and grow as only a Betazoid could. It also refreshed him, making him more alert. He then let his mind wander mentally around the ship. He became aware of a mystical music. He stopped to listen, strangely drawn to it. It refreshed him as it washed over him, like a slow running stream on a hot summer's day. Then Dwight realized that it must have been Ens. LuCypher. He drew back, slightly frightened of getting entangled in [the song], as so many Betazoids before him had. Then he realized that the music became softer as he drew back, as though the music was coming from a greater distance away. Knowing he could escape from the music, while Ens. LuCypher was at some distance, Dwight started to draw close to it again. Then he stopped as he became [aware] of another mind, a Betazoid mind also exploring. He reached out tentatively, questioning if the other would permit contact. *Welcome Lieutenant,* came the answer. *Why don't you come and join me in my quarters?* Then it dawned on Dwight, he was in contact with Ambassador D'raan Andrazhn. *If I'm not disturbing you, it would be my honor to join you, sir.* *No, Lieutenant, please come. I'm sure we will have much to talk about.* Dwight withdrew back into his quarters, then back into his body. He was slightly nervous at meeting the Ambassador, yet overjoyed at the invitation. He hurried out of his quarters and headed for the Ambassador's. Respectfully Submitted Lieutenant R. Dwight (CSciO) USS Olympic NCC-[0100] etlmksr@etlxd20.ericssons.se NRPG: OK Brian, I've taken up your implied to visit the Ambassador. I haven't yet said what, if any house, my Betazoid family is related to, although in my orginal post to ALB, I did say that my Grandfather (who's Human) was a Starship Captain (- hence the reason why Dwight entered Starfleet) and my mother was on the Ambassadorial staff when she was younger. If you wish to fill in/make up some of my family background, feel free. Oh, hope you didn't mind me copying you idea of LuCypher's music - I did have half a mind to use it before I read your post. Again, could someone please post this on to alt.starfleet.rpg Thanks Mark From: etlmksr@etlxd20.ericsson.se (Mark Slater) Date: Tue, 22 Mar 94 10:48:49 GMT Subject: USS OLYMPIC - Guest Quarters SD 60322:0508 Dwight stood outside the door to the quarters of Ambassador Andrazhn as it tweedled, indicating his presence. As a warm presence touch his mind-- *Enter Lieutenant, and be welcome* Dwight walked in as the door opened and admitted him to the Ambassador's quarters. In front of him stood the Ambassador, a tall, serene man, whose presence emanated warmth and peace. *Please Lieutenant, sit. Can I furnish you with any refreshment?* *Thank you, Ambassador, I would appreciate a coffee--white, no sugar.* The Ambassador walked over to the replicator and ordered a coffee for Dwight and an herbal tea for himself. He then placed [the beverages] on the small table in front of the chair in which Dwight now sat, and then the Ambassador sat in the chair opposite. "Tell me, Lieutenant, or may I call you Robert--what part of Betazed do you come from?" "Robert will do fine, sir. I come from the Southern Continent. My mother is from the 4th House of Betazed, and for 40 years, she served with the Ambassadorial Directorate of Alien Cultures until she retired 5 years ago" "Not Mrs. Endora Dwight, First Assistant to Ambassador Kamar?" "Yes sir" "Why, I knew your mother. Her powers of telepathy helped Ambassador Kamar in many situations, particularly in the negotiations with the Sheliak. Yes, now I can see it. Her likeness [shows strongly] in your face, and it explains you strong telepathic ability, even though you are part human." "Well I am only [one-quarter] human sir, and I still haven't yet found the limit of my Telepathic powers. There is even evidence of some psychic [ability] in my Human ancestry. My Grandfather, Capt. Robert Dwight, who I'm named after, has told me of incidents throughout my human family history [suggesting] psychic powers, including telepathy, telekinesis, and even knowledge of future events. How true these are, no one really knows. There's even a story of an ancestor in Medieval England being burned as a witch. I do know that my ESPer rating on the Starfleet Psi Test was very high." "Interesting" commented the Ambassador, "Would you mind if we merged and I explored your abilities?" "No sir. It would be an honor." At this, both men adopted the Betazoid Meditation stance and slowly cleared their minds. Then Dwight once again felt the presence of the Ambassador's mind touch his own. As in any sharing, Dwight became aware of the Ambassador's feelings and experiences. He felt the joy the Ambassador had experiences at finally being able to acknowledge and get to know his daughter Lexia Tremaine, and also the pain at losing his other daughter, Sarah. He also felt the extreme loneness the Ambassador had been exposed to as he wandered the deserted decks of the Nova after the crew had disappeared. Now he felt the Ambassador's mind slowly retracing its steps as the two now withdrew from each other. As both came back to a conscious level, the Ambassador looked at Dwight. "You have much potential, if only you could receive the proper training. I must speak with my daughter. I'm sure she can help you develop and grow." Dwight wasn't quite sure how to react to this. The Ambassador had revealed things about himself no one else had before. He didn't know quite what to say. "I feel this has taken you by surprise, Robert," commented the Ambassador. "Don't let it worry you. It is part of your heritage, and therefore something to explore and not to be afraid of. Do you wish me to talk to Lexia?" Dwight thought for a moment and then [realized] he didn't really have much chose in the matter. He was who he was, and if he didn't find out about himself, then he would never realize the full potential of who he was supposed to be. "If you would, sir," he finally replied. Respectfully Submitted Lieutenant R. Dwight (CSciO) USS Olympic NCC-[0100] etlmksr@etlxd20.ericssons.se NRPG Brian, you can either take our meeting on from here, or we can let it end here. Lexia/Judi - I'll leave it up to you if you want to pursue the option of [helping] Dwight realize hi full Betazoid potential. Also, this is advance warning that, come the end of this week, I will be moving over to Sweden on a short term contract for a min. of 3 months. This will probably mean my email address will change. This will possibly result in me going off line a few days, so I'll let [everyone] know near the time, before I leave. Once installed in Sweden, I'll inform everyone of my new email address and whether or not I have access to the newsboard (I'm not sure if I will). More details as I get them. Mark Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 15:20:40 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: SICKBAY I NRPG--A slight delay on my part, but here it comes: the meeting of the Olympic's two medical officers.... ******************** SD: 60322.1429 Adam had just returned to Sickbay from the Hololink of Space Place when Dr. Mohning rushed up to him. "We've got problems," she said. Adam tensed. "Is it Jennifer?" he said, moving toward Dr. Switzer's biobed. Nichole Mohning put out a hand to stop Adam. "No," she said, her face flushed with seething anger. "Someone has accessed _my_ files on ship's personnel, Adam. I'm not happy." Adam raised an eyebrow. "Who, what, and when?" Nichole passed him her PADD. "See for yourself." Adam glanced at the PADD. "Jina Carson's medical and psychological files...just a few minutes ago." He looked at the other doctor, who was glaring at him, as if to ask 'So? What are you going to _do_?' "Did you inquire [as] to who asked for the files?" Nichole flushed. "Of course I did! I'm not a fool!" Adam raised his hands as if to ward off Dr. Mohning's anger. "Fine, Nichole, fine...who was it?" Nichole Mohning's voice grew low. "An Ensign Lawrence." "Ensign Lawrence?" asked Adam. A smile appeared on his face. "Lexia must have informed him that he's Ship's Counselor. That would explain his access to our records." Dr. Mohning nodded. "But isn't it customary for a new Medical officer to introduce himself to the CMO _before_ accessing records which might not be needed? I remind you of Starfleet Medical Regulation Delta-four-six, Article 3--" "Thank you, Doctor," interrupted Adam, handing Dr. Mohning her PADD and fixing a steely look on her. "I'll be sure to pass along your good wishes to Counselor Lawrence when he arrives. I assume you have research to do?" Nichole Mohning's mouth opened slightly in amazement, then shut. She stomped off to her office. Adam shook his head slightly, then began to make his way to Dr. Switzer. The sound of the main doors of Sickbay opening and hearing those precise steps walking in was enough for Adam to turn around. Ensign--and now Counselor--T.E. Lawrence walked in and rushed over to Adam, shaking his hand before Adam even knew what was happening. "Lawrence here," he said, looking around at Sickbay. "I believe I've come at the right time to assist?" [Somehow,] Adam realized that Lawrence was [subtlely gauging] his pulse with [his handshake], and gently extracted himself from the ensign's hand. "Counselor Lawrence," he said smoothly, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. "Welcome to Olympic Medical. While I'm sure you're making sure all is well, it is _not_ necessary for you to take my pulse as we shake hands." Lawrence flushed. "My apologies, Dr. Crown," he said. "You seemed, well..." "Busy?" asked Adam. Lawrence nodded. Adam smiled. "What else would you expect from a CMO?" he asked. "But I appreciate your concern, though there are others who would benefit more from your ministrations." Lawrence nodded again. "Like Lt. Carson," he said. "May I see her?" Adam frowned. "Ensign Lawrence," he said, emphasizing the young man's rank, "I would appreciate it if you and I could sit down and get a few things straight between us." Although Adam knew that only a few days ago he too was an ensign, he wanted to get Lawrence's attention. Judging by the expression on the Counselor's face, he had gotten it. He gestured to the CMO's office. "If you would?" he asked politely. Lawrence flushed and both men headed for Adam's office. When the doors had shut, Adam moved over to the replicator. "Like anything?" he asked. "No, thank you, sir." said Lawrence. He was still stinging from Dr. Crown's comments only seconds before. This was not what he had expected--not by a long shot. "Iced tea," said Adam. A tall, frosty glass appeared, filled with a golden-brown liquid. Adam moved behind his desk, sat down, and looked at the Counselor thoughtfully. "Counselor Lawrence," Adam began, then decided to change his tack. "May I call you Thomas?" he asked. Lawrence gave a noncommittal shrug. "Thomas, I can appreciate you wanting to get into the job at hand. It's the same way I began," said Adam, taking a sip of his tea and setting the glass down. "But it has come to my attention that you began to access Medical records before you presented yourself to me here in Sickbay. To be honest, I'm surprised." Lawrence looked at him. "Why's that?" He wasn't sure he understood what Adam Crown was getting at. Adam grimaced. "Because when you did that, you got _her_ mad." He gestured out the office window at Nichole Mohning, who appeared to be arguing with Lab Tech Jamison over some test results. "That's Dr. Nichole Mohning--one of my staff physicians and the keeper of all the Medical records. And, as she reminded me, what you did went against some Starfleet Medical regulation, or some such nonsense. Personally, I don't care." Lawrence took a look at Nichole Mohning, then looked back at Adam. "Looks ferocious," he commented. Adam winked at him. "_Is_ ferocious," he corrected. "Still," he said, taking another sip of his drink. "it _would_ have been nice to have met you [on a more formal level] before you jumped into your work." Lawrence nodded. "My apologies, Dr. Crown," he said. Adam shook his head. "As I'm sure Lexia's told you, you can call me Adam when other Bridge officers are around. Of course, when there's other staff, you're Counselor Lawrence and I'm Dr. Crown. Deal?" Adam asked. Lawrence smiled. "Deal," he said. "Good," said Adam. "Now, let's take a look at our Lt. Carson." He got up and allowed Lawrence to go first out the door and over to Jina Carson's bed. The beautiful young lieutenant was sleeping soundly, and Lawrence stepped back from the bed. "I'll look at her records before doing anything," he said. "I'll need to know all that before going any further." He looked at Adam. "Doctor?" But Adam Crown wasn't really listening. He was too busy staring at an empty bed...one which used to contain one Commander Alex DiFalco.... "Honor," he whispered to himself, a slight smile on his face. "On his honor...." Then he shook his head and chuckled to himself. |Alex...you old liar,| he thought to himself. |This is your one Get-Out-of-Sickbay-free card. Hope it was worth it.| ************************************* NRPG--And that was how they met...officially! Jeff: Adam's not always this way, believe me. He just likes to get some things cleared up and out of his way. Less paperwork! :) Armin: You _will_ be passing that card to me soon, right? Adam has to put that back in his Medical Monopoly game.... :) Lt.(jg) Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 16:20:48 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: SICKBAY II SD: 60322.1551 Adam Crown excused himself from Counselor Lawrence, who was already on his way to see his office and make preparations to meet with his staff. Walking over to Dr. Jennifer Switzer's bed, he caught the eye of Arundel, who immediately moved to Adam's side. Jennifer Switzer was finally awake. Although Adam had treated many of the energy burns she had suffered at the hands of one of the time distortions, a faint trace crossed her left cheekbone. It would heal soon, thought Adam, but for now it looked as if Dr. Switzer had been soundly hit in the face. "Jennifer," said Adam softly, taking the doctor's hand in his. "How are you feeling?" The concern in his voice was evident. Jennifer Switzer smiled weakly and gave Adam's hand a squeeze. "Much better, thank you." She looked at Arundel. "My thanks to you as well, Arundel. If you hadn't been with Adam, I don't know what would have happened." The Aurexian nurse's face wore the same calming expression it had always had. He nodded. "It would have still been fine, I trust, Doctor." He turned to Adam. "Dr. Crown, I believe I know why I am here. [You are interested in] what Dr. Switzer saw, and what I recall from her healing." Adam nodded. "Exactly. Jenn, I need to know what happened to you and how you received the energy burns." Dr. Switzer took a deep breath, and started. "I was finishing up with Lt. Swain as you remember, Adam...it had taken a bit longer than both you or I had expected, and I was trying to hurry back to Transporter Room 3. I heard a noise behind me...like fabric brushing against itself. When I turned around, there was a woman standing before me." She smiled weakly again. "I suppose I thought that I was so lost in Lt. Swain's case that I hadn't heard the doors open. So I asked her what I could do for her. "She asked for 'Lt. Crown,' but I said that you were unavailable and could I do anything to help," said Jennifer, shifting uncomfortably. "I looked away for a minute--to put away one of the medical tricorders I was using, though the way she was kind of slurring her words, I should have thought to use it. When I looked back," she said, her eyes wide with the fear of remembering, "she was fading...and lightning was coursing all over her body. She reached out--like she was in pain or something--and I wanted to help...so I touched her," cried out Dr. Switzer, closing her eyes as if to shield herself from the pain and memory. Adam squeezed Jennifer Switzer hand in support. "Let me show you something, Jennifer." He pulled out of his pocket a small holopicture chip, sitting it on the bedside table and activating it. Instantly the chip's holocircuits flashed and a picture began to form of a woman. It was a full-length picture of a Starfleet officer. The woman had long, auburn hair and green eyes, dressed in the gold of Security, lieutenant's pips at her collar. She was smiling at the three people who were staring at the holopicture. "Is that the woman you saw?" asked Adam of Jennifer Switzer, his heart beginning to beat faster. If this is what he thought...then Arundel had not lied to him. |But why would he have, Adam?| he asked himself, knowing that the voice in his mind was right. Dr. Jennifer Switzer paled and began to tremble. "That's her," she said, suddenly fearful. "That was the Lt. Commander who was here." Adam was shocked, but then caught what Dr. Switzer was saying. "Wait," he said quickly. "She was a Lt. Commander? Are you sure?" Jennifer Switzer nodded. "She was in Command Red too, wearing Lt. Commander's pips, Adam--that I'm very sure of." "Indeed, Adam," said Arundel, his musical voice slow and sure. "It is what I saw during the healing." Now it was Adam Crown's turn to pale. "My God," he whispered to himself. "She _is_ alive...my sister Tabitha _must_ be alive...." ************************************ NRPG--Or _is_ she? The conversation--and the mystery--continues later.... Lt.(jg) Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 16:58:22 -0800 (PST) From: Judith B Marko Subject: USS OLYMPIC Captain's Quarters After her meeting with Ensign Lucypher, Captain Lexia Tremaine went to her quarters to think about what she would need to do to assist the Betazoids aboard with the effects of his song. Her new understanding was giving her some ideas. She thought she'd be able to handle it by herself, and what she had in mind would not only protect the telepaths but enhance them as it had her. She would get to work on it after tonight's meeting in the Ready Room. Lexia sat and began to prepare for that meeting. There was a lot to be done, and she made careful notes. There would be some surprises in store for a few and some expected changes for others. Lexia also began a subspace transmission to Admiral Gerber requesting citations for several of the officers and commendations in their official records for all who had taken part in the end to the Romulan threat to the Guardian. Lexia tapped her comm badge. "This is the Captain. [There will be a meeting of] all bridge officers in the Ready Room in 2 hours. This includes both Olympic officers and those who will be transferring to the Nova. I need you all there. Only Lt. Carson is exempt." Captain Lexia Tremaine USS OLYMPIC NRPG: This is to give you all time to finish up what you're doing before the meeting. Kurt, I'm going to incorporate your suggestion as to how Lexia should handle [Stae-faan's] 'maerel'. She'll be able to do it herself and will do it in her Pool right after the meeting. Thank you also for playing Ens. Lawrence's role while he's away, [as] per his request. From: gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu (Gwendolyn M Brophy) Date: Sat, 19 Mar 1994 19:21:55 -0500 Subject: USS NOVA TO USS OLYMPIC Klaen reluctantly left Sullivan in the Olympic Engineering room to go and check with Bleyn on the rest of the ship. Throwing one last backwards glance at the machine which she would probably never see again, she heaved a sigh of regret. Pity, she thought. It was a work of art. Finding that the Olympic was doing fine, she decided that she needed a rest. All the ups and downs of this mission were getting to her. The knots in her shoulders seemed painfully permanent. Taking her leave from Engineering, she wearily went back to her quarters, where she found a message informing her of a meeting later in the Ready Room. Grumbling, she peeled herself out of her uniform, and jumped into a hot, relaxing bath. Laying there, with the steam filling the room, and her head cushioned on a pillow, she felt her mind beginning to drift. She wondered what happened here on the Olympic, and down on the surface. From what she knew, no one had died. She assumed everyone was doing fine. Well, you'll find out tonight, won't you? She wondered about her future on board the Nova. Although the smaller size may seem disadvantageous, she thought she'd prefer it. It made crew interaction easier. She wondered about Ensign Paul, whom she'd only met very briefly, and who would be transferring to the Nova. She hadn't had time to see what position he would assume, but she knew he'd be good at it. Thinking of the people who would transfer, her thoughts turned to DiFalco. From what she knew of him, his sheer stubbornness would get him through any situation. Would he still be first officer? Or would he climb even higher? Dreamily, Klaen left that line of thought and sank under the bubbles. Sighing deeply, when she came to the surface, she gave in to the sleep which was courting her. Her last thought was that she should've set the alarm, but she was too far gone to care. Please don't wake me, No, don't shake me. Leave me where I am... I'm only sleeping, Lt. N'Jira Klaen gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu From: "...Paul" Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 21:28:55 -0500 Subject: USS Olympic Ready Room Stardate 60322.2129 Paul dropped a leg out of his lotus position on the soft cushioned chair in the Olympic's Ready Room. The Planet of the Guardian of Forever was nearly fully eclipsed by the sun it revolved around. The running lights of the Nova were very clear now, over to the side. Paul's dangling leg reached the floor easily, thanks to his extremely tall stature. With a twist of his ankle, he slowly spun the chair around. His pulse was normal, his heartbeat no longer a thudding piston. The high of adrenaline was almost completely gone. His mind focused on nothing, his consciousness flittering around in the darkened room. "Computer, time to briefing?" A quick flash of concern washed over Paul. He'd been sitting dormant for a while, and had no real intention of returning to his temporary position at OPS, but thought perhaps he was shirking his duties. But long ago, on Aramonde IV, he had learned not to question his instinctive actions. |Those who hesitate are lost,| thought Paul, who then wondered who'd originally said it. Questioning your actions requires hesitation, and Paul had amended the phrase. 'Those who think twice are lost.' Images of Aramonde IV came back after a while. Paul closed his eyes to sharpen the picture of the daydream. The two small moons of Aramonde IV cast slight shadows on all the trees in the forest. The greenish-brown bark gave off a strange hue in the moonlight, a color that couldn't be focused on by human eyes. The end result was a field [of] ghost-like patches of light, similar to what Paul had learned of "Will-O'-The-Wisps" of Earth's marshes. The night was silent. Adrenaline was running up and down Paul's awaiting body. Paul stood in the shadow of a tree, remaining out of the light of the twin moons, and appearing to the unwary as part of the thick trunk. Paul waited. Finally, the whisper of soft footfalls pounded through Paul's alert ears. The pace indicated to Paul that this was one of the larger Antigers; large, ferocious carnivores with six legs, and furry patterning similar to the tigers of Earth (and named by one of the surviving crash landers). The six legs moved in pairs of two; Paul could detect the slight timing difference between the fall of one paw and the pair. The beast's breathing was almost inaudible. When Paul heard it clearly, he knew it must be only a few feet away. Paul's eyes scanned all the lit areas he could see. Nothing. The snap of a twig gave away the creature's position: It was right behind Paul's tree. The grip of Paul's knife was starting to become moist with sweat, and Paul adjusted his grip accordingly. With his left hand, he reached up and grabbed the bough just over his head. Slowly, silently, Paul pulled his body up the side of the tree, the bark scratching his back ever so slightly. The creature pounced on Paul's old position; it had been stalking him! The great beast stopped on his target, surprised to find no quarry. It looked to its left, it looked to its right. Then it looked up. Paul's knife fell quickly, with the weight and power of his entire body behind it. The clean blade plowed through the beast's skull, between the eyes, and back into its brain. The Antiger managed a slight rumble before quickly falling flat, completely paralyzed for the scant seconds it survived the blow. Paul's body could now feel the adrenaline overloading his senses. He let out a breath, leaned back, and retrieved the bloodied weapon from the skull of his victim. With a second, master stroke, Paul separated the body from the useless head. He tied a rope to the back legs, and began to haul the massive carcass through the woods to his outpost encampment... Paul returned to the Olympic. "Computer, time to briefing" Paul sighed, and spun around in his chair a few times before staring again at the Nova. Tactical Officer seemed to be the way to go. ...Paul Lieutenant, Junior Grade. Pending Assignment to USS Nova. Date: Fri, 25 Mar 1994 02:17:53 +0500 (EST) From: Lord Admiral Nelson Subject: [USS OLYMPIC: Sickbay] StarDate: 60326.0100 Non-RPG: This is a second interim post from me for the vacationing Jeff/Ens. Lawrence. It takes place just before the big Ready Room meeting on the OLYMPIC. After their brief meeting, Counselor Lawrence made his way from Dr. Crown's office to one of the smaller side offices, where he began his review of Lt. Carson's records. |An interesting man, this CMO,| Lawrence thought. He wasn't quite sure what to make of him. At the very least, he knew the man was exceptionally perceptive. Not one person in a thousand would have known that he was able to discern a person's pulse though a simple handshake. As to the rest of the meeting, well, his impression was that a lot more had been going on in Sickbay than what had happened to Lt. Carson, and he more than half suspected that at least part of whatever it was had some _personal_ significance for the CMO. With a mental wave, Esn. Lawrence dismissed further speculation along those lines. He had more immediate concerns to deal with. The Counselor spent the next hour or so pouring over the records. In them, he saw several clues suggesting that Lt. Carson might react in just this manner if subject to certain, specific, traumatic experiences. It was more than just encountering the Romulans, Lawrence surmised. There was something else---something unexpected which raised doubts in someone or something she had thought totally trustworthy. The source of that doubt, though, was something these records couldn't tell him. He would have to talk with those who were present, especially Commander DeFalco. He also thought that Captain Tremaine, with her skills and background, (not to mention greater knowledge of the circumstances), would be of great assistance. (NRPG: Umm...Judi--Armin, please feel free to put in an interesting interview with the counselor here, revealing whatever clues you think will help Lt. Carson). Lawrence shut off the computer, preparing to leave. He had to be in the Ready Room shortly. He stepped out of the office almost directly into the path of Dr. Mohning. There was no need of his advanced training in interpreting physical minutia for him to see the glare of disapproval in her steely gaze. It was clear he would have to address the situation at once. "Dr. Mohning, if you have a moment..." he said. Her eyes offered him no reprieve. "Go ahead, _Ensign_," she intoned. He smiled, brushing off the intended slight. "I have come to understand that you are an ardent adherent to Star Fleet regulations, especially those involving the records of personnel." Dr. Mohning let out a small huff. "Your point?" she asked. "I only wished to let you know that I agree whole-heartedly with your diligence." "Oh really, Ensign? Why do I find that surprising?" "You are concerned regarding my accessing Lt. Carson's records for use here in Sickbay." "Ensign, Star Fleet Medical Regulation Delta-four-six---" "--is part of Regulation Sub-section K involving _non-mission_ protocols," Lawrence interjected. Nichole looked at him, plainly caught off guard. "And even if it weren't under such a heading," he continued. "I believe Dr. Crown's greeting us in transporter room 4 and our exchange of introductions could be considered sufficient for fulfilling those requirements." "Perhaps," she said, still skeptical, but her attitude was definitely softening. "It was also my impression that Captain Tremaine placed a _very_ high priority on Lt. Carson's recovery. Proper procedure requires that the Counselor be informed on any patient's medical and psych history before developing any course of treatment. I think it to be entirely in the best interests of Lt. Carson that I not delay work on her situation by dallying overmuch on primarily symbolic protocols. Do you agree?" "Well, when you put it that way, I don't see how I can win the argument," she conceded grudgingly. Looking at Esn. Lawrence, she realized that this was the second time in recent days that a Johnny-come-lately ensign had gotten the best of her. |They must be turning out a higher quality graduate from the Academy these days,| she surmised. "I'm glad we were able to resolve the misunderstanding," Lawrence said. "I have a meeting in the Ready Room to attend now, but I will be back later to continue my work." "Don't think that this means I'm going to be changing anything about the way I take care of the records, Counselor," she challenged. "I will still insist that all regulations be properly followed." "Oh, but I'm counting on it, Dr. Mohning," Lawrence replied with a clever grin. "I'm counting on it." Respectfully Submitted, Esn. T.E. Lawrence Ship's Counselor USS OLYMPIC Kurt Nelson (filling in for Jeff) Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 23:50:56 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC SICKBAY--->READY ROOM SD: 60322.2321 Dr. Adam Crown sat heavily in the chair next to Dr. Jennifer Switzer's bed where she rested. His mind reeled as he tried to put the pieces into place. |Tabitha _is_ alive|, he thought, as Arundel and Jennifer looked worriedly at him. |And somehow...she knows--| his thought broke off as he realized the implication of his thought. "How?" he asked out loud, eliciting confused looks from Switzer and Arundel. "How did she know I was a lieutenant?" He looked at both people, then quickly explained. "The first time distortion with Tabitha was onboard the shuttle to Olympic," said Adam. "But still, when she left that message for both my mother and me, I was halfway through with my studies at the Academy. Sure, she knew that by my graduation I'd be a ensign, but..." He let the thought hang. Dr. Switzer caught on. "How did she know you were a lieutenant?" "Exactly! Which means that either these time distortions allow the people who are displaced to be exceptionally aware of their new surroundings--like a holodeck--or wherever she is, she gets information, but can't send information." Adam slumped back, elated. Then he frowned. "One small problem." Dr. Switzer looked at Adam intently. "What's that?" Adam had a look of skepticism. "It's all conjecture...a wild theory. There's no real way to prove it." He sighed. Arundel had been silent all through the exchange. He looked at Adam and spoke, his low, musical tones calming and giving hope to Adam. "It is more than what you had before, Adam...and that is what you must remember. If it is the will of the universe, you will know." He clasped Adam's hand in his. "Be strong, my friend. Be of the Light." Adam understood the message, if not the spiritual overtones of what the Aurexian had said. He squeezed the young man's hand. "Thank you, Arundel," he said. He then looked at Dr. Switzer and gave her a wink. "Get some more sleep, Doctor," he said. "I'll release you in a few hours." Jennifer Switzer laughed. "Thank goodness! You know we doctors are the _worst_ patients!" Adam's eyes sparkled. "Exactly my reason for releasing you...." The two doctors laughed as Arundel moved back to his work at his nurse's station. ********************************** The memo from Lexia Tremaine was short and sweet. So was her announcement over her crew's commbadges. [ ] Adam sighed as he extracted several isolinear chips from his terminal and set them in their tray. "Ah, the joys of patient records," sighed Adam. He still had several hundred more to read before he was even ready to pass the work along to Counselor Lawrence, who would have to play catchup just as Adam did in knowing the medical and psychological aspects of all of the Olympic's crew. It was when he was absently staring at the chips that he remembered the minidisc he had been given at ALB. He had never accessed the rest of the information on it. After the staff meeting, he thought, then I'll see what the rest of it says. He got up and headed out the doors of Sickbay and to a turbolift. *********************************** The Ready Room was dark and appeared empty when Adam entered. |Guess I'm the first one,| Adam thought, his mouth almost ready to order the computer to raise the lights, when he saw the figure sitting in the chair, looking quietly out the viewports at the shining silver vessel that was the Nova. It was Paul. Paul sensed a presence, but relaxed when he identified the movements as being Adam's. He motioned to the Nova, hanging in the airless void beyond. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" he asked. "Yes," said Adam, "as beautiful as any of the universe's own wonders." Sitting in a chair next to Paul, both men watched... and waited.... Lt.(jg) Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Wed, 23 Mar 1994 02:28:03 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC SICKBAY--BATES/DIFALCO (SR.) NRPG--Just to tie up another end...here it goes.... **************************************** SD: 60323.0155 Dr. Barak V'ann saw Dr. Adam Crown leave Sickbay, and gave a self-satisfied nod. |Finally,| he thought. |He's going to get out of here and get some downtime...I hope....| It was minutes later that a yeoman entered with two people that V'ann recognized immediately. Setting his PADD on a nearby biobed, V'ann walked over to the newcomers in Sickbay. "Thank you, Yeoman," said V'ann, a smile crossing his face. "You've delivered my patients from Guardian, I see. Dismissed." As the yeoman exited, Dr. V'ann gestured to two nearby biobeds and helped Ensign Deborah Bates up on one, Sebastian DiFalco neatly hopping up on the other. "Let me get the lifesigns up on the board," said V'ann, fiddling with a medical tricorder. Finishing a complex [series of] key-presses, he noted that Deborah Bates was still looking around Sickbay in awe. "Amazing," she murmured. "Nothing like the Valley Forge's." V'ann chuckled softly, trying to be as gentle as possible. "It has been a while, hasn't it, Ensign Bates?" Deborah Bates looked at him, her eyes filling with tears as she began to sob uncontrollably. Sebastian DiFalco was right there for her, his arms wrapped around her as if to protect her from V'ann and Sickbay. "It's alright, Deborah," the older man said, looking at V'ann a little angrily. "I'm sure that was a slip on Dr. V'ann's part. Wasn't it?" he demanded, a steel-edged tone entering his voice. V'ann sobered immediately. "My deepest apologies, Ensign Bates, Mr. DiFalco--I apologize, Commander, is it? I meant no disrespect. It's just that...what you've experienced...." Deborah Bates's sobs subsided, her tear-stained face rising to look at V'ann's. She couldn't speak. She didn't know what to say. How could this doctor understand what had happened to her? One minute she was on the Valley Forge, battling the Borg at Wolf 359...then the explosion...then the understanding that she was dying... ...then dead. She couldn't remember if there had been anything between that. She thought there _had_ to be something, didn't there? Or was death really nothingness...no feeling, no emotion...nothing...? And then...she was alive...back in what had to be life--wasn't it? Or was this some sort of after-life? No, she knew she was alive...somehow her mind told her that those people in those strangely familiar uniforms, that oh-so-familiar emblem on their left breast that doubled as a link to their ship...it was real.... Deborah Bates looked at Sebastian DiFalco again, the older man stroking her hair as Dr. V'ann stood there, embarrassed but desperately wanting to help. |No,| she thought. |This is real. Sebastian is real. This ship and this doctor are real. I am alive...I am real.| |And Jack...| she thought, her mind turning to the man she loved like no other. |Jack is alive...and here.....| Giving one last, shuddering sigh of relief, Deborah Bates lay back and let Dr. V'ann begin his examination of her and Sebastian DiFalco. ************************************ NRPG--I meant to get this in earlier, then forgot, then remembered! If my head wasn't attached.... :) Anyhow, this leaves Deborah Bates and Sebastian DiFalco in Sickbay with Dr. V'ann and my other NPC creations. I chose to focus more on Deborah because of the connection to Jack. You'll also notice that I purposely left Sebastian alone because I was unsure of what plans Armin had for him (other than replacing Dardick in Holodeck 4...my old instructor! Whaddya gonna do with _him_, eh, Armin???) The same with the specific details of how Deborah Bates died...I'll leave that to Brian or someone else. Dr. Barak V'ann (NPC) Staff Physician, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu From: "Michael D. Miller" Subject: USS OLYMPIC: COS Quarters -> Ready Room Date: 24 Mar 1994 01:48:29 -0800 ************ Star Date: 60324.0230 Berak dashed out of the HoloDeck, still clad in his Highland attire, and once again, nearly causing more cases of whiplash, and more reports of temporal distortions, as he sprinted for his quarters. Once inside his quarters, Berak began peeling off the kilt and the other accoutrements of the Highland garb, and pulled on his, modified, Standard Uniform. Looking about his quarters, he gazed with dismay at the articles strewn about the room. |Not exactly Bristol Fashion,| he thought to himself, |but it does have a certain, `lived-in' look.| He chuckled to himself at the memory of his Governess scolding [him] for strewing his things around without picking them up. |Some things never change.| Berak sighed as he bent to picked some of the items up and mused why Star Fleet did not allow "batmen", or lower ratings charged with taking care of [an] Officer's needs. The chronometer on his desk chimed. Berak dropped the pile of clothing and other items he had in his arms right he stood, which just happened to be the middle of the room. Grabbing his PADD, he strode out of the room to the TurboLift, the mess in his quarters completely swept under a mental rug. He had a Staff Meeting to attend, and that was all he thought about now. Berak stepped off the TurboLift and onto the Bridge. He briefly stopped to confer with the Tactical Officer on duty as to his stations status, and receive an unofficial status of the activity on the Bridge. Armed with this information, Berak made his way to the Captain's Ready Room. Some of the Staff had already arrived. Berak slid into his usual seat, smiled and said, "Whew! What a day, eh, laddies?" Berak noted the fever bright light in Lt. Paul's eyes. "The Hunter's Look" they called it in the New Aberdeen Cluster. Berak hoped that there was a firm hand on the Nova to control and shape that energy. Without control, that energy could be reckless and dangerous to those around it. However, Berak could empathize with Lt. Paul. He remembered himself, many years ago, [having] that same look after an engagement. Berak also noted the somewhat haggard appearance of Lt. Dwight, and again, his heart went out to the lad. It is a terrible responsibility to have the fate of hundreds of lives in your hands. One mistake, and people die. The ambush of the HMS Rob Roy rose unbidden from the depths of his memory. Unable to invoke the normal banter commonly found in a crew used to conflict, Berak smiled inwardly and allowed his shipmates their private space to come to terms with what they had experienced. Personally, Berak was looking forward to standing down and hitting Six-Forward, the Ship's Lounge, there to swill the abomination it called whisky, and to perhaps to enjoin his shipmates in songs that dated back to days when men of adventure sailed the seas of Earth. Another memory, rose unbidden from his memory, a snippet of a song from that same era, "Barrett's Privateer's." Oh, the year was sixteen seventy-eight Oh, I wish I were in Cheroburg (sp) now A Letter of Marque came from the King To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen! God Damn them all! We were told we sail the seas for Spanish Gold We'd fire no guns, shed no tears Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier The last of Barrett's Privateer's |Aye, laddies,| Berak mused to himself. |Tipping yur hat at the Grim Reaper for the first time should make ye a wee bit scared. Ye be a damn fool if it didn't. You'll build a callous soon enough. But hopefully not too much of a callous that ye squander the lives of yer shipmates.| Berak's eyes fell once again upon Lt. Paul. |You worry me, laddie,| Berak mused to himself. |I sure hope Alex can keep ye reined in.| Berak had no doubts that Alex was going to be, at least, the acting Captain of the Nova, with the permanent billet of its First Officer. Berak waited with the patience of one who had spent a long time in the military for the rest of the Staff to filter in and for the meeting to begin. ************ NRPG: Berak's concerns about Lt. Paul are in keeping with his character. Berak is old enough to be the father of most of the new officers on the Olympic. He is a battle hardened veteran who has seen too many young men die. As tempting as doing the time travel scenarios are, especially for me, doing a "Robin Hood" type scenario, I must delay it for a time. I have some pressing deadlines, (we are talking money here folks,) for some illustrations for a book my [wife?] and I are doing. I am going to have to be somewhat in "shadows" for a time. I will be checking mail daily, as well as the newsgroup. Probably the best bet is "stick" Berak with the command of the Olympic, despite his vehement and outraged protests, while the rest of the crew has fun traveling through time. Respectfully submitted, Mike Miller aka Lt. Berak L'Gryphon COS/TAC, USS Olympic etlmksr@etlxd30.ericsson.se (Mark Slater) Subject: USS OLYMPIC Ready Room Date: Thu, 24 Mar 1994 13:56:10 GMT Dwight sat in his quarters, reviewing the Science log as he finished a quick bite before Lexia's briefing in her Ready Room. The log showed that over 60 cases of temporal distortions had been recorded, 47 having been witnessed by various members of the crew, each reporting encounters with either members of their family or friends. One thing Dwight noted [was] that none of the encounters had been with people that had died, and the more recent encounters had all tried to communicate some kind of warning. Dwight was now typing out a memo to all research teams involved in this phonomania >>>>>>>>>>Temporal Research Teams >>>>>>>>>> SD 60324:0837 After reviewing the Temporal Distortion log, the following tasks need to be undertaken: 1. Correlate all reports of encounters with people with a view to see if the messages received link together to make one coherent message. 2. Contact as many of the people who have appeared during these temporal distortions. Ascertain whether they had any experience of the temporal distortion in which [their] presence appeared on the Olympic. Lt. R Dwight <<<<<<<< Dwight turned his terminal off and headed off to the Bridge. There he found Lt. Zoopah, the officer that had relieved Dwight when his command shift had ended. Dwight nodded a greeting as he headed towards the Ready Room. As he approached, the door opened and Dwight entered. Respectfully Submitted Lieutenant R. Dwight (CSciO) USS Olympic NCC-[0100] etlmksr@etlxd20.ericssons.se Date: Thu, 24 Mar 1994 17:45:25 +0500 (EST) From: Lord Admiral Nelson Subject: USS OLYMPIC Ready Room Stardate: 60324.1700 Esn. LuCypher sighed and tapped off the console on his desk. After his remarkable meeting with Capt. Tremaine, he had returned to reviewing the available records on the Olympic's equipment and personnel. The records were sufficient to give him a general background of the ship's operating structure and abilities, but it was clear that there was more to the current mission than what he was able to access in the data banks. He hoped that the upcoming meeting in the ready room would offer more enlightenment. "Computer, time to staff meeting, please," he said. "Thank you," As usual, Stae-faan chuckled at the computer's polite response. It still surprised him that this artificial construct which was so "transparent" to his 'maerel', could so often give one the impression of possessing a personality. "Time to go," he said to himself. He wanted to be a few minutes early. That would allow an opportunity for a few, informal introductions to be made before the meeting began. Also, he might be able to glean a few clues regarding the topics that would be brought up for discussion. Esn. LuCypher left his quarters for the turbo-lift, exchanging a pleasant greeting with two communications technicians along the way. As he stepped into the lift, he again reflected on the fact that he was light years from earth--that he was out among the stars. For a moment, he thought to [attempt to] reach out with his song and touch that vastness beyond the ship's walls, but he withheld. Captain Tremaine had asked him to exercise control over his 'maerel' until she could complete her plans for protecting the remaining Betazoids from its influence. Restraint was not an easy thing for him in this matter, though he would manage. If anything, he needed the practice. It was, in a sense, his lack of restraint which had led to his being discovered by a fellow cadet in his junior year. Not that he could repeat that error now. Not in space. That aspect of his song had been abandoned the moment he left earth. Odd, he mused. Out here, his title of Lu-Cypher had lost whatever small meaning it still held, which, he supposed, was just as well. He would miss that part of himself while he was in space, but in that loss there was also promise. Here was an opportunity to learn the song of the stars themselves. Stae-faan abandoned his train of thought as the turbo-lift doors slid open. Silently, he made his way to the ready room, doing his best to minimize the aura of his song. Several people were already present. "Esn. LuCypher, reporting as requested," he said calmly, his pale-violet eyes sparkling.... Respectfully submitted, Esn. Stae-faan LuCypher, Kurt Nelson jknelson@telerama.lm.com From: gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu (Gwendolyn M Brophy) Subject: USS OLYMPIC READY ROOM Date: Wed, 23 Mar 1994 19:48:29 -0500 (EST) NRPG: I know that the meeting hasn't started, but.....I couldn't help it. She was walking along the main path in County Carrick. She was smelling the breeze, and drinking in the deep green of the hills. N'Jira was home. As she stood, just watching and reflecting, a woman, an Earth woman, appeared. She looked enough like N'Jira to be her twin. N'Jira knew, in the way that you always do in dreams, that this was Diana Harmitage. The one that Admiral Judi had mentioned. "Lt. Klaen? N'Jira?" She questioned urgently. N'Jira turned, looking blankly at the woman who kept questioning her. N'Jira had no idea what the appropriate response was. She looked at Diana, searching for some clue, and wondering how Diana got to Ireland so quickly, and how she knew N'Jira. Suddenly, she knew. Bolting up into a sitting position, she splashed cold water onto the floor of her bathroom. Reaching over, she tapped the communicator that was on her uniform. "Klaen here." To herself: |Please don't tell me I am late. Please don't tell me I'm late. Please...| Lexia asked, sounding concerned. |Another temporal disturbance,| Klaen thought, wildly, jumping out of the tub, thankful that at least _this_ time her hair had dried and she wouldn't meet a commanding officer looking like she'd come in out of the rain. |I could say that I thought I was back home and the time just flew.... | "No, Captain. There is no problem, just a slight miscalculation on my part. I'll be there in two minutes. Klaen out." She threw herself into her uniform, hoping that, despite the fact that this had happened _twice_ to her, that it wouldn't become a habit. Some commanding officers would not be as forgiving as DiFalco was. Damn it, why didn't she just lie and say that there was a disturbance? |Because the woman is Betazoid, and no idiot, Klaen.| Grabbing her hair comb, she ran out the door and while she [raced] down the hall, reflecting on just how often she seemed to be doing this, she twisted her mass of hair up and into a tight chignon. It would suffice. She made her appearance, aware that all eyes watched her sheepishly take her seat. She managed one "I apologize," before she flushed with embarrassment. Not one who blushed often, this made the whole situation worse. Fortunately, Lexia didn't dwell on it and began talking. Sheepishly submitted, Lt. N'Jira Klaen gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu NRPG: Well, no one woke her up!! C'est impossible, non? (she breaks into song:) How do you solve a problem like N'Jira? How do you keep a wave upon the sand? Date: Thu, 24 Mar 1994 16:20:32 -0800 (PST) From: Judith B Marko Subject: USS OLYMPIC Ready Room There were an unusual number of officers squeezed into the Ready Room of the USS Olympic. They had a greater number of bridge officers on board than usual because of the temporary assignment of some of them who were awaiting transfer to the USS Nova. Captain Lexia Tremaine actually liked having so many competent senior officers on board her ship, and she was saddened that it was about to end. She was about to start speaking when Lt. N'Jira Klaen burst in, looking rushed and scattered as usual. |Must be her slightly-off-kilter time sense again,| thought Lexia with a smile. N'Jira had probably been late to her own birth. Lexia noticed Ensign Stae-faan LuCypher focusing his concentration to help shield Lt. Dwight from his 'maerel' for the duration of this meeting. *Thank you* she thought to him, *I shall help and work on the solution after this meeting is done.* A moment later, Commodore Jack Sullivan entered in response to her message reminding him of the meeting. He looked a little flustered and distracted, unusual for Jack, but Lexia figured she knew why. Events had conspired to change a lot of things of late, and more changes were coming. Lexia stood to speak and the room grew quiet. "Most of you know by now that before I joined Starfleet, I was an entertainer. I noticed that some of you were a little disturbed by my performance in Space Place, and that may help to explain it a little, but it is not why I brought it up. As a former actress and singer, I have an abiding interest in old Terran theater, films, and television. There was a TV show several centuries ago called "Mission Impossible." [In this show,] a group of agents took on a seemingly impossible task and completed it successfully. That it exactly what you have all helped to achieve right here. And that you achieved it with no loss of life to any of this crew speaks to the talent and courage each of you has shown. Now it is my pleasure, with the approval of Starfleet Command, to show appreciation for what you have all done here. What lies ahead may be even more awe-inspiring than what we've just come through, but Part One is over and each of you should be proud for the part you played." Lexia reached into a case she had carried with her into the Ready Room and took out a number of small boxes and an envelope. Each little box was marked with the name of an officer now present. As she made each announcement, Lexi handed the appropriate box to its owner. "Ensigns Chizh, LuCypher, and Lawrence, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Lieutenant j.g. --the first, I'm sure of many such promotions. Lt. Chizh, you will take over as Chief of Tactical/Security at the end of this meeting. Lt. LuCypher, you will be our new Chief of Operations, and Lt. Lawrence, you have already begun your duties as Ship's Counselor. That was my old job, and please call upon me at any time I can be of help to you." It was clear that Berak L'Gryphon looked a little surprised at Lexia's announcement that Chizh was to head TAC/SEC. |Am I being transferred to the Nova as well?| Lexia could hear this thought going through his mind. Well, he'd just have to wait a little while longer to find out what was up.. "Lieutenant Crown, you are now a full Lieutenant. I cannot thank you enough for the job you have done with no time to prepare. There should be no doubt in anyone's mind as to why you were ordered to this post. "Lt. jg Jina Carson, I know you can't be at this meeting while you are recovering, and I know you don't want this, but nevertheless the rank of Lieutenant is also yours. Lt. jg Bleyn, without your efforts this mission would have stood no chance of success. You, too, are promoted to full Lieutenant, effective immediately. "Lt. jg Dwight, for the expertise and dedication you showed in taking command of the Olympic while both away teams were off ship, I now promote you officially to the rank of Lt. Commander, with all the rights and responsibilities thereof. Robert, how can I thank you for the way you took care of our ship and our family? "Lieutenant Berak L'Gryphon. I couldn't help but note the look of surprise on your face when I told Sasha he would be our new Chief of TAC/SEC. This should clear things up, I hope. We all know that Alex is being transferred to the Nova. I have received confirmation from Admiral Judi Marko to my request that you be given the post of First Officer on the Olympic and the rank of Commander which goes with it. There was a burst of spontaneous applause as Lexi made that last announcement. The usually taciturn Berak looked as taken aback by this news as he would allow himself to show. "I know there appear to be several who have been overlooked, but I think you will soon see the reason behind it. The officers who have not as yet received promotions are those transferring to the Nova, and I feel it is only right that the Captain of the Nova should have the privilege and pleasure of bestowing those promotions. And I know you're are all wondering just who your new captain on that ship will be. You are about to be enlightened." Lexia now picked up the envelope on the table in front of her, opened it, and began to read. To: Captain Lexia Tremaine, USS OLYMPIC From: Fleet Admiral Jack Gerber Senior Admiral Judi Marko Senior Admiral Linda Pfeiffer Stardate: 60324:1652 Re: USS NOVA - Command Commander Calvin Alexander DiFalco: Upon the recommendation of Captain Lexia Tremaine, and with the approval and agreement of Commodore Jack Sullivan, for the courage and dedication you have shown throughout your career with Starfleet and for the concern you have shown for those under your command, you are hereby officially promoted to the rank of captain and you will take command of the USS Nova at the earliest possible opportunity. Commodore Sullivan, as Fleet Commander, will transfer command to you. All of Starfleet Command congratulates you and wishes you well as you take on the responsibilities of your own vessel. Smooth sailing to Starfleet's newest Captain. Lexia's eyes shown with laughter, delight, and compassion all mixed as she read this announcement. Alex merely sighed and gave her a look that said clearly he would be speaking to her later about this matter. Paul, N'Jira, and Goog all were grinning with unabashed delight as they heard just who their new captain would be. "It's my understanding, Alex, that two additional officers are being ordered to the Nova One is an Ensign Daniel Laramie, though I'm not sure what his specialty is. The other is a Flight Control Officer, but I don't know which one has been assigned. "We will soon begin our travels back in time to help repair the Guardian. The serious work begins soon again. But for now, you are all officially off duty. Visit the holodecks, visit 6-Forward, have yourselves some hard-earned R&R. I'll be going to the Contemplation Pool to prepare what will be needed for the Betazoids on board to help them attune to Stae-faan's music. Additionally, I am recommending to the Admiralty citations for Alex, Jina, Berak, and Robert, as well as an official commendation added to the permanent record of every officer here. Meeting's over. Enjoy yourselves." Captain Lexia Tremaine USS OLYMPIC NRPG: Sure hope I didn't forget anyone. If I did, someone please let me know and I'll fix it. I'd like those of you who would like to time travel on the next part of the mission to let Brian and me know. We are planning several expeditions in groups of about three or four people. One will include Berak, Alex, and Adam. This will not be the first one, however. If any of the rest of you want to travel together, let us know that, too, and we'll be able to decide who goes when and where. Bear in mind that the players will know where and when they are going, but the characters won't. They will find themselves somewhere and somewhen and have to deal with it and correct what they find wrong. When they succeed, the Guardian will bring them back to the present. We can do as many of these trips as you like, but they should remain fairly short in duration. The final one will be a replay of the battle with the Borg at Wolf 359 where Jack Sullivan was injured and Debbie Bates was killed. When that is done, this particular mission will be over. Matt: Lexia and Jack will want to talk with Adam about the ongoing mystery of Tabitha and what she was up to. Those going to the Nova can begin transferring over when Captain DiFalco gives the word. Any questions? Date: Thu, 24 Mar 1994 22:23:02 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: POST-STAFF MEETING SD: 60324.2139 With the staff meeting over, there were congratulations and handshakes all around for the officers who had been promoted. Adam grinned broadly as he pinned his pip to his collar and sighed contentedly. Although he was thrilled to receive his promotion, he didn't really didn't know whether he should say something to Lexia or not. |It would be wrong if you didn't| a small voice nagged in his mind. |Even if you think it was all in a day's work--which it wasn't Adam, you know that--, obviously she sees it as an amazing achievement. Why not say something?| But he didn't have to say anything. Lexia walked over to him and touched the pip on his collar, a smile crossing her beautiful face. "It looks wonderful, Adam," Lexia said, giving his hand a small squeeze. "I'm very pleased with your performance...you'll never know how much." Adam blushed. "You give me entirely too much credit, Lexia...just all in a CMO's life." He ended his sentence with a rakish grin, getting a hearty laugh from Lexia in return. Adam then saw Alex in the corner of the room. [The man] was surrounded by his future crew members--Paul, Klaen, McGoogan. The look on his face, however, gave Adam some worry. He excused himself from Lexia and moved over to Alex. "Congratulations, Captain DiFalco," said Adam, shaking Alex's hand. "I couldn't think of a better man to head up the Nova...best of luck to you, old friend." He thought that sounded strange--he'd only known Alex for a short while, but in that time he felt as though he had known DiFalco forever. |Guess that's what Tabitha called the "Family Factor,"| thought Adam, seeing the image of his sister in his mind's eye. |She said once you know them, you'll never forget them. She was right.| His thoughts turned inward momentarily as he realized why he had felt so happy and sad at the same time. He had just been promoted to the same rank as his sister...before she had disappeared. He heard Dr. Switzer's voice in his head. ..."She was in Command Red, wearing Lt. Commander's pips...." "Adam?" spoke Alex, tapping the CMO on the shoulder. Adam snapped back from his thoughts. Alex was looking at him with concern. "You OK?" Adam smiled. "Sorry, Alex...I didn't hear what you said." Alex grinned. "I guess not. I said 'thanks...and congratulations to you, _Lieutenant_ Crown." He motioned to the door leading out of the Ready Room. "Going to Six-Forward, I hope? You know what you said, don't you?" Adam looked confused. "What did I say?" Alex's eyes sparkled. "I believe you said 'I owe you many drinks,' after you chewed me out without seeing Berak's memo on your terminal--remember?" Adam _did_ remember, and blushed. "Damn, DiFalco...I thought I'd just slip that by you--I didn't think you'd remember!" Alex laughed. "Ah--but a Captain _always_ remembers!" The two officers shared a laugh, catching the attention of the others in the room. "Something funny there," whispered Lawrence to LuCypher. "Wonder what that is?" LuCypher shrugged. He could sense the happiness between Crown and DiFalco, but couldn't probe without [releasing restraint] of his 'maerel' and possibly transfixing the Bajorans in the room. {Editor's Note: Adam received many a ribbing for the above faux-pas. He of course, meant to say "Betazoids" and not "Bajorans". Matt's explanation for the gaffe appears later on.} With that, many of the officers filed out of the Ready Room, and off to their recreation of choice...for many, Six-Forward. Lexia caught sight of Adam leaving the Ready Room, and nudged Jack, whispering to him. "Should we talk to Adam now?" she asked, looking to Jack. Sullivan shrugged. "I don't know, Lexia." Lexia was taken aback momentarily. Whatever was bothering Jack, it was hardly minor. But what was it? she wondered...what was wrong with Jack? ************ NRPG: I'm honored by the promotion...if not humbled at the same time. As the rule book said (the one that started me playing here at SF), good roleplaying *does* have its rewards. Thank you! Judi/Brian--I added the details at the end so that if either of you wants to set up the meeting between Adam, Lexia and Jack, feel free to. Of course, that little ending of mine added some questions for Lexia on what's bugging Jack. Should be interesting.... ;) It may be a good idea for me (Matt, that is) to send all Admiral types (you two, Linda, Jack...anyone else?) what this whole Tabitha thing is leading up to.... Or maybe not and just let me drop some more pieces of the puzzle. I'm still working out some of the details, though.... Armin--What Adam said goes for me as well. Good work, my friend! The Nova is in good hands with Alex in command. (and I _am_ still thinking about what you proposed to me...promise!) Everyone else: Congratulations on the promotions! It says a lot on your skills as roleplayers and as officers! Here's to more in the future! Lt. Adam Crown (aahh, that's nice!) :) Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu From: etlmksr@etlxd20.ericsson.se (Mark Slater) Date: Fri, 25 Mar 94 14:42:27 GMT Subject: USS OLYMPIC Ready Room Dwight looked at the box in his hand that Lexia had given him as she announced his new promotion to Lt. Commander--it still hadn't sunk in yet. He looked up as someone approached, it was Lexia. She looked at his bemused [expression] and smiled. Even without touching his mind, she could see that his new promotion was still [quite a surprise.] "Open the box then Robert, they wont bite" smiled Lexia. Dwight opened the box and took out the new pips. He stared at them and then a broad smile grew across his face. "Here, let me" said Lexia, taking the pips and placing them on his collar, "And thank you again for looking after our ship and our family." At this point, Cmdr. Berak came over. He then gave Dwight an enormous slap on the back. "Yes, laddie. Thank you for not destroying our home." He then winked at Lexia. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I must now have a chat with Jack. There's a lot still left to sort out. Have a good time tonight. We still have a lot of work ahead of us." Then Lexia strolled off in the direction of the Commodore. "Well, laddie. Shall we celebrate our new promotions in a quick trip to [6-forward, and then perhaps on to 'Space Place'?]" "Yes, why not" respond Dwight, "I haven't had a chance to visit [Space Place] yet" 'You haven't?!" exclaimed Berak, a look of utter astonishment on his face, "What a' ye been up to?" Dwight thought about explaining all about the Holodeck 4 sabotage episode and then his immediate posting to the Olympic, but decided now wasn't the time for lengthy descriptions, so he replied, "I just haven't had the time, till now." "Well, well. There's a gorgeous young gal I've just got to introduce you to. You and Bea will get on like a house on fire. [I have a few things to tend to first, but I'll see you and the others in 6-forward to start our mutual celebrations.]" [Dwight nodded, and started on his way...] Submitted by a rather stunned Lt. Commander Dwight. USS Olympic NCC-[0100] {Editor's Note: Some minor changes to the dialogue between Berak and Dwight were made to maintain consistency between this post and the one made by Mike Miller coming up a bit later.} NRPG Judi/Brian Yes, I would like to be included in the Time Travel. I think it's probably about time Dwight had an Away Duty. This will be my last submission for a few days as I fly out to Sweden this weekend. Mike, I thought it about time that Dwight and Berak got to know each other and also [about] time Dwight visited Space Place. And what better guide that Berak!?! As I'm off- line for a while, I thought I would let you write out [the] Space Place encounter - know that Connie Gerber may get involved. Just leave Dwight sober enough for the up and coming missions (He like whisky by the way). When I return some time next week, I will have a new email address so I'll let you know it then. Also, I don't know if I'll have access to the newsboard, but again I'll let you know then. Alex/Armin, Congrats on your new command. The couldn't have picked a better man for the job!! Well that's it for now. See you all in a few days. Mark PS - J.Finocciaro (Sorry, I don't have your first name), my posts to you keep bouncing. Have I the correct email address? i.e. finoc_j@jhunix.hcf.jhu.edu Date: Sat, 26 Mar 1994 02:04:28 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: SIX-FORWARD SD: 60326.0130 The doors of the Olympic's Ready Room slid open as Adam and Alex left, laughing and joking, followed by N'Jira, Paul, and others. But even with Lexia's order for the crew to take it easy and relax before they would have to embark on the time travel missions through the Guardian, Adam was still thinking. Actually, it wasn't his fault, he thought as he glanced at the viewscreen, the Planet of the Guardian turning lazily below. It was that he hated questions left unanswered...and there _were_ questions left unanswered. How much damage had the Romulans done to the time stream? Who would be assigned to the travel teams? And of the archaeologists? Adam thought...what had happened to them? He was ready to turn back to ask Lexia, but Alex stopped him. "I know that look, Adam," said the new captain of the Nova, holding Adam's arm and staring at him. "It means you've got something on your mind...something about the mission. Don't," he said sternly, pointing a finger as Adam began to speak. "Don't say anything about the mission, Lieutenant...you've been ordered by Captain Tremaine to relax and have fun, and fun is what you're going to have." He maneuvered Adam to the turbolift and motioned Adam to step in. "Alex--I just thought that--" the CMO began, but another look of exasperation by DiFalco shut him up. "Fine...fine," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess we should get started on those drinks of yours, shouldn't we?" DiFalco laughed. So did Adam. ************ Adam and Alex arrived, but with a little finesse on Alex's part, the two officers got a table almost in the center of the room. "When I said I wanted a table, I meant one at the side," muttered Alex as Adam sat down at the recently vacated table. Adam smiled. "The better for people to congratulate you," he chuckled, as sure enough, people drifted over to congratulate Alex on his new command. "Enough, enough," stage-whispered Alex as the last wave of people left the two men at the table alone again. "News travels fast, doesn't it?" Adam agreed, sipping his favorite drink, a Long Island Iced Tea. "My mother's favorite," he said, as Alex eyed the odd-looking concoction. "It's not that bad, really." Alex rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say," he joked good-naturedly, sipping his own drink. Then his eyes took on a more sobering cast. Adam knew what that meant. "Hey," he said, tapping DiFalco on the arm. "Same rules apply--no thinking about the mission...or your command." Alex sighed. "It shows that much?" "You put on a good front up there, but I could tell," said Adam, smiling. "That's why I'm the CMO, remember?" DiFalco smiled back. "You and Lawrence are going to be a good team, I think." A mischievous grin crossed his face. "Wouldn't want to transfer, would you?" Adam grinned. "I get the feeling that you and Lexia would have to fight over that...I'd stay out of it, believe me!" Both men laughed, and the nagging details in the back of their minds were pushed farther back...if only for the moment.... ************ NRPG-- I'm relaxing, I'm relaxing! But if you know Adam, he'll want to get some rest, then get back on track on finding out the fates of the archaeologists (that could be a small little sideline, as I basically could do it in one quick post--what do you think?) Also, for those of you who have read Kurt's second post on behalf of Jeff regarding Lawrence, let me just say that Kurt did a spectacular job in "performing" Dr. Mohning...I've never laughed so hard in my life when I was reading it. He was right on the money! --Matt Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu From: berak@crl.com (Michael D. Miller) Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Ready Room -> 6-Forward Date: 26 Mar 1994 00:26:45 -0800 ******************************************************************** StarDate: 60325.2220 As the meeting in the Ready Room broke up and the senior Staff of the Olympic and Nova clumped together in small groups exchanging congratulations, Berak moved through the crowd. This was no easy feat since everyone wanted to congratulate Berak on his promotion. Still somewhat dazed by it, Berak smiled and said a few self-deprecating words in return. He still made for his main objectives, which were Captains Tremaine and DiFalco. Berak finally managed to get a clear intercept vector on Alex and Lexi. Alex was already headed out the door with Dr. Crown in tow when Berak hurriedly asked, "Join me for a drink in 6-Forward?" Alex grinned, and said, "Sure, the Good Doctor is buying. Part of my `treatment', don't you know." Alex gave a feigned cough and a broad wink at Berak, while Dr. Crown rolled his eyes heavenward. Berak grinned and chuckled in response to the very bad joke, and headed for Lexia Tremaine. "Excuse me, Lexi," Berak said, "can I have a moment with you?" Lexia raised an eyebrow and nodded, wondering what was on her new First Officer's mind. "This won't take long, nor do I want to detain you. We can discuss this on the way to your quarters." An even more perplexed Lexi, nodded and led the way out of the Ready Room. Lexia could tell that he was agitated about something, but other than that she could not tell. Trying to read Berak at this moment was like trying to read a granite wall. You see patterns but you are not sure they are really there. Once in the TurboLift, Berak opened up. "I dinna know why you chose me as your new XO. There are more senior officers that are probably better qualified to do the job than I am, but you chose me, and that is the way it is. The orders are cut and that is the way it is." "Okay, Berak," Lexia asked, "if it isn't the promotion, what is it?" "Ye may think this is silly, Lexi, but I miss my beard." Berak admitted sheepishly. "I had to shave it off when I went into the Academy, and it was like losing an old friend. It had been with me since I graduated from the Academy at New Aberdeen. I still find it hard to recognize myself in the mirror." Winding down finally, Berak straighten, and said, "Begging the Captain's pardon, but I would like permission to grow my beard back." Lexi tried hard to contain her laughter. Was that _all_ that was bothering him? A man who probably would be willing to take on the entire Romulan Fleet armed with nothing more than a pocket knife, asking permission to grow a silly beard? This was almost too much! Seeing Berak's expectant look as the TurboLift ground to a halt and discharged them on the Officer Quarters Deck, Lexi tried to muster what was left of her shattered composure. Looking sternly at Berak, and watching him almost melt with disappointment, she said, "I suppose that would be all right." "Wha?", a flustered Berak blurted out. "It's okay? Thank you, Ma'am! Lexi! Oh, hell!" Berak's face broke into a boyish grin as he stammered his thanks. "However, _Commander_," a smiling Lexi said, emphasizing Berak's new rank, "the next time I see you, you had better be wearing Command Red! Is that clear? Good! Dismissed!" A grinning Berak snapped her a British style salute out of habit, winked and was gone. Lexia entered her quarters shaking her head. "Maybe there is more there than just spit and polish...", a weary Lexia thought to herself. The Contemplation Pool was going to be wonderful. ------------------------------------- Berak had a hard time containing himself as he made his way to his quarters. He wanted to do hand springs, but didn't want to listen to Engineering, or Lexi, about the damage it would cause. Once again, Berak mentally groused about the lower gravity on Star Fleet ships. Once back in his quarters, he tapped his comm badge and said, "Ensign, McGoogan, would you join me in my quarters, please." McGooghan appeared shortly at Berak's quarters. "Mr. McGooghan, I am given to understand that you [are] something of a wizard at reprogramming replicators." At McGooghan's protest of innocence, Berak said, "No, no, laddie, I am not going to put you on report for it." Shifting to a conspiratorial tone, he said, "In fact, I have a wee job for ye." ------------------------------------- A little while later, Berak made an appearance at the Olympic's Lounge, 6-Forward. Scanning the crowd, Berak spotted Alex and Dr. Crown seated at a table. Pulling up a chair, Berak joined them. Alex raised an eyebrow at the parcel wrapped in tartan cloth that Berak deposited on the table. Unable to contain his curiosity, Alex asked, "What's with the bundle, Berak?" With an unexpected twinkle in his eye, Berak said, "Wait and see, laddie." Berak flagged a rating who was doing duty as a server in 6-forward and requested three glasses. When the glasses arrived, Berak unwrapped the non-descript amber bottle, and poured an inch of golden amber liquor into all three tumblers. Picking his tumbler up, Berak said, "Here's to Star Fleet's newest Captain, and the second finest ship in the Fleet, the Nova!" With a wink at Alex, he brought his glass and took a healthy swallow. He watched with glee as he saw the faces of the two officers change as they followed suit. Alex's look of surprise turned to amused pleasure as he let the smooth liquid fire slide past his palate. Dr. Crown's expression was a bit more shocked and looked momentarily like he was going to choke. He managed to swallow, but it was a moment before his breathing returned to normal. Alex grinned, "How much of this did you smuggle on board, you old pirate?" Berak feigned shock and horror, "Me? Smuggle? Never!" With a wink, "I found someone to fix it up for me right here on the ship." Alex looked at his glass and said, "If this is hooch, it is the smoothest hooch I have ever heard of, or tasted." "No, lad, it's not hooch, and there is not a still, that I know of, on board the Olympic. However, I did find someone who is a bit of a misguided genius at reprogramming replicators." "He can replicate scotch?" "Not just scotch, but 30 year old scotch. As well as, rum, vodka, gin, the whole works. He seems inordinately fond of the swill the Irish drink. In fact, I have a copy of the programming for ye." Berak tossed a program module onto the table. "I think ye will find this amusing." "Who is this misguided genius?" Alex asked. "Well, laddie, that I ken nae tell ye." Berak said as he refreshed their glasses. "I promised him that he would remain anonymous, at least for now. I dinna think he will remain anonymous for very long." The mischievous twinkle was back in Berak's eye. "So drink up, laddies, the battle has been won, but the war remains to be fought." Berak's reference to the time travel missions ahead, caused to all three to stare at the planet passing below them and contemplate their future. ************ NRPG: Okay, so Berak is not quite as much of a stiff neck that everyone has thought he was. I am still having mail bounce on a few folks here. I will be posting a NRPG message to those, besides Brian, who are bouncing on me so I can clear up the address conflicts. Once I have that squared away, I will be e-mailing the crew listing. (Armin, if you would be so kind to send it one last time, I will maintain it from there. Thanks!) Mischievously submitted, Mike Miller aka CMDR Berak L'Gryphon First Officer, USS Olympic Date: Mon, 28 Mar 94 2:05:36 MET DST From: Armin Lenz Subject: USS OLYMPIC Ready Room SCENE: USS OLYMPIC - Ready Room SD 60327.1541 DiFalco was both amazed and annoyed by the news Lexia Tremaine announced. Sure, on one hand he felt flattered to be moved even further up the ladder, getting his own command, and he was sure the new FO on the Olympic would be a better choice in caring for his crew than he was. |Jina|, he thought, |it isn't right to make me Captain when she's still suffering from the things I did to her!| He threw a look at Lexia, somewhat sad that he could not show the pride he drew from the fact it was her who recommended him for the job, but his guilt was a burden he could not easily throw off. He needed to talk to her. Soon. His depressive thoughts gave way a little later, when he enjoyed the gleeful faces around him, new pips [shining] on their collars. It was hard to resist their good vibrations, and the pressure on his soul was lessened significantly. He was even able to joke with Dr. Crown. He tried to shake all the newly promoted officers hands and express the confidence he had in their abilities and future careers. thoughtfully submitted Captain Calvin DiFalco aboard USS OLYMPIC s_lenz@ira.uka.de NRPG - Folks, I'll have to do a lot of cleanup work and will prolly not be able to post tomorrow, but by Tuesday I hope I can get things on the Nova to a good start as well as tying up the loose ends I leave on the Olympic to a fair amount. Paul, N'Jira, Goog, orders to follow soon ! Lexi, may I join you in the pool later? We need to talk. Adam, regarding the thingie pending, I'll do my best to get Jack working, but he was cut off the same time I took my real time leave here, so please be patient! If there is a little help I can give you with the Tabitha thingie, let me know and I'll throw in a hint or something like that. Not necessarily from DiFalco, though :) Adam, how about mentioning the senior DiFalco to Calvin, mhhh? He doesn't know about that yet. And we need to talk [about] the Jina problem [he's carrying] around, too. Counselor included. Date: Mon, 28 Mar 1994 19:54:51 -0800 (PST) From: Judith B Marko Subject: USS OLYMPIC [Ready Room -->]Contemplation Pool [part 1] {Editor's note: This post was originally a single post by Judi Marko. The first part (which follows below) was a backpost of Lexia's perspective of the end of the Staff Meeting. The second part describes her work in her Contemplation Pool to devise a means to solve the problem regarding Betazoids and Stae-faan's maerel. Do to the significant amount of material that was written in the space between these two events, this post has been broken into two separate parts so as be more consistent with the flow of the story.} Captain Lexia Tremaine looked around the Ready Room as the officers congratulated each other on their promotions and threw off the tensions of a difficult job completed She spoke with each of them briefly....there would be time for one-on-one talks with them later. Now, most of them were making plans to relax and play as she had suggested She wished very much that she could join them, but the work she had to do could not wait. It wasn't fair to Stae-faan to ask him to maintain that control while the rest of the crew [was] at ease. Lexi sincerely hoped that the Nova crew understood that they had not been passed over on the promotion list. She had given command of the Nova to Alex, and he did not look overjoyed at the prospect. She could at least give him the pleasure of rewarding the staff that would now be his. She stopped briefly at his side. "I know it's a bit of a shock, Alex, but you're the right one for the job. We'll talk later. I'll be in the Contemplation Pool working on a way to let the other Betazoids on board benefit from Stae-faan's maerel. You're welcome to join me there later, or we can meet in your quarters or mine if you want to discuss it." "You know I'll want to talk, Lexi. I'll be able to sense when you're free, won't I?" "Yes, Alex. You'll know. For now, go relax with the others." She next approached Robert Dwight. What an invaluable asset he was to this ship. She spoke to him quietly enough that only he could hear. "Congratulations, Robert. I don't know what I'd do without you." "Thank you, Lexi. It's a privilege to serve on this ship and under your command." "Robert, my father has told me of your conversation. I think that I can help you develop the Betazed part of yourself, and I think that LuCypher's music will also help. I'll deem it an honor to work with you if you'd like." He just looked at her and nodded his thanks. She seemed not to forget anything where her crew was concerned, and he knew he could bring this up anytime he was ready and she'd be there to help. Sadly, it was time for her to leave. |The next party,| she thought, |they won't have without me.| She noticed Counselor Lawrence about to leave and knew he was going back to work with Jina. "Thomas," she called to him, "let's ride down together. There are a couple of things I'd like to share with you." He waited for her to join him in the turbolift. "I don't have time to meet in your office right now, but I think I can give you a few insights that may help you in treating Jina. Things that I've sensed you've picked up on, but that are not in the records. All right?" "Were you a Counselor, Captain? You seem to have those skills." "Yes, Thomas. Until I became captain of the Olympic, I served as Counselor on several ships. Any skills I may have, you may call on if I can ever be of any help. And, it's Lexia or Lexi. "Jina and I have been friends for a very long time, Thomas. She feels safe with me and trusts me. As you've seen in her records, she is brilliant. Intelligence is off the scale. She has a [photographic] and photophonic [memory]. If she sees it, or hears it, it's hers immediately. "But along with all that talent, she has a lot of insecurities and fears. She doesn't realize how gifted she is and she's afraid of being in charge of anything. Scared to death she'll make a mistake, and because of that fear she often does [just that]. Many things frighten her; she used to think that Klingons ate humans - she'd hide behind me whenever Lt Commander Hochmuth came around. I think she's mostly over that, but it does still surface from time to time. "I've tried to help her see how worthwhile she is, but I've had only a little success. I hope you'll have more, that perhaps together we can help her. So please don't hesitate to call on me if you need me, or to ask me anything that you think will help. I'm quite impressed with what I've heard about your work in the short time you've been aboard the Olympic." "Thank you, Lexia," he said seriously. I appreciate the information you've shared with me and without my having to ask." "Having to ask doesn't seem to be a problem of yours, Thomas," Lexia said with a huge smile on her face. "[I] keep meaning to have a talk with that Dr Nicole Mohning, but my officers seem to keep beating me to it." He looked surprised at that. She did seem to have her finger on what happened aboard her ship without appearing to be around to see it happen. He offered her his hand and she took it in a warm grip as he left the turbolift to attend to those who needed his help at the moment. He'd be kept busy for a while she thought. Not only with Jina, but perhaps with DiFalco, Sr., and Debbie Bates. And because of Debbie Bates, perhaps with Jack Sullivan, too. |Jack will probably need help with that,| thought Lexi. She knew what Debbie had been to Jack, though she doubted that any of the others really did. And if she sensed that Jack needed help dealing with it, she'd have a quiet talk with Counselor Lawrence if Jack didn't seek that help himself. [Captain Lexia Tremaine] [USS OLYMPIC] Date: Tue, 29 Mar 1994 23:32:10 -0800 (PST) {A back-post from Brian,} From: Judith B Marko M {posted by Judi/Lexia. It has} Subject: USS OLYMPIC Ready Room-->Gym {been moved to a location in} {the story where it better fits} {the chronology.} Stardate 60329.0025 In the Ready Room, hands were being shaken and congratulations exchanged, as the crewmembers of the USS Olympic and the USS Nova were celebrating their latest round of promotions and commendations. It was a happy occasion, but none of them forgot how serious the problems were that they still faced. "Okay, people, can I have your attention for a moment?" That was Commodore Jack Sullivan, who had been the last to arrive when the meeting began. Apparently he had some things to say about the upcoming events of the mission. "Feel free to spend the rest of th day celebrating and enjoying yourselves. You've earned it. But tomorrow, we're back on duty again. I'll be leading an Away Team to the planet to speak with the Guardian about what will be required of us. Berak, you and two men will be with me, and Mr. Chizh and Dr. Crown, our two resident historians, will also be joining the party." This last was said with a rather lopsided grin directed at the two last-mentioned officers. "This is to be an inquiry only. I expect no untoward occurrences, but be prepared just in case. We'll be beaming down at 0830 from Transporter Room 2. Berak, I'll want to see you in my quarters one hour earlier. Any questions?" There were none. As the group broke up and the officers each went their own way, Jack turned to Lexia and spoke to her in a low voice, and she could feel the uneasiness emanating from him like heat from an oven. "I need to talk to you, too, Lexi, but I'm not ready yet. I want to sit down with our new Counselor first, after returning from the planet. There are some things I need to work out." |That's about the understatement of the year,| thought the Captain. She had felt nothing like this from him since _his_ promotion to Captain some time back. He had been terribly upset about it, she remembered, but with her help, he had come to terms with his own insecurities about command, and had become a fine example of just what command in Starfleet was _really_ all about. She only hoped she could follow in his footsteps as Captain of the Olympic, although everyone had told her already what a fine job she was doing, especially Jack himself. And now he was upset again. He knew what he needed, and she was in complete agreement. Normally she would try to help him herself, as she had done before, but she knew this time an outsider was required, for Lexia herself was part of the problem. This much she could figure out without even using her Betazoid powers. The return of Debbie Bates had been a completely unexpected blow to Sullivan, and nobody, not even Lexia, could tell how he would handle it in the long run. She hoped fervently that Lawrence would be able to help Jack. She nodded in response to his statement, smiling to show that she understood and would not press him on the matter. He waited until the others had left, then exited himself, in silence. He had been unconsciously headed back to his quarters, but when he remembered that they were not empty, he changed his mind. He began to make his way to one of the ball courts in the ship's Gymnasium complex. He passed by the tennis court and the bowling alley, nodding and smiling as crewmembers acknowledged his presence. He had used the facilities on his various ships extensively before his rapid rise to his current exalted rank. Since then, he had found little time to use them, much to his regret. The press of his duties made it difficult to concentrate on anything but work and worry. Lexia knew; she had berated him several times for not -making- the time to work out. While the mental and physical well-being of the crew fell under Medical's jurisdiction, with the help of the Ship's Counselor, she, as a former Counselor, still felt compelled to help where she could. Of course, if she knew why he was here now, she might not approve. He felt the need for something, a physical something, that she could not provide. Nor could Debbie; it was not a sexual need, but rather something almost diametrically opposite. He needed to subsume his sexual need into something different, aggressive, primal in its own way, and yet refined. He stopped in a cubicle to change into shorts and a cutoff Tee with the words "Starfleet Academy Athletics Department" stenciled across the front. He was glad the replicators here in the Gym were so well programmed. It was those little touches of humor and authenticity that made them so effective. He ordered up a set of three handballs and headed for an open court. The ball courts in the Gym had been set up with holo-technology, like the holodecks, so that a lone player could call up a host of opponents if he so desired. They were limited in that this was all they could do; no surroundings were generated, nor could the simulator produce any solid objects. Only players. But these could be many and varied. He started with a simple one-on-one, with a human opponent of about his own size and strength. After defeating the poor fellow in less than five minutes, he decided that something a little more challenging was in order. "Computer, variation: Orion cutthroat. Opponents, Klingon male, Edoan male. Execute." Two figures appeared in the court. The Klingon was a massive specimen, measuring perhaps an inch or so shorter than the huge Chief of Security at ALB, Lt. Cmdr. Hochmuth. The Edoan, considerably smaller, had a different advantage. Members of his race were descended from a six-limbed primate, and so had ended up with three each of arms and legs. The gravity in the chamber gradually lessened until the three men drifted in total free fall. Even as a past champion, Jack knew he had his hands full with this match. But that was exactly what he wanted. An encounter so furious, so fast, strong, and demanding that he had no choice but to put everything else aside and concentrate one hundred percent on the game. And that is precisely what happened. Sullivan became so engrossed in his play that he didn't notice the crowd which had begun to gather behind the glass wall which formed the rear of the court. As the game progressed, more and more people left off what they were doing and came to join the throng. They had never before witnessed such a spectacular display of balance, control, and grace under pressure. The Commodore moved with a fluidity that was so unlike his normal, rather stiff posture, he seemed to become one with the ball. His anticipation was tremendous; he seemed to know exactly what his opponents would do even before they knew themselves. The score was close. The Edoan was ahead by a point, with the Klingon just two point back, and time was running out. One more score, and the Edoan would be victorious. Jack redoubled his efforts, and soon he had tied the score, with the Klingon still a point behind. And now it was down to the wire. The Klingon served, with such force and speed that the audience could almost see the flames coming off of the ball. Somehow, Jack managed to return this cannon shot, moving aside for the Edoan to take the next hit. The volley went on for quite a long time, and it seemed several times that one or the other of the combatants might be on the verge of triumph, but then another would make a great return, and it was up for grabs again. Finally, with a change-up slow shot. Jack managed to place the ball directly into an edge of the court, where its velocity suddenly died to almost nothing. Neither of his opponents could reach it before it struck another wall, and that was how it ended. Score, Sullivan 15, Edoan 14, Klingon 13. The crowd burst into enthusiastic applause as the gravity slowly reasserted itself and the two aliens vanished. Jack was exhausted, totally drained. He collapsed into a sitting position, propped against one wall. He didn't even notice the ovation for a moment, until he had come back into himself. Slowly he turned to face the crowd of his admirers. He rose to his feet and, grinning, gave a short bow of acknowledgment. He could not wipe the grin off of his face as he left the court and headed for a hot shower. For the first time in too long, Jack Sullivan actually felt -good- about himself again. Now he was ready to face anything the Galaxy might throw at him, Debbie Bates and Lexia Tremaine notwithstanding. Hell, he even felt he could deal with Sara Anderson showing up, now. He was a new man. -Commodore Sullivan Non-RP: My account at Indirect has been deactivated temporarily. Until I am able to correct this problem, my posting will be even more sporadic than it has been this past two weeks. My apologies to all concerned for any problems this may cause, but believe me, it's even worse for me. I will hopefully still have intermittent access through Judi, but that's rather a poor second to my own access. Anyway, be that as it may, feel free to use Jack Sullivan however you wish for the rest of the day. I will write a post for the next morning, and we can take it from there. -Brian From: jknelson@telerama.lm.com (Lord Admiral Nelson) Subject: USS OLYMPIC Ready Room --> Gym Date: 27 Mar 1994 03:18:26 -0500 StarDate: 60327.0230 Stae-faan filed out of the Ready Room, trailing along near the end of the line of officers. All in all, it was not quite what he had expected. He glanced at the small box he held in his right hand, the one holding his new half-pip. The promotion most certainly had been a surprise. Of course, he'd been concentrating on restraining his 'maerel,' a thing he'd never really had to do before. Doing so made him less perceptive of the people and things around him, limiting his chance to "catch on" to unanticipated developments such as the one Captain Tremaine had presented. Now, with the meeting over and everyone officially "off duty", Stae-faan could relax his restraint--providing that he first put a little distance between himself and Lt. Dwight. He was glad that such precautions would shortly become a thing of the past. Soon, the time would come when he could interact with _all_ of his fellow crew-members, thanks to the efforts of the Captain. "Hey, Stae-faan," someone called from behind him. He turned to see his friend Lawrence approaching. "Congratulations," [Lawrence said.] "And congratulations to you as well, Counselor," Stae-faan responded. "Thanks." Lawrence reached out and took the box from Stae-faan's hand. "You're a Lt. (jg) now, Stae-faan," he said as he opened the box. "Time to look the part." Stae-faan stood calmly as Lawrence pinned the half-pip to his collar. When he was done, the newly promoted Lieutenant (jg) returned the favor. "There you are, Counselor," he said, when he had the half-pip secured. "What are your plans, if I may ask, now that we are officially 'off duty'?" The Counselor offered him a mischievous smile. "Despite the Captain's 'request', I'm afraid I've got much too important a case waiting for me in Sickbay to be taking some free time right now. Otherwise, I'd be glad to join you in six-forward." "Actually, Six-Forward was not--'on my itinerary'--so to speak." "Ah, yes. As I recall, you tend to 'distance yourself from large, social gatherings'." Stae-faan eyed his friend curiously. "Thomas, you've been reading my bio, haven't you?" "Well, I _am_ the Ship's Counselor, after all," he answered. "Though it was the medical summation I thought held the most interest. I mean, I find it difficult to believe that, even as we speak, there is this 'silent symphony' going on all around me, with you at its source." Stae-faan acknowledged his statement with a shrug. "What can I say, except that I seem to be playing for a very select audience?" The Counselor laughed. "I'd still like to know a little more about it. And about you too, I suppose." "It's a big ship, Thomas, but not that big. I'm sure we'll eventually have the chance to exchange a story or two." "I'm looking forward to it. But for now, it'll just have to wait. Like I said at the start, I'm needed in Sickbay." Stae-faan bid his friend good-bye. "Then I shall not keep you any longer." He watched as Counselor Lawrence hurried to catch a turbo-lift, then made his own way back to his quarters. Once there, he changed from his regulation uniform to something more casual, then left again, this time for the Olympic's gymnasium. To be continued.... Respectfully submitted, Lt. (jg) Stae-faan LuCypher USS OLYMPIC NRPG: Please count me in for time travel. I'm sure Stae-faan will find the experience most interesting. JEFF: If you want to do some poking into Stae-faan's past, e-mail me and let me know. I think there's some potential for an interesting sub-plot here. Kurt Nelson jknelson@telerama.lm.com From: jknelson@telerama.lm.com (Lord Admiral Nelson) Subject: USS OLYMPIC - Gymnasium Date: 27 Mar 1994 03:35:10 -0500 StarDate: 60327.0300 The Olympic's gymnasium was both large and impressive. Stae-faan took his time in touring the facility, quietly observing the different groups engaging in activities ranging from Arcturian martial arts to Bajoran spring ball. What at last caught and held his attention, though, were two crew members, one male and one female, engaged in a vigorous fencing exercise. Lt. (jg) LuCypher moved to a space where he could better observe. Both participants showed a high degree of talent, the man attempting to utilize his greater reach to its best advantage, the woman, answering his efforts with quick, precise ripostes and brilliantly executed counter-attacks. After a minute or so, of spirited exchanges, the woman slipped deftly past her opponent's guard, tagging him squarely in the chest. Stae-faan applauded politely as the two contestants paused in their workout, both of them removing their face-guards and turning to greet him. "Hi there," the man said, smiling. "I'm Kevin DeMerreau, Sensor Specialist /2. My worthy partner here is Kaporra Keshaunn, from the Botany Department." He stepped forward to offer Stae-faan a hand. "And you are...?" "Stae-faan LuCypher, Lieutenant, Junior Grade," Stae-faan said cordially, accepting the proffered hand. "I have just recently arrived here on the Olympic." "We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant," Kaporra stated. "To what department have you been assigned?" "I've been given the OPS position," Stae-faan informed them. Kevin laughed. "Oh-ho, that makes you my new boss. Lt. Paul has had us working hard to make sure the transition goes as smoothly as possible." "The records thus far have been very complete," Stae-faan informed him. "I would say your efforts have been most successful." Specialist DeMerreau gave a slight nod of gratitude. "Thanks," he said, then paused to wipe his brow. "You fence?" he asked, changing the subject. "A little," Stae-faan responded. "I have more experience, though, with the long-sword." Kevin rolled his eyes. "Another one," he said to Kaporra. "That seems to be quite the rage at the Academy these days." "There were certainly more of that style of weapon than I had anticipated," Stae-faan conceded. "Lt. LuCypher," Kaporra said. "Kevin and I have been working diligently over the past five weeks to improve his skills--" "She always wins," Kevin said, interrupting. "True, but the effort required for me to achieve that victory has increased dramatically since our start, Kevin. You have made excellent progress." Kaporra turned to Stae-faan. "If you are interested, I believe we would be glad to have you join us in our sessions." "My style tends to be a bit...unorthodox," Stae-faan confessed. "A variety in opponent would do both of us good," Kaporra declared. "The necessary equipment is just over there. Please, put it on and join us." The two specialists rested as Stae-faan donned the protective gear. When he returned, it was decided he would pair off against Kevin, allowing Kaporra to make observations regarding both of them. "Uh-oh, a sinistral," Kevin sighed when he saw Stae-faan holding the foil in his left hand. "I can see I'm in trouble already." A moment later, they engaged, Kevin quickly asserting an offensive stance, Stae-faan silently consenting to taking a more defensive posture, allowing the song of his 'maerel' to rise up in a silent symphony around him. |It's not the same as wielding Moradrim,| Stae-faan thought. But that was to be expected. His own sword had been especially crafted for him, made to carry the fullness of his song. Still, his 'maerel' revealed enough to him of his opponent for him to still be effective. Seconds later, DeMerreau found himself disarmed, Stae-faan's foil gently touching his sternum, signaling defeat. "I _knew_ I was in trouble," he said with a grin, then stooped to retrieve his foil. "All right, let's try that again." His next five tries ended in the same manner as the first, his longest effort lasting only forty-five seconds. "Hold on a sec," he said after his latest defeat. "I think I need some advice from my resident expert." He turned to his Vulcan companion. "What do you say, Kaporra? His style's _nothing_ like yours, and I think he might even be a bit faster." "You are correct in both of your observations, Kevin," she said. "I have never seen a style like Stae-faan's. Virtually all elements of his technique are different from what might be anticipated. Combining these components with his speed and choice of hand is what has allowed him to defeat you each time." Kevin nodded. "OK, given all that, what do you recommend?" Kaporra's brow knitted in thought. A moment later, she directed her attention to Stae-faan. "Are you, by chance, a telepath?" she asked. The question caught Stae-faan off guard. "No, that seems to be a [trait primarily associated with Betazoids], which I am not," Stae-faan informed her. "Why do you ask?" "Based on my analysis, your technique would only be effective were one able to anticipate the actions of one's opponent with an exceptionally high degree of accuracy. As you have demonstrated consistent success with this style, it is only logical to conclude that you are effectively anticipating Kevin's actions well-beyond what might be expected for normal chance. Telepathy might be one means by which such anticipations might be made." Kevin eyed Kaporra suspiciously. "Vulcans are telepathic, too, Miss Keshaunn. Could this be the advantage you have been using against me all this time?" Kaporra shook her head. "No, Kevin, though I _have_ kept an accurate accounting of your efforts and have used that to predict your moves with some success." "I see," Kevin mused. "Then I might do better were I to do something unexpected." He directed his attention to Stae-faan. "Let's give it one more try, shall we?" Again the two men crossed foils as Kaporra observed. She saw nothing to indicate that this engagement would conclude any differently than the previous ones. Yet just when it seemed Kevin was again doomed to defeat, he made an elaborate feint--no, a double-feint, his foil at last slipping past Stae-faan's guard. Stae-faan was able to partially avoid the thrust so that it missed his chest, the point instead catching him in the upper part of his right arm. Without warning, Kevin's foil suddenly snapped, the jagged remnant driving forward and drawing blood. "My God, Stae-faan! Are you OK?" Kevin cried as he pulled back the broken shank. Stae-faan removed his mask and blinked a few times, then dropped his own foil, reaching up and clasping his left hand over the wound. "I would definitely say that qualifies as something 'unexpected', Mr. DeMerreau," he replied, offering the man a weak grin. "I will summon a medic," Kaporra announced. Stae-faan shook his head. "That will not be necessary. The injury is not at all severe. Tell me though, Kevin, what exactly was that maneuver you used?" "It's something called the 'Schiffer Double-gambit', he said. Seeing Kaporra's questioning look, he explained further. "I've been doing a little research and some holodeck practice. I was hoping to use it against _you_." "Instead, you have used it to injure your department head," she stated. Kevin put a hand to his forehead. "Oh, geez," he groaned. "Definitely not the way to make a good impression." "Fear not, Kevin," Stae-faan said, the humor evident in his eyes. "I'm sure I'll have forgotten all about this incident by tomorrow when I ask you for a complete Level One diagnostic report of the entire ship's Sensor system." Kevin's eyes went wide. "Just kidding," Stae-faan confessed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should be getting to Sickbay." "Let us know when it's fixed," Kevin requested. Stae-faan gave him an obliging nod as he left. "Sickbay, please," he said when he entered the turbo-lift. He was glad that Kevin was unaware of the extent of the damage he'd caused, for the broken foil had penetrated to the bone. As the turbo-lift carried him along, Stae-faan focused his thoughts, his violet eyes flickering with power. At once, the damaged tissue began to mend. It would not do, he realized, to heal the wound completely. To do so would invite questions he would rather were not asked. Instead, when he arrived at Sickbay, it would be with a consistent, yet much more manageable injury. The turbo-lift stopped and he exited, having but a short walk before he reached his destination. Schiffer, Stae-faan thought. Kevin had referred to the move which had injured him by that name. Was there a connection between it and the man he had met in training at ALB? As the doors to Sick-bay slid open before him, he decided he would do some research to find out. Respectfully submitted, Lt. (jg) Stae-faan LuCypher USS OLYMPIC Kurt Nelson jknelson@telerama.lm.com NRPG: I've introduced two new NPC's here, one of which (Kevin DeMerreau) is on Stae-faan's staff. No doubt there will be a few more "additions" as time goes on. Hey John, if you're reading the Olympic posts, did you want a sword-maneuver named after your character? If so, I'll be glad to give you the credit. If not, I'll tie it to some "other" Schiffer. Dr. Crown: Here Stae-faan comes for his first visit to sickbay and _you're_ out drinking with your buddies. :) Oh well, I guess the twins will just have to handle it (or else the delightful Dr. Mohning ). -- Date: Thu, 24 Mar 1994 22:50:02 -0800 (PST) From: "Michael D. Miller" Subject: Re: USS OLYMPIC: POST-STAFF MEETING On Thu, 24 Mar 1994 MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU wrote: > SD: 60324.2139 [snip] > "Something funny there," whispered Lawrence to LuCypher. "Wonder > what that is?" > LuCypher shrugged. He could sense the happiness between > Crown and DiFalco, but couldn't probe without > [releasing restraint] of his maerel and possibly transfixing the > Bajorans in the room. [snip] NRPG: Ummm, Matt, let me point out a small gaff here. Lt. LuCypher's 'maerel' affects Betazoid's not Bajoran's. Btw, congratulations on the promotion! (Same goes to my fellow shipmates who have been promoted. Congratulations!) Mike Miller aka Cmdr. Berak L'Gryphon (more than slightly surprised.) First Officer (an even bigger surprise), USS Olympic Date: Fri, 25 Mar 1994 01:20:27 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: Ooops! Oooops! My mistake, gang! Now that I've gotten a couple of letters from y'all (hey, I'm in Kansas...we say that here), I will admit it: I make mistakes! I'm not kidding! I meant to say Betazoids rather than Bajorans...like I told Kurt, I'll have to read my Deep Space 9 comic books _after_ I post...little things like that get in sometimes...sorry! This satire was brought to you by the University of Kansas Academic Computer System, Inc...not Matt Hydeman (because we know he wouldn't do something naughty like that :) --Matt Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu From: gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu (Gwendolyn M Brophy) Subject: USS OLYMPIC-Numerous Places! Date: Fri, 25 Mar 1994 11:29:14 -0500 (EST) NRPG: Two things: Paul, read this one! Second, I am assuming that Bleyn is the new CEO. If not, sorry, just change to the appropriate name! N'Jira was pleasantly surprised to hear that DiFalco would be her captain. He certainly deserved it, she thought. She'd heard of the goings on from the planet, and had been shocked by what they had had to do to secure the Guardian. Next to that, her mission had been a snap. After congratulating him, she decided to go to engineering and finish her crew reports. She began thinking of her transfer to the Nova. |Thank God, I never finished unpacking,| she thought. She had just left everything in a big heap in the middle of the floor. She hadn't planned on staying long, but had at least wanted to make the ship seem like home. No chance, considering how fast everything went. She also decided to check one more time on the engines that she would be leaving. A devilish smile curled her lips as she knew that it was also her last chance to needle Lt. Irving. He still wasn't going to be the Chief Engineer. She pitied her successor. Entering the big room, she watched for a moment as the people busily went back and forth, performing their duties. Singling out the tall form of Lt. Irving, she approached him. Before she got there, he had sensed her and turned and leveled his cold blue eyes on her. "Lt. Klaen. I though you transferred to the Nova." "No, Lieutenant. I have a few hours left as Chief Engineer here. I plan on using those hours, too. I have to prepare the section for the new Chief." She watched him as he struggled to control his composure. |God help me,| she thought. |I am enjoying watching this man squirm.| She began to berate herself on her very unprofessional attitude. |Then, again, turn about is fair play. But, you needn't sink to his level.| |Oh, shut up with the platitudes,| she told herself. |You feel bad, so stop doing it.| "The new chief will want everything in top condition. I trust you'll handle it, Lieutenant?" At his slight nod, she motioned him to follow her into her office. He stood at attention, and she didn't bother to tell him at ease, since he wouldn't have sat down anyway. "Lieutenant, I am putting on your record that you have a serious attitude problem. You've been disrespectful, rude, and unprofessional from the start." At those words, a little sliver of guilt rode up her throat. "I am forced to relay this information. You are aware of what this could mean?" Again, he merely nodded. His eyes were still dead. No emotion at all. It didn't scare her; it took more than one human man to scare her, but she was uneasy by the lack of feeling that this man displayed. |Good luck to the new chief.| "Do you have anything to say?" At his, 'No, sir' she concluded. "Dismissed, Lt. Irving." He turned on his heel and left. She, too left Engineering, after she filled out the crew reports. She was curious to meet the Ensign Paul who had seemed so quiet at the meeting. She shrugged her shoulders and asked for directions to his quarters. Following the lights, she found herself in front of his doors, waiting for [his] call to come in. When it came, she entered, smiling brightly. "I need some company. Would you care to join me?" Lt. N'Jira Klaen gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu NRPG: Paul, since we will be working together, why not get to know one another? Besides, Ens. Paul sounded too lonely for me to allow to continue! Because I don't know who the new engineer will be on the Olympic, this [is] directed to the person who thinks he will be that person. I don't know what you want to do with Irving, but he is a very unpleasant man who does not like the fact that he has been passed over as Chief Engineer six times already. (This makes it seven). If you keep him, he could be a really nice foil for your character. Or, you could dump him out of a shuttle bay. From: "...Paul" Date: Fri, 25 Mar 1994 13:16:05 -0500 Subject: USS Olympic, Paul's Quarters Stardate 60325.1316 The computerized door chime chimed. Paul was still staring at the recessed lighting fixtures when it happened, but within microseconds he made himself scarce. He wasn't sure who it was. He told the computer to let them in. Lt. N'Jira Klaen walked in to an empty room, a smile on her face. Before she realized she was talking to an empty bed, she managed to get out, "I need some company. Would you care to join me?". Then, realizing there wasn't anyone in front her, she looked to her left and right, muttering something to the effect of "Where the hell did you go?". A Starfleet officer has not yet jumped as high as Klaen did when Paul placed a soft hand on Klaen's shoulder. Paul had managed, with great success, to place himself out of the line of sight when Klaen walked in, and then moved with great stealth behind her. The joke had been great fun for Paul. Inside, Klaen appreciated the prank as well, but feigned irritation by giving Paul's shoulder a little push, accompanied by "What the hell do you think you're doing, scaring the crap out of me like that?" It didn't phase Paul. "You asked me to join you; where were you thinking of going?" Paul replied calmly, smoothly. ...Paul Lieutenant, Junior Grade, USS Olympic Awaiting re-assignment aboard the USS Nova From: gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu (Gwendolyn M Brophy) Subject: USS OLYMPIC-Out on the Town. Date: Fri, 25 Mar 1994 15:52:30 -0500 (EST) N'Jira tried to smother the smile that kept creeping back onto her face. |What a way to introduce yourself to someone,| she thought. |I'm always late, he scares them to death.| "Well, I suppose we could go to 6-Forward." She suggested, but the look on his face told her no. "I was there earlier." The tall man regarded her solemnly. "I had cappuccino." "You know, the root of all wrong in the universe leads down to bad coffee, according to a philosophizing friend of mine." N'Jira said, taking a small walk to the window and back. |So, he didn't unpack either, huh?| That told her that he was at least a little bit like her. "He says that the coffee is bad because the pots are dirty. Why are they dirty? Because no one will clean them. Why won't they clean them? Because they are too lazy. Why are they too lazy? BAD COFFEE. It just gets bigger and bigger after that. It really is amazing how much is based on bad coffee." Paul finally smiled, amazed at this very unusual piece of logic. "Well, the coffee in 6-Forward is actually quite good." "Ah, it's nothing like the real thing, though. Take the whiskey, for example. My father makes the best home brew in six counties. The stuff here is for removing paint from something. I would kill for a good _real_ whiskey." Paul thought that this red head might make life a little more interesting if he got to know her better. She definitely had his type of sense of humor. She was probably the one kid who always accepted dares and climbed to the highest branches--but always fell on her feet. "So, where do you want to go?" He asked. N'Jira, knowing how anxious Paul must be over the delay in the promotion list for the Nova (she was, a little, too, she had to admit) decided on something that would be really fun. "We're going to the holodeck." She announced. With a self satisfied nod, she turned, walked to the door, and looked over her shoulder at Paul. "Coming?" Lt.N'Jira Klaen gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu NRPG: That was a pretty cool delay tactic, I must say so myself. I'll have to ponder what it is we will do...unless you've got any ideas, Paul? From: "...Paul" Date: Fri, 25 Mar 1994 16:47:00 -0500 Subject: USS Olympic, Paul's Quarters -> Holodeck 2 Stardate 60325.1648 "Coming?" said the feisty little Irish Bajoran. She was already halfway out Paul's door. Paul snagged his small duffel and flung it over his shoulder. He took several quick, long steps and caught up to the bubbly Lieutenant bouncing down the corridor before him. It wasn't long before they reached Holodeck Two, where the red-haired fireball stopped abruptly, gave a quick hop and a twist, and turned to face Paul. Or at least, Paul's chin. N'Jira was tall, but Paul was even taller. "Where should we go, then?" N'Jira asked. "Dunno. This was your idea, you know." "I know, but I thought maybe you had an idea on the way over." "Well, umm... Geez, I've forgotten your name!" "N'Jira, Paul. By the way, do you have a last name?" "No, I don't. I am Paul. Just Paul. Only Paul. I kinda like it that way, but it sure can be a pain. All those exams at Starfleet, where you had to fill in your 'Last Name, First Name, Middle Initial'. I almost got a few weeks of KP because I filled in 'Paul, Paul'. The professor wasn't convinced that Paul was both my first and last name if I had only one name." N'Jira laughed, and Paul cracked a smile at his own joke. Rarely had he ever engaged in such trivial conversation. It was a new experience. "Anyway, N'Jira," Paul continued, "Where are you from? Maybe we could 'go' there, and you could show me around?" "Well, I'm from Ireland. I suppose we could go there. Where are you from?" "Aramonde IV." "Where's that? I've never heard of it?" Paul moved out the way of a passing Ensign before answering. "It's a rim world. It was just mapped about three years ago, when they found us. My family, I mean." "Sounds fascinating." "Not really." ...Paul Lieutenant, Junior Grade, USS Olympic Awaiting Reassignment to the USS Nova From: gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu (Gwendolyn M Brophy) Subject: USS OLYMPIC-Holodeck Adventure. Sat, 26 Mar 1994 12:48:39 -0500 (EST) N'Jira was silent for a moment as his words sunk in. She smiled, shaking her head and gave him one of the biggest compliments to come from her. "You've got a great sense of humor, Paul. I just hope that you don't know about April Fool's Day." She thought about that one for a moment, and changed her mind. "No, actually, I hope you _do_ know, because then we could really get someone good." She had a rather nasty smile on her face thinking of the possibilities. Then, it disappeared. "Well, I could show you Ireland, but you would only be able to experience its aesthetic qualities. You can't really _know_ Ireland until you've met the people. So...I know what we can do! Ha ha!" With a triumphant laugh, she went to a computer panel and began entering program data. When the doors swooshed open, she ushered a nervous Paul in. He was taken aback to find himself on the shore of a raging river. There was a small raft, with two oars, helmets and floatation devices inside it, sitting at his feet. About thirty feet out, the river was running faster than a comet, and looked about as mean as a Klingon's pet [targ]. N'Jira took a deep breath, then jumped into the raft. She began pulling on the floatation devices and was piling her hair up on top of her head to put on the helmet. "Shouldn't we change out of our uniforms?" Paul asked. N'Jira turned, with a smile, and said, "I don't know you THAT well, Ensign Paul!" Paul looked vaguely uncomfortable, that wasn't what he meant. "Have you ever done this before?" "No, but my father told me what to do. You get in. You row. You try to stay in the boat. If you fall out, you turn on your back, cross your arms, and ride the rapids feet first. That's all you need to know. We won't capsize." Paul, watching her as she shoved her hair up and under the helmet, began to feel, in the tiniest way, that this might be fun. Shrugging, he grabbed the helmet and floatation device, and put them on. "Are you sure we should do this in our uniforms? They'll get wet!" "Well, I'm not doing it naked, and they'll dry!" She got out, and started to push the raft into the water. He leaned over and helped. When they were in waist high water, they both jumped in, N'Jira up front, Paul in back. "Now, you're going to have to steer, Paul. There's nothing to it. Just lean into it--but not out of it." He nodded, and they began paddling out to the rapids. He knew when they made it, not because they got jounced around or because of the white water spilling everywhere, but because they suddenly picked up speed and were hurtling down the rapids. He watched N'Jira's back as she began to paddle furiously. "Paul! We're headed for a really big rock. It might be a good idea to steer now!" She had to shout at the top of her lungs, since the roar of the water made it difficult to hear. Paul saw the rock, and felt for sure now that this woman was crazy. He pulled the oar with all of his might, and the boat sailed around the rock, scraping it on one side. He smiled at the thrill of the near miss, and began to pull the oar this way and that, making a path through the white water. He was really enjoying himself. The worry over the possible promotion, or lack thereof, was pushed to the back of his mind. They dodged rocks, and fought to keep the small raft right side up. His whole uniform was soaked, but he didn't care. This was great. Suddenly, N'Jira began paddling like crazy. "Paul! Paul! We're going to capsize! We're going to...." With those words in his ear, Paul found himself dropped into the ice water. He surfaced, struggled until he was in the position that N'Jira had mentioned, then began to ride out the rapids. He saw her helmet several feet downstream--and he could swear he heard her laughing. But the roar was too loud for him to really tell. His feet bounced him off of rocks, not hurting him, but jolting him a bit. He was being carried downstream very quickly. Up ahead, he saw N'Jira catch hold of a rock, and scramble up it. He tried to aim for it, but it was more difficult than it looked, and he realized he was going to sail right by it. N'Jira stuck out her hand, he grabbed, nearly pulling her off of the rock. She pulled him until he was able to grab the rock and climb up it. When he made it to the top, he looked around. They were in the middle of the river, high on a rock, with no way to get to shore. The sun was shining down, warming them up, but their clothes were wet and N'Jira started to shiver. As they assessed the situation, they both began to think it was funny. When their eyes met, they both lost it. Laughing, they had to clutch the rock to keep from falling off. Paul got out: "I'm never trusting you again! You said we wouldn't capsize!" "I lied." She continued to laugh. "Let's get out of here. I've had enough fun for one day.....maybe. Computer, end program." They were sitting on the floor of the grid room. Getting up, N'Jira sloshed her way to the door. "_Now_ do you want to go to 6-Forward?" She asked Paul, wringing out her hair. "Like this?" He pointed to the puddles that were forming underneath them. "Sure, why not?" At his look, she smiled. "Oh, all right. You go change and I'll go change. Meet me in 6-Forward in, oh, a half hour, say?" "Okay." As she turned to walk to her quarters, Paul decided to try a joke. He wanted to see what her reaction would be. "Can I watch?" He peered at her, putting a mock leer on his face. N'Jira smiled, walked over and patted his cheek. "Maybe next time, dear!" Wetly submitted, Lt. N'Jira Klaen gbrophy@sas.upenn.edu {Editor's Note: Hmmm.... Wouldn't the holographic water disappear along with the rest of the holographs once the program was ended? Just wondering...} Date: Sun, 27 Mar 1994 01:01:41 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Crown--Personal Message NRPG--This message is sent to Dr. Adam Crown's quarters while he is enjoying himself with Berak and Alex in Six-Forward. ************ >>>>>>>INCOMING MESSAGE FROM ARMSTRONG LUNAR BASE>>>>>>> TO: Dr. Adam Crown, Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic FROM: Dr. Samantha Hennessey, Staff Physician, Armstrong Lunar Base RE: Our last discussion SD: 60326.0025 >>>>>>>CLASSIFICATION: LEVEL 3>>>>>>> Adam-- My congratulations on your promotion to lieutenant! See what I told you? You had nothing to worry about.... Your mom would have sent this message, but there have been some nasty storms in Deseret City and her commlink is down. I hope all is going well aboard Olympic...wherever she is. I know that this message may be delayed in getting to you, but the information contained within it may be of some value, hence my coding this message as Classification 3. Miranda [NRPG--Adam's mother] contacted me and said she received a small package from Starfleet Medical the other day...with some of your sister's possessions from her old apartment in San Francisco. (Why Starfleet Medical had this stuff, I've no idea...neither does Miranda. Any guesses?) Although many of the things were of little consequence--trinkets that your sister had when I was in the Academy with her, as well as things she must have left behind when she was to report to the USS Dallion--there was a small datachip that made up one of the eyes of the Nairok'i dolls. (Tabitha and I got those dolls from when we took a vacation to Mi'ossa VI, and I can tell you that datachips were _not_ used for the eyes before). Miranda sent the chip to me. It was badly damaged, but I did extract a piece of information from it. Adam...it was a fragment of a communique to Tabitha, asking her to voluntarily join..._something_.... That part's been destroyed or erased. I'm getting more and more worried...and mystified. I'm sure that the chip wasn't overlooked by whomever collected Tabitha's stuff. It's very possible they found the chip, too, and tampered with it, then replaced it, thinking that Miranda would never find it. But they didn't count on your mother being so thorough with Tabitha's possessions once she got them. Was it Starfleet, I wonder? Or was it the Alliance? Though I'd love to pin it on J.J. and his cohorts for this, my sixth sense tells me that Starfleet is still covering up something about your sister and the Dallion's crew...not to mention the Millaud Star System.... But enough theorizing for me. That's all the news I have for now. Miranda says hi and she is-- as always--worrying about you. In her words, "I'd still have been happier if you were here fulfilling your father's work!" Guess you'll never win with her, Crown.... Be safe, my friend...and come back to see me.... Love, Samantha Hennessey >>>>>>>END MESSAGE>>>>>>> NRPG--Enjoying the fine, very alcoholic drinks provided by our new First Officer in Six-Forward... :) Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Sun, 27 Mar 94 23:55:50 AST From: "Paul A. Canniff" Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Six-Forward --> Lt Chizh's Quarters USS OLYMPIC, SIX-FORWARD SD 60327.2000 Sasha joined the throng that made its way to Six-Forward to celebrate a successful mission and the promotions that went with it. He was mindful of the Captain's admonition to put work aside for the evening, but still Chizh felt that waiting was not enough. In any event, he knew a good drink could not hurt. Stepping up to the bar, he asked the rating, "A pint of lager, please. Can you do a Luzhanskaya?" "Sorry, sir, the closest program I have is... Okocim, Polish. Will that do?" "Sure." Spotting Dwight nearby, Sasha added, "In fact, make that two. And I know the replicators can do vodkas. Get me 125 mL of Kubanskaya, with some ice water and tumblers, please." Sasha took the brimming tray and made his way to Dwight's table. "Mind if I provide this round, sir?" "Not at all, Sasha," replied Dwight. "And just call me Robert. You're Olympic family now. So what's all this?" "A congratulatory lager and a replicator's passable copy of a Black Sea vodka. The water is the secret to good drinking, I'll show you!" Dwight said, "First, a toast to our new Tactical Officer." The two raised their glasses. "And to you, Robert. This is more your day than mine," added Chizh. They touched glasses and drank deeply of the crisp lager. "Thank you for the commendation. I'm grateful for the confidence you placed in me up there," said Chizh. "You earned it. That was good insight in a tough situation. And it will only get tougher from here. I think you'll do just as well then." "You're right about it getting tougher. I know we're supposed to put work aside but I would like to review with you at some point the complications I see in the next phase of the operation. Before we set out for time traveling, we have to develop a workable model of the problem. I saw your earlier memo about temporal disturbances. I'll prepare one for you to tie that information in with my creating an historiographical computer model." Dwight replied, "I look forward to it. Now, this vodka and water business. What's involved?" "Too many people take the vodka alone, Robert. Or they drink it too slowly. The secret is to down it quickly, let out your breath and then take an ice-water chaser. Try it." Chizh poured out two double shots of the Kubanskaya, placing a large tumbler of water beside each. "Ready? Za nash novii druzhba!" The two downed their glasses in quick sweeps and then exhaled. They stared at each other for a moment and then drank from the tumblers. For Chizh, the next sensation was one of soothing warmth. Dwight felt a brief shock inside and, after the water, a wave of calm. "I usually never drink this, but you're right, it does go down smoother!", said Dwight. "But the beer is a bit more my speed." "Well taken, Robert!', Chizh replied. They sat a while longer over their lagers, trading stories from their respective Academy days. The easy conversation helped strengthen the professional bond vital to their work onboard. Each knew that, in the days to come, their lives might depend on those bonds. Finishing their drinks, Chizh said, "I'd indulge you in another, but you should mingle and I ought to get straight to the task at hand. If you'll excuse me, Robert." "No problem, Sasha. Thank you again," said Dwight. Chizh turned to exit Six-Forward when he saw Berak, DiFalco and Doctor Crown together at a nearby table. He strode over. "Gentlemen. Congratulations, Captain. And you, too, Commander. Nova is in excellent hands." DiFalco replied, "Thank you, Lieutenant. And welcome to Tactical. You'll be a pleasant change from this gruff old Highlander," adding a generous wink to the latter words. To which Berak responded, "And ye'll not have to endure the wagging tongue of this one here, lad", mildly nudging DiFalco and smiling. "As you say, sir. Before your transfer, I hope I might obtain from you some insights on my new department. Between Tactical and my work in the history field, I'll need to stay on top of a lot." "I'll take ye around Security and Tactical, not to worry, son," said Berak. Crown then chimed in, "I'm an historian, as well, Chizh. You'll need help there. Just let me know." Chizh swung to face Crown, "With all due respect, Doctor, I'm not an historian, I'm an historiographical analyst. It's not enough to know something about the past. Our past is in dangerous flux, and that means understanding the dynamics of history. Your help will be appreciated if and when it's needed. Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me!" Chizh strode off briskly and exited Six-Forward. "What the hell was that about?", asked Crown. "Whatever ye've done, laddie, you've put a real bee in that one's bonnet," said Berak. "It's a question of turf, Adam. Remember our bridge meeting? Just be more careful with him. Use some of that bedside manner of yours," DiFalco added. "Whatever, Alex. Still..." ************ As he entered the turbolift to take him to his quarters, Chizh grasped what he had done. |That's a good start, Sasha, abuse a superior officer!| he thought to himself. |You know better than that. Anyway, he ought to stick to medicine. I didn't come all this way just to be muscled in on my job!| The turbolift opened to his deck and Chizh made his way briskly into his quarters. |Calm down, there's work to be done,| he thought. Chizh went over the replicator, order a large glass of tea and then sat down at his desk, activating his terminal. ============ NRPG: Matt: The episode they're referring to was when you said to Lexia, "With all due respect to Ensign Chizh, I'm an historian as well..." Bear in mind that Chizh spent two days cooped up at high warp, only to find someone apparently compromising his area of specialization. Besides, what's a good plot without some conflict? I leave it to you to decide how Adam will address this. Mark: I understand you're in transit. Chizh will post a memo on the modeling question. Mike: You are in a very busy mode. May I proceed with a TAC/CSO staff meeting, to address readiness for the continuing Romulan threat and the security of the Guardian Away Teams? =-=-=-=-=-=- Paul A. Canniff Partner ONA Corporate Research Inc. Tel.: (613) 230-3545 Ottawa, ON CANADA Fax: (613) 722-0025 Date: Sun, 27 Mar 1994 21:51:47 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: SIX-FORWARD/SICKBAY SD: 60327.2102 Adam Crown was having a fine time with DiFalco and L'Gryphon in Six-Forward, toasting to their promotions and sharing stories with each other. Adam's commbadge chirped. "Crown here." said Dr. V'ann. That stopped the three officers at the table. Berak and Alex looked at Adam as the CMO's brows knitted in a questioning look. "I'm on my way," said Adam, as his commbadge closed the channel. He stood up and prepared to leave. "Nothing serious, I hope?" asked Berak, beginning to stand up to follow Adam. Adam motioned for the new First Officer to sit. "No...I'm sure it's nothing, Commander. Stay here with the Captain...I'll be back." Neither man saw Alex DiFalco flinch slightly as Adam mentioned his new rank. |I've got to talk to Lexia,| he thought. |And soon.| ************ Minutes later, Adam Crown was coming through the glass and plasteel doors of Sickbay. "Now, what's all this about--" he began, then he saw the wound in LuCypher's arm. "Good Lord, LuCypher! What happened?" demanded Adam as he rushed over to LuCypher, his medical tricorder already in his hand, scanning the damaged part of the officer's arm. LuCypher explained what had happened in the Olympic's gymnasium and smiled weakly at Adam. "I guess this wasn't how I expected my career on the Olympic to begin," he admitted, gasping slightly when Adam placed a BioHeal chip near the wound, tapping out the activation code on the primary biobed. The chip sparkled, then created a sterility field over the wounded area. It flashed, then faded. Aquilla had walked into the treatment area and moved over to Adam. "If I may?" she said. Adam nodded. "You may...that is, if Lt. Lucypher has no objections?" he said, looking at him. LuCypher shook his head. "None at all. I've been [curious] to know what magic you work, Nurse." Aquilla smiled her always-serene smile and placed her hands on LuCypher's forehead, closing her eyes as she pressed her fingertips to his brow. Seconds later, she opened her eyes and removed her hands. "It is finished," she said. LuCypher's eyes had closed as well, and as he opened them, he gave a broad smile too. "[Excellent]," he murmured. Adam placed a small rectangle of Dermaskin over LuCypher's wound, and ran a small pen-like object over the rectangle. "Good as new," he said, giving one final look to the wounded area. "You'll want to be careful, though--at least for the next few days. Make an appointment to come back and see Dr. Mohning or Dr. V'ann, or myself, if I'm free. Do that in about a week." LuCypher nodded. He turned to Aquilla and caught her staring at him. "Problem?" he asked. Aquilla shook her head. "Nothing, Lieutenant...nothing." She excused herself and, with a look at Adam, left for the nurses station. Adam caught that look. "Now, _no_ fencing or any kind of strenuous exercise with that arm for at least three days--doctor's orders. I'd hate for you to get scarred because of it." "Promise," said LuCypher. "Good. You're free to go," said Adam. "I need to see Dr. V'ann now, so [if] you'll excuse me?" LuCypher left and Adam headed for Dr. V'ann's office. Barak V'ann was sitting behind his desk, drinking what appeared to be Y'Tribacan tea and staring intently at his terminal. "Barak? You wanted to see me?" asked Adam, making himself comfortable in one of V'ann's chairs. Dr. V'ann nodded. Shutting off his terminal, he looked at Adam and told him of his encounter with Ensign Deborah Bates and Lt. Commander Sebastian DiFalco. "I was overwhelmed," the younger doctor said, his face full of emotion. "I said the wrong things, did a general examination anyhow...damn it, Adam--how???" Adam looked perplexed. "You lost me halfway back, Barak. What are you talking about?" "The Guardian resurrected those two people, Adam--plucked them from some limbo and brought them here to that planet," said V'ann, pointing out his viewport to the slowly turning planet below. "And allowed them the chance to live again. What did that do to the flow of time? What right did the Guardian have to do that? As much as I have to say that it's fascinating to examine a person who should be dead and yet is alive, right in front of me, why disturb that flow? And what does it all mean?" Adam knew what V'ann was getting at, though he thought that the doctor was becoming more philosophical as he went on. He stopped V'ann before he could speak again. "Barak, I can't say much," said Adam, trying to walk this balance between telling the young physician everything and nothing. "But I can tell you that this will get resolved. Don't put me in this position," he said quickly as V'ann tried to ask a question. "Don't. Just know that what's done is done...and what is undone will be done." He stood up and paused at the door. "Don't worry, Barak," Adam said, hoping he was right in some way. "The true flow of time will win out." He walked out of the office, leaving one confused and mystified doctor behind. ************ Adam stopped in his office briefly before leaving Sickbay. Checking his terminal, he noted that he had a message waiting for him in his quarters. |Good computer,| he thought. |It knows I spend more time here than I do in my quarters...though I hope that after this mission I can begin to resolve that.| Tapping the terminal off, Adam decided to head to his quarters before rejoining Berak and Alex in Six-Forward. ************ NRPG: Kurt: You might want to write me so that we can discuss a couple things about Aquilla and LuCypher... I have an idea for you.... Jack: Glad you and Connie are back! :) Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Sun, 27 Mar 94 23:58:50 AST From: "Paul A. Canniff" Subject: USS OLYMPIC: SciDept Memo, Chizh to Dwight SD 60327.2000 >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM <<<<<<<<<< TO: LCdr R. Dwight FROM: Lt (jg) A.S. Chizh cc: Science Department, USS Olympic SUBJ: Historiographical Considerations in Spatio-Temporal Interventions wrt the Guardian of Forever ********** In this memorandum I wish to contrast our current dilemma over the Guardian of Forever to the experiences of the USS Enterprise a century earlier. Out of this analysis I will recommend some actions with respect to the preparation of Away Teams through the Guardian. I) Nature of the interventions: The Enterprise's experience with the Guardian was quite accidental. Only two journeys were made: one by the Chief Medical Officer in an unbalanced state, the other by the Captain and Science Officer to resolve the resultant spacio-temporal anomaly. By chance, the Enterprise's landing party isolated the exact window of penetration and the consequent alteration of events to correct the flow of time. Reports indicate that one Romulan use of the Guardian was accidental, but evidence suggests at least several uses and we must assume that these were intentional. No physical record exists detailing Romulan actions and it is unlikely that interrogation of the Romulan prisoners will provide scientifically valid information. As well, any recording devices used by the Romulans [were] apparently destroyed during the assault operation. Without knowing precisely how the Guardian was abused, it will be impossible to implement a corrective plan that preserves our known space-time continuum. I would posit, however, that one being does possess this information: the Guardian itself. We know that [Commodore] Sullivan and Captain DiFalco have been in psychic communication with the Guardian. I suggest we explore some method of establishing direct contact through them. ii) Windows of Intervention The Guardian may inform us of the points at which the Romulans traveled through it. Determining the course of repair to the fabric of space-time will be much more difficult. The Enterprise dealt with a straightforward problem resulting from just one journey. Several journeys now complicate the question of restoring our time-line. I have seen your memo re :cataloguing of temporal disturbances. I would add that we construct a computer model which would correlate those disturbances and the known Romulan interventions, and interpret the results through an historiographical model employing virtual decision-tree analysis. I am fully qualified to perform the latter. Out of this analysis we can arrive at plans-of-action for each Away Team, integrated so as to most likely restore our spatio-temporal fabric. iii) Deterioration of Space-Time: Conflicting Theories In the Enterprise scenario, one action drastically altered the flow of time, restored through the correction of one static time-point. That is consistent with the temporal models of Hawking and S'tak of Vulcan. In our current scenario, we have found a growing number of disturbances over a wide part of Federation space. Elements of the past and present are cascading. This is more consistent with Everett's multiverse interpretation of quantum mechanics. Everett's model allows for the existence of multiple spatio-temporal planes resulting from the actions of any point in any of the planes. It assumes, however, discrete planes. Are we seeing in the cascade a collision of these separate planes? If so, the damage to space-time is cumulative and potentially geometric in scope. Restoration efforts will therefore have to be exactingly thorough. SUMMARY - We cannot repair our space-time without accurate information from the Guardian; - Computer modeling analysis is essential to determine Away Team action plans. Once all necessary information is gathered, I am confident it can be conducted in short order; and - Away Teams must be briefed to ensure full completion of their missions. Partial quick-fixes leave us open to ongoing deterioration of our continuum. ************ Respectfully submitted Paul A. Canniff aka Lt (jg) Alexander S. Chizh TAC/CSO =-=-=-=-=-=- Paul A. Canniff Partner ONA Corporate Research Inc. Tel.: (613) 230-3545 Ottawa, ON CANADA Fax: (613) 722-0025 Date: Sun, 27 Mar 94 00:04:35 AST From: "Paul A. Canniff" Subject: Pls Post my latest emails NRPG: Dear Shipmates: Since my newsreader on NSTN is still a little wonky and will be so for the next day or two, would someone pls post my two latest emails: Chizh at Six-Forward and Chizh's memo to Dwight. Thanks! ttfn =-=-=-=-=-=- Paul A. Canniff Partner ONA Corporate Research Inc. Tel.: (613) 230-3545 Ottawa, ON CANADA Fax: (613) 722-0025 From: Jeffrey Finocchiaro Date: Sun, 27 Mar 1994 23:18:35 -0500 [Subject: Mail-alias] NRPG: Hi, everyone. I am in the process of making up a mail-alias for the crew of Olympic. And...well, I have no idea if this is going to work! So, please bear with me. Counselor Lawrence finoc_j@jhunix.hcf.jhu.edu ps - The reason some of you couldn't get messages to me was that my mailbox was STUFFED! I had overused my disk quota... oh well, that's what I get for going on vacation. Date: Sun, 27 Mar 1994 23:23:15 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Crown's Quarters-->Chizh's Quarters SD: 60327.2225 Adam gave a small sigh when the turbolift deposited him just steps away from his quarters on the Officer's Deck. Stepping out of the lift, he moved to his door. The doors parted to show his quarters...expansive and extremely comfortable-looking. But very, very dull. Adam gave a small smile as he saw his possessions still sitting on the couch in the living room. Grabbing his bags--still packed from when he was at Armstrong Lunar Base of all things--he dumped them on his bed and quickly unpacked, moving clothing to drawers, uniforms to his closet. As Adam opened his closet, he smiled as he saw several copies of his uniform and medical jacket...another gift from Lexia, who had taken it upon herself to make sure her CMO looked the part. |Like I said before, one hell of a lady,| Adam thought to himself, setting his toiletries on his dresser and in his bathroom. |I'll have to surprise her soon with something| Having gotten much of his possessions unpacked, Adam placed a holopicture chip just to the right of his personal terminal and activated the terminal to read the message he knew he had. His eyes widened as he read the coded message from Dr. Samantha Hennessey, an old friend of his sister Tabitha and a new friend of Adam's. He stopped reading for a moment and stared ahead of him, out his quarters' viewports just on the starboard-front side of the Olympic. His hand reached out to turn on the holopicture chip, which flashed and formed the three-dimensional photograph of Tabitha Crown, her auburn hair and green eyes as vivid as if she were really in the room. "What did you do, Tab?" asked Adam to the silent picture of Tabitha Crown, who stared at him with eyes that did not blink, a face that never lost her smiling expression. "Did you accept? Or did you resist?" He moved back to the terminal and read the last part of Samantha Hennessey's message, a small smile crossing his face. "Guess I can't win, can I doctor?" he whispered, pressing a button that would save and encode the message to Adam's personal file. ********** It seemed like an eternity that he had sat there...sitting.... Thinking. It was when he remembered that outburst of Sasha Chizh's that made Adam snap back to the present. He and Berak and Alex had discussed it for a few minutes, then Adam had the call from Dr. V'ann, then the message from Samantha Hennessey... Adam sighed again, more from the sheer novelty of it all. If it wasn't enough to be at odds with Dr. Mohning, now he would have to deal with Lt. Chizh. He decided to talk to Chizh. "Computer--location of Lt. Chizh." the computer replied smoothly. Adam turned off his personal terminal and left his quarters, heading down the curving hall toward Chizh's quarters. ************ Adam pressed the chime button on Chizh's door. The tone sounded. "Come in," replied Chizh, his voice sounding distracted. The door opened. Adam entered. Chizh was busy at his terminal, but looked up when Adam entered. "Doctor," he said, his voice as cold as Arctic ice. Adam smiled pleasantly. "Lt. Chizh, if I could have a word with you? I'd like for us to discuss what you said to me in Six-Forward. You seem to have misinter--" "Misinterpreted what you said?" Chizh interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger. He gave a sharp, short laugh. "And how did I do that, Doctor?" Adam was taken aback for a moment by the officer's attitude, but gave the outward appearance of being unruffled by Chizh's interruption. "Perhaps I'll wait until you are done, Lieutenant," said Adam, his arms behind his back. "You obviously want to say more about this. I'll wait until you've decided to let me speak without interruption." Chizh was silent. What was he supposed to say? Adam raised an eyebrow. "Nothing, Sasha? You're done?" Chizh nodded. "Well," said Adam moving in front of Chizh's desk and sitting down in the chair before it, "as I was saying before your interruption, regarding the comments made in Six-Forward, I think I deserve an apology." Sasha's mouth opened wide, ready to retort. Adam raised a hand. "I thought you were finished, Lieutenant." With a wide-eyed look, Chizh closed his mouth and motioned Adam to continue. "Now, I may not be as skilled in the field of history as you, Sasha--and I know, it's not _just_ 'history,' but for the sake of me trying to say that huge term, I'll sum it up in my simple euphemism--but I _do_ know that while you can map the levels and dimensions and anything else of time, you nonetheless must know the plain and simple facts of _history_, my friend--who did what and when, who lived and who died, and where and when they met their maker." Then Adam leaned forward and looked at Chizh straight in the eye. "I'm not trying to bump you out of your job, Sasha, believe me, but let's get something straight. I'm the CMO, true...but I could easily have been where you are now. I could have been the one who had to determine what's going on down there on Guardian. "But I'm not," said Adam, standing up and with his hands on the desk, leaned in to get close to Chizh's face. "My job here is Chief Medical Officer, and CMO it will stay. And my suggestion to you is that we start to work together on what is happening down there. You, Lexia, Berak, Alex, N'Jira, Jack, Thomas, Goog-- _anyone_ else who this mission depends on--we _all_ have to work together to make sure the flow of time isn't altered forever. "You want to think I'm taking your job? Go ahead and think that. But let me tell you something. I'm not. I was a historian long before I ever decided to become a doctor at the Academy, and I could be of some help to you and this mission...as a doctor, as a friend, _or_ as a historian." Adam moved back and headed for the door. He stopped and turned to Chizh as the doors slid open behind him. "Perhaps when this is all over, Lieutenant, you'll see that the only way to get things done is to work together. If you choose to do it another way, more power to you. I just hope that this arrogant streak of yours doesn't destroy you in the process...or the Olympic." Adam turned and walked out of the door. He never saw the look of anger hit Sasha's face like a tidal wave.... ************ On his way back to Six-Forward, Adam reflected on what he had said to Chizh. He hoped that he hadn't gone too far in his little soliloquy to the young officer. "Live and learn, Crown...you live and learn," he said to himself, entering the turbolift, the doors shutting.... ************ NRPG Paul C.: Is this what you meant by a little conflict? Well, I hope it was because that's pretty damned cathartic to write! :) Did I go too far? I don't think so, though if you'd like to e-mail me about it, feel free. No hard feelings in real life, I hope.... :) Everyone else: Are we having fun yet? :) Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Mon, 28 Mar 1994 18:25:57 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Six-Forward Note: This post takes place BEFORE Adam returns to Sickbay to meet with Counselor Lawrence ************ SD: 60328.1750 Adam returned to Six-Forward, his mind still troubled by his words to Sasha Chizh. |But,| he thought to himself, skirting a table as he entered Six-Forward, |maybe he'll understand what we're up against.| Alex DiFalco and Berak L'Gryphon were still sitting there, talking quietly. Both looked up as Adam sat down again. "Everything alright?" asked Berak, concerned. Adam smiled and explained LuCypher's injury and of Dr. V'ann's concerns, leaving out the mention of Deborah Bates or of Sebastian DiFalco--for the moment. "Good," said Berak. "The way Dr. V'ann made it sound, I thought the lad was dead or dying." Alex had been sitting quietly, but with this break in the conversation, looked at Adam. "There's more, isn't there, Adam?" he said. He knew that something was bothering the CMO, and he didn't think it was anything in Sickbay. Adam sighed. "I went to see Lt. Chizh in his quarters." Berak, his glass raised to his lips, set the drink back on the table and stared at Adam. "And dare we enquire why, Doctor?" "Really, Adam...was that the right thing to do?" asked Alex, shifting in his chair. "You were a bit steamed at him after he left. And then you had to go to Sickbay and deal with an injury...add to all this that you should be getting some rest--not getting into a conflict." Adam tapped his fingers on the table. "Yes, Alex, I was. And I don't know if I did do the right thing, but damn it....Yes, maybe I was out of line for what I said in the Ready Room, but at the time I did what I thought right." He ran a hand through his hair and stared out the window for a moment. Then he spoke again, quietly. "One of my hobbies, my passion, if you will, is history, especially the history of Starfleet and of the Federation. Of course, with my training at the Academy and at ALB, I haven't done any research--books, holovid footage, whatever--lately, but ever since I was little, I loved knowing about the past. "I used to bother my mom endlessly with all the little things I learned. If I hadn't had joined Starfleet...who knows? Maybe I would have been a historian or an archaeologist." He blew an errant strand of hair from his face, then looked at both men, his aqua eyes deepening in color. "I was trying to help Chizh. He knows the dynamics of time--the ebb, the flow. Perhaps he knows the specifics of who did what and when--great if he does. But I merely said to him--both here and in his quarters--that I might be of some assistance. End of story." Adam slid his chair back and stood up. "I need to get to Sickbay now. I have some work to do. Alex, if you could, I'd like you and I to meet in a couple of hours, if that's possible. There's something I need to sit down and show you. Can you do it?" The tone in Adam's voice was somber...and it worried Alex. "I'll have to check, Adam," said DiFalco. "I'll get back to you, OK?" Adam nodded. "If you gentlemen will excuse me." He made his way to the door and walked out. Berak looked at Alex, who looked right back at him. "There was more to it than that, laddie." Alex nodded. "Oh, yes, my friend...much more than our CMO is willing to tell." He took a sip of his drink, and made a note to check his schedule for Dr. Crown. |Is it more about he and Chizh?| he wondered. |Or about some tests? Or....| He stopped and saw the face of Jina Carson in his mind. |Or is it about Jina?| **************** Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Tue, 29 Mar 94 06:50:29 AST From: "Paul A. Canniff" Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Lt. Chizh's Quarters --> Sickbay SD 60209.0320 Chizh completed his memo to [Lt. Cmdr.] Dwight and the notice of his first TAC/CSO staff meeting. As he toggled away from composition mode and sipped his tea, he realized what his next step ought to be. "Computer, Security Chief access Chi 10, Lieutenant Alexander Sergeievich Chizh, open personnel records." "Produce records for Crown, Adam, Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic. Clear file flags." In short order Chizh accessed the comprehensive file on Crown with its Starfleet appraisals and addenda. As he reviewed the data, recent events took on a fuller meaning. "Not a full academic, but certainly not the 'dabbling doctor' he seemed," said Chizh to himself. The key points of the file now in his grasp, Chizh leaned back to reflect. After some minutes, he rose and inquired of the computer, "Computer, location of Doctor Crown." Chizh strolled out of his quarters towards the turbolift. **************************************** The lights were slightly lowered in the Sickbay area as Chizh approached. Entering the main area, he saw several staff quietly attending to patients. In the distance he saw the office of the Chief Medical Officer, with Crown behind his desk, leaning back in his chair staring pensively out the viewport. With a tug at his tunic, Chizh walked over and lightly rapped on the clear partition. "Doctor, may I have a moment?" "Huh?... Lieutenant, what's...", Crown replied. "Forgive my disturbing you, but I must talk with you. Please." "Very well, sit down," said Crown. Taking his seat, Chizh composed himself and said, "Doctor, what's transpired in the short while was wrong, and I note my full share of it. There have been some misperceptions at work. We should put them aside." Crown leaned forward and said, "Now, look, Chizh..." "Please, Doctor... Adam. If the circumstances that brought you here were anything like mine, and clearly they were, I can appreciate how seriously you take what we're going through. On the way to Olympic, I first thought this was a dream assignment. I've come to understand the gravity of our situation. I believe I share some of your concerns, your apprehensions. And I've noted your grasp of the historical field. "When two serious people cross paths, collisions can happen. I think that's been the case here. My reaction to you was uncharacteristic and uncalled for. Coming to know you better, I suspect this was also the same for you. "Our tasks are different but they should... they _must_ complement one another. I hope we can attempt that on better terms." Crown, staring at Chizh, pondered his words. After some moments, he ran his hand through his hair and replied, "Thank you, Lieutenant, I mean, Sasha. I think I understand you better now. Let's just not endure this again." Chizh replied, "Besides, if we did, if I broke a leg or the Romulans had gotten you, where would we be then?", adding a sly grin. Crown rose, returning with a slight smile, and offered his hand to Chizh, "Point well taken!" Rising to accept the handshake, Chizh said, "Thanks, Adam. Now I'll let you back to your thoughts." Turning to depart, Chizh noticed Crown resuming his seat and his study of the viewport. |I feel a burden's been lifted from me. But Adam, I don't know,| he thought as he left the Sickbay to return to his quarters. ************ Respectfully submitted, Paul A. Canniff aka Lt (j.g.) Alexander S. Chizh TAC/CSO NRPG: Matt: A resolution to this episode that I believes covers the essentials and respects the slightly brooding tone of your last post in Six-Forward. Thanks for the exchange of direct emails that clarified your views wrt the earlier episodes. All: Chizh and Dwight have already become familiar with one another. For all the sharp turns in the process, Chizh and Crown are on their way to a positive relationship. Chizh's next episode, after a catnap, will be a TAC/CSO staff meeting, involving essentially some NPC's. Looking forward to more interactions and trusting the "Adam Crown Affair" will be the last of its kind! N.B.: Tech problems mean I am emailing on one system with a wonky newsreader and reading newsgroups on another with a terrible emailing facility. I hope to resolve this by week's end. Would anyone oblige in posting this and following general emails until then? Thanks. =-=-=-=-=-=- Paul A. Canniff Partner ONA Corporate Research Inc. Tel.: (613) 230-3545 Ottawa, ON CANADA Fax: (613) 722-0025 Date: Tue, 29 Mar 94 06:53:06 AST From: "Paul A. Canniff" Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Lt. Chizh's Quarters --> Tactical/Security Wardroom SD 60329.0415 Entering his quarters, Chizh prepared to take some light sleep in preparation for the next shift. "Computer, forward TAC/CSO staff meeting notice to list," said Chizh. >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM <<<<<<<<<< SD 60329.0415 TO: Fire Control Officer and Section Chiefs Security Watch Commander RSM, Special Service Detachment FROM: Lt. (j.g.) Alexander S. Chizh TAC/CSO SUBJ: TAC/CSO Staff Meeting You are requested to report to the Tactical/Security Wardroom at 0830 to consider the following: i) Evaluation of Combat Readiness and Drill Planning ii) Planet-side Defensive Preparation iii) Security Enhancement iv) Away Team Support >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM <<<<<<<<<< Chizh fell asleep quickly, drained from the mission and the celebrations and resting easier that the earlier business seemed resolved. ******************************* SD 60329.0820 Striding into the wardroom, Chizh saw Ensign Largon, now his Fire Control Officer, awaiting him. "Good morning, sir. The others should be here shortly," said Largon. "Thanks. Can I get you something while I'm at it, a tea?" Largon nodded as Chizh went to the replicator. "Two teas in glasses, Karavanserai blend, with honey," he requested. In short order, the remaining staff arrived, greeting their new superior officer, and the meeting commenced. "Computer, record minutes of TAC/CSO staff meeting, SD 60329.0830. Append attendance." The minutes noted the following attendees: Chair: Lt (j.g.) A.S. Chizh TAC/CSO Members: Esn Largon Fire Control Officer Esn Telev Security Watch Commander Esn M Lefebvre Armoury Officer CPO R Evershed Phaser Gunnery Leading Mate CPO W Pristanski Torpedo Leading Mate CWO M Somersby RSM Special Service Detachment "I want to thank you for being here on such short notice. Please bear with me as I've been your TAC/CSO for less than a day. But you can well appreciate that we are by no means finished our tasks, and time is of the essence. "First, I would like a report on the status of weapons and shields. Mister Largon?" "Sir, we have [repaired the damage to the shields endured] during our emergency warp run. All weapons are at ready status to be brought on-line." "Excellent. Your timing is just right, because I intend to see us give them a proper workout. That unmanned warbird will certainly not be the last we see of the Romulans. I believe we still face a clear and present threat of further intrusions during the next mission phase. Therefore, I'll ask you, Mister Largon, and your mates to prepare for full-scale battle drills within the next twelve hours, subject to a final slotting I'll determine with the Captain. "The Romulan threat makes reaction time our priority. We cannot afford any delays in a decloaking scenario. Given that the Romulans have clearly violated Federation General Prohibition P-119 for this sector, our rules of engagement will allow for pre-emptive use of force as required." "Sergeant-Major Somersby, I'd like you to prepare plans for a fixed defensive perimeter around the Guardian. In the event that Olympic fails to halt a Romulan landing, your troopers will be our last card. I want that surface area fully secured. That will mean entrenching and fixing bunkers. I will ask Lieutenant Bleyn to detail engineering personnel to you for sapper duty." "What's the current status of your troopers?" "One platoon and a reserve unit at your disposal, sir, when the moment comes," replied the greying, patrician soldier. "We'll do you as proud as we did old Berak!" "Thank you, Mister Somersby, I'll count on it," Turning to the Andorian who was his Watch Commander, Chizh said, "Mister Telev, I want you to increase postings around the ship. In particular, your security officers are to be ready for any further reports of temporal disturbances or other strange sightings. Your function is solely to report." And to the remaining officer, Chiz said, "Finally, Mister Lefebvre, please be ready to see me presently regarding the preparation and allocation of arms for the Away Teams. I am going to recommend at the senior staff meeting that we keep the armament issue light and that the weapons be fitted with hair-trigger overload switches. Be ready to brief me on the feasibility of the latter. The reason will be clearer after that meeting." "Any questions? Well, before we close, gentlemen, I want to acknowledge the considerable role Lt. L'Gryphon played here before me. I can't hope to fill his shoes but I will offer you my level best. I trust you will do so as well." "Thank you. Dismissed. And have a good rest, all!" Finishing his remaining tea, Chizh returned to his quarters and ordered the computer to put on some appropriate background music: Gorecki's Third Symphony, Third Movement. Lying down to reflect, Chizh pondered the significance of the title, "The Symphony of Sorrowful Songs". Though the music was soothing, he could not ignore its fusion of hope and despondency. It was too right for the times. Respectfully submitted, Paul Canniff/ Lt (j.g.) Alexander S. Chizh TAC/CSO Date: Tue, 29 Mar 94 15:12:54 AST From: "Paul A. Canniff" Subject: USS OLYMPIC: TAC/CSO Memo to XO >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM <<<<<<<<<< SD 60329.0900 TO: CO through XO FROM: TAC/CSO SUBJ: Req for Combat Readiness Drills Clearance This is to req clearance by the Captain to conduct a series of combat readiness drills among Fire Control pers w/in the next 12 hrs. Upon receipt of clearance, only an advisory will be posted to crew. Red alerts will be sounded w/out notice during the ex phase. The purpose of this ex is to evaluate threat detection and weapons truck-out performance in prep for anticipated higher state of readiness. The ex will be by computer simulation. No extraordinary nav maneuvers are planned at this time. Standing ready, aye ready, I remain yours very truly, A.S. Chizh Lt (j.g.) TAC/CSO >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM <<<<<<<<<< =-=-=-=-=-= Paul A. Canniff Partner ONA Corporate Research Inc. Tel.: (613) 230-3545 Ottawa, ON CANADA Fax: (613) 722-0025 Date: Tue, 29 Mar 94 15:15:49 AST From: "Paul A. Canniff" Subject: USS OLYMPIC: TAC/CSO Memo to A/Chief Engr >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM <<<<<<<<<< SD 60329.0905 TO: Lt Bleyn, A/Chief Engr FROM: TAC/CSO SUBJ: Detailing of Engr Pers for Surface Sapper Taskings This is to req temp assignment of an engineering detail to planetside ground defense forces for sapper duties. A more solid perimeter defence of the Guardian site is being planned that will require the fol: i) entrenchments; ii) erection of defillades; and iii) erection of temp perimeter and cmd plasteel bunkers. Pers would be detailed under authority of RSM, Spec Serv Dept. Pls advise as to avail of pers and eqpmnt. Standing ready, aye ready, I remain yours very truly, A.S. Chizh Lt (j.g.) TAC/CSO >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM <<<<<<<<<< [Date: Mon, 28 Mar 1994 19:54:51 -0800 (PST)] [From: Judith B Marko ] [Subject: USS OLYMPIC [Ready Room -->]Contemplation Pool [part 2]] {Editor's Note: This is the continuation of Judi's "split-post".} Now it was time to go to the Pool. Lexia entered, immediately feeling the peace and tranquillity she always felt it here. She must remember to advise her officers that if the pool was vacant, they were all welcome to use it to refresh and regenerate themselves. She first stopped at the replicator on the west wall. " A crystal of pink quartz, four inches in diameter, cut and faceted. Fifty-two facets." In moments, she had the crystal she had asked for. Lexia placed it at the edge of the pool and undressed. She sat at the edge and used the control panels to set the lighting and color of the water to match the pink of the crystal. She set the water temperature at 95 F and the motion of the water to a gentle roll. Then she slipped into the water and began to swim. After five minutes, she felt totally relaxed, and moved to the edge of the pool to lean back on the steps. It was time to begin. Lexia opened her mind and called to Stae-faan LuCypher to let go. Eyes closed, she let his song engulf her until she became one with it. As before, it let her see and feel deeply who she was. More and more she let it [envelop] her, [while still maintaining her individuality--her control.] Amazed, she realized that it was allowing her to learn more of the enhanced metal powers she had acquired as a result of her connection with Robert McCoy. This was a tool, she knew, that properly harnessed, could give all Betazoids a fuller understanding of themselves and their philosophy. Now, fully energized herself, Lexia began to swim again, first on the surface of the water, then beneath it, letting the energy of her body flow into the gently swirling waters. Finally, she took the pink crystal and began to swim with it, her energy and that of the water merging into the crystal. The shape and faceting would pick up the sub harmonic vibrations [of her perceptions], and the crystal would be the tool for the Betazoids to focus on [Stae-faan's maerel] themselves. Once energized, the crystal could be replicated and one placed in the quarters of every Betazoid or other telepath who might make use of it. Back at the side of the pool, Lexia sat and placed her hands around the crystal. She nodded as she felt the vibrations in it. She placed the crystal at her side; it would remain in the pool for a while yet, until she was sure it had captured [her full awareness of] the song. Thoroughly at peace now, Lexia lay back at the edge of the pool. She opened her mind to Alex DiFalco to let him know she was ready to talk whenever he was. She would also need to talk with Adam Crown a little later. There was a lot more she needed to know about him, and she was looking forward to spending some time with him anyway. And hopefully with the other officers, the ones she had not as yet had time to get to know as she would like. She'd definitely need some time with Berak, her new FO, and with Sasha, whom she'd hardly had time to meet. |Ah well,| she thought. |....we'll be together a long time.| And she hoped everyone of them knew that the Captain's office was open to them at any time, as was a table in 6-Forward when time permitted. Captain Lexia Tremaine USS OLYMPIC Date: Tue, 29 Mar 1994 19:35:05 +0500 (EST) From: Lord Admiral Nelson Subject: USS OLYMPIC - Sick bay Stardate: 60329.1700 NRPG: Here's Aquilla's impression of her first encounter with the enigmatic Lt. jg LuCypher. Aquilla watched as Lt. jg LuCypher exited Sick-bay, her mind still quietly awhirl from her brief contact with the new crewman. It was all so unusual, she thought as she sat down at her computer terminal and began entering the treatment data into Stae-faan's medical records. Lexia had informed them of the incidents involving LuCypher and Betazoids, and cautioned that she and her brother Arundel might be sensitive to some degree. Even so, it had not been enough to fully prepare her for the burst of song that had emanated from the injured officer when she invoked her healing talent, nor did she know what to do about the insights she had gained through that contact. "Why, he's human," she whispered, surprised. At least that's what his record stated. If that were so, then he was unlike any human she had ever encountered. "You seem perplexed, sister," came Arundel's gentle voice from behind her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as he spoke. "What, may I ask, is the cause?" She looked back at him and smiled warmly, patting his hand in appreciation of his concern. At once, he sensed that she would prefer to discuss the matter somewhere more private than the main treatment room of Sick-bay. Arundel gave a silent nod of understanding, and waited patiently as she finished the report before walking with her to the privacy of their shared office. "Now tell me, dearest Aquilla," Arundel said. "What is it that has you radiating such a mix of emotions?" "It's that new officer, Lt. LuCypher," she answered, then paused, uncertain how to continue. "Yes, you healed his injury," Arundel noted. "Did you hear the 'music' Lexia cautioned us about?" "Oh yes--yes," she responded. "The music was there, as pure and beautiful as anything I've ever heard. But..." Again, she stopped. "Yes, go on..." "Ar, it's not _just_ music. It...it reaches out--touches everything around him, almost as if it were--" Arundel extended a hand, placing his fingers lightly to her head. It was plain that words were insufficient for Aquilla to describe what she had felt. "Alive," he said after several moments had passed. "That was the word you were looking for. The lieutenant and the song, it's hard to see which is the product of the other." "You understand," she said, "but there's more. When I reached out to heal the injury....I realized--" "--that he could have done so himself," Arundel finished. "He is much like us, is he not? Yet why does he hide this talent?" "I do not know," Aquilla replied softly. "I sensed a purpose to his actions, but--the contact was too brief. Still, I feel there is much more than we yet suspect regarding this man and his song." Arundel contemplated his sister's words. "What do you intend to do?" he asked. "I am not certain," she answered. "Perhaps I will seek him out when my duties permit and see how much he is willing to share." "Did you wish my company at that time, sister?" Arundel asked, and Aquilla could feel the brotherly concern that came with that question. Aquilla smiled. "Thank you, brother, but I sense no danger from this man. He is a healer--and an empath--I would think, as well. Though he is not Aurexian, and the manner in which he manifests his talents is decidedly different than ours, I sense him to be 'kin' nonetheless." "Very well," Arundel acquiesced. "As always, I trust your judgement. Mayhap when your shift is over, you can look for him." "Perhaps," Aquilla murmured. "Perhaps..." Respectfully Submitted, Lt. jg Stae-faan LuCypher USS OLYMPIC Kurt Nelson jknelson@telerama.lm.com NRPG: Well, Matt. The ball is in your court now. Will Aquilla share her insights with Dr. Crown? Lawrence or Lexia may also be people Aquilla might consult. Or maybe she'll just wait a while and observe. I guess _I'll_ just have to wait and find out. :) Hope I got the characters right, Matt. Date: Tue, 29 Mar 1994 19:43:58 +0500 (EST) From: Lord Admiral Nelson Subject: USS OLYMPIC - Arboretum Stardate: 60329.1730 Scene: USS OLYMPIC - Arboretum Stae-faan stood near the portal, gazing quietly at the expanse of stars beyond. Behind him and to either side stood stately palm trees, part of the tropical jungle setting in this area of the Arboretum. It was dark--an imitation of night--the only light coming from the stars and from a few guide-lights along the trail. The air was filled with the recorded night sounds of insect calls. All in all, a very peaceful setting. Stae-faan flexed his arm experimentally, still looking out into the vastness of space. He was once again in perfect health, though the experience of having someone else tend to an injury to himself was a novel one. Doctor Crown had demonstrated a high degree of care and competence in his treatment, and Stae-faan found the man's manner most pleasant. |He came all the way from 6-forward to help me,| Stae-faan mused. |He is a most dedicated officer.| But Dr. Crown was not the only one to have aided him with his injury. There had been that most remarkable nurse, Aquilla. It had been interesting to note her reaction as she put forth her healing energy. The contact had been brief, but he knew that she had heard his 'maerel'. He wondered [what small measure] of its meaning she had been able to interpret from that fleeting touch. Standing alone with these thoughts, Stae-faan suddenly became aware of a "presence" seeking him out. |It's Lexia,| he realized, and he opened himself to that contact. Wordless understanding came to him then--of the crystal, and of her need for him to reach out with his song. He relaxed for a moment, bowing his head, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. A moment later he looked up, his pale-violet eyes burning with power, his song coursing out from him and expanding throughout the vessel. Life. The people here were so alive. As his song filled the ship, he could sense the vitality of those on board--their dedication to their ship--the burning need to explore and discover. He held his song at that level, glad for the opportunity to simply let go. And in one location in particular, he could sense the notes of his silent symphony [awakening a new realization--his 'maerel' guiding those insights and perceptions as they melded] with a crystal of purest quartz. |She is like Tem,| he thought. Tem whose talent was to combine. Tem who had helped to forge his sword, Moradrim, so that it would hold his song. Long moments passed as Stae-faan put forth his song, until at last, he sensed that Lexia had achieved her goal. Sighing deeply, he released his power, the light fading from his eyes. The contact was broken now, but the old memories which Lexia had stirred still remained. |Tem, my old friend,| Stae-faan said to himself. |If only you had not fallen into shadow. If only...| He brushed the thought aside. That part of his life was long behind him now. No amount of reflection could change what he had been compelled to do. His duties now were to the Olympic and the integrity of _this_ reality. Stae-faan gave one last glance out the viewport before turning to leave the Arboretum. He would make arrangements for a staff meeting tomorrow, then get some rest. There were many people making preparations for the next phase of this mission, and he wanted to be certain that whatever resources they needed, they would have. With Stae-faan's departure, the Tropical area of the Arboretum fell silent. It would not be until [quite some time later] that someone would discover that every flowering plant in that section had come to full-bloom overnight. Respectfully submitted, Lt. jg Stae-faan LuCypher USS OLYMPIC Kurt Nelson jknelson@telerama.lm.com Date: Tue, 29 Mar 1994 19:20:56 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Sickbay SD: 60329.1843 Adam sat back again in his chair as Chizh departed from his office. He stared out his viewport into the black depths of space as the Olympic circled the Planet of the Guardian...again and again.... He had been surprised by the lieutenant's appearance at his office door, but the words which Sasha had used were not harsh or bitter. |Nor should they have been,| Adam thought as he broke his gaze from the velvety blackness of space and tapped his terminal on. |We had a misunderstanding, and now it's been resolved...kind of.| Adam checked a few more cases, gently humming a tune to himself unconsciously. He gave a start for a moment as he realized what he was humming, then gave a wistful smile and addressed the computer. "Computer, music please--Dion, Celine; album, The Color of My Love; song order, random." He hoped that somehow the computer would know which song to play. "Love...doesn't ask why.... It's straight from the heart...." Adam gave a small chuckle. Just the song he had wanted! He wondered if the computer read minds, then decided that if it did, he'd be thinking only good thoughts the next time one of Sickbay's computers went on the fritz. "Then again, I'm not back at Starfleet Medical," he said, smiling to himself. "Lexia got the best for me...in technology, in personnel," he smiled to himself as he saw Arundel pass by and give him a gentle nod, "and in her love and support." He wondered why he was feeling so wistful...so introspective tonight. Was it because he finally had some time to think? His hand went to his collar, touching the new pip so gently...as if it would disappear into mist if he felt too hard. His eyes misted momentarily as the music swelled to a high point: "Love...never asks you 'why?'...." It was the most beautiful song he had ever heard...on Earth, that is. |And she was Tab's idol when we were younger,| Adam thought. |She used to lipsynch to Celine's music when she thought she was alone, and I remember catching her in the act....| Adam stopped a moment to activate the holopicture chip on his desk, Tabitha Crown's image appearing in miniature on his desk. "See, Tab?" said Adam, touching his new pip on his collar. "I got it...I'm your equal now...or I was...." He stopped slowly, remembering those fateful words from Dr. Switzer.... "...She was wearing Command Red, and Lt. Commander's pips, Adam...I'm sure of it...." "So where are you, Tabitha?" demanded Adam, getting up from his chair and moving to the viewport, his hands in fists against the glass, staring...out there. "Where?...and why?" Hot tears pricked his eyelids, brimming. But Adam refused to let them fall, as the song finished up, the young doctor at the window...wondering and watching.... "Love...never asks why...." ******************************* NRPG-- Somber stuff, I know, but it's finally hit Adam that he's got the same rank that his sister did...and all the mysteries surrounding Tabitha Crown are deepening in his mind. Plus...let's be honest here--Adam should be a walking zombie by now (have I written him in his quarters sleeping *yet*? I didn't think so!)...chalk that up to Adam wanting everything in order in Sickbay before Part Two of the mission.... And no, to those of you wondering, I'm not having a bad week--my dog didn't die or anything like that. I'm just showing another side to Adam...the lost young man who would just like to know the fate of someone he loves very, very much. (Not to mention finally fulfill the promise to his parents of finding Tabitha!) Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Tue, 29 Mar 94 21:00:53 MET DST From: Armin Lenz Subject: USS NOVA SCENE: USS OLYMPIC Main Shuttle Bay SD 60329.1123 DiFalco left his luggage in the FO's quarters. Berak was in no real hurry to move over, trying to dig through the work Calvin had left for him and suffering from a little headache. Somehow McGoogan's booze was closer to real than the New Aberdeener had been aware of. Calvin smiled to himself. After that infamous hangover he had when finishing the Academy, he was more careful with the real stuff. He wore the same uniform he used when he was the FO on this ship, only the four pips he had on his collar were new. After the talk he had with Lexi he felt much better and way more comfortable with the prospect to have his own command. The conversation he'd have with Jina this afternoon would be the pivotal encounter in this matter. He looked forward to it with hope. Maybe he could pay back some of his debts. However, which way things turned out with the young Lieutenant, he was sure she would be fine given some time. The door to the shuttle bay whooshed open in front of him. With a faint smile he saw that he was the last. Even N'Jira had made it in time and to his real surprise her hair was dry. His smile broadened. He was well aware of the small hard case in his pocket when he greeted them. "Lady, Gentlemen! I understand you are ready to transfer to the Nova. Lexia wanted to wave [goodbye to you], but I decided against it. Instead we will leave without grand style and have a small informal party aboard the Nova once we get things running over there. I think this fits the environment of friendship we encountered here much more. Now let's get aboard and moving!" They mounted the shuttle. "Anyone qualified to fly this thing beside me? Paul?", he asked. The Lieutenant nodded, taking the pilot's seat. Without further hesitation, they cleared their departure and moved away from the Olympic, setting course to the elegant starship nearby. N'Jira took place next to Paul after she realized the Captain preferred standing on the back wall of the cockpit, enjoying the sight of his new ship. McGoogan occupied the doorway. "Take us around her once, Paul," N'Jira suggested, smiling over her shoulder at her Captain [who] wasn't really aware of his surroundings. Paul moved closer, through a wide, slow arc around the saucer section. "She's in good shape", McGoogan said. "Mhhhh", DiFalco said, his eyes following the writing on the hull - USS NOVA. His ship. He was much more comfortable with his command now. Little did he know about the short talk Lt. Klaen had with Lexia Tremaine and the slight manipulation she had arranged. They made their way around the port warp nacelle and slowly approached the Nova's shuttle bay. NRPG - Bios, folks ! I want them, you want them, everyone wants them ! I will have to talk to all of you on the bridge later, regarding postings and maybe promotions. Date: Wed, 30 Mar 1994 14:56:06 -0800 (PST) From: Luke Vaughn Subject: USS Olympic -- CEOs Office NRPG: I'm back, and rather then trying to pick up things that happened a few days ago, Im going to start the morning after the staff meeting. LMV/Bleyn ------- SD 60329.0745 Having left the party following the staff meeting early the night before, [after] claiming a bit of tiredness following the rough away mission, Bleyn was slightly early for his duty shift the next morning. Proceeding into what was basically his office now, he proceeded to check the status reports and messages for him. Seeing nothing important that he had to deal with, Bleyn checked the schedule of regular maintenance for the week. Marking the top three items as in progress, he left the office for the morning. At noon, having completed his tasks for the morning, Bleyn went back to his office to do some paperwork for a while. After taking care of several routine items he read the memo from Lt. Chizh. >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM <<<<<<<<<< SD 60329.0905 TO: Lt Bleyn, A/Chief Engr FROM: TAC/CSO SUBJ: Detailing of Engr Pers for Surface Sapper Taskings This is to req temp assignment of an engineering detail to planetside ground defense forces for sapper duties. A more solid perimeter defense of the Guardian site is being planned that will require the fol: I) entrenchments; ii) erection of defillades; and iii) erection of temp perimeter and cmd plasteel bunkers. Pers would be detailed under authority of RSM, Spec Serv Dept.. Pls advise as to avail of pers and eqpmnt. Standing ready, aye ready, I remain yours very truly, A.S. Chizh Lt (j.g.) TAC/CSO >>>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM<<<<<<<<<<< Musing that most of his staff would think the assignment a bit odd and wishing he could take it himself, Bleyn started a search of personnel records and equipment inventories to see what he had available for the job. Skimming the results of the search, Bleyn decided that he would be able to assign sufficient personnel and equipment for the adequate completion of the task. After reviewing the lists fully, Bleyn choose the detail for the job, and the equipment that he felt would be needed for the task, marking extra equipment that the team would have available if needed also. Sending the orders to the team members to prepare for the job, and routing the request that the needed equipment and supplies be drawn to the Ships Stores, Bleyn composed the memo to Lt. Chizh. >>>>>>>>>MEMORANDUM<<<<<<<<<< SD 60329.1211 TO: Lt. (jg) Chizh, TAC/CSO FROM: Lt. Bleyn, CEO RE: Request for planetside engineering detail CC: Cmdr. Berak, XO, Lt. J'Glann, Head of Archeology, Lt. Yance, Head of Geology Regarding the request for a planetside detail to put up earthworks for planetary base security, I have reviewed the request and finding adequate personnel and equipment, approved it pending final approval of First Officer Berak, with the following recommendations. Knowing full well the archeological significance of the site in question, and the destructive nature of the work requested, I would appreciate if a staff Archeologist could be assigned to the crew in order to make recommendations, surveys, and any work that might be necessary to the preservation of the artifacts at the site. Also, I would recommend that a staff geologist be assigned to the team to aid in the work, as I learned that the rock strata and soil structure of the site has some unusual properties, during my brief time on the planet. I understand that such additions to the team may slow the work, however it is my view that they will add in insuring that the site is disturbed as little as possible, and the disturbance will be as efficient as can be made. My final recommendation is that the team assigned be quartered on the surface until the work is completed in order to reduce the amount of ship to surface traffic, and speed the work. Attached is the list of personnel and equipment I have assigned. Respectfully, Lt. Bleyn CEO, USS. Olympic Attch: Personnel list Equipment list Personnel Assigned Planetside Detail Lt. Irving Lt. (jg) Thalher Ensign Rqi-Froz Ensign Stovak Senior Chief Hilar ENG Spec/4 >>>>>>>>>>[End] MEMORANDUM<<<<<<<<<< After sending the memo on its way, Bleyn moved to the next item in his mailbox. Several minutes later, Lt. Irving barged into his office. Unlinking himself from the computer, Bleyn turned to Irving. "Is there some problem, Lt.?" "I wanna know why I was put on ditch digging' duty-- under a Marine non-com at that!" fumed Lt. Irving. Shifting around to a more comfortable position, and sighing to himself, Bleyn explained. "I assigned you because you are one of the most senior members of my staff. I also noted that you already have experience in construction work. That is why I assigned you as engineering head of the detail..." "Then why do I have to answer to a Marine!" interrupted Irving. "Because it is at Security's request that we do this work, and since they are the ones who are going to have to rely on those earthworks for the duration they have every right to choose the person in charge of the project," responded Bleyn, increasing the volume on his voder to be heard. Lt. Irving spluttered, and turned slightly red. "Now, I would recommend that you finish the work you already have in progress, assemble your team, and start preparing your equipment." Looking even more red, Irving responded, "Sir, Lt. Irving requesting transfer to another ship, Sir!" Bleyn sighed audible, "You can file the request if you like, but I will tell you now that I will forward it to Cmdr.. Berak with my recommendation that it be turned down, and even if it is accepted it would not be effective until after this mission is over, and I will not remove you from the planetside detail." Lt. Irving nodded sourly, "Sir, yes, Sir." Turning back to his terminal, Bleyn ordered, "Dismissed Lieutenant--oh and I would recommend that while you are on the planet you adjust your attitude, or I will be forced to put [an] official notice in your permanent record." Without a word, Lt. Irving left the office and Bleyn linked into the computer again to finish his paperwork so he could spend a few hours helping the crew get ahead on the maintenance schedule. ---- Siliconly Submitted SD 60330.1755 Lt. Bleyn Luke Vaughn vaughnl@ucs.orst.edu Date: Wed, 30 Mar 1994 21:08:38 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Crown's Quarters SD: 60330.2042 The doors to Dr. Adam Crown's quarters slid open gently as the CMO of the USS Olympic walked in, setting his PADD down on the table near the doors. As the doors quietly slid shut, Adam ordered the computer to lower the lights and play some soft music; an instrumental. He knew if he asked the computer to play a random selection from his personal collection, he might very well get a song which would just remind him...again and again.... He went into his bedroom and stripped off his uniform, tossing the sapphire and black outfit into the laundry chute. His medical jacket he draped over a chair, as he padded into the bathroom and started the shower. As he stood in the shower, feeling the hydrosonics rushing over him, Adam reflected on the day, trying not to feel sad. |You were promoted,| he thought, running his hands through his hair, trying to shake out the fatigue as the hydrosonics pounded into his neck, sending a spreading feeling of warmth through his body. His shower done, Adam put on some sweatpants and walked back into the living room, picking up the PADD by the door. He still had some last-minute things to do before retiring for a while. Glancing at the PADD, then setting it aside, he addressed the computer. "Computer, location of Captain DiFalco" "Damn," muttered Adam. Adam smiled wryly. "Gee, thanks," he said to the computer's surprise addendum to his inquiry. "Send a message to Captain DiFalco of the USS Nova--'Dr. Adam Crown needs to speak with you ASAP regarding information discovered from Planet of Guardian This is priority, Captain.' End message, computer." "Well then," said Adam, standing up and tossing the PADD back on the table by the door, stretching so that every muscle in his chest was taut, "Set alarm for 0630 hours, and please reserve a holodeck for me at 0640 hours, program 'AdCrown:workout-1' to be loaded and active by my arrival." replied the computer, in its smooth, pleasant tone. Adam smiled to himself, walking to his bed and turning down the covers. As he got in, he pressed the button on his headboard to slide the blinds from the small viewports behind his bed, exposing the limitless expanse of stars to Adam. "Lights out," ordered Adam. The lights went out, and Dr. Adam Crown got some sleep...well-deserved sleep.... ********** Armin--Adam's been trying to get Alex alone so that he can break the news to him about Sebastian...question is, do you want to do it, or shall I? Oh, well...we'll see, now won't we? :) Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu [From: fino_j@jhunix.hcf.jhu.edu (Jeff Finocchiaro)] Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Counselor's Office Date: 29 Mar 1994 01:09:32 -0500 Lawrence, after having discussed Lt. Carson's status with the Captain and Dr. Crown decided to begin the most crucial part of her recovery process: one-on-one conversations. Lawrence hardly had time to straighten out his office. He had been on board only a few days, but made the office a #1 priority. Proper, neat, tidy Lawrence would not have anyone enter a messy work area. Lt. Carson sat on a comfortable chair across from the counselor. The desk was off in the back of the room. To avoid a clinical setting, Lawrence kept all papers and books out of view - HE hated being in Counselors' offices, so whatever could be done to make the situation as pleasant as possible -would- be done. "Lieutenant..may I call you Jina?" The young woman nodded timidly. "Jina, I reviewed the reports concerning the Guardian of Forever." Lawrence paused for a moment. He would have to be careful - providing the wrong impression here could destroy what he had been trying to build up - her confidence and trust. Better not jump to any definitive statements yet. "I also looked at your file. You have an impressive record. I don't think I've seen a human IQ as high as yours in all of my studies. You are talented, a top officer. But... you don't believe it, do you?" Lawrence emphasized the last syllables and looked into Jina's eyes. "Or do you?", Lawrence continued. Jina sat quietly, listening as Lawrence went on. "I have an experience I would like to share with you. I haven't even called home about this. It happened a while ago, about 4 years ago, but it changed my life. In the academy, I trained in both medicine and psychology. One day, a hot spring day, I was in the xenobiology lab working on some cadavers for a xenoanatomy class. I had been in there for hours, carefully excising organs, labeling them, and storing them meticulously. I continued working along when someone burst through the doors. A technician in the nearby bio-robotics facility had been severely shocked by a faulty electrical conduit. He was barely breathing, his flesh stunk of electrical burns. And I was the only person in the room - a little freshman at the academy, fresh out of a comfy life in a British castle. I was damn scared. I knew basic skills, and had spent some time with a cousin who was also a doctor before enrolling in the academy. But I was no doctor. I could label organs like a pro, but..this man needed serious care, and fast. But if I waited for a properly trained doctor to arrive, the man might not live, as the Xenobiology lab was on the far side of campus - .3 km from the main buildings. I looked down and knew I had to make a decision, and I couldn't be afraid of making a mistake. I would call a doctor, but I would begin the emergency treatment, administer medication, and use whatever tools were in the lab to save this man. However, all of the devices were currently configured for Andorian anatomy...reprogramming the machines would take valuable time; I would have to compensate by memory. Hopefully the doctor on call would arrive soon. I hoisted him up on the table, and grabbed a first aid kit, and began mouth to mouth resuscitation. Then I took the cellular repair modules and started passing the scanner over him. " Lawrence paused a minute and swallowed. "What happened?" queried Jina. "His injuries were too severe. He died. A doctor beamed in about 30 seconds later, but he was gone. After that, I was virtually ready to leave Starfleet, forget this damn science, and return back home to Britain defeated. My father had strongly objected to my entering the academy and had virtually disowned me...it would be hard. But the pain I felt...especially the doubt that lurked in my mind... Did _I_ kill him? Did _I_ make a mistake, improperly compensate for the alien physiology and burst his cells instead of mending them? The SF medical examiner concluded that my compensations were highly accurate and I did nothing wrong. They told me that the man would have died anyway, and had I waited for a fully trained, fully equipped doctor to arrive, the man would have died anyway. But dammit, it wasn't good enough. _I_ was responsible for this man's death, and I refused to forgive myself. I kept telling myself I panicked, or I blanked. And I was packing my bags to go home when someone came to my door." Jina looked up, her eyes asking 'Who?'. "It was a friend of the technician. I apologized to him and explained that I was leaving the Academy. He then told me something I will never forget: 'Mister, get your sorry ass away from those bags! Don't wrap yourself in self pity, but accept that you did what you could do. You had NO choice but to help him. Had you simply waited, my friend would have been dead, and you would have cost him his life as a result of your indecision. But you _did_ something..you acted. And you gave him a chance. And for that, I thank you. If you throw away your career for this, you will have made a serious mistake.' I was shocked, but gradually I accepted what he told me. In no way did I respond in a matter of minutes..it took quite a while to realize that I had not failed." Lawrence stopped again and looked at Jina. He had gotten through to her..even if only an iota. "Jina, you did not fail either. You acted. Jumping into the Guardian was the ONLY option you had. If you waited around for someone else to do something, we probably would have had a memorial ceremony for you. Everyone fears making mistakes. But the worst thing one can do is to idly stand by and WATCH, letting the fear PARALYZE them. You were not paralyzed by your fear. You _acted_. Wear out, Jina, don't rust out. Remember, if you don't take a chance, you will never be right." Lawrence walked over to Lt. Carson. "You're the first person I've shared that story with. I hope it can give you some comfort." Lt. Carson sat and nodded. Lawrence felt that the first critical steps on her road to recovery had begun. Date: Thu, 31 Mar 1994 16:15:00 -0600 (CST) From: MATTHEW@KUHUB.CC.UKANS.EDU Subject: USS OLYMPIC: Crown goes many places.... SD: 60331.1524 spoke the computer's voice in its gentle, feminine tones, over and over again until Adam stirred from his sleep. "What?" he mumbled incoherently, until his eyes opened slightly, the weight of sleep still hanging on them. He looked over at the clock at his bedside, and his eyes opened wide. "Computer," he said in a husky, sleep-thickened voice. "Why was I awakened at this ungodly hour?" "Never mind," muttered Adam, sliding from underneath the warm covers, "I'm up, I'm up!" He padded into his bathroom, and into another day aboard the Olympic. ***** Minutes later, Adam was standing in front of Holodeck 3, dressed in his exercise outfit. "Computer, has program 'AdCrown:workout-1' been installed?" he asked. "Open doors." The steel doors of the holodeck parted in front of Adam, exposing a beautiful rolling meadow that stretched for miles. As Adam stepped in, the doors closed and vanished, the meadow now appearing behind him as well. Adam took a deep breath, smelling the clean, fresh air of Illinois again. The meadow he stood in was part of the sprawling grounds of Ransomvale Academy, the school that Adam had attended before Dr. Phillip Crown had moved the family to the Sahara Desert for his Sahara Green Project. Adam looked to the left to see the gigantic mansion that was the heart of his old school, far off in the distance. With a smile on his face, Adam began a gentle jog toward the old building, picking up speed as he got closer and closer. Adam was now in a dead run as he made it to the service road that ran alongside and to the back of the old Ransom Mansion, finally coming to a swift stop at the back patio, his heart pounding, sweat pouring down his face. He sighed with contentment as he stared at the old mansion's classic early 20th Century architecture, slowly walking around the patio to get his heart rate down to normal again. Adam saw the door that would have led into the mansion's kitchen, but remembered that he hadn't programmed his exercise program to possess the blueprints of the mansion's interior. He wondered what the computer might do if he tried to enter. "Bet you'd think of something good," he muttered to himself, hands on his hips. "What would it be? Vulcan room design? Romulan spartan quarters? A model of Six-Forward?" He laughed at the last one. Adam walked up to the door and tried to open it. It was locked. Adam chuckled. "Clever!" he fairly yelled at the computer. "You're not going to take the risk that you're wrong, are you? Better safe than sorry, I suppose." He turned from the door and looked back at the hill that he had entered the Holodeck on. "Computer, what time is it?" spoke the computer. Adam nodded. "Arch, please," he said. The holodeck's arch appeared, the doors materializing just beyond it. Adam tapped a button on the arch's control panel. "Save it, please." he said, more out of habit than anything else. Then, turning to the doors, he walked out of Holodeck 3. ********** Adam took a shower and got dressed in his sapphire uniform, slipping into another one of his medical jackets. Grabbing his medical tricorder from his other jacket--the dirty one, he realized-- and tossing the jacket in the laundry chute, he walked out of his quarters, retrieving the PADD from the table beside his front doors. Adam walked to the nearest turbolift and got in. He decided to stop for a moment in the ship's gardens and ordered the turbolift to take him there. Minutes later, he was at the doors to the gardens. He couldn't believe his eyes. Every flower in the [tropical area of the] garden was in full bloom! He walked in and looked around at the profusion of colors and scents. Plumeria, [tropical orchids], N'klatan spice...all were in bloom. Adam was no botanist, though his mother had given him an appreciation for flowers. How were all these flowers able to bloom at the same time? "Another mystery for another time," he said to himself, passing through the garden one last time. "Now, on to Sickbay." The turbolift was waiting, and Adam got in and headed for his office. He decided to get some work done before the trip to visit with the Guardian of Forever. |And perhaps a little exploration of my own,| thought Adam to himself as he entered Sickbay. |Like the archaeologists....| ********** NRPG Judi: That was fun talking to you last night! I'm still working on my IRC connection...more news later! (and yes, this means I can talk to you too, Armin...watch out! :) ) Lt. Adam Crown Chief Medical Officer, USS Olympic -- Matt Hydeman Matthew@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu Date: Thu, 31 Mar 1994 16:42:13 -0800 (PST) From: Judith B Marko Subject: USS OLYMPIC Contemplation Pool Lexia was relaxing at the pool's edge, exhausted from the work she had done with the crystal and Stae-faan's song but satisfied with what, with his help, she had produced. She made a note to speak with Arundel and Aquilla about their contact with Stae-faan. She wanted to check on them anyway. She sensed they were happy here, but it had been too long since she had talked personally with them and she felt responsible for bringing them to the Olympic. There was still so much she needed to learn about all of them, Stae-faan, Adam, Sasha, Thomas. Her mind, always open to contact, had picked up on many underlying currents in all of them. Her ethics would permit her to pry no further unasked as long as she sensed no danger to her ship or crew. And all she sense at present was loyalty and dedication. Time and trust would bring them all closer. She could feel the relationships growing among her senior staff and was pleased. She must make a note to talk soon with Berak, her new First Officer, though she was certain that he would not fail to remind her if she put it off longer than he felt acceptable. They were all busy getting ready for the next part of the mission. Sasha Chizh was working at feverish pace, planning drills for his Security Department and co-coordinating with Science and Engineering in preparation for their work, using his knowledge as a historian to help. And the away team that Jack had set up for the morning would hopefully give them more information to work with. Lexia tapped the comm panel at pool's edge. "Lt. Chizh, you have clearance for your combat readiness drills. I do not anticipate many problems in that regard during this part of the mission, but you are correct. We must be prepared. That cloaked Romulan Warbird is still around and we must always expect the unexpected. Proceed at will." "Aye, Captain," came the response from the Chief of TAC/SEC. Security will be ready for anything. You have my word." "I'm certain of it, Lt. Tremaine out." Once again, she tapped the panel. "Lt. Bleyn, this is the captain. You have approval on the planetside work detail you have selected." Bleyn's mind was always open to Lexia and she was aware of his dissatisfied subordinate, Lt. Irving. "You seem to be handling Lt. Irving with no problem, Bleyn. Would you like me to intervene and set him straight?" "I believe you can also, Lt. Keep up the good work. Tremaine out." Moments later, Alex DiFalco joined her in the pool. Lexi was aware of his initial discomfort with undressing completely in front of her, but she said nothing, knowing he would soon feel more at ease. She watched him swim, long, smooth, grace strokes, much like her own. He soon joined her at pool's edge and began to talk about his concerns over his captaincy. What a familiar note it struck. She had helped Jack Sullivan through his own similar doubts; Jack had helped her. Any captain worthy of the post had them as he perceived the enormity of the responsibility. "I expect you to ease my mind, my friend," he said. "I only beg one favor of you; be there when I get doubts." "Silly boy," she said, extending a hand to touch his cheek, "of course I will." Lexia then touched Alex's mind with her own. She let him see all of her own uncertainties of her ability to command, how long she had refused Admiral Jack's requests that she take a captaincy. The feelings were more easily comprehended this way, without words. When she ended the contact, he took her hand from his face and moved closer to her. Then he kissed her full on the lips. "What was that for, Alex?" she whispered, a faint smile around the edges of her mouth. "That was for me," he said. "Something I've longed for since I met you first on ALB. But this one is for you." He moved closer again, this time closing his eyes, kissing her softly, tenderly. Lexia returned his kiss. He was wrong about only one thing. It was not for her...it was for both of them. The physicalness of it felt right....a further sealing of the bond between them. This joining only confirmed for them that each would always be there for the other when needed. Lexia settled herself comfortably in his arms, letting the waters wash over them; the sense of touch had been added to the connection between them and it was a good addition. Lexia knew she still had work to do, the crystals to replicate and so many to talk with. They would have to leave soon; Alex had to go to the Nova and she'd was sorry to see him go, but he'd make a great captain, and soon he would know it. Suddenly, Lexia's body stiffened a bit. She'd just remembered something left undone. "What is it, Lexi? What's wrong?" Alex was worried for a moment, wondering if he'd gone too far with her, but knowing deep inside himself that he hadn't. But something was wrong. Lexia looked up at him. She knew that she was probably the best person to break this to him. "Alex, there is something I have to tell you. It will most assuredly be somewhat of a shock for you, but know that I'm here to help in whatever way I can." "Lexi, please, this sounds serious. Just tell me." "Alex, we don't know why this happened, but it seems the Guardian of Forever, in gratitude for what we are doing and with the understanding it seemed to get from its contact with you, has brought back two people long dead. They are alive and on board the Olympic right now. One of them is Debbie Bates, Jack Sullivan's former fiancee who was killed at Wolf 359." "My God, Lexi! This is unbelievable. How is Jack handling it? How is Debbie handling it?" "With difficulty, Alex, needless to say. But, I've not finished." Lexia took his hands in hers and held them tightly. She never took her eyes from his as she spoke her next words. "The other one, Alex, appears to be your father, Sebastian DiFalco. He seems to be quite healthy and adjusting well. Adam can tell you where to find him." Alex just stared at her. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. Lexia pulled him close to her and held him tightly. She didn't touch his mind. He would speak to her when he was ready. Captain Lexia Tremaine USS OLYMPIC NELSON'S LAW: Even if _nothing_ can go wrong---something will go wrong.