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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/5/2006 12:45:56 AM
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rcudawg
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Markov stood in the middle of the landing bay, just staring at the door that Captian Nemo had left.... Several minutes ago. Still, very much surprised.... Me? Working as an commanding officer? Was he dreaming?!
Shaking his head, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and lets it out, slowly... Making a lite, purring sound.
To himself, God... I don't get it.... Shaking his head slowly, again, he claps his hands behind him. Half sighing, half purring, he turns back to the plans and starts contemplating the plans. Yes, making two different planes, one specializing in fighter to fighter combat and one made for attacking large ships would definitely make things easier. And, for the "fighter bomber," the A-10 Warthog would definitely be a great choice. Heavily armored, missles on the wings, gatlin cannon under the nose... Slow but extremely tough and very, very deadly.
Scratching his slightly furry chin with his finger tips, he continues to contempate the situation. Very difficult putting all of the weapontry onto a ship, with all of them available for use, and have it flyable in space and in an atmosphere. The former was easy, since there was practically no resistance in space. The Borg cube ships showed just how true that was. But, in the atmosphere, this designed was proving to be a real... Drag??
Sighing deeply, with it sounding more like a growl than a purr, Markov closed his eyes again, and just shook his head. This was not going to be real easy, and not a 'punny' matter... Groans again!
Aloud: God, rrrgghh I don't believe this. I'm bustinnnnggg my brrgghhain trying to think of a desigggnnnrrr, but all I can thinnnnccchh of are bad puns! Resting his hands on the console infront of him, Markov closes his eyes tight.
In his heart, Markov feels:You do not receive, because you do not ask. For, it is written in My Word, ask and you shall receive. Is it not?
Half groaning and half growling, Markov opens his eyes and looks at the ceiling...Lorrrgggghhhd?! What do I ask forrrggh?
Silence.... Should he have expected an immediate answer? Shaking his head, he suddenly feel very, very tired. So much has happened today.... Having a long shift, that situation with Lt. Green.. Clare... And then... Then this....
Turning his console off, Markov walks out of the landing bay and starts towards his room. After a few moments, he realizes that he is about to pass the holodeck that he had followed Clare onto... Clare? What was he thinking of her, especially by her first name?!
Shaking his head and half sighing and half purring, and getting some odd stares from the few peopel who were passing him by, Markov says to himself: Well.... I probably do owe her an appology for following her and then walking out on her...
Markov touches the door button, and the doors slide open, revealing a wooded mountain side very much like his own favorite program. Checking the data pad on the wall, he sees that it is something that Clare... No... Lt. Green.... Created... Created recently, too?
Odd.... Markov thinks to himself as he steps into the holo deck. After the door closes behind him, he takes in a deep breath, easily catching Claa.... Lt. Greens scent. Shifting his ears for a few seconds, while turning his head slighly and testing the breeze, Markov starts walking in her general direction. For several minutes Markov walks to where he knows the young Lietenent is at. But, he doesn't see her, just her boots...
Hello, Markov..... Came a soft voice above him. Half groaning and half growling, Markov looks up to see Green sitting on a branc just a few feet above him. Realizing he had been so preoccupied with looking for her sitting on the ground, he totally missed looking for her in the trees.
You know... I still am not used to your purring, growling, and all that... There was definitely more than just a hint of sadness in her voice. Her cheeks are were still quite damp from her tears. But, no anger was in her voice. At least she wasn't angry with him walking up on her....
Ahhh... Aren't you going to say anything to me? I, ahhhh...... Oh, forget it.... She almost spat the last few words out of her mouth, shut her eyes tight, very quickly, and then turned her back to him. To his mild surprise, she didn't even have to grab the branch or tree truck to keep her balance. Inpressive..... Sighing/purring, Markov sqatted down and then lept onto a near-by branch. He landed with hardly a sound. At first, all is quiet. But, then he hears a muffled sob.
Markov.... She needs prayer... Comfort and prayer...
Feeling very dumbfounded, Markov just sat on the branch near Clare, not knowing what to say... What to do.... Several minutes pass... Feeling like an eternity to him....
_____________________________
Everybody dies. Not everyone really lives. Braveheart
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/7/2006 4:14:01 AM
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Mrs.Above_All
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Entering the bridge and his ready room, Nemo sighs in his comfortable chair. He swivels towards the the window and gathers his thoughts for a moment. Taps his communicator...
Nemo: Nemo to Choy.
Choy: Captain?
Captain: Will you come to my ready room please?
Choy: I'm on my way captain.
As he waits he thinks about his daughter. Even after 10 hours of time alone, he is fighting back tears. He knows she is safe now but the thought of losing her is almost too much to bear. He regains his composure and stands, pacing across his ready room. His door chimes and Kanani is let in.
Choy: Captain, good to see you out and about again. Are you ok?
Nemo: Yes, I'm fine. Well enough I think to get back to work.
Choy: Smiling with her eyes I'm glad
Nemo: Still standing and pacing a bit Thank you. Thank you for what you did. I really needed time to reflect.
Choy: I completely understand Adam. I know what it's like.
Nemo: Yes. Yes you do. Stops and faces her All the more why I deeply respect your decision to serve again. I can't imagine the strength it took for you Kanani. Breathes deeply and closes his eyes. And I may take your advice and talk to Counselor Troi one day.
Choy: It certainly wouldn't hurt Adam. I'm glad that you are open to that.
Nemo: Yes... Well, how have things been going?
Choy: Fine. Commander Shell, Lt. Roc and I have continued reviewing your files. We will be ready for a report soon.
Nemo: Excellent.
Choy: You know Adam, I wanted to do what I could to prevent any more sabotouge and I... I suggested to Commander Shell that we do a code blue for the entire crew.
Nemo: Oh? And?
Choy: Well, we talked about it some more and Commander Shell didn't want to issue an order without your permission. Adam, I was conflicted. While a code blue for the entire crew would have been the right decision, I couldn't help but remember that I made a promise to you that I would finish your special project. I'm sorry.
Nemo: It's ok Kanani. I put you in an awkward situation. I made you promise, you promised that you would prevent anymore damage and on top of that, you have a general protocol that you felt the need to follow. It's my fault Kanani. But whichever decision you made I respect because you always make the right ones.
Choy: I just didn't know if I made a mistake or not. This is a serious situation and the decision was tough.
Nemo: Well, don't worry about any of that now Kanani. What's important is what direction to go now.
_____________________________
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/8/2006 10:08:22 PM
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rcudawg
Posts: 317
Joined: 10/20/2005
From: Southeastern Nebraska.
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After what seems years, Clare turned her head and look in Markov's general direction. Tear-lines still trailed on her cheeks, from what he could see. It was hard to tell for sure, since she was hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on her knees in such a way as to hide most of her face. Why are you still here? she managed to say, in a somewhat choked voice.
Closing his eyes and turning his head up towards the sky and leaning his head back, Markov admitted, Rrrrgggghhh... I don't know... I just felt... Mmmmrrrggghhh Just felt that you neeeedggghhed company....
Shrugging somewhat, Clare closed her eyes, leaned back and also looked towards the sky. I guess I'm glad that you stayed... Kind of...
Markov: How did rrrggghhiii upset you so much?
Clare: Not you... Exactly... But... She sighes deeply, forcefully wiping away some fresh tears on her cheeks. It's not you.... It's... It's... Oh, I don't know how to say it!!
Markov: Loose somerrrgghhuun? Somerrgghhun hurt you? Afrrraid or loving?
Clare closes her eyes tighly, sniffing away tears... Or, at least trying to... To herself: Oh, God... How can I tell him that I've been used before? How can I tell him that I'm afraid to love.... To risk being hurt.... How do I telll him? Why am I so worried about it? Yeah... He saved my life... Many lives in fact... I... I...
Markov: Clarrggghh?
Clare: Markov... Please... This is... Is really hard for me.... I....
Markov: Mmmmrrrgghhh... Many yearrrgghhs ago, my sisterrrr died... She was maybe thirrgghhteen?
Clare: I'm... I'm sorry...
Markov: She... She looked musshhhcchhh more Felonian than me.... At herr age... She looked like a larrrggghh cougarrrgghh....
Clare: I...
Markov: We were... RRrggghh... Rubs some of his own, fresh tears away from his lighly furry cheek with the back of his hand. We were camping... She was just relaxxingggrrr on a branch.. A farmer... He didn't know a Felonian from a kitty cat... Rrriigghh think...
Clare's eye's open wide with surprise as she realizes what Markov is going to say... He didn't.. Didn't just...
Markov just nod his head.... After several tense moments... He didn't aim toogghh well... She died.... Died... hourrrggghhsss.. Markov's chest start to shake as he his tears fall fresh, furiously.
Clare turned her head in embarasment, her own cheeks damp. To herself: Ohhhhh..... boy.... What do I... What can I... In a low voice. I'm.... I'm really... ah.... sorry...
Markov lets out a low, long growl. For some reason, Clare doesn't cringe. She's startled, but doesn't feel the need to cringe... Wierd...
Again, many long, quiet moments pass.... Finally, Markov looks at his watch and realizes that he will need to be on the bridge in a few hours. With as exhausted as he feels, he knows that he won't get nearly enough of a rest... Barely a catnap...
Clare presses her head back against the treetrunk and sighes.... It's getting really, really late... At least for me... And I'm... I'm just so...
Markov: Eggrrasshted?
Clare lets out a light chuckle... All of a sudden, she felt a bit better. Not much, but a little... That's an understatement.
Markov: I have the brrrggghige in a few hours.... Barely enough time forrrgghh a catnap... Markov chuckles at the thought. After a few seconds, Clare chuckles a little with him. Both of them then look at each other... Into each other's eyes... Markov felt that she could see the sadness in his eyes, in his heart.. He could see that in her eyes... But, there was much more there, that he could see in her eyes. He wasn't quite sure what all he saw, and he was so tired that he just didn't care.....
Without saying another word, both climbed down out of their trees. Markov said: Compurrrrterrrggghhh... End programmmm
The trees, forest floor, the sunlight, everything dissolved. Like a dream, when waking, everything quickly faded away. Markov, with his tail twitching slighly, walked out of the opening door and turned right towards his room. Clare turns and heads the opposite direction, towards her room. They walk away, still feeling sad... Still feeling very exhausted... Both feeling an odd peace about what had just transpired... Both quietly asking God for help in understanding what had just happened.. Both listening to God's stillness... Quietness that continues with them, quietening their hearts and minds.. Quieting them as they get ready for bed... Quieting them, quieting them to deep, deep sleep......
_____________________________
Everybody dies. Not everyone really lives. Braveheart
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/15/2006 1:15:18 AM
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rcudawg
Posts: 317
Joined: 10/20/2005
From: Southeastern Nebraska.
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An electronic beeping starts going off. Markov groans and growls as he reaches out to the branch near him and turns the alarm clock off. Originally, his quarters had been standard size. But, upon his awakening not that long ago, he found that he'd been moved to a new quarters. One that had a higher roof so that he could have a perch to sleep on. Nothing like sleeping on a nice, firm branch, even if it was more of a long catnap, to recharge one's self. At least, if your at least part Felonian.
Grumbling to himself and he drops down the floor, he takes a quick shower and then gets ready for the day. Upon ordering his breakfast, a plate of semi-cooked ham, potato coins and a large glass of fruit juice, Markov is surprised that he has to verify everything. Odd... Then again, a lot of odd things have been going on lately.
After eating his quick breakfast and changing into a clean uniform, Markov exits his room. Glancing at his wristwatch, he sees that he has just enough time to get to the Bridge. Odd.... This being in command, such an odd feeling. Nothing like surving on his own, or leading a small band of resistance back on... How long ago was it? Hard to tell sometimes... Sometimes that experience... That hell... Seems like it was only yesterday.. Sometimes, it felt like it was an eterity ago.. Sometimes...
Stopping in mid-step, Markov nose catches a scent... Something that he has smell a long time ago, something familiar... No.. Someone familiar. But, who was it? Turning around abruptly, and startling a couple of other people who were passing near-by... No wonder... His claws were sticking out.. Again...
Walking quickly back down the corridor to the previous intersection, Markov looks around, each direction. No one that he could see that look even vagely familiar. Practically no one, for that matter... Sniffing the air for several seconds, Markov can barely smell that scent. Not that it was strong to begin with. His instincts tell him that something is not right... But, that's all... Time to..
A low, long growl escapes from his lips as he realizes that he is almost late for reporting to the bridge... What a heck of a way to start this first tour of duty... Spinning back around and going into a light jog, Markov gets to the elevator just in time to get in, before the doors close. Spinning quickly, he pulls his tail inside the turbo lift.
Good morning, Lietenant.
Looking over his shoulder, Markov looks right into a pair of bright green eyes. Somewhat tired eyes, but still bright. Lt. Green...
Markov: Mmmmrrrrggghh... Good morrrgghning, Clare... Nap well?
Clare: Well enough... I had to spend some time praying before going to bed... But, I rested well enough. You?
Markov shrugs.... Then says: Forrrghot to pray... Need to remember that...
Clare: What god or gods do you pray to?
Markov: Yashua...
Clare: Whom?
Markov: My dad studied Rrrrrebrew... Yashua is Herrbew for Jesus.
Clare: Oh....
The turbo lift stops and the doors open. Both Markov and Clare walk to their appointed stations. Clare to the science spot and Markov to the Captians Chair. But, instead of sitting down, Markov just stands, taking a data pad from one of the Ensigns, Markov scans the summary of the past several hours. Quite a lot has been happening, it seems to him. He makes the notation that he has read it, and then, leaning against the chair, he says: Rrrrreporrgght
One after another, each of the different stations report that all is as it should be. Nodding his achnowledgement, Markov takes a closer look at the Captians Chair. Nope... Definitely not made for a Felonian. No place for his tail. Go figure...
After a while... Sir?
Turning to his science officer, Yes?
Clare: Sir, I'm picking up some odd readings at... Pauses for several seconds as she analyzes her insturments. While she is doing this, Markov walks up to her side. I'm picking up an odd gamma signature coming from a solar system at 2167 by 46.786. According to our records, this reading should not be coming from that area. Turning to Markov, looking him striaght in his dark brown, feline eyes... These readings are not natural in nature. Since we are over 20 lightyears away, I can't get a postive enough reading to know what is causing it. But, what ever it is, it's not supposed to be there.
Markov looks at the instruments and gently scratches his chin with one of his very sharp claws... How close do we need to brreeeghh in order to get a clearer reading?
Clare: At least 10 lightyears, Sir... Eight would be much better.
Markov: Helm?
Helm officer: Sir?
Markov: Calculate the change in time necessary to take a detour to within 9.5 lightyears of this disturrrgghance... Turning back to Clare. Lt. Green... Make sure no one elsssshh is closerrrggh..
As Clare makes the necessary checks to see if anyone is closer, the Helm officer gives his report. Only 8 standard hours longer to make the necessary arc for the science officer to get a clearer reading... Eight hours... A lot of time.. Put them behind schedule by at least five hours...
Clare: Sir, we're the only ones within 3 days travel, at max warp. And, unless I'm reading this information wrong... Markov turns back to her. It's an inhabited system. And, something terrible could happen very soon.
Tapping his comm badge, Captain?
Captian Nemo: I'm a little busy Markov, is it important?
***************************************************************
Leaning against the bulkhead, the man, almost totally in the shadows, forced himself to breath slower... Forced himself to relax.. Just a little.. In a very, very low voice, but still full of anger... Blast, it! Blast! It! Why is he still alive?! Why?!
Taking in a very deep breath and holding it for several seconds, sweat continues to drip off his face... Releasing his breath in a long exhale, almost like a gasp.... I can't believe... Can't believe that beast is still alive! He should have been killed! All of them... Blasted... Blasted shuttle!! They all... He starts to let loose a long stream of curses, but a harshe cough doubles him over and causes him to stop talking... For several seconds, he his body shakes from his coughing and gasping...
Eventually, he manages to straighten himself up... Cursed beast! Thanks to him, his body is almost dead. The fact that he's still alive and able to move around... The gods must love him... Must love the Cause that he's fighting for... Must want him to suceed.
He must be crazy, though, with his body as broken as it was.... To take such an asignment... But, it's for the Cause. It's for... the... Cause... Markov... That's just desert... But... The Cause... The Cause first...
Aloud: Blast it! Why did they have to fine all of my mines!?!? Why?! Oh... Lords of the fires of Haarrchusth?! Why did he have to find all of them??!!
Closing his eyes, he places his mechanically enhanced hand, that was useless without the modifications, onto the grip of his weapon. The low powered pulse weapon was only good for close ranges. But, it was one of the few things that he was able to sneak aboard this rediculous ship... Handy weapon, but he still prefered his "special" baton. But, he had to keep it hidden.. Too big to carry around.. Not unlike his little pulse pistol, as he liked to call it.
Forcing himself to stand back up, straight, the man walked in the shadows of the almost unused corridor for storage rooms that he had ducked down. He had almost been seen by that... that.. that beast... Thank the gods he'd learned how to rely on his "special senses." Lucky.... He taps a door release and the door slides open. Forcing himself to walk as naturally as possible, he walks into the corridor and goes back to "work."
_____________________________
Everybody dies. Not everyone really lives. Braveheart
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/20/2006 2:37:18 AM
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Mrs.Above_All
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Joined: 4/12/2005
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5 hours later...
Exiting the turbo lift, Lt. Green can't help being excited to see what the next few hours will look like. An inhabited system. The unknown has always facinated her and one thing she is not afraid of is the idea of the unknown, at least when it comes to space. Claire's thoughts then shift once again to that time in the holodeck. She begins to grit her teeth. Why now? Why am I going through all of this? What in the world triggered her thoughts of the past? And of all things of her past, it just had to be about him. Why him? Why does she has to experience the pain all over again? I was fine for past 5 years. Claire says to herself Ok, fine brain. Ok fine heart. You wanna revisit the past then bring it on! I'm not afraid. Claire goes back to holodeck 2, checks to make sure that all is functioning properly, and enters the holodeck. This time it's a grassy field with many trees. She approaches on of the trees and there lying on the grass next to it is a blank journal and a pencil. She sits and leans against the tree. Closing her eyes she begins to process her thoughts. Then, her hand begins to move across the paper.
I can't begin to understand why I am writing this today. It's been 5 years since a held a pencil like this. It's been five years since I last wrote anything that had nothing to do with scientific readings. I'm confused. Thoughts of Mark just popped up and it bought back some deep wounds, wounds that I thought I had healed from. Apparently not. But I did. I did heal from those wounds. Yes, I remember. It was God that healed me from my wounds. Or was it? I went to church. I felt better. I felt good. But then I thought, you know what? It wasn't God. Come on now. Maybe I didn't want to believe that it was God. Maybe I just wanted all the credit? But you know what? I fell away. I "backslid" as they like to call it. But I was fine. Claire pauses for a moment But now. Old wounds have returned. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe God is for real? But why in the world should I go back to Him? He can't possibly take me back after rejecting him? Maybe I CAN do it all by myself? Maybe. Just maybe. I'm so confused. I will give anything and do whatever it takes to erase these old wounds once and for all. But I am so ashamed. I feel so trapped. I just don't know what to do.
Claire begins to cry. Then all of a sudden she hears a voice and feels a tug on her heart. For some odd reason she feels the need to modify what she just wrote. Instead of fighting and it even though confused as to why, she tears her writing out of the journal. On the top she writes, "Dear Markov". Then on the bottom she writes, "Sincerely, Claire". She then adds:
Thank you for keeping me company in the holodeck earlier. I really am sorry about your sister. It must be painful to lose someone you love.
She folds the piece of paper. She can't believe she is sending this as a letter to Markov. Why is she so drawn to him?
Claire: Computer. Upload one number 10 envelope in off white. An number 10 envelope appears next to her. She places the paper in the envelope and sends it off to Lt. Markov's mailbox. Before transporting it to his personal mailbox, she pauses. I don't why I am doing this but some reason, I just need to tell him this. Claire transports the letter and then heads off to her quaters to take a nap.
< Message edited by AboveAll -- 3/20/2006 9:47:45 PM >
_____________________________
Celebrating Christ's birth...during Hannukah! BLOG
<-----My FIRST Turkey!
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/20/2006 9:27:03 PM
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the_captain
Posts: 522
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From: God's Country - Dallas, Texas
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Nemo sits in his ready room looking out at the passing stars. The course change to investigate the anomoly wasn't too bad. They would be there soon and be able to see what was going on. His invistation team was working hard on their project. They had been at it four days straight now. Nemo was certain that, given the chance, they would find out who was behind the sabotogue.
The chime to Nemo's ready room rings
Nemo: Enter. Shell, Choy, and Ingersoil enter the ready room together and stand before Nemo's desk I will assume by the presence of all three of you that you have something.
They look at each other for a moment.
Shell: Well, Captain, we do, and we don't.
Nemo: Would you like to explain that statement.
Shell: In your twenty plus years of service to StarFleet, you managed to make a lot of enemies.
Nemo: Made, or developed? There is a difference. Some people hate you because they are jealous, others because they believe you hurt them or someone they loved. I wouldn't call that making enemies. But go on.
Shell: Nevertheless, we were able to develop a list of twenty-seven possible suspects.
Nemo: And from that list you were able to narrow it down to?
Choy: Two. Neither of which we can find.
Nemo: That's good. You can't find them.
Shell: There is only so much security clearance that a Commander has, Captain. Certian records we weren't allowed to access.
Nemo: I'll get you into them. What about these two suspects?
Choy: The first one comes from your third away missions on board the HOOD. Four members of the team you were on were injured and one was killed due to a malfunction of a generator. A Lt. William Taylor died. In the investigation an Ensign Hal Walston reported that you missadjusted the pressure guage on the generator.
Nemo: I remember that. During the inquiry, it was discovered that I never touched the generator, but Walston had. He was dismissed from the service.
Choy: Six months later, he found William Taylor's younger brother, a Kurt Taylor and told him his own version of the incident. Kurt Taylor dissapeared a year later.
Nemo: What happened to Walston?
Ingersol: He committed suicide three years later.
Nemo: So, one suspect is a younger brother of a dead shipmate. Who is the other suspect?
Shell: Ensign Sandra Kendal.
Nemo: Sandy?
Shell: You remember her also?
Nemo: She died on Aldare 4 thirteen years ago. It was a shuttle accident. Something happened to the inertial dampeners and the shields when they entered the atmosphere and it burned up during entry.
Choy: She re-appeared ten years ago on Chandra two. Reportedly she was looking for you.
Nemo: I was her Captain then. I sent her and two others down to investigate a new plant life that we had discovered. How did she survive?
Choy: We don't know. We're not even sure it's her. What we are sure of is that all the other suspects have been accounted for and are of no threat to our ship. These two are.
Nemo: We need to find them. One of them is on board this ship, and I want them found.
Shell: And just how are WE going to do that?
Nemo: WE are going back to your little work cubby, I'm going to get you into those files you need to look at.
Nemo rises and exits, followed by the team
< Message edited by the_captain -- 3/20/2006 9:35:08 PM >
_____________________________
Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/21/2006 10:14:11 AM
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the_captain
Posts: 522
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From: God's Country - Dallas, Texas
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Shell, Ingersol, and Choy sat in the conference room again, but now armed with over a hundred classified files they had been denied access to earlier. Nemo had used his top level security clearance to gain access to almost four fifths of the files. A secured message to Admiral Land gained them access to the rest. The next two days were spent pouring over those files. Looking for that one piece of information that would tell them who was after Captain Nemo, and where that person was.
_____________________________
Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/24/2006 11:57:28 AM
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the_captain
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Nemo, Markov and the constuction crew were busy in the shuttle bay finishing putting the frame of the fighter together. Two of the crewmen were conducting the required inspections of the joints.
Crewman 1: Captain.
Nemo: Yes.
Crewman 1: We have a problem.
Nemo: What is it. walking over to where the crewman was scanning a joint holding the port wing.
Crewman 1: This joint, something isn't right with the reading on my tri-corder.
Nemo: Let me take a look. Nemo runs the crewmans tri-corder over the joint and sees the anomolis readings. He then takes out his own tri-corder and runs the same scan with the same results. He then moves to another joint and repeats the scan. Slowly, Nemo runs scans on all the joints on the port wing, then the starbord wing. Nemo taps his combage. Nemo to Lts. Brenda, Ingersol, and commanders Shell and Choy. Report to shuttle bay 6, now.
< Message edited by the_captain -- 3/24/2006 7:25:56 PM >
_____________________________
Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/24/2006 7:25:41 PM
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the_captain
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Nemo stood in front of the officers he had summoned to the shuttle bay, his construction crew behind him.
Nemo: We've spent the last two days welding these joints into place, according to the blueprints and Federation standards.
Choy: Now there's something wrong with the polymers you used.
Brenda: Looks like they were exposed to a high frequency molecular disrupter.
Nemo: That was Markov's opinion also.
Brenda: Looking at Markov Good eye, Lt. If you ever want to transfer to engineering...
Nemo: He's working for me, right now Chief.
Shell: The implications therefore, would be that someone was in here...
Nemo: That's the implication.
Crewman 2: Which doesn't make sense.
Choy: Why not, ensign?
Crewman 2: Because, all it does is set us back a couple of days. All we have to do is recycle this, and rebuild the frame. Yes, it's a little frustrating, but not something that will really hurt. And the way they did it, making it so obvious. If they wanted to really hurt the shuttle, they should have waited and hit a system that would have been much harder to find.
Brenda: It's not that easy, Ensign.
Crewman 2: What do you mean?
Brenda: You're not going to be recycling this metal. The disruption is to the subatomic level. The replicator wouldn't be able to correct for the defect. Anything you used this matter in, would fall apart in a matter of time. And if you used it in something vital.
Shell: It could harm or even kill someone, or even destroy the ship.
Brenda: We're going to have to vaporize this, it's a waste.
Nemo: Well, whatever their reasons, they've let us know they know what we're doing down here. Nemo turns to the three crewmen. You three, you're dismissed until further notice. The three crewmen look at each other and then leave. Nemo then addresses Choy, Shell, Ingersol, Grayfoot and Brenda. I want the rest of you to comb through this shuttle bay with the finest of fine tooth combs. I want you to go over every millimeter of this bay and find anything that leads us to this person. Nemo exited the bay
< Message edited by the_captain -- 3/24/2006 7:30:49 PM >
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Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/26/2006 9:00:14 PM
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the_captain
Posts: 522
Joined: 4/12/2005
From: God's Country - Dallas, Texas
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Captain's log:
Stardate 2070.12.03
We are three days out of starbase 214, and the sabatour has struck again. This time destroying the work my crew and I had done on the Delta Flyer. This time, the attack seemed to be stepping backwards. While it was personal, aimed at me and my work, it wasn't harmful. While the last two attacks harmed people close to me, this one only hurt a project.
This change in pattern concerns me. Will they excallate their next attack? When will it be? Will we be able to survive it?
Commanders Shell and Choy assure me that we are closer to learning the identy of the sabatour, but I don't feel like we are. And I really want to feel like we are closer.
_____________________________
Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/29/2006 7:09:42 PM
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the_captain
Posts: 522
Joined: 4/12/2005
From: God's Country - Dallas, Texas
Status: offline
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Dr. Kevin Tyler sat at his desk in his quarters on deck 5. A pad of paper and pen sat beside him on the desk next to his computer. An open file, addressed to Kanani stared him in the face.
There was so much that he wanted to tell her, so much he needed to tell her. Yet he was unable. How? How could he possibly tell her that, yes, it was him at that dance those many years ago? How could he tell her what had happened to him since then? How could he possibly make her understand the conflict he was feeling inside? He couldn't. He never would be able to do so.
He stopped, turned the computer off, and stood up. Picking up the belt on the chair and his medical kit, he walked out the door.
< Message edited by the_captain -- 3/29/2006 7:22:29 PM >
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Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/29/2006 7:22:29 PM
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the_captain
Posts: 522
Joined: 4/12/2005
From: God's Country - Dallas, Texas
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The USS DEBIT CARD, Soverign class, 20 Plus decks. Decks 15 through 26 dedicated to engineering. The warp core, ten decks tall, stood as a momument to Starfleet technology. The Mark 7 warp core, capable of sustaining warp 9.995 for twelve and a half hours. Warp 9.95 for over twenty hours, and warp 9.5 for over a week. The advancements in warp technology had progressed faster than anyone had even dared guess.
However security in engineering had not advanced. One personal cloaking device stolen from the chief engineers office slid around a waist, and anyone could go anywhere. The lone cloaked figure stood on deck 15, at the top of the warp core. With no one else around, they were able to lean just far enough over the rail to place the device on the core, right by a support joint. The seal tapping the core slowly penetrated the core and began to hum, letting the figure know the device was active. After two more stops, all three devices were in place. After three hours they would begin to draw energy from the core, and in a day, would be ready.
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Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/29/2006 7:55:48 PM
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rcudawg
Posts: 317
Joined: 10/20/2005
From: Southeastern Nebraska.
Status: offline
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Several hours ago....
For several seconds, Markov waited for the Captain to answer his hail. He hoped that the Captain wasn't too, too busy. This kind of decision was not one he wanted to make without at least knowing the Captain knew what he thought needed to be done. Something, yeah, he could make a decision and then talk with the Captain later, but some other things....
Captian Nemo: I'm a little busy. This had better be important...
Markov: Rrrgghh.. Sir, it is... Lt. Green has just detected a disturrgghhbance in the electromagnetic field in a nearby inhabited shhhytem. It's something that srrrgghoudn't be there, and something that could be fatal. But, we'rrggh too far away to know exactly what.
Captain: Are you suggesting that we take a detour to find out for sure?
Green: Yes, Sir. If we alter our course by a few degrees, in about three hours we'll be close enough that I can get a better reading.
Captain: How much longer will it take us to reach Starbase 214?
Markov: If we stay only a few hourrrgghs to do the scanning, less than a day. Only 10 light yeargghhs out of our way, Sirr.
There is a brief pause while, then... Lt. Greyfoot, thanks for bring this to my attention. Lt. Green, as soon as you can, I want you to put together a preliminary report and brief me on it. Have Markov help you as much as necessary. Markov?
Markov: Sir?
Captain: Adjust course as much as necessary so that Lt. Green can get the information that she needs so that we can alert Starfleet as necessary.
Markov: Rrrgghsss Sir.
Captain: Oh, and Markov?
Markov: Sir?
Captain: When you're done, please meet me in the docking bay for that 'special project.' There's some things that we could use your expert opinion on.
Markov: Yes, Sir.
As Markov turns to return to the Captain Chair, he feels a hand on his side.
Claire: 'Special project?'
Markov just gives her a quick, but genuin smile. Being half Felonian, it was a toothy smile. But, judging by the 'quiet smile' that appeared on her face, after her brief surprised, she appearently hadn't been offended by it. Good thing, too. It looked it Markov that the two of them would be working on that project together in about a day.
As he sat on the edge of the chair, his tail preventing him from leaning back in it, he starting thinking...
That ship was going to be a real challenge. But, with a lot of work, it will be an awesome ship! The ideas that the Captian had with combining his idea with modern shuttle and fighter designs looks like it just might work. Still a few minor issues to work out, but they had some extra time for that.
In almost a day from now, Markov knew that he and Claire... No, Lt. Green, would probably be doing a lot of work together in analyzing what was happening in that near-by system. Markov then noted to himself that the two of them will probably end of spending a lot of time together. Interesting...
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Everybody dies. Not everyone really lives. Braveheart
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/29/2006 7:57:55 PM
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the_captain
Posts: 522
Joined: 4/12/2005
From: God's Country - Dallas, Texas
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Cargo Bay 2 was full of medical and engineering supplies. Commander Herrera and Lt. Newsom walked through the isles of stacked containers.
Nohemi: I appreciate the help, Jane.
Jane: No problem. I’m not back on duty till we pull into port.
Nohemi: How did you get that much time off?
Jane: I’m up for the Lt. Commanders test and the Captain wanted to give me some time to study.
Nohemi: He did that for me. As a matter of fact, I’m up for the full commanders test in a few months.
Jane: You don’t have anything to worry about. You’ve aced everything since you became commissioned.
Nohemi: Yes, but this one is for command. There’s a lot more to it.
Jane: You’ll do fine. By the way, how are you feeling?
Nohemi: I’m fine. Dr. RAM did a good job fixing me up.
Jane: I was worried about you.
Nohemi: Thanks.
Jane: What exactly are we looking for?
Nohemi: Space. We have almost seven metric tons of supplies we are picking up and I have to find someplace to pack it all.
Jane: What if you had engineering build you some more shelving around the walls?
Nohemi: That might help. We should take some measurements and talk to Lt. Brenda.
Nohemi and Jane began to run their tricorders around the perimeter of the cargo bay recording the height and density of the walls, noting the positions of the wall braces and outer hull frame. Just as the two were finishing their readings, Jane noticed something unusual.
Jane: Nohemi, I have something strange on my tricorder.
Nohemi: What is it?
Before Nohemi could walk over to Jane two short phaser blasts dropped both women to the deck.
***
Nemo sat in the command chair on the bridge of the DEBIT CARD, Shell and Choy sat on either side of their Captain. Troi in her assigned seat by Choy. Ingersol monitored the activity of security at his station. Grayfoot stood at communications, Li sat at helm. Brenda was in engineering at her post.
The DEBIT CARD glided gracefully through space on course and on time towards starbase 214. The calm before the storm.
_____________________________
Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/29/2006 8:33:10 PM
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rcudawg
Posts: 317
Joined: 10/20/2005
From: Southeastern Nebraska.
Status: offline
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Almost 10 hours later, a very tired Markov walks to the door of his quarters. As the door opens for him, he walks in and approaches the computer consol.
Markov: Computer... The computer beeps... Small pizza, thin crust, lots of meat, mushrooms and peppers.. Markov watches as the computer now does it's now-automatic self dynostic, and then his food appears. Markov takes the plate of hot pizza over to the table and starts to eat. As he eats, he quickly says a silent prayer of thanks for the food and his knowledge being such a help to the crew. Shaking his head slowly while chewing, he contemplates the last day of work.
For starters, he had that very ackward time with Lt. Green. A pretty lady, according to human standards. Seemed to be really smart, too. But, distracted by a lot, also. He couldn't tell for sure, but there seemed to be something really distracting her, something really personal.
Then, there was that sabatoge of the Delta Flyer's framework. He and several others came to the conclusion that someone had taken time to do those molecular-level damage. Who ever it was, either was very smart in a lot of areas or had some really good teachers. Or, worse yet, there was more than one. Not enough evidence to know for sure. But, who ever this sabatour was, if it was really just one person, he or she was good!
A faint beeping caught his attention. Looking over his shoulder, Markov noticed that he had two messages. One electronic, and the other an actual envolope. Odd... Who would actually send him a physical letter?
Setting his partially eaten pizza down and walking over to the wall, Markov picks up the physical letter first. He was extremely curious as to who would send it to him. Markov notes that only his name is on the envelope. Interesting....
Using one of his claws, Markov easily slices open the envelope and pulls the folded piece of paper out out of the envelope. It appeared to be a sheet of decorative stationary torn out of a book, like a journal. Although he had never kept one, his father and sister had. Both, espeically his sister, had written in it almost religiously. As he scanned the bottom of the letter, he almost dropped it in surprise, seeing that it was from Claire! But, that wasn't even half as surprising as the actual contents!
After reading it for the third time, slowly, digesting its contents, Markov drops it onto the floor, feeling even more tired than he should. Why was she sharing all of that with him? Talking about personal! But, then again, he had shared a number of person things with her.
It definitely seemed like there was something possibly developing between them. Or, God seemed to have a sense of humor bring them together and sharing all of this...
Feeling too tired to know... Feeling too tired to care... Markov wearily shook his head, his eyes closed, as he started to push his very, very tired body out of the chair. The computer beeping brought back the realization that he had another message. Who could this one be from? God, Himself?!
With more force than what Markov intended, he slapped the console 'play' button. An image of Tiranna, his niece, appeared. Behind her stood a man that he didn't immediately recoinize. The short video played:
Uncle Markov! It's me, your favorite niece! Tiranna! Remember me? She giggles for a few seconds and the jabs her thumb at the man behind her. In case your wondering, that's my foster-Dad, Micheal. He's cool, I guess. Markov notes that the man just shakes his head and rolls his eyes at her comment. At least he kept smiling. He's an engineer and he just... Get this! He just got transfered to Starbase 214. So, I'll be a lot closer to you. See if your Captain will let you stop by for a day or so! Ahhh... What kind of bed do you sleep in? Oh! I just turned 10 yesterday! Happy Birthday to me! She does a quick, kiddish dance in the chair, which actually brought a smile to Markov's face. Watching the man, Micheal, behind Tiranna, it looked like he was about to explode. Seemed like he love kids. Good thing, too.... He'd have to find out more about this 'Micheal.' Well, I have to finish packing. We're leaving in a day or so, and it'll take a couple of days to get there. I'll write when we get there. Love ya, Uncle Cat!
Groaning and shaking his head, Markov hits the 'save' button. When he does, he notices that it's actually three days old, almost four. That meant that Tiranna and her foster family will be at Starbase 214 soon. Just before he gets there.
Aloud, but quietly...Rrrrggghhh... God, do you have a sense of humor? Orrrgghh... He just shakes his head, feeling very, very tired. Looking at the time, he realized that he will need to be on the bridge in just over 8 hours. Quickly shedding his uniform, he walks as fast as his tired body will take him, and leaps into his perch. He is practically dead asleep before he fully lands...
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Everybody dies. Not everyone really lives. Braveheart
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation - 3/29/2006 9:16:55 PM
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the_captain
Posts: 522
Joined: 4/12/2005
From: God's Country - Dallas, Texas
Status: offline
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Ingersol and Grayfoot noticed the alarm at the same time.
Grayfoot: Captain, I have an alarm in Cargo Bay 2.
Ingersol: Phaser fire, Captain.
Shell: Who’s down there?
Nemo: Nohemi.
Ingersol: Scaners detect two combadges. Lt. Commander Nohemi Herrera, and Lt. Jane Newsome.
Nemo: Nemo to Herrera, report. his voice becoming stronger and more panicked Nohemi, report. (no answer Nemo to Newsome. almost yelling Jane, report.
Ingersol: I’m getting a third life sign in the cargo bay, but no I.D.
Nemo: Bridge to Sick Bay, get a medical team to Cargo Bay 2. Roc, Shell, Choy, with me. Grayfoot, you have the bridge.
Nemo ran to the turbo lift followed closely by Roc, Shell, and Choy.
***
As Nemo and his team rounded the corner to the entrance of Cargo Bay 2 they found RAM bent over one of his nurses.
Nemo: Report.
RAM: Just as the door opened Nurse Hill was hit by a phaser blast.
Nemo: How is she doctor?
RAM: She is unconscious, but alive.
Nemo: Did anybody get a look at who fired the shot?
RAM: No, Captain, the shot came from behind a stack of boxes.
A security team came from the opposite end of the corridor and stood on the other side of the medical team
Shell: Captain, we need to know who is in there.
Nemo: I know Commander. RAM, is your medical staff fully accounted for?
RAM: No, Captain. We found Dr. Tyler’s com badge sitting on his desk, but we could not find him.
Kanani: Kevin? Her look of shock could not be hidden
Nemo: Computer, how many life signs are in the cargo bay?
Computer Voice: There are two life signs in the cargo bay.
Nemo: Can you tell me who they are?
Computer Voice: Positive identification on one life form, Lt. Commander Nohemi Herrera. Negative identification on the second life form.
Shell: Where is Newsome?
Nemo: Commander. Computer, physical characteristics of the second life form?
Computer Voice: Second life form is human species, male gender, 175cm tall.
Nemo: Tyler.
Nemo walked over to the door and tapped in several command codes.
Shell: Captain, he’ll shoot you if you open the door.
Nemo: No he won’t. He wants to face me, eye to eye. He wants me to know who he is, and what his reason for hurting me is. Everybody, hold your position here. Nemo tapped a button and the door slowly opened less than 30cm Tyler, this is Nemo. I’m coming in.
A phaser shot over the heads of those standing close, Nemo dove in behind a stack of container crates as the door closed.
***
The rest of the command staff stood for a moment as the door closed. Shell was the first to react.
Shell: Dr. get your nurse back to sick bay. Ingersol, station your men at each entrance to this bay and place a team at each Jefferies entrance on this deck, two decks above us and two below us. Shell to the bridge.
Grayfoot: Brrridgge here.
Shell: Dr. Tyler is holding at least one hostage in Cargo Bay 2 and the Captain is in there with him. I want an open com badge from the captain to you, me, Ingersol, and Choy, understood?
Grayfoot: I’mm on ittt.
Shell: And Lt.
Grayfoot: Yes, commanderrr.
Shell: Block all communications to the Captains Com badge, unless he calls out. Understood?
Grayfoot: Grrrot it.
Markov quickly moved to the communications console and punched in the codes to block in coming messages from the Captain but allow him to call out.
Shell crossed to Choy
Shell: Commander, give me your com badge.
Choy: Why?
Shell: taking the badge from Kanani’s uniform I don’t have time to answer questions. Roc, let me have yours. I’m going to modify it so that we can communicate without being heard at any distance.
Ingersol: What do you have in mind, Commander?
Shell: Can you get to the air vent on the second level of this bay?
Ingersol: Of course.
Shell: Can you get in without being detected?
Ingersol: How quickly do you want me in?
Shell: handing Roc’s com badge back to him Go, I’ll let you know. Roc leaves running down the corridor Kanani, we’re going into the cargo bay through the Jefferies tubes on the port and starboard sides. Do you understand? staring at Shell Kanani, snap out of it. Commander!
Kanani: Jefferies tubes. What’s your plan?
Shell: Get in there and try to get a clean shot at him. Are you up to this?
Kanani: Yes.
Shell: You take Starboard, I’ll take port.
< Message edited by the_captain -- 3/29/2006 10:57:42 PM >
_____________________________
Since opinions are formed on limited knowledge and intellignece, stupid people should be discouraged from forming them, and forbidden from ever expressing them.
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RE: Star Trek: The Singles Generation | | | |
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