This is the second time I am having to write this message because I wrote
all of it once, spell-checked, and I thought I sent it...but it wasn't
arriving in the listserv...so I checked, and found no trace of it...so here
I got again...........
-------------------------------
MD 7.125

The lights dimmed, and the walls turned into a starscape around the senior
officers sitting in the conference room.  Kfarad pushed another button and
the figure which was becoming a very familiar sight to him, "the comet"
appeared floating above the table, projected by the round holographic
projector sitting in the center of the table.

Kfarad got up, and started his presentation. "We have sent three class-seven
probes to this comet.  We have transported back samples of it, and studied
them in our lab.  We virtually saturated the thing with sensor rays, and
gathered as much relevant information from the database as possible."  It
has been almost twelve hours since sensors first picked up the comet, when
Kfarad was supposed to get off duty.  He has been working with his entire
science team around the clock trying to figure it out.

"We have all the data we can wish for.  Now starts that analysis.  As I'm
sure you all know, this part is infinitely harder than the latter.  There is
an abundance of raw material and facts.  And now, we are in the process of
making something out of it.  Making it mean something."  said Kfarad,
continuing his briefing to the senior staff.  He had just done two straight
duty shifts in a row, but wasn't beginning to get fatigued.  After all, it
wasn't everyday that sensors come across a never before seen anomaly.  For
Kfarad, this was the greatest part of being a Starfleet officer, and it did
a better job of keeping up than any anti-sleep pill.

"Now, what we have come up with so far is this," said Kfarad, pushing a
button.  The comet-like figure zoomed in on its coma.  "There has been a
question raised by Deitrahs as to what kept the antimatter in the comet
contained in the first place.  Close sensor scans discovered iron clumps in
the poles, and gaps which provided for an adequate magnetic equalization.
There was plenty also enough electromagnetic radiation from space to keep
the anti-matter quiet.  For a while...." Kfarad pushed another button, and
the image zoomed out again.

"This comet, as we have come to call it, is not actually a comet."  Puzzled
faces twisted on faces all around the table.  Kfarad pushed a button again,
and the  image above the table was put into motion.  "For hundreds of
thousands of years,  788,473 years to be exact as tests tell us, this rock
has been just been a dead boulder floating around in space.  But a couple
decades ago, the rock got trapped in a nearby black hole's event horizon.
It slowly gained speed and started spiraling towards the center of this
black hole.  The rock exponentially gained speed and eventually surpassed
what  we would call full impulse."  The animation above the table portrayed
what Kfarad was describing through orbital paths, lines, maps, animations,
and complex calculations.

"But still, although this is fairly unusual, it has been recorded before on
several occasions.  Now, we get to the interesting part..."  Kfarad pushed
some buttons, and looked at the expressions around the table, attempting to
evaluate their expressions.  From his experience, he got the impression that
most were worried, or intrigued.  This was one of the times he wished he was
half Betazoid.  A new animation appeared, showing the trajectory of two
subjects.  As expected the two collided, following a huge explosion, then a
jump to warp.  Kfarad waited until the animation ended, then explained.
"Two objects, probably both caught in the black hole's gravity collide."
Kfarad zoomed in on the animation, and played the collision sequence again,
and paused just as the two masses made contact.  He pointed to the larger
asteroid-looking object.  "This is our friend the comet." He pointed to the
other object. "This is what started this whole paradox.  It is an object of
unknown origin, and chemical composition, but we know it was substantially
smaller than our friend.  We have no way of knowing exactly what it is
because it came in with such an impact that it drove all the way to the
center of the comet, coming in contact with the comet.  In a couple of
seconds, the antimatter devoured it, and started leaking out of the
dilithium housings, and reacting with the normal matter.  The whole asteroid
started collapsing, with cracks forming everywhere, and plasma aplenty.  Now
one of these, coincidentally we think, formed into a shape that if flooded
with plasma could form a subspace bubble, just like our warp coils.  Since
there was no shortage of plasma energy floating all about, a subspace bubble
did indeed form and the asteroid jumped to warp 3.194.  It is leaving a
streak of plasma and particle exauhst behind it, which is what deceived us
into thinking it was a comet."

    "The 'coils' are rapidly moving around, constantly changing its velocity.
This is caused by all the explosions that are occurring as the antimatter
reacts with the matter in the comet.  Eventually, one of three things will
happen; matter will run out, antimatter will run out, or, before any of
those happens, the antimatter will destroy the coils, and it will just drop
out of warp and burn itself out.  We predict it has three or four hours, 5
tops. " said Kfarad, concluding his presentation.

---------------------
well...that's what I say at the briefing...so everyone will add their
reactions and the discussion....

gotta do my homework now...see ya...





--KFARAD
http://welcome.to/kfarad
kfarad@...
ICQ: 16156996
AOL IM: kfarad


begin 666 kfarad.vcf
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M(#DT,S V/3!$/3!!55-!#0I54DPZ:'1T<#HO+W=E;&-O;64N=&\O:V9A<F%D
M#0I%34%)3#M04D5&.TE.5$523D54.FMF87)A9$!E;6%I;"YM<VXN8V]M#0I2
@158Z,3DY.3 Q,C=4,#,P-#(V6@T*14Y$.E9#05)$#0H`
`
end



------------------------------------------------------------------------
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(NRPG: I apologize if you get this twice, it went to
the old list first by mistake, and not everyone may be
off that list.)




MD:07.0700
Scene: Counselors quarters

Toben was late.  He had woken up late, he had
breakfast late,
everything was late.  His first appointment of the day
was the new CO.
Oh god it was a terrifying thought.  Why is the CO
coming to see me?
What is so traumatic to a Captain that he has to go
and see a counselor?
This was the first time that Jolinar had a counseling
session with
someone so high up in the command structure.

<BEEP.  Counselor Jolinar, You have One minute fifty
three seconds
until your first appointment.>  Once again said the
Computer

"Thank You Computer. Where would I be without you?"

<Unable to reply,  please restate the question.>

"Disregard, Computer."

"Oh God, I better get going."  Jolinar began to walk
very quickly to
the door of his quarters, out the door,  and out in to
the hallway and
to the nearest turbolift.

Scene: Counselors Office

Jolinar walked through the door,  the low lighting,
sweet smells and
colourful decor of the office hit him immediately,
The smell of the
slowly burning potpourri incest sticks filled the room
with the
soothing smell of cinnamon.  A smell Toben fully
enjoyed

   The counselor barely had time to get ready when the
Door Chime went
off.

"Ah,  Captain Gatewood,  How nice of you to come,
please come in, Sit
down."  The Newest addition to the Federation's
Captains list strode
in and took a seat on the Sofa in the center of the
room.

"Can I get you anything Sir.  Or, should I call you
'SHER-DRICK',
or...?"

"Has our session begun then?"

"Oh, uh, sure, Captain."

"In here, in session, 'Cedric', will do.  That's how
it's pronounced.
And, at least until we're better acquainted, it's as
familiar as I
will be comfortable with. And if you could replicate
me a cup of black
coffee, since you asked. And if you could kill the
incense, it's a
little thick in here."

Toben stepped over to the table with the potpourri and
extinguished
the incense sticks. He replicated the Captain his
coffee, then handed
the Captain his coffee and sat down.

Toben looked relaxed, sitting on an overstuffed
pillow.

Gatewood sat on the low sofa, which held him in a
reclined position
probably more comfortable for sleeping than
conversation.

Gatewood touched his chin to his chest, and stretched
his neck
muscles, rotating his head in a circular motion. He
extended his arms
over his head and cracked his knuckles. Toben watched
him.

Gatewood kicked off his shoes and extended his toes,
lifted his feet
onto the sofa. He clasped his hands behind his head,
crossed his feet,
and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply.

"Ahh...that's better. Thanks for killing the incense,
Counselor. The
air in here is better already."

Toben looked at him curiously. No other CO he had
served as Counselor
for had seemed so relaxed in a first visit. This one
might keep him on
his toes.

"Cedric, I'm sure you're informed of the services a
counselor offers
to Senior Officers. Confidentiality is also one of the
aspects of this
service that Captains, when they're receptive to
counseling, come to
appreciate the most."

Gatewood's eyes remained closed. "I do appreciate
that, Counselor."

Gatewood looked relaxed; Toben saw no evidence that
Gatewood was
anything but comfortable. Toben was perplexed that the
Captain wasn't
saying anything, but was fighting the urge to engage
the Captain in
conversation, as the Captain seemed to be relaxing,
and would probably
begin talking when he was good and ready. At least
Toben hoped so.


Fifteen minutes in the session Gatewood opened his
eyes. "Can you
program some music in here? Something quiet, melodic,
like...some old
new age...you got anything like that programmed in
here?"

Toben nodded. "I think I do. Computer, search for mp3
file match
old-new-age, access and play at volume 1..."

<File found, initiating playback>

A harmless sound filled the room in stereophonic
sound.  A smile
formed on Gatewood's face. When it had ended, he
asked, "Could you
replay it?"

Toben said, "Of course, sir, err, I mean, Cedric.
Computer, loop mp3
file and replay"

Gatewood let the music begin playing. "This reminds me
of something I
heard on Bajor a while back. It was quite popular..."

Toben suggested, "Does it remind you of anything
else?"

Gatewood looked thoughtful. "I suppose it reminds me
of my shore leave
on Bajor...."

Toben asked, "Why don't you talk a little about that
shore leave, what
you did, you know..."

Gatewood opened his eyes, looked at the Counselor a
moment, then
closed his eyes again.

"We went surfing, sailing, swimming. We hung out at
the beach; ate
Bajoran pizza for breakfast; got sunburned -" he
looked at Toben.
"Yes, I got sunburned...for three weeks, if we weren't
on the water or
in the water, we were never more than a couple of
hundred meters from
the water. We stayed on the Kisevol peninsula, you
familiar with it?"

Toben nodded he was.

"It was beautiful. They did a great job rebuilding
everything there,
after the war. I don't think there's a building on the
penisula older
than 15 years. Anyway, we had a great time. Best three
weeks of my
life." Gatewood smiled at his memories.  "So far,
anyway."

Toben was picking up Gatewood's mood, which was
decidedly upbeat. "You
said 'we'. You had a companion on your shore leave?"

Gatewood opened his eyes again and sat up. "Yeah,
Melody Dallas. We
took our shore leave together and lived for three
weeks like we were
civilians and had never heard of 'Starfleet'. We had a
great time, and
then it was back to the real world." He was still
smiling. "We used to
say later, when the crap was hitting the fan, 'We'll
always have
Kisevol'."


Toben nodded. He made a note to check the Captain's
file later for any
mention of a Starfleet officer Melody Dallas. "Where
is she now?"

Gatewood's smile faded and was replaced with a
resigned expression.
"She's dead. She's gone."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Gatewood nodded. "Thanks, Counselor. It's been almost
two years, and a
lot has happened in that time. I've grieved, and I
miss her living in
my life. But I have good memories of her, when I think
of her, those
fill my thoughts."

"Do you want to talk about her death?"

Gatewood sighed. "Not really, not now. I've gone
through that process,
and I'm not resistant to revisiting it, just not now.
It tends to
remind me the world is not always the beautiful
wonderful place it can
be, and I'm reminded of that often enough. When I'm in
a good mood, I
don't like to spoil it.  Besides, I thought this was
just a 'get
acquainted' session..."

Toben nodded. "Sure, sure. Whatever you like, that's
your call."

Gatewood laughed. "Tell me, are you this agreeable
with everyone, or
are you just cutting me some slack because I'm the new
CO, eh?"
Gatewood picked up his coffee and took a drink. "Ah,
its cold now." He
didn't want to waste the energy replicating another
cup of hot coffee,
so he chugged it down. "I should have drank that
sooner." He grimaced
slightly.  "Next time, I think I'll ask for ice
water." He stood up.
Toben spoke up, "We still have some time, if you'd
like to discuss
anything else."

Gatewood walked around the room and sat back down on
the sofa.
"Personally?"

Toben sat patiently.

"This Romulan situation..."

"Captain Ramius' departure and its effect on the
crew?"

"Certainly, that's weighing on my mind. I trust you'll
keep me
apprised of any distress exhibited by any of the crew
at the loss of
their Captain after such an extensive changeover of
senior officers?"

"I have begun group counseling meetings with the
enlisted crew, to
assess their concerns along those lines. So far, I am
pleased with the
responsible attitudes expressed by the vast majority
of our crew."

Gatewood looked pleased. "It would be a credit to
Captain Ramius, for
his crew to be adaptable to this change. And it will
be an honor to
serve as Captain for such a dutiful crew."

Toben leaned forward. "There's something else then,
about this Romulan
situation, besides the Captain resigning command to
stay behind?"

Gatewood stopped smiling. "You know Alidar Jarok was
the strongest
voice in favor of the Alliance with the Federation.
Upon his death,
Senator Nnial s'Rulahna was due to succeed him as Head
Senator of the
Rihannsu Upper Senate. Nnial s'Rulahna was the
strongest opponent of
the Alliance. When it was discovered that Jarok had
been poisoned,
that's when the Senate had appointed a Special
Prosecutor to look into
possible suspects."

Toben nodded. "And Nnial s'Rulahna became the Special
Prosecutor's
prime suspect early on?"

Gatewood nodded. "Evidently that's true. I'm not sure
if the request
for Starfleet JAG assistance came from the Special
Prosecutors office,
Jarok's family, or the Senate. I do know that the
request came over
the objections of Nnial s'Rulahna and his supporters,
who had called
for a vote to rescind the request in the lower Senate,
a vote which
narrowly failed. But of course, now that the Special
Prosecutor has
formally charged Nnial s'Rulahna in Jarok's death,
we're not needed
anymore, and sent home with thanks."

"But who leads the Senate now?"

"A Senator named Gerar s'Tinahtin. He was Alidar
Jarok's chief
supporter. When Nnial s'Rulahna was arrested, his
position as the
hru'Deihu'hrrai, or Head Senator, was voided. The loss
of two
successive hru'Deihu'hrrai through the position open
to an election by
the Upper Senate members, and they chose Gerar
s'Tinahtin."

"Do we know much about him?"

"Well, you know, Romulan society is still fairly
closed to us. What
Starfleet Intelligence does gather, that I have access
to and can
share with you, is prefaced with their disclaimer that
Intelligence
reports, as far as internal Romulan matters goes, are
generally
considered to be less reliable than typical standards,
due to
'circumstances beyond our control'. But basically,
he's been around,
has few enemies, was possibly a 'lightweight', and, as
I said, was
Jarok's chief supporter. And as such, he's considered
a strong
supporter of the Alliance, and a 'friend' to the
Federation."

Toben stood up. "Then we're damn lucky they voted him
in, aren't we?"

Gatewood stood. And smiled. "Ah, I think you'll make a
good Counselor
for me. I feel better already, Toben."

It was Toben Jolinar's turn to smile. "Then this is an
ideal time to
end this session, wouldn't you agree, Cedric?"

Gatewood reached out and shook the man's hand. "Yes, I
agree. And, I
have two requests, for next time."

Toben picked up his Padd. He didn't want to trust to
memory his
Captain's requests, not after making such a good
impression in their
first session.  "Yes, sir. I'm, ready..."

"Kill the incense, at least half an hour before we
start. And get a
hot plate, or Mr. Coffee, in here, so I don't have to
drink cold
coffee, or waste resources reheating it."

Toben's skin might have flushed a bit, but Gatewood
couldn't be sure.
Toben entered the requests into his Padd. "I'll do my
best to comply,
Sir." His voice sounded less cheerful.

Gatewood smiled. "Great. I look forward to it, then.
Next week?"

Toben smiled. "Certainly, at your convenience, sir."

Gatewood nodded, turned and headed out the door.




Submitted by,

Colin Humphreys
Toben Jolinar Counselor
USS Thunderchild
and
Noah Rains
CO Sherdrick "Ced" Gatewood
USS THUNDERCHILD



------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD: 07.0818
Location: XO Office

George sat down and relieved that his soul was completely cleansed after his
conversation with the counselor.  Now was the time to get back to some
serious work and he started going over personnel files and wanting to get a
much wider picture now that he had to look at the entire crew as opposed to
just OPS.

He would be relying a great deal more on Lt. T'arik his second in OPS to
take some of the load off, him.  Even thought he was the XO George knew that
his duties their needed his time as well.

The young Vulcan had prove himself in the past as a reliable and competent
officer.  George continued to go over the requests from the science lab and
Stellar Cartography needed more time on the sensor array.

And approving Lt. Deitrahs requests for more power to run more intensive
tests on the Kfarad comet as it was going around the ship.

The Horta George thought had an uncanny ability to grasp and perceptually
sees things and think in a way, which made complete sense.  George figured
that he to come from his longevity.  He (Deitrahs) has seen things through
his senses and still sees things that we have yet to mimic with technology.

George began to look at the sensor logs and noticed that the comet was
sending what may be best described a theta band radiation, the levels were
within the normal levels per StarFleet regs but George was getting a weird
feeling and so he orders Lt. T'arik to keep a watchful eye on Kfarad's
comet.

"Quintela to Lt. T'arik"  "T'arik here"  "Mister T'arik I want to maintain a
complete spectrum analysis and run any scans on the lower subspace
frequencies Quintela out.

I don't want any surprises from this rock or whatever it is."  T'ark
complied with his request.  George then headed down to the shuttlebay to see
how things were holding up there.  Several minutes later George entered into
the shuttlebay and things were not in the in order apparently the shuttle
team crews were getting a little lax in there duties and George was about to
see to that correction very quickly.

George stops and crewman and asks where is the senior officer on duty.
"Crewman," "Yes sir" " Who is the duty officer here" George was not sure of
the schedule since his promotion to XO.  The crewman stated "Ensign Rigon
Tal- Junior sir."  "Thank you crewman."  George walked threw the shuttlebay
noticing the area and no officer in site as he continues he sees the cargo
hatch for the shuttlecraft Danube USS Atwell and in there was his officer
sitting at the CONN of the runabout.

George clears his throat and Rigon turns around and stands quickly "Ahh may
I help you sir."
"As a matter of fact Ensign you may, you can start by telling me why the
shuttlebay is looking like a heard of Klingon's drinking Bloodwine passed
through here. And way is this report indicating a marvelous status down
here."  The young Ensign looked as if he was beside himself "Well sir I was
<pause> trying to reorganize the shuttlebay to be more efficient."  "Ensign
I want this shuttlebay exactly as StarFleet regulations say that it should
be and I want a report in the morning indicating the exact configuration of
this shuttlebay and I want all logs indicating and supplies order or
requisitioned.  And I want you report to yourself to maintenance to see if
they need a hand in manually aligning the escape pods and making sure that
the docking rings for each one are fine. That assignment will commence once
your duties here are complete do I make myself clear ENSIGN."

The young officer took a deep swallow and replied "Yes Sir" George replied
in a stern voice "Dismissed" Rigon quickly left the shuttle and began to get
people to move the shuttle bay began to bristle with activity. George heads
out to inspect the rest of Ops areas. And then perhaps see the Doctor.


Respectfully Submitted
LtCDR XO George Quintela
USS Thunderchild


NRPG:  The ops officer is a child prodigy and needs a little "guidance from
a person he respects hopefully making him a better officer in the end.

Perhaps the Doctor would like to meet the new XO.


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MD: 07.0818
Location: Deck four

George having left holodeck 4 was on his way to see the new counselor; he
hadn't an opportunity to speak with him yet and thought now maybe a good
time as any.  George made a tap on his communicator.

"Quintela to Lt. Jolinar."  There was a long moment of silence and just he
was about to call to the counselor again he heard his response " Jolinar
here sir" George was curious "Is there anything wrong Lt." Jolinar trying to
explain his actions "Sorry sir I was just getting as few things taken care
of here."  George was going to swing by his office to personally meet him
"Lt. you would mind if I popped on by to speak and meet in person?"  Jolinar
responded somewhat hesitantly, " Ahhhh no sir that's no a problem come on by
my door is always open."  George replied "Great I'll be there shortly
Quintela out."

Jolinar had to clean up the place he wasn't expecting any visitors just yet
he had finished talking t the CO not too long ago and the place was a mess,
no problem it would only take a moment to clear up.  All of a sudden he
hears his door chime Toben hurries to straight up and announces "Come in"
Toben see the Commander entering.  George enters the room and walks over the
Toben extending his hand and saying, "Well it's to finally meet you
counselor. Well to the Thunderchild."  Toben replies in kind.

The counselor pointing to George to have a seat.  "Well Commander how can I
help you?"  George begins to explain "Well Counselor I am sure that the
Captain has explained to you how the crew must feel to all the recent
transitions that have occurred and I sure the Captain wants your full
attention to this matter I am her on a more personal level or requests. What
I mean is that I want to make sure that the Captain is not over stressed by
all that is happening and that's where you come in."

Toben already knew where the XO was heading "Let me guess Commander you want
me to make sure that the Captain is fine and that his head is clear and that
is able to fulfill his duties etc.etc. .  I don't mean to sound sarcastic
Commander you not the First XO who's made that request and when you have a
command of you own your XO will do the same" George began to smile and
realizing how transparent his request was.  "Was it that obvious." George
replied.  Toben assured him that was already in progress " I have set up a
schedule for the Captain and I on a somewhat regular basis duty permitting.
So there is no need to concern yourself Commander about that.  But since
you're here why don't we discuss your state of mind."

George had that uneasy feeling, that feeling about Doctors and Counselor's
"Ahhh well Lt. I must really be heading back to the bridge and Ahh take care
of some work."  Toben had heard the lines before.  "Jolinar to the Bridge"
Captain Gatewood answered "Gatewood here what is it Counselor?"  Toben while
looking at George and talking do you need Commander Quintela right now?"
George didn't where this was heading.  Captain Gatewood replied in a
noticeable chuckle in his voice "NO Lt. Take your time the Commander can
stay there as long as you need him."  George thought to himself Gee thanks
Captain and began to lie down on the couch. Toben had a smile on his face
"Well commander we ca we start."  George thought this is going to be a long
day.


Respectfully submitted
LTCDR XO George Quintela
USS Thunderchild

NRPG: George really doesn't like Doctors or Counselors for that matter but
will respect their intelligence and opinion.  As for asking to take care of
the Captain he doesn't want the Captain to be overburden or stressed out as
Command can do that to you.  His intentions are sincere.

Colin I hope that you don't mind the little piece that I did as you, I hope
you don't think that I made it look bad. I don't want it to come across that
way.


------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD 07 - 0900
location - Sickbay

Lt. Tmara Nerys walked in to her office and looked round. So far so good. She glanced at the desk and saw a pile of PADDs and knew immediately what her jobs for the day would be. but her first duty was to the crew so she walked through to the primary bay to see what was going on. Sickbay was empty again except from the technicians tidying up here and there.
she still hadn't quite got used to this job. the ship was very quite, and she'd had no problems. having completed all her medicals, including the captains without any trouble Tmara had realized that the job was probably going to need allot of work in research to keep occupied.
Walking back into her office, Tmara swung round the desk with ease and picked up the first padd. she wanted to clear a good proportion out of the way before the counselor met up with her for the final discussion of the medicals. She had two hours to clear the mountain out of the way. Easy.

MD: 07.0815
Location: Bridge, USS Thunderchild

Deitrahs shuffled onto the bridge 15 minutes before his shift started, after
being "off" for 48 hours to sleep.  Unlike humanoids, Horta do not sleep on a
daily basis, their physiological processes being radically different.  Still,
Horta did fatigue, and the occasional 48 hour nap did wonders for their
attitudes.

Sliding effortlessly into the custom helm module, it reviewed the turnover log
and was surprised that it hadn't been called when the unusual comet-like object
had been discovered.  Then again, it WAS just a pilot, and its relief had done
an adequate job of keeping them within range of the captain's distance to object
requests.  Just to feel like it had something to do, it adjusted the
Thunderchild's course to compensate for minor perturbations in the comet's
trajectory.

Satisfied with the ship's vector, Deitrahs then put on its astrogeologist "hat"
and started reviewing the flood of data gathered on the comet.  Pockets of
antimatter(?), a goodly amount of it... dilithium matrices trapping it.  How? 
No magnetic flux mentioned.  Fairly standard water-ice conglomerate body.  A
fairly large coma and lengthy tail.

Tail?

A grumble emitted from the Horta as this anomalous set of facts percolated
throughout its mind, and Gatewood, in the center seat, noticed it.  "Problem,
Mr. Deitrahs?"

"No problem, sir.  Just... I am uneasy."  It had activated its avatar projector,
and the little cartoon being, resembling a caricature of Albert Einstein,
stroked his chin and paced in depiction of deep thought.  Deitrahs spoke in a
soft German accent, saying "God has moved from playing dice mit der universe to
shootink marbles, und I do not like zis funky catseye in front of us."

Gatewood practically levitated out of the captain's chair.  Something made the
proverbially 'unshakable' rock uneasy?  Anything that could give a Horta reason
to be concerned was reason enough to be concerned himself.  Gatewood moved over
to the Horta's station and said,  "Explain."

"Well, sir, to be honest it's the kind of obvious thing that most people would
miss, given the other interesting things to look at.  We're out here in
interstellar space, right?  There's no stellar body of significant size within
ten light years of us, if I read my charts right."  Deitrahs unfurled one of its
manipulator arms and gestured at the large white plume on the viewscreen.

Gatewood's brow furrowed.  "That's correct."  Something crawled in the pit of
his stomach -- he didn't like where this was going.

The Horta's voder emitted a deep "grf" sound.  "Comets happen to be a hobby of
mine -- they're like ice cream.  Yummy.  Except this one's giving me what you'd
call an ice cream headache -- thinking about this thing hurts.  But I digress...
So, if that was a natural comet, behaving like a natural comet would behave out
here in the middle of nowhere, it wouldn't have a coma or a tail.  Out far from
a star, most comets are indistinguishable from asteroids and other rocky bodies.
They get their coma, or head, and tails from their approach to the system's
primary -- the heat from the star boils off gases, dust, and volatiles, which
get caught in the stellar wind and stream away from the star, resulting in the
tail effect.  There's actually two tails in a natural comet -- a dust tail,
which is what most people see, and an ion tail that's generally longer, but less
visible.  Both, though, stick backwards from the comet in relation to the star. 
That's the reason that comets look like they're going 'tail-first' after their
perihelion and they start heading back toward the system's Oort cloud or Kuiper
belt -- the tail is still being blown away from the star.  No star, no tail. 
Except *this* one has a tail!"

Gatewood shook his head, and patted the Horta reassuringly.  "Kfarad said that
the comet was jetting gases and dust due to the antimatter reactions going on
inside it."

"Sir, with all due respect to you and to Mr. Kfarad's scientific skills, I still
ain't buying into that.  Please keep in mind that I was designing, building,
and," it paused uncomfortably, "blowing up warp drive systems while your
grandparents were first dating.  Dilithium is nifty in that it can hold
anti-deuterium in its crystal lattices without reacting catastrophically, but
*only* in the presence of a strong magnetic field.  Where's that magnetic field?
It's not anywhere near the comet, that's for sure."  Myriad beeps and chirps
emitted from the Horta's console, and the main viewscreen changed to show the
comet's sensor profile.

"I can clarify a few things, though.  If we assume the least troubling
possibility -- that this is a harmless natural freak of nature kind of comet,
it's still unusual as all hell.  The nucleus of the comet -- the actual hunk of
stuff in the middle of the coma -- is over 50 kilometers in diameter.  A bit on
the high side for cometary bodies.  It should have a coma about a million
kilometers in diameter, but it's much tighter than that, possibly due to the
subspace artifact of the comet.  Gauging the velocity of the exhaust component
in relation to the comet's mass, the comet has been accelerating for a long time
-- on the order of two hundred years, but possibly longer if the thrust factor
is non-linear.  Given the presence of the low-level subspace field around it,
acceleration past lightspeed is possible -- unlikely, but possible.  The few
things we've ever encountered like this have generally been unstable little
bastards that blew themselves to bits before they got to any appreciable
fraction of lightspeed.  Cartography is still working on backtracing its course
to an origin point, but the fact they're taking so long indicates that it's
nothing in the nearby stellar neighborhood.

"The problem with using Occam's Razor here is that it's a sharp razor, and can
easily cut you if you're not careful.  I should talk about strange geological
phenomena, I know, but this is just TOO weird.  An ongoing antimatter reaction
in a hunk of matter this size will result, over time, in a raise in the average
mean temperature of the matter that would, if this thing was more than five
years old, give it an average temperature of about three million degrees
celsius.  Unless this comet was very recently formed, the mass to heat ratio
just breaks all over the place, even accounting for the fact that deep space is
a strong heat sink.

"So we have an object that needs to be very, very old in order to make
cosmological sense, but is exhibiting behavior that requires it to be a very,
very recent phenomenon.  Since it doesn't fit any model of what we'd consider
normal, we have to start theorizing in the realm of the abnormal -- as Holmes
said, once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever's left, however
improbable, must be the truth.  Two theories spring to mind immediately -- one,
that it was constructed and/or put in motion by another intelligence, and two,
that it is something else aside from a comet, possibly an artifact or vessel of
some type.

"Sir, I am normally not an alarmist, *but*... there's enough things not right
about that thing that I have a very bad feeling about it.  If it continues on
this course, it's going to pass close, again on that cosmic scale, to many of
the Federation's core worlds.  If the worst is true and it's travelling with
eventual hostile intent, there's hundreds of billions of lives at risk.  There's
an old Horta knowledge glyph, dating back to the earliest day of our
civilization, that best translates as 'hope for the best, but plan for the
worst'."

Deitrahs entered some more commands, and the diagram on the screen was replaced
with another -- a technical schematic for a last-ditch piece of equipment that
all starships carried.  "The captain is aware that we carry a subspace
distortion missile for situations where a ship is escaping at warp and needs to
be disabled.  We can drop this rock out of warp and study it closer -- the field
around it is distorting some sensor readings that Kfarad's group is trying to
work around as we speak.  If nothing else, we delay any problems this thing can
cause within Federation space.  However, because of the fragile nature of this
thing, there's a not inconsiderable chance that dropping it out of warp will
rupture the delicate balance of the antimatter/dilithium suspension.  Given that
there's a few hundred thousand TONS of antimatter over there, it's got a chance
to cause one nasty bang when it drops -- equivalent to a few million photon
torpedoes detonating all at once in one spot.  It'd make the Praxis Incident on
Qo'nos look like a damp firecracker.  Some scratch figuring tells me there's
also a possibility that the explosion could cause a subspace rift to form that
would make the Badlands look like prime real estate.

"So we find ourselves trapped in the Simpson Paradox -- we're damned if we do,
and damned if we don't."

**********
Respectfully submitted by
Lt. Deitrahs, FCO/NAV/Comet Eater
USS Thunderchild
**********

NRPG: Like Deitrahs, I like comets (though I've never eaten one), and have
studied 'em for a long, long time.  I love the idea of a warp-driven snowball,
and figure we could use a bit of a moral dilemma...

There's a few places that we can go from here... ignore it, blow it up and pray,
start carving it into pieces gently, or pull another solution out of our hats
and save the day.

Note that, at least in some versions of Starfleet's fictional universe,
antimatter and dilithium are both quite expensive even in the 25th century...
the crew could share quite a finder's fee for this little rock.  We just need to
figure out how to stabilize it.  <evil laugh>

(I really, *really* hope I didn't break your story, Kfarad... I started this as
a lecture on comets, and it just grew out of control!  <grin>)

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LOCATION : BRIDGE
MD: 7.0730

     Sitting in the center bridge chair calmly, with
both arms on
stretched on the massive throne's armrests, Kfarad
stared at the moving
starscape as they cruised towards Saladin, well out of
Romulan territory, a
ways out of the neutral zone, and on the outskirts of
Federation space.
Ever since the Captain has left the ship, the senior
officers have had to
put in extra time to fill his absence because they
were still short on one
bridge officer.
     Checking the time, Kfarad noticed his shift was
almost over.  Just then
Captain Gatewood stepped in from the Turbolift into
the Bridge.  His eyes
were red and he appeared very tiered.  No doubt
adjusting to the new burdens
he is put under with his new role as ship's captain.
Kfarad stood.  "Good
Morning, sir."
    "Good Morning, Lieutenant.  Report?"
    "We are 3 light years into federation space.  At
current course and speed
we should be arriving at Saladin in fourteen hours.
No out-standing events
to report, Sir."
    "Very well.  I am going to my ready room I should
be over to take over
the bridge shortly."  said Gatewood, exiting the
bridge.
     Kfarad went over to the currently unoccupied
science station and
performed one last sensor sweep before he retired off
duty for the day.  The
LCARS menu complied smoothly as Kfarad tapped in
commands and codes for a
four minute Omni-directional level B sensor sweep.
This was standard
science department procedure on the Thunderhcild; a
level B sensor sweep at
least in the beginning and end of every shift.  Kfarad
tapped his fingers on
the side of the console as he waited for the results.
    Four minutes later a beep sounded.  Kfarad narrowed
his eyebrows, "wow,
wow, wow...what's this? this wasn't here before..." He
said, his fingers
flying over the padd, making sure that the readings
were correct, and
directing sensors to collect more data on the anomaly.
  Gatewood walked into
the bridge and noticed Kfarad's slightly worried look
as he walked over to
the
science console and leaned over Kfarad, who was still
collecting data.
"What's up?" he asked.
    "Still collecting data, sir.  I ran a last sensor
sweep for the day, and
suddenly sensors picked up this comet..." said Kfarad,
still more
concentrated in typing and reading the data.
    "And what's so special about this comet..." said
Gatewood, smiling
slightly.
    "Well," said Kfarad, "It is traveling faster than
light! at least that's
what sensors tell us..."
    "Is that plausible?" asked Gatewood, "How would a
comet create a warp field around itself?"
     Kfarad typed and read data for a couple more
seconds, then turned to Gatewood.  "In order for it to
be able to generate a warp field, it would
need very large amounts of energy...but I don't know
how the comet accelerated to this speed.  There is no
record of comets naturally going this fast."
    Gatewood turned to the ensign at Conn.  "Take us
out of warp.  Move closer to the comet, but keep us
within 2 million kilometers of it."

Then he turned to Kfarad. "Send a sensor probe for a
closer look...try to figure out what may have caused
this anomaly to occur.  I will notify Starfleet of our
delay.  And if you can determine this whether this is
a natural phenomena or was engineered or otherwise
stimulated.

"Comm, get me a link to Saladin Station, the Blue
Fleet XO. Patch it to the ready room".

Gatewood turned to the XO. "Quintela, I'll be in the
ready room."

Gatewood notified the BLUEXO of his Science dept.'s
preliminary report and that the Thunderchild had
dropped out of warp to investigate,per standard
operating procedures.

As he was finishing his conversation with BLUEXO, the
Counselor was trying to message him about an
appointment for a counseling session.

Gatewood waited until the communication woth BLUEXO
was complete, then got back to Tobin Jolinar. "Sorry
about that, Counselor, you were saying you have a time
for me?"

"Yes, Captain, do you want me to schedule you for
tomorrow or the next day after, which ever you
prefer."

Gatewood checked his padd calendar for other shceduled
appointments with Thunderchild staff. He wanted to get
to know the crew as their Captain, and this return
home seemed like a good time to get started.
"Counselor, it looks like early morning is shot. I
have sometimes between 1100 hours and 400 hours
tomorrow. Get back to me with a definite time today
and I'll enter it in my calendar."

"I'll get back to you shortly, Sir."

Gatewood comm badge chirped, indicating there was a
message waiting. "Got to go now, OCunselor." He tapped
the pin.

=/\= "Kfarad to Captain Gatewood"

"Yes, Lieutenant? go ahead..."

"I believe I have come up with a theory about the
comet...If you will join me in the Science Lab?"

"Acknowleged.  I am on my way..."

In the science lab...
As Gatewood walked into the science lab, he saw Kfarad
and another Junior science officer working on a
console.  When Kfarad noticed him walking in,
he motioned Gatewood to come over and look at their
report.  Kfarad typed a command, and a cross section
of the comet appeared on the viewscreen.


((NRPG: I've made a diagram of the comet, you can see
it at: http://members.tripod.com/ussthunderchild/images/comet.gif I still
have to upload it though))

Kfarad explained. "As you can see, this comet contains pretty large
amounts of anti-matter.
That in itself is pretty darn unusual, but there have
been numerous cases of
anti-matter traces found in comets before.  It is not
extremely abnormal or
outstanding, but can potentially be dangerous.
Of course, the antimatter is, or shall I say, was
deposited in dilithium
crystal banks.  That is what has kept it from reacting
with the normal
matter a long time ago.  But for some reason there was
a crack in the
dilithium bank.  As a result, antimatter poured out,
and reacted with the
comet head.  Naturally, this creates huge amounts of
energy.  But again,
there have been record of comet explosions like this
before caused by an
antimatter leak.  The unique part about this incident
was the patterns on
the outside shell of the comet; they actually acted
like warp field coils on
starships, and allowed it to enter into subspace."


     Gatewood was listening intently, stroking his chin
with his thumb and the side of his index finger.
"Fascinating..." He said. "but what I don't
understand is how the patterns on the outside shell
formed and broke to create a stable warp field?"


Kfarad replied,   "Well, it is not stable, by all
means, but I know what you mean.  We
ourselves have not been able to come up with an
explanation for that yet.
We have still not ruled out the possibility that this
was done artificially,
but it is certainly possible that these gaps in the
shell are natural.
There is an infinite amount of pattern combinations to
create a warp field."

Gatewood looked at the display a few moments. "There's
no previous record of this particular comet in the
database?"

"No, sir."

"All right. Let's study this a little more from here.
Keep me informed of any changes in your findings, or
any conclusions you interpret from your data. I'd be
interested if you could estimate how long this comet
has been traveling at warp, and how much longer its
got to run."

"Aye, sir." said Kfarad, and turned back to his subordinate as they
continued to work.
It was Gatewood's first time in the science lab since he came aboard the
Thunderchild.  He thought that was kind of weird, but then again, he has
only been on the ship for a little more than a week.  He looked around the
lab, smelled its clinical air, listened to the soft hum and automatic beeps
in the background and felt blinded by its bright white tidiness. He took
another deep breath of the artificial air, and walked out of the lab.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------
NRPG: so this is our final little diversion of this trip.  Check the link to
the comet pic tomorrow afternoon it should be uploaded by then

Submitted by,

Noah Rains &
--KFARAD
http://welcome.to/kfarad
kfarad@...
ICQ: 16156996
AOL IM: kfarad




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MD:06.1209
SCENE: TC BRIDGE:

Jolinar was on the Bridge chatting to Mr Quintela

"So Mr Quintela,  What do you think of your new CO?"  George drew in breath
about to speack when
<BEEB.  Counselor Jolinar,  You are now 9 minutes 54 seconds over due for a
meeting with Commander
Gatewood.> said the icey monotone voice of the ships computer.

"Oh No!,  Mr Quintela we will have to finish this later."  He imediately
lept up and walked very quickly to the CO's ready room door.

>"Sorry, Commander, I was preoccupied with my
>note-taking prior to our appointment. It won't happen
>again."

Gatewood pulled out a time piece,  Then he looked in to Jolinar's eyes,
Jolinar started to think

**Um,  Why is he looking at me,  Ah,  he's trying to figure me out...... No
That not it,
thinking of something,  God he hasn't said a thing to me and he is already
shown he's compicated, The perfect CO. Humm,  I see a job opertunity here.**

<from Noah's post>

Gatewood sighed. "I'll hold you to that, then. Please
sit down."

'Ced' handed a Padd to Tobin Jolinar. "I've prepared a
memo for you explaining my concerns about the
well-being of our crew.  With the changeover in Senior
Officers, I want you to interview the junior officers
and enlisted crew, and assure those who need
assurance, that their lives are in good hands,
and...well, its all in the memo. I expect you to keep
me updated on your progress, and notified of any
potential problems."

Tobin Jolinar nodded in agreement. "I will get started
on scheduling interviews as soon as I return to my
office, no problem. I am also here for you, Sir. This
change in command is a personal change for you as well
as the crew, and you might be surprised how much help
a few counseling sessions could be."

"No surprise. I learned of the benefits of a good
counselor while on the USS New Heights. If you are
half as good as Counselor as Lt. Heidi Klin was,
that'll be acceptable. As a minimum, of course."
Gatewood smiled.

"Then should I schedule a regular appointment for
you?"

"Weekly. One hour. Subject to duty demands, of course.
If we have to reschedule any appointments, I expect
you to keep on top of it."

"Very well, Commander. I shall notify you as soon as I
have the first appointment scheduled."

"Fine, just don't make it before tomorrow morning. I
have a full day ahead of me today. Now, if you'll
excuse me, I have other duties to attend to. And, by
the way, welcome aboard." Gatewood smiled and shook
the Counselor's hand. "You're dismissed."


<New Material>

With that, Toben walked out the ready room door and whent into the
Turbolift.

SCENE:Counselors office.

Lieing down on the sofa,  Jolinar began to read the notes the Commander had
writen.
It was just an explanation as to why he wanted me to intivew most of theh
crew.
    He Stood up from the sofa and walked over to the replicator,  "Computer,
Jabalian fudge cake,  and a tamiran froth."  The Computer compled and there
in the replicatior, appeard the delicious fudge cake,  standing about 10cm
high.  He Sat down at the desk,  and began to schedule some appointments,
starting with 'Ced' Gatewood. He typed it out and sent the appointment memo
to Gatewood.
"I think,  that 10:00hrs the day after tommorow would be a good idea."
He then began to sit back and read the names of entire crew,  a lot of them
were junior officers,  and if Toben was going to follow the order he had
been given,  he would have to interview them all.  On the other hand he had
psycological profiles to build,  ao he would have to interview them anyway.
He say back in his chair and began to think of the people in the senior
staff he could interveiw.  On the top of his list was Quintela,  He had been
working as XO/20ops for the past few days,  so the stress must be getting to
him by now.  Then he conciderd having a word with Lt. Deitrahs but then
conciderd the fact that he didn't have anything wrong with him,  so there
was no point in a counseling session.  Then there was the CMO.  Toben had
not met the CMO yet,  where was she?

MD:06.1757
Becomeing extremly bord with nothing to do,  he looked at his cronometer
hanging on the wall.  He Only had three more minutes on duty so he figured
he would go and enjoy himself

"Computer,  Is there a Holodeck available?"
"affermative,  Holodeck 2 is vacant."
"Computer book time on holodeck 2 for one hour starting from the moment i
arrive.

He Went to his quarters to change into a climbing out fit and then left for
the holodeck

When he arrived at the holodeck, looking forward to a good workout,  he
enterd the large room and began to submit commands to the Computer.

"Computer,  Begin program Jolinar four seven one,  climbing senario one."

The Computer degan to make little bleeps and then,  the area around him,
changed from the holo-grid to the base of Mt. Kenya On Earth's African
continent.  He then began to hike up the Mountain,  in the scorching heat of
Earths sun.  As simulated by the Holodeck.

Submitted by,

Colin Humphreys
CNS Lt. Toben Jolinar
USS THUNDERCHILD









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Could you email me with contact info, ICQ# and email info so that we get in
touch.


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MD 6.1710
SCENE:Ready Room


Capt. 'Ced' Gatewood was studying the Padd with
'slotty's' bio on it when the officer walked into the
Ready Room.

Gatewood stood. "Have a seat, Lt. Richards."

Slotty sat down quickly. He had no idea what he'd
done, in fact, he couldn't think of anything he'd done
wrong. And he hated to be called Lt. Richards.

"Captain?" he asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Lt. you did not. But someone did."

"Sir? I don't follow?"

"It's all right, Lt. May I call you 'slotty'?"

Richards smiled a bit then pulled it back. "I actually
would prefer that you do sir."

"Ah, then I read that part correctly."

"Yes, sir. In my file?"

Gatewood nodded and sat down next to the officer. "You
see, usually, an officers personnel file tells me what
I need to know about the officer. Sometimes, although
I'd say too often, actually, the personnel files I've
seen as an XO and now Captain, tell me more about the
AI systems that present them than the officer they're
about."

"Yes, sir."

"Relax, slotty. You can help me."

"How sir? I'll do what ever I can."

"We can suggest amendments to these files, but we
can't actually change them. Otherwise, Starfleet would
find itself inundated with glorious personnel files
extolling the virtues of every crewmember in
Starfleet. I'm going to ask the new XO to examine all
the personnel files for the ship, and highlight any
that display these inconsistencies. It's something I
would have done on the way back to Saladin Station, if
I hadn't been bumped up. I want you to engineer a plan
for accessing the Service records and all available
data on the officers with data corruption for
deficiencies in their personnel files, so that at
least we will have another data source that is more
reliable in providing relevant information.  I know
its not exciting stuff, but doesn't it beat manually
realigning the torque sensors?"

"I suppose it does, sir. I'll coordinate with Lt.
Quintela then." * Please dismiss me, Captain. *

"You'd better make that LCDR Quintela."

"Yes, sir." * Was this almost over? *

"One more thing, slotty."

"Yes, sir?"

"Something one of your former commanders has in your
file. I don't know if it pertains to you or not,
but..." Gatewood hesitated then went on, quoting "-
tends to be outgoing and make friends easily;
sometimes over steps his boundaries when it comes to
the chain of command; will not tolerate people
dismissing his idea's because of his youth..."

He put the padd down on his desk. "There's more but
that's the gist of it. As to youth, aside from Lt.
Deitrahs, most of us are between 25 and 30 years old,
as you are. I take it that was an old comment from
Academy. Now, I'm not going to tell you something
stupid like your 56 years old, act your age. You look
and act like a man in his 20's, you'll fit in here.
You shouldn't assume age discrimination at work here
if an idea of yours is rejected. That will not be a
problem on this ship, correct?"

"Correct, Sir."


"And I apologize if Captain Ramius has already had
this conversation with you, but until you can get it
expunged from your official record, expect to get it
from every CO you serve for here on out. Overstepping
your boundaries when it comes to the chain of
command..." Gatewood paused.

Slotty finished the sentence for him. "...'will not be
tolerated'.

Gatewood smiled, flashing his white teeth. "Ah, you've
heard it. Believe in it, and we'll get along fine.
Dismissed."

Lt. Richards left the Ready Room, leaving Gatewood
alone.

There were times when he hated to do it. Be the
bastard.  There were days when he just wanted to sit
back and watch the stars fly by from right to left,
nights when he'd rather be watching the ball spin
around a roulette wheel. And say to hell with the
reports.  There were times when he was tempted to go
easy, let the slacker slide.  But it wasn't doubt that
prompted those temptations, but tiredness. He stood by
his record. As XO on the USS Neimann, over half of the
officers he weeded out off the ship for poor
performance were no longer in Starfleet after
receiving unsatisfactory reviews from their subsequent
superiors on other ships.

He had to be firm with all of them at the beginning.
You never knew who would crack under the slightest
pressure. Maybe none of them would. That suited him
fine. Better to get the bullshit out of the way and
know who you could count on.


Submitted by,

CO 'Ced' Gatewood
USS Thunderchild

Aka Noah Rains


[NRPG: LCDR Quintela; slotty; Cunselor; please follow
up on these. Kfarad, you have your quest for our
little diversion. Deitrahs, work your magic. ]


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[NRPG: Think of this as either a minor retcon or the
edited conclusion of a joint post. George, you came
pretty close to what I was trying to say, just thought
I'd elaborate a little on Gatewood's character.]




MD 7.0900
SCENE, Captain's Ready Room


Quintela continued, "I hope that may dispel any
perceptions or misgivings you may have had of me. And
know that you have an XO who will work for you and the
Thunderchild
at all times."

George was about to continue with more but Gatewood
interjected.

" Very good Lieutenant. You have made your point.  I
may not have articulated things very well. If that is
so, it is my error that you missed my point. If I had
any misgivings about your fitness to be XO, I would
have refused to offer it to you."

He let that sink in.

"If I had a perception that you could not do the job,
I would not have asked you to consider it."

Gatewood paused again, hoping his new XO understood
what he was trying to say. "Now I don't know what kind
of  officers you've served under before, but I will
not blow smoke up your ass and tell you how great
you'll be you're first day on the job. I will tell
you, since you've accepted this position, you'll work
harder at this than any other position on the ship. Or
you will fail."

Gatewood continued. "I have not judged you yet, Lt. I
do not have any misgivings towards you, and I demand
that you will never give me cause to develop any. Is
that more clear, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Sir." Quintela was already tense at what he had
perceived as a slight by Gatewood.  The fact that
Gatewood had not embraced him as the new XO without
reservation had wounded his pride. He did not yet see
what Gatewood had to lose if George was mediocre (a
ridiculous prospect anyway. He was just excited about
his overdue promotion. And here was the new Captain,
unpleasantly reminding him that the XO's job was not
his automatically and could be lost due to poor
performance of his duties.

"Lt., its more than obvious to all of us your
enthusiasm in assuming the position of 1st Officer.  I
feel that you have the potential to be a fine XO. I
just need to sense you have great respect for the
demands of the job, and the demands of your Captain.
My demands on your time, energy and skills will be
considerable, perhaps at times unbearable."

Gatewood looked at George as if trying to find answers
he needed.

"I gave you a choice, just as I was given a choice.
Now we both have the chance to prove ourselves correct
in the choices we've made."

Quintela had gotten the message. Gatewood wasn;'t
looking for words of assurance from the new XO, he was
looking for excellence in performance. "Yes, sir." Was
all the new CO required.

"Good. That will be all..."

George nods and turns to leave the room.

Capt. Gatewood, "You have the bridge Commander..."
George stops dead in his tracks and turns to look at
the Captain and smiles. Gatewood replaces his serious
look with a smirk.

George turns and says "Aye Sir, Thank you."   And
heads to the bridge.







Minor retcon submitted by,

CO 'Ced' Gatewood
USS Thunderchild

aka Noah Rains

------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD 6.1210
SCENE:Ready Room


"Sorry, Commander, I was preoccupied with my
note-taking prior to our appointment. It won't happen
again."

'Ced' Gatewood looked at his timepiece. The Counselor
was ten minutes late. Gatewood looked into the Trill's
eyes.  And wondered what he was seeing.

A good Commander had to be a good judge of character.
Know who would benefit from a dressing down and who
would benefit the most from being given some slack.
Trill's, on the other hand, sometimes gave Gatewood
headaches with all the past lives rattling around
inside them.

Gatewood sighed. "I'll hold you to that, then. Please
sit down."

'Ced' handed a Padd to Tobin Jolinar. "I've prepared a
memo for you explaining my concerns about the
well-being of our crew.  With the changeover in Senior
Officers, I want you to interview the junior officers
and enlisted crew, and assure those who need
assurance, that their lives are in good hands,
and...well, its all in the memo. I expect you to keep
me updated on your progress, and notified of any
potential problems."

Tobin Jolinar nodded in agreement. "I will get started
on scheduling interviews as soon as I return to my
office, no problem. I am also here for you, Sir. This
change in command is a personal change for you as well
as the crew, and you might be surprised how much help
a few counseling sessions could be."

"No surprise. I learned of the benefits of a good
counselor while on the USS New Heights. If you are
half as good as Counselor as Lt. Heidi Klin was,
that'll be acceptable. As a minimum, of course."
Gatewood smiled.

"Then should I schedule a regular appointment for
you?"

"Weekly. One hour. Subject to duty demands, of course.
If we have to reschedule any appointments, I expect
you to keep on top of it."

"Very well, Commander. I shall notify you as soon as I
have the first appointment scheduled."

"Fine, just don't make it before tomorrow morning. I
have a full day ahead of me today. Now, if you'll
excuse me, I have other duties to attend to. And, by
the way, welcome aboard." Gatewood smiled and shook
the Counselor's hand. "You're dismissed."


submitted by,

CO 'Ced' Gatewood
USS Thunderchild

aka Noah Rains

------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD 6.1300
SCENE: Bridge, USS Thunderchild

George had just left the new captains office, knowing that he was under a
lot of pressure and that Fleet would be watching to see if their decision to
promote him to Captain would be the correct decision.

George walked towards the turbolift and chirped "Deck 4" the computer
complied with his request.  All the while George was thinking about what the
Captain had said to him and he felt a little unnerved by it.  It appeared
that the Captain did not trust his role or feel comfortable with him being
his XO.

George just shrugged it off, and thought it's gotta be the stress, why
wouldn't I be a good XO.  George felt that he needed to prove himself to the
Captain.
"That's I guess that I have to do, I'm gonna prove that I have what it takes
to be a good first officer".

  George realized that the crew really did not get to know the senior staff
for too long and that the sudden departure of Captain Ramius was sudden and
somewhat cold and many may have been let down by him.  But change is
inevitable and some deal with it better than others and that is something
that the crew is going to have to accept.

Reaching his quarters George goes to the replicator and orders "Jolt" the
computer chirps and states. <That it not a valid selection please supply
necessary components or try another selection>. George remembered that the
USS MacArthur's replicators in his room had that info and he would have to
program that beverage into the computer.  With the ingredients inputted into
the computer George orders it again.

George decides to go to bed and think the Captain request.


MD 7. 0900
Scene: Ready Room.

George walks towards the Captain's ready room and adjusts his uniform.
George then presses the door chine and here Captain Gatewood call out
"Enter". George goes in and stands at attention. The Captain looking at his
computer console George wonders why he has not yet acknowledged him.
Gatewood appears to be in deep thought and while still not looking at him
begins to speak "Well Lt. Have you thought of your decision on the XO
position."

George firmly says, "YES I have Sir." Gatewood finally looks at him with a
serious face and awaits George's response.  "Sir may I first speak freely
Sir." Gatewood raises his hands and states "Of course Lt. I just the two of
us in here."

George looks at the Captain and begins his speech. " Let me first say that I
have always been a dedicated officer to StarFleet and to the Superior
officer I have had the pleasure to serve under.  I have learnt a lot from
them and at times tried to mold myself after a few of them.

But I have never been a person who has 'Gone with the flow' or agreed for
the sake of looking good or seeking favor from anyone.  I will speak my mind
and I will disagree with you and other people from time to time.  But I can
promise this I WILL respect your decision and I WILL follow them to the
letter, because you are the Captain and I am the XO."  George pauses to see
that the Captain is all-attentive "I also want to remind the Captain that I
WILL always look out for your safety as well as the crew. Those are my top
priority"

" I hope that may dispel any perceptions or misgivings you may have had of
me. And know that you have an XO who will work for you and the Thunderchild
at all times."

George was about to continue with more but Gatewood interjected." Very well
Lt. you have made your point I can see that I may have misjudged you and
that I have not given you the respect or the opportunity to prove yourself.
I feel that you would be a fine XO."  "Now that I have put that behind us,
lets focus on getting to SB Saladin to await Fleet orders and take on some
crew."

Gatewood looked at George as if trying to penetrate his soul and see if the
eyes can really lead the man's soul.  Ced tells George "That will be all" As
George nods and turns to leave the room Ced has on last thing to say to his
new XO, you have the bridge Commander!"  George stops dead in his tracks and
turns to look at the Captain and smiles and sees a smirky face come over
Gatewood and with that George turns and says "Aye Sir, Thank you."   And
heads to the bridge.



Respectfully submitted

XO LTCDR George Quintela
USS Thunderchild


------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD 6.1100
SCENE:Ready Room, USS Thunderchild

They were leaving Romulan space approaching the
Neutral Zone boundary at Warp 3, in compliance with
Romulan stipulations.

'Ced' Gatewood was reading reports sent from Blue
Fleet's XO pertaining to the Thunderchild and the
shift in command. 2O Lt. George Quintela was at the
door, which was open.

"You wanted to see me, Cap'n?"

Cap'n. That was going to take a little getting used
to. "Come in, Lieutenant. Have a seat."

Quintela sat down.

"May I call you George? Good. Then I'll get right to
the point, George. We're in a state of flux right now.
Do you see anything wrong with the Thunderchild?"

Quintela looked a little confused. "No, other than the
little trouble we had with the Warp Core in orbit, and
of course the problems we had getting out of dock the
first time we tried to leave Saladin Station...all
systems are currently functioning within accepted
parameters."

Gatewood nodded. "Yes. Yet here we are in command of a
ship, with an experienced crew, looking to their
senior officers, and not seeing one among them that
has been a part of the Thunderchild history more than
two weeks. Now that their Captain Ramius has left
them, for undisclosed personal reasons, I'd expect
there may be some who will feel, shall we say, less
secure? Or how about freaked out?" Gatewood waited for
Quintela's response.

Quintela said, "This is a Starfleet crew, Cap'n.
They've been trained for contingencies like this..."

Gatewood waved his hand indicating for Quintela not to
bother. "Its just you and me in here, George. I don't
need a pep talk or a cheerleader. I need an XO who
keeps his mind open and his eyes on the ball. I walk
the corridors of this ship. I can smell the fear in
some of this crew. They know none of us, and suddenly,
their lives are not in the hands of the men they've
come to know, respect and trust, but in the hands of
strangers. I don't need special powers to smell the
sweat mixed with urine in the air that lingers for
days in engineering after a warp core almost breaches.
Its in the carpet, its in the fabric on the walls.
Sure, it's exhilarating to them. They survive, they
get drunk and laugh about how close they came to
death. They live down there. To many of them, the air
smells funny up here. But not to all."

Gatewood paused again. Quintela looked about to say
something, but seemed unsure what to say.

Gatewood spared him. "This job has fallen to me, I
don't kid myself for one minute that I was due a ship
of my own. Now the XO job is falling to you. Don't kid
yourself for one minute that you deserve it either.  I
didn't tolerate slackers as XO, and I certainly won't
as CO.  As long as you understand that, and can
perform your duties accordingly, we'll get along
fine."

Quintela seemed to brighten a little bit. He had begun
to wonder if Gatewood was going to name him the XO.
"I'll do my best sir."

Gatewood stood. "With some jobs, that's all you can
ask of a man. In this situation, however, you'll not
only have to do your best, George, but you'll have to
do the best job that can be done. At this point, only
you can decide if you're best will be good enough for
me. Once you accept the responsibilities of XO, that
decision will become mine. This crew deserves that at
the least. If you have any doubts you're up to the
task, you're better off remaining 2O and Chief
Operations Officer. Because if this doesn't work out,
there's no going back. At least not on this ship. I
want you to think this through. You are a highly
valued 2O and Ops Chief. It's not going to make a big
difference what you decide, until we've crossed the
Neutral Zone tomorrow. I'm sure you could answer me
right now. But I really want you to think it over, and
give me your decision tomorrow by 0900. Also, there is
no replacement for you at OPS. I need you there for
your duty shift, at least until we get additional crew
at Saladin."

Gatewood stepped over to Quintela and placed a hand on
the man's shoulder. "I trust you make the choice
that's best for all of us, George. Search yourself."
He removed his hand from the Lt.'s shoulder. "That's
it for now. I'm supposed to meet with the counselor in
an hour to discuss the crew's needs, and have a
scheduled commlink conference with the Commodore in
three hours...and a meeting with Lt. Deitrahs."

Lt. Quintela stood up and reached for Gatewood's hand,
and shook it. "Thank you, Sir. I won't let you down."

"0900, George. Tell me tomorrow at 0900." Gatewood
walked towards the bridge, leading Lt. Quintela out of
the Ready Room. Quintela returned to the OPS console,
and 'Ced' Gatewood returned to his Ready Room, this
time closing the door.



submitted by,

CO Sherdrick 'Ced' Gatewood
USS Thunderchild

aka Noah Rains



------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD 5.1400
Location: Captain's Ready Room

The Thunderchild cruised back to Saladin station at a moderate, but not
breakneck speed.  The crew was still adjusting to the change in command --
Ramius' reputation was a large part of the cachet that made the Thunderchild a
desirable assignment for officers who wanted to learn unconventional command
skills.  The recent events on Romulus, though, had thrown the ship off kilter.

Fleet's desire to keep the ship as unchanged as possible meant that the new
captain, "Ced" Gatewood, was to promote from within to fill slots wherever
practical. Quintela's move to First Officer was a no-brainer -- he was the
highest ranking officer on board, and from at least one point of view, had
enough time in rank to more than justify the change.

Second officer... now there was a sticky wicket.  He had a few qualified
officers who could technically be put into place, but one real candidate stood
out as more than deserving of the slot.  The majority of the crew, Gatewood
mused, also had their favorite for the slot.  As Fate would have it, Ced's
choice and the crew's were one and the same.

He got down to business, addressing the large misshapen boulder in his ready
room.  "I suppose you know why I asked you to come see me, Deitrahs."

The Horta rippled merrily, and its voder chirped out, "One hears things."

The more he dealt with it, the more Gatewood found this unusual officer to his
liking.  Perhaps it was overcompensation on the Horta's part, but Deitrahs
really tried to get along with everyone on the ship.  **Good quality in a
second,** Gatewood thought.  It had a wicked sense of humor that kept the ship's
lounge in stitches during its off-shift time, and as it had proven on Romulus,
was willing to do essentially anything requested of it.

Gatewood's opinion was shared by every commander Deitrahs had ever served with.

Still, Ced found some aspects of the Horta's mentality to be incomprehensible. 
He couldn't at all comprehend how a lump of minerals could gain sentience and a
sense of humor.  He wondered what it was like to have millenia to look forward
to, instead of mere decades.  He wondered what people looked like through the
Horta's odd ways of sensing.

"Then you've no doubt heard the talk that you're being considered for the second
officer's slot.  I wanted to get your input on the whole thing before making my
decision."

"Umm," it replied warily.  "I think this is a good time for me to try out a new
toy."  The air above the Horta rippled a bit, and a small, cartoon-like figure
appeared over its body.  "Kfarad and I whipped this up.  I find that being what
I am, it's hard to convey emotions without gestures.  I have noticed that
Humanoids are put off by not having gestures and body language to read along
with the conversation."

Gatewood raised his eyebrows and chuckled.  "Looks OK so far."

"Great.  Maybe now you won't feel like you're talking to a brick wall."

Gatewood laughed again.  "Anytime now, Lieutenant."

"OK, OK... my input."  Deitrahs' avatar shook its head.  "My input... ugh. I
hate having to disappoint a superior officer.  I respectfully request that I be
withdrawn from consideration for the second's slot, Captain.  I'd further like
to request that a note be made in my service jacket that I never be considered
for such a position."

He was surprised as hell at this turn of events.  He'd never heard of anyone
turning down a slot like this before.  Sure, some officers had turned down
commands to stay Firsts on some of the bigger ships, but the Thunderchild was a
medium cruiser, and it's not like Deitrahs would be going anywhere. "That's an
unusual request, Deitrahs.  I'd consider it a favor if you explained yourself."

The little cartoon paced back and forth while Deitrahs spoke.  "Humans confuse
me, sometimes, just as I'm sure I confuse the hell out of you as a group.  One
thing I've always seen is that humans, and other races for that matter, crave
being promoted and put into a position of importance, and yet most of them wind
up eventually complaining that they've bitten off more than they can chew. 
Forgive the analogy, sir, but it's almost like you haven't quite given up your
monkey ancestor's ways, always trying to climb to the top of the tree and get
the tenderest, juiciest morsels... only to find you've climbed too high and
can't get down again.  It's one aspect of humanity that I can't fathom, that
gives me the most trouble interacting with you.."

The little figure's hands gestured openly, an 'I don't know' type expression on
its tiny cartoon face.  "Horta society is what you would consider static. You've
even got terms for it -- calcified.  Set in stone.  Hidebound.  A young Horta's
role in our society is determined long before we hatch, by the Queen Mother
during her years of guardianship and planning for the next generation. It's also
not subject to change -- your job is your job, and there's no such thing as not
liking it.  In our history, going back half a billion years and more, no Horta
has ever expressed disinterest in their chosen role.

"Our discovery of Humans... or your discovery of us, whichever point of view you
favor, changed all that.  For the first time, we knew that there was more out
there than the mineral veins of Janus VI.  Hell, sir, for the first time, we
knew there was something else outside of Janus VI -- if anyone ever visited the
surface before my generation, it wasn't passed down in the Teachings.  A lot of
my broodmates think I'm a freakish mutant because I want to do more than dig
tunnels, eat, and grow.  Out of several million of us, maybe a dozen have ever
left the planet... despite being rich enough to do so pretty much at will.

"I spent most of the first century of my life as an accountant -- well, you'd
think of it as the CEO of the largest mining corporation in the Quadrant... but
to me, I was a glorified accountant.  Even with the meeting of Horta and
Humanity, little changed in the minds of my race -- the narrow scopes were just
broadened a bit, instead of creating new approaches.  My gig, the accountant
thing, was the closest thing to the niche I'd originally been given by the Queen
Mother -- the closest English words to what I was designated is 'mineral
resource monitor'... or 'cafeteria monitor', those being the same thing to us. 
Had it not been for the Federation, I'd be spending the next 40,000 years making
sure that we don't overmine the crust of our planet.  You ever told a few
million bored beings not to eat the walls?"

Gatewood chuckled, but wondered where this was going.

"In the same vein, Humans and Humanoids fascinate me.  Compared to me, you and
your people live for an incredibly short amount of time, yet you've all done so
much more in the few thousand years you've been sentient than my people have in
half a billion years or so.  Early in my first career in Starfleet, I came to
the conclusion that I didn't feel comfortable with command, or being in a
command structure.  I've given it thought for a few decades or so, and believe
that I would shatter if I did something that shortened the already brief
existence of one of you people.

"As second officer, there would be times when I would be forced to order people
around.  There's an all-too real chance that those times would come during a
crisis where I might have to order someone to sacrifice themselves in order to
save the rest of the group.  That's what the Kobayashi Maru test in the Academy
is really all about -- finding out if someone can sacrifice themselves for the
greater good, and also to find out if a potential leader can order that
sacrifice to happen.

"I beat the first part of the Maru -- I chose to sacrifice myself willingly,
only I wound up surviving the event that would have killed one of you Flesh
People.  But I failed the second part miserably -- I couldn't order someone else
to their death... and in the test, everyone 'died' because I couldn't make that
decision.  The Maru almost ended my career before it ever started.  Once I could
articulate why it affected me the way it did, my failure was forgiven and I
continued through the Academy. You've read the full account of my experiences on
the Peregrine -- you know that I survived a warp core breach, but almost died
due to self-imposed guilt over a crewman's injuries that I feel to this day that
I could have prevented.

"This doesn't mean I'm not willing to help.  You know from dealing with me daily
that I am more than willing to do whatever I can to help.  When I first came
aboard, I offered myself to Captain Ramius as a 'special advisor' -- a role,
you'll note, that my previous commanders took me up on.  I make that same offer
to you.  I'll listen, I'll talk, hell, I'll even juggle hand grenades if you so
desire... but I categorically refuse to be put into a chain of command position.

"Maybe in a few hundred years, I'll feel differently... but right now, I am *so*
not interested in the second officer's position.  I appreciate the offer, and
I'm flattered by it... but I won't do it."  As an afterthought, the Horta added,
"Sir."

The CO got up and walked over to the replicator. "2 one ounce slabs of English
Toffee." A moment later, two pieces of candy appeared. "A half liter bottle of
Bajoran Grape Juice, room temp." He retrieved the drink and snack. He turned
towards the Horta. "Can I get you anything while I'm up?"

The cartoon-like figure above the horta's body was stroking its 'chin',
apparently considering the offer, then waved it off with a 'hand'.

Gatewood took a drink of the juice but set the candy aside. Gatewood looked at
the Horta carefully. He had not served with a Horta before, had not even met one
before Lt. Deitrahs. It was likely Ced would appreciate the perspective working
with a long-lived officer. Even if Deitrah's wasn't quite 200 years old, the Lt.
still had a few years on him.

"I hate giving speeches, Deitrahs, but I feel one coming on anyhow.  I greatly
appreciate your telling me this now rather than later, when it could do more
damage.  You should expect that I'll take you up on your offer to serve as an
advisor to me. I've been a commander, I should say, 'Captain', of a starship,
now, approaching one *whole* duty shift. The color of the day... definitely
green. I imagine Starfleet wouldn't have been so ready to transfer Commander
Calldan off the Thunderchild if they'd had any indication the Captain was going
to be leaving within the month."

Gatewood looked up at the cartoon-like figure. It was sitting on what Ced
considered to be Deitrahs' head, legs crossed, 'hands' folded on its 'knees',
giving the appearance of an ancient sage listening intently.  It had even grown
a long 'beard' and wore flowing robes.  Gatewood smiled.  Deitrahs had obviously
been raiding Earth's historical media archives looking for material to animate.

He sighed, and his voice took on a somewhat worried tone.  "I'll play the hand
as dealt to me. We, as a crew, all haven't even gotten to know each other on
this ship. I do know that there are a lot of people here who served with Captain
Ramius for some months or years -- longer than you or I, to be sure. I can't
explain the Captain's departure to them any better than he did. They'll have to
sort things out, either by themselves or through the counselor.  The Fleet, to
be sure, will be looking over our shoulders, to see how well we adjust to the
change... I for one do not intend to disappoint them.

"Every officer must be expected to pick up the slack when it's required, or they
have no business being here. I appreciate your candor, expressing your lack of
interest in additional responsibilities towards this crew, and I want you to
understand that I intend to honor that lack of interest in the 2O position as
best I can. I consider the position you hold now to be one of the most important
bridge duties there is -- as you've said before, without you, we don't go
anywhere. As far as a special advisory role is concerned, any options or
endorsements, that your advice, based on your experiences, can add to the
choices I will have in front of me, will be greatly appreciated."

Gatewood took a sip of the grape juice, savoring the bittersweet tang of the
liquid.  "I'll be frank.  Your decision is a disappointment to me, but an
understandable one given your feelings and your psychology.  However, I can't
guarantee that you'll never be in a position where you need to make the call in
a crisis.  Everyone on every starship, from a fleet admiral down to the greenest
recruit, could wind up in command of a situation, especially if it gets real
ugly and all dice come up snake-eyes.  If we end up in the deep end of it, I
expect you to pull your considerable weight... including, if need be, taking
command of a situation and resolving it to the best of your ability.  One of the
hardest lessons any commander has to learn is that he, she, or it must never be
eager to order someone to do something that they'd not do themselves."  He took
another pull from the juice in front of him, and his eyes unfocused in thought
for a moment.

"I've had to order men into combat before, some of them to their deaths.  I've
never gotten used to the pain of it, and the day I do, I intend to downcheck
myself from command duty.  I just remind myself that if they hadn't been willing
to pay the ultimate price for their beliefs, they wouldn't have been here.  That
if they hadn't made that supreme sacrifice, life would be a whole lot worse for
a whole lot of beings."  He picked up the juice glass and made a silent toast to
his fallen comrades, and drained the glass in a gulp.  "It doesn't make it any
easier to live with... but it does put things in perspective."

"It occurs to me, Deitrahs, that you might be misreading yourself completely. 
The ideal commander is always concerned for the safety of his crew.  You might
not realize it yet, but your apprehension about sending people into a lethal
situation may make you a good commander someday -- you'll try that much harder
to find a non-violent, non-dangerous resolution to a given situation.  If the
commander shows some concern for the well-being of his subordinates, they become
that much more efficient because *they* no longer have to worry about it."

Gatewood rose from his seat. "With all the recent changes, the ship needs some
continuity. With Ramius' resignation, the entire bridge crew and most of the
command staff is composed of officers fairly new to the ship.  I'm recommending
Quintela as my XO, as you may know.  He's been pulling double-duty already as
OPS chief and second officer; now he gets to pull double duty as XO and OPS
chief.  I may have to bring in someone from the outside as my second -- that's
up to Fleet, though.   Again, thanks for your candor. I think I have made the
right decision after all."

Deitrahs' avatar morphed into a large-headed humanoid with archaic, black-rimmed
glasses, and its voder developed a thick nasal twang.  "Entirely possible that
you have -- you've shown a marked tendency to make the optimal decision based on
limited data."

The newly-fledged captain's eyebrows furrowed in thought, then he grinned
widely.  "Yeah.  I guess."

Submitted by,
Lt. Deitrahs, FCO/NAV
(played by Brian Cook)

CO Sherdrick 'Ced' Gatewood
(played by Noah Rains)

USS Thunderchild
(played by USS Thunderchild)

------------------------------------------------------------------------
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LOCATION: Peaceful resort on Romulus
MD: 5.842
Kfarad gently cracked his eyes open.  Clearing them of his deep peaceful
sleep, he rolled over in the comfortable mattress and looked at the
beautiful native Romulan girl lying awake next to
him, playing one of his addictive action games that he had taught her.  When
she noticed he awoke she smiled at him and rubbed her smooth silky hand over
his bald head.  He reached over to her and they began to do it as they did
extensively in the past two days he had been on Romulus.  After they
finished
they got out of bed and showered.  After a colorful sweet breakfast she
asked him,
"So what do you want to do today?"
"Well I was thinking about going diving in the coral reef."
"Sounds great!" She was always excited and enthusiastic about everything he
said.  She wasn't used to so much adventure, other than serving people in
the
bar and tending to chores.  She had told him earlier how grateful she was
for letting her get out of the daily routine and exploring the environment
around her.  She had not believed that she has lived in this place all her
life but had not done all the things he had shown her.  Kfarad smiled at her
delicate tanned face and told her that he was grateful she had ever spoken
to him.
As they walked hand in hand out the door their way was suddenly blocked.
They mate the crude, abominable face of the Romulan guide.  His once pale
skin was now bright red and peeling from the bright sun.  They have both
developed a mutual but polite hate for each other.  "Lt. Kfarad, you, are
not
going anywhere."
    "Says who?" said Kfarad.
    "Says I!" said the Romulan with a heavy, scary accent.  The Romulan girl
held on to Kfarad's arm tighter.  "You have orders from your commanding
officer on the Thunderchild." Continued the appalling Romulan.  "You are to
report to the beam coordinates in .85 hours."  With that he turned and
disappeared off into a corner.  With that, Kfarad's vacation started to end.
Ended so soon? Thought Kfarad

    She was looking straight at him with a helpless, sad look, crying out
desperately for help.  Her beautiful eyes began to shake and water.  They
hugged. "Come with me." whispered Kfarad to her ear.  They had gotten so
involved in falling in love with each other that they totally did not plan
for the future.
    "Come with you? to the...starship?" tears were streaking down her cheeks
now.  "But what about my..home? Leave everything?"
    Kfarad kissed her.  "No...what was I thinking...I cannot allow you to
turn your life around.  Forget me!  Let your memory of me be gone.  Lose my
remembrance, love."
    "Hush! Speak not like this!  The Romulans have a saying; 'it is better to
have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all' "
    Kfarad smiled faintly.  "Funny.  The Trill also have the exact same
saying"
    They embraced again, not being able to let go or utter a word of
goodbye...

LOCATION: Beaming coordinates.
MD: 5.955

    Kfarad arrived at the beaming coordinates with a bulky gray suitcase in
one hand and a seashell souvenir on the other.  He had changed into a
Starfleet uniform which felt extremely uncomfortable and heavy in the
tropical heat.  The Romulan guide, clearly extremely eager to end this
nightmare of an assignment already had everything laid out for the
departure and was ready with a handheld device to commence the transport
with the push of a button.  Kfarad looked around for the Romulan girl.  She
was not in sight.  "Thunderchild.  Prepare to receive Lt. Kfarad."
    "Aye. Ready for transport. One to beam up" said a transport technician
from the ship.  Kfarad stood a firm stand, legs wide and steady.
    "Energ-"
    "Wait!" Shouted Kfarad.  He looked around.  She was not there.  He turned
around, and said,
    "Okay.  Proceed."  his voice was heavy.  His heart heavy.  His stomach
sore.  It would take weeks to even partially recover from this injury of
love. He stood rigid again and nodded at the Romulan.  He wasn't that bad
when
Kfarad thought about it.  He was doing his duty.
    "Energize."

LOCATION: THUNDERCHILD BRIDGE
MD: 6.078

    Kfarad entered the bridge and was greeted by his friends.  "Welcome
back." said Quintela smiling.  "Nice tan!" said Deitrahs.
    Kfarad sat at his station as Captain Ramius entered the Bridge with
Gatewood.  Now there's an unfamiliar face, thought Kfarad to himself.  He
was shocked to hear the news of the captain's departure. He sighed a deep
sigh as he watched the Captain leave the bridge.  He ran a final mild sensor
sweep, nothing serious to upset the Romulans, and waited at his station...

MD 6.0950

They were cleared for leaving Romulan orbit and a
return route to Saladin Station had been plotted.
Commander Gatewood had been given the all clear from
Lt. Qunitela that all systems were nominal and the
Thunderchild was good to go.

Gatewood turned to Lt. Deitrahs at helm. "Mr.
Deitrahs, at your pleasure, let's light this
matchstick."

As the Thunderchild warped at  incomprehensibly fast speeds away from
Romulus, away from his love, Kfarad felt this Romulan chapter in his life
come to an end.  He thought about her.  And analyzed normal sensor data.
And thought about her. And prepared a summary of scientific data collected
while in orbit of Romulus. And thought about her.
And...thought about her...

------------------------------------------------------------------
Sorry about the love story...I am studying Romeo & Juliet in English Class
so I cant help it




--KFARAD
http://welcome.to/kfarad
kfarad@...
ICQ: 16156996
AOL IM: kfarad








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MD 6.0500
SCENE: Security Transport Center, Ra'tleihfi


The waiting area in Ra'tleihfi's STC was reminiscent
of an old earth bus station. In terms of its design,
not the ethnicity of its occupants. A large open room,
with preformed concrete benches.  It was however, much
cleaner than any operating bus station on Earth had
ever been. And the security presence was definitely
more substantial here than on Earth.

Gatewood had beamed back to Ra'tleihfi, and was met by
Captain Ramius, looking distracted and thoughtful. The
two JAG investigators had completed their work, and
were on their way to the Security Transport Center.

Gatewood and Janex said their goodbyes at the STC; he
stayed behind for the transport back to Thunderchild,
and she left, most likely for a debriefing. She was
gone.

Captain Ramius sat down and indicated for Ced to as
well. "I trust you had a pleasant shore leave?"

Gatewood considered that anything they might have to
say was being monitored. Alliance or not, tyhe
Romulans were a wary breed. "Yes, Captain. How is the
Proconsuls family holding up?"

Ramius sighed. "As well as can be expected,
considering the circumstances...."

Gatewood sensed their was more the Captain had to say.


Ramius said nothing. He looked away, then looked back
at Gatewood, gave him a weak smile and nodded his head
slightly to the right. Ced let his eyes drift in that
direction and saw a RSE security officer sitting on a
bench not 2 meters away, trying to appear engrossed in
a newspaper. Ced knew better, he recognised the paper
and knew the main story on that page was about test
scores in the local schools. He doubted an RSE
security officer was anymore interested in that than
he was. Especially to be on the same page for over
three minutes.

They talked for another five minutes about
inconsequentials, the weather, the architecture of
Romulus; nothing sensitive or Federation or mission
related. Exhausted of 'small talk' after five minutes,
they fell silent.

Three minutes later, the two JAG investigators arrived
with their escorts. The four of them were checked in
for transport. The JAG investigators filled in Ramius
and Gatewood on the outcome of the investigation while
they waited the ten minutes until their scheduled
departure.


MD 6.0720
SCENE: USS Thunderchild, Ready Room

"Sit down, Commander." Gatewood complied. Ramius
remained standing. Ramius looked troubled. "I have
been in contact with Commander Lowe. Effective with
the Thunderchild leaving orbit of Romulus, I am
resigning as Captain of the Thunderchild. As First
Officer, Command of the Thunderchild has been given to
you."

Gatewood was stunned. He hadn't seen this development
coming. "Captain, may I ask what's prompted this
course of action?"

"I am not leaving Romulus. At least, not any time
soon. And our investigators have finished their job
here. There is no reason for the Thunderchild to be
here any longer. Therefore, I must step down."

"Sir..." Gatewood paused. The two men hadn't gotten to
know each other at all. This had been their first
mission together. Ramius' had lost some of his past
crew to reassignments and Gatewood had joined the
Thunderchild as XO, just prior to this initial mission
to Romulus. Still, this seemed highly irregular.

"It is with great regret that I must step down.
Commodore Lowe was kind enough to persuade me from
resigning from Starfleet altogether." Ramius sat down
next to Gatewood. "I am taking an extended leave of
absence from Starfleet. There is something here I must
do, I owe it to Jarok's family and his memory."

"You'll be coming back to us?"

"To Starfleet. The Commodore has indicated to me that
if I don't do anything to embarrass or discredit the
Federation, I will be accepted back. He said they
cannot promise me a command, but that as long as I
return under those conditions untarnished in
reputation and character, my chances for one are good.
The Thunderchild, however, once relinquished, is no
longer mine."

MD 6.0800
Scene: USS Thunderchild, Bridge

His voice came across the comm system, filling every
corner of the Thunderchild. "This is your Captain,
Victor Ramius. We will be leaving Romulus orbit within
two hours. At that time, Commander Sherdrick Gatewood
will become your Captain." He paused a moment, to let
the weight of the words sink in. "I trust you will all
give him the same attention to duty that I have been
the beneficiary of. We are all in service to Starfleet
and the Federation here, and I have just been called
away to provide that service in another way. It has
been an honor to serve with you."

MD 6.0845
Scene: USS Thunderchild, Bridge

Quintela was manning OPS as 2O and senior officer on
the bridge. The Captain and Gatewood were in the ready
room, reinitializing authorization codes for the new
command. The Captain had already sent his personal
effects through the Romulan STC for transport to the
Jarok's family estate, where he was headed on return
to Romulus.

Thunderchild was due to depart Romulan orbit at 0950.
The last of the crew on shore leave had returned.

Their work entering the new authorizations complete,
Ramius was ready to leave.

Gatewood extended his hand and Ramius took it.
"Captain, I regret that I did not get more of an
opportunity to serve with you. I wish you well. To
borrow an old saying, 'May the road rise up to meet
you, and the wind be ever at your back'."

Ramius nodded. "The same to you, Commander. Take care
of them."

Gatewood walked out of the Ready Room with Captain
Ramius and they walked to the transporter room. They
walked past the bridge leaving the ready room, and the
bridge crew stood at attention as Ramius walked past.

"No long goodbyes, my friends. I trust we shall meet
again. Some sunny day..."

MD 6.0950

They were cleared for leaving Roulan orbit and a
return route to Saladin Station had been plotted.
Commander Gatewood had been given the all clear from
Lt. Qunitela that all systems were nominal and the
Thunderchild was good to go.

Gatewood turned to Lt. Deitrahs at helm. "Mr.
Deitrahs, at your pleasure, let's light this
matchstick."

Submitted by,

Commander Sherdrick "Ced" Gatewood
CO, USS Thunderchild

Aka Noah Rains


(NRPC:We're headed back gang...)

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MD:  04.1800

=/\= "Deitrahs to Thunderchild.  I'm going to keep this channel open, and I
think it'd be a good idea to pipe it back live to the Romulan government.
This is their moon after all."

George Quintela, temporary commander of the Thunderchild, replied,
"Understood, Lieutenant.  Good hunting."

The second moon of Romulus bore no atmosphere to speak of, being a
misshapen planetoid about 500 kilometers in diameter.  Deitrahs was
grateful that the shuttle's pilot had remembered there was almost no
gravity to speak of here, and used the shuttle's engines to induce a vector
that would bring Deitrahs to the surface in a reasonable amount of time.
Still, falling 15 kilometers in the shallow gravity well took a few minutes.

On the bridge of the Thunderchild, a priority transmission came in and
resolved onto the screen.  The lopsided grin of Commander Gatewood blinked
into being, and said, "Deitrahs, it's Ced.  I didn't know that Horta could
fly."

=/\=  "Funny.  Not only is he a commander, he's also a comedian.  Actually,
we don't fly well at all.  Falling, though, is second nature to us.
Sometimes if you're on a tasty outcropping, and you snack a bit too much,
well, falling becomes your first nature for a moment or two."

Gatewood chuckled, as did most of the people on the bridge.  "Somehow I can
believe that.  I heard you ask for some tunes on the way down... hit it,
George."

Quintela signalled the communications officer, and the percussion-and-synth
opening to PInk Floyd's "Learning to Fly" piped over the channel.

=/\=  "Hey, classic Floyd... haven't heard this in a century or so!  Good
choice.  One minute thirty seconds to impact.  I'm gonna be quiet for a bit
and brace for impact.  Five latinum strips says I skip three times."

"You're on," said Gatewood.  "My five says four times.  Anyone else want a
piece of the action?"  Throughout the Thunderchild, bets were entered into
the ship's computer.

The meteoric Starfleet officer plummeted to the surface, striking at an
angle and bouncing a few times.  Three, to be precise.

Gatewood gawked at the monitor that showed him losing five strips of
latinum as the Horta hit the ground and stuck on the third bounce.  "Hey,
no fair! You grabbed onto something!"

=/\= "I *told* you I'd only bounce three times.  Next time, believe me."

The Horta vibrated fiercely, casting loose motes of dust to drift down to
the surface in the low gravity.

=/\=  "Man, you gotta watch that first step... it's a killer.  I read
myself at 9.14 klicks to the site.  Confirmation please?"

The Thunderchild's Science officer said, "Confirmed."

=/\=  "Any takers on how long it takes me to get there?"

Even as it spoke, it started toward the rescue site at a frighteningly
quick pace.  Quickly after it stopped speaking, Deitrahs was treated to a
chorus of "No way", "Not me", and other negative replies.

=/\= "Spoilsports.  OK, making for the rescue site.  TC, I'd like you to
probe the site as best you can from up there."

Gatewood interrupted.  "That's a big negative, Deitrahs.  We are enjoined
from scanning the area using anything but passive visual sensors, at the
insistence of the Romulans.  I know you're gonna throw a fit over this, but
we were just barely given permission to even orbit the moon in the first
place.  You're going in blind."

=/\=  "Ced, no offense ot our gracious guests, but I smell a big fat hairy
mouse down in that hole up ahead.  I just hope it isn't one with teeth.
Are we prevented from giving me tools to use?"

"Let me check."  Gatewood's link was silent for a few moments, then
reopened.  "No limitation on what you can carry in with you, they tell me.
We just can't scan from orbit.  Any data you pick up while inside, they're
going to want to see."

=/\=  "Groovy, man.  George, send someone down to my quarters and fetch out
equipment pack 5 and beam it down to me.  I can install it myself.  Beam it
down ahead of me in my path so's I can grab it on the go."

With a wave of his hand, Quintela dispatched a security guard to go get the
desired item.  A couple of minutes later, it materialized in the Horta's
path.  It put out a waldo and grabbed the equipment pack neatly, and
nestled it into the open space within the turret-style backpack blended
into its body.

About 20 minutes later, the Horta raced into the outskirts of the
industrial plant.  It quickly discerned the situation inside.

=/\= "I'm getting no life signs in the surface buildings.  Internal
atmosphere's all screwed up -- there's not a mote of oxygen present.  This
place apparently uses a point singularity core for power, but I'm getting
nothing on energy flux readings.  Have our taciturn friends told us what
kind of industry was working here?"

Gatewood sighed over the link.  "All they'll say is that it's a pilot
mining project of some kind.  No clues on what they're mining, or how."

=/\=  "Hey, right up my alley.  Tell 'em I work cheap as a mining
consultant.  Ced, all the airlocks are powered down, and there doesn't look
to be an external manual override.  I repeat, I'm getting no life signs
inside the surface structures at all.  Permission to breach?"

"Just a sec," said Gatewood, followed a few moments later by, "Go for it,
though they ask that you seal the breach if you can to avoid excess damage
to the facility."

=/\= "Copy that.  Engaging cutting beam."

The dome on top of Deitrahs' body popped up, and a small nozzle shape poked
out from beneath the rock-like exterior.  A thin white beam burst from the
tip of the nozzle, and quickly made a Horta-shaped hole in the airlock
door. The metal chunk fell inward at a nudge from the rock-being, and
Deitrahs quickly clambered inside and put the metal plate back in place
using its waldoes.  The plate was then welded back into place.

=/\=  "You still reading me, TC?"

"Five by five," said Quintela.

=/\=  "Good.  Now that I'm inside, I can get a better analysis of the
atmosphere.  Standby."

Both by 'taste' and by sensors, Deitrahs sampled the atmosphere, analyzing
every compound found present.  It was very troubled by the impression its
senses gave it, an unease that was only fueled by the sensor's confirmation.

=/\=  "Uh, Ced... there's a problem."

"What?"

=/\=  "My readings from outside are confirmed.  There's not a single
molecule of free oxygen in the complex.  Atmosphere is 96% nitrogen, 3%
carbon dioxide, and 1% trace gases.  Atmospheric pressure is about 8 PSI.
And I've got a NASTY taste in my mouth."

"What's it taste like?"

=/\=  "Bromides.  Fluorides.  Chlorides.  Stuff you fleshy things shouldn't
be breathing.  Stuff that doesn't occur in natural environments for you to
live in."

Magistrate Luree's voice came over the link.  "Where did they come from,
Lieutenant?"

=/\=  "Beats me.  I didn't stop to taste the scenery, so I can't tell you
if they're native to the rock around here.  What did your geological
surveys indicate, Magistrate?"

"Standby for a moment and I will transmit you the full geological survey."
A wash of data came in a burst from Romulus, and Deitrahs took a few
moments to analyze it.

=/\=  "Wow.  Good thing I didn't stop for a snack -- I'd have indigestion
for weeks.   This moon appears to have been built out of chemical soup.
I'm heading for the life support section, folks.  I've got a theory, but I
need to look there for proof."

"What's the theory, Deitrahs?"  Gatewood's voice was tinged with concern.

=/\=  "I'd rather not say until I've had a look at the life support
equipment, sir.  It wouldn't do to raise unnecessary alarm.  Someone please
talk me to it, since I don't have a map."

Quickly, Deitrahs raced through the complex, following the directions
dictated to it by a nervous Magistrate Luree.  As it moved, it found
numerous bodies, preserved in the anaerobic atmosphere.  It didn't stop or
disturb the bodies, except in the few cases where they blocked its
progress. Within a few minutes, it arrived at the main life support plant.

It poked around with waldos and sensors, checking what it could.  It found
a large replicator in the corner, coated with mineral dust.

=/\=  "What's my proximity to the central power generators?  The
singularity core?"

"They're one level below you."

=/\=  "Now, tell me... how long before the distress call went out did the
core become active?"

"Perhaps a day or so... no, the first distress call came about three hours
after initial powerup of the core.  The site had been using beamed power up
to that point, but the needs of the mining efforts outstripped practical
beam power limits, so the core was installed."

=/\=  "One more question, ma'am.  Did the atmosphere for this facility come
from off-planet, or was it broken out from the rocks using this cargo
replicator I'm staring at?"

"Some came from Romulus, but most of it was extracted from the rocks."

Deitrahs sighed audibly.

=/\=  "Magistrate, I regret to inform you that this entire facility should
be declared a loss, and destroyed from orbit."

Gatewood's voice cut through, full of alarm.  "Explain, Lieutenant."

=/\=  "The geological survey indicates, among other things, discovery of a
previously unknown crystalline structure in the rocks deep in the crust of
this moon.  Under normal circumstances, it's a fairly benign structure,
fairly strong but not terribly impressive otherwise. The unusual properties
observed in the crystal matrix included being completely unaffected by
molecular breakdown fields like those used on replicators. Put it anywhere
near a fairly strong source of gamma rays, though, and its properties change."

"Change how?"

=/\=  "It absorbs gamma rays like a sponge soaks up water, and in the
process becomes reactive with oxygen.  When it reacts with oxygen, it
replicates if there's source material, growing, if you will.  However, in
its natural state, the largest crystals are smaller than a micron in
diameter.  When the core was powered up, the crystals, spread throughout
the station along with rock dust for however long the atmosphere extraction
process had been going on, absorbed as much oxygen as they could, and made
more crystals using the dust as raw materials, releasing the poisons I
found when I first came in.  They made more crystals... which reacted with
more oxygen... which made more crystals.  Continue process until there's no
more oxygen in the air.  The power core, I'll bet, was shut down remotely
to avoid problems.  "

The Magistrate's voice sounded depressed.  "Quite correct.  Thank you,
Lieutenant, for your assistance.  It's regrettable that it couldn't have
come to a more satisfying ending."

=/\=  "You're not alone there, Magistrate.  I'd like the Thunderchild to
pick me up from here."

"Certainly."

Beam-out was simple enough, though due to the differences between
replicators and transporters, the biofilter had to be programmed to exclude
the oxygen-consuming mineral -- while unaffected by molecular imager
scanners, it would easily break down in the quantum-level imaging scanners
used by transporters.  Still, Quintela took no chances of accidental
contamination, and Deitrahs insisted on being kept in a confinement field
while they tested for the presence of the motes.  Human-lethal levels of
gamma radiation were poured into the confinement zone, which contained a
pure oxygen atmosphere along with Deitrahs, but not so much as a single
molecule of oxygen disappeared from within the bubble.

Thunderchild returned to its orbit of Romulus, letting the last of the
shore leave parties go down for some brief R&R before the return to Saladin.



------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD:04.1800
Scene: Counselors office.

The Lac of furniture was quiet a shock to Toben.  Never in his life had he
seen such a poorly ferbished room. There was only one desk, with one
terminal in the entire room. Then can a sound he was expecting
<beep>

"Ah Come in" Said Toben, as 4 ensigns came in to his office, two carrieng a
loverly wide black leather Sofa, one carrieng a chair and one carring a case
from Jolinar's personal Belongings.

"Where should we put this sir?" Said one of the ensigns carrieng the sofa.
"Just put it down anywere."

The Two tired ensings sighed in relife as they put the heavy sofa down in
the middle of the room.

"Thank you all,  To may go."

As the ensigns left. Jolinar began to look around the room. trying to figure
out where to put the new furniture.  He took the Case out and opend it.  It
was a large black case,  Held with in were some of the finest exampled of
Trill art to be found through out the Federation.  There were only four
painting in the case,  so Jolinar decided to put one on each wall.

"Computer,  Redice light levels by 25 percent and place a spot light on each
of the paintings"
The Computer complyed. and with that, the lights dimed and four spotlights
fell on the paintings.  The Spotlights made the paintings look even more
raident, the colours stood out more, the gold frames sparcled with beauty.
"Thats more like it,  Now suitable music,  Computer play Beethoven's
Moonlight sonata."

As the music began to play, he walked over and checked his appointment
shedule for the rest of the Day.

"Hmm.. No appointments.  Good.  Computer return light levels to standard and
play music form 20th century Earth,  Rock music."

The Computer began to splert out rock music as the Counselor lay down on the
sofa, and listend to it for the rest of the evening.

*******************************
Colin Humphreys
Toben Jolinar CNS
USS Thunderchiled
*******************************


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MD: 04.1720
Location:  Aboard a Romulan shuttle, approaching the primary moon of Romulus

Subcommander Malik felt ridiculous.  She was talking to a *rock*!  She
truly thought the original orders she'd gotten about this were some kind of
cruel prank -- why would a Senator be visiting this facility during the
upheaval?  She hated the Federation and all its weak members, and was
horribly insulted to have to treat a pile of minerals as a sentient being.
It so obviously wasn't anything close to intelligent -- it couldn't even
talk without mechanical assistance, and she held an inward suspicion that
the Horta was just a Federation puppet, a fake being animated by science in
a hollow mockery of the Chosen.

She spoke with slow, methodical tones.  "So, Horta, do you understand what
we need you to do?"

The Horta's voder slurred its words, affecting a deep and gravelly speech
pattern.  "Yes.  Me dig hole, get people out.  Lots eating."

Deitrahs was at the end of its rope.  It despised being patronized, and
this Malik chick was pushing it to the limit.  What's worse, she didn't
understand that it was mocking her in front of her entire crew.  Then
again... they didn't get it either.  Vulcans appreciated its jokes, though
they didn't laugh for obvious reasons.  Vulcans understood simple concepts
like irony and exaggeration.

Romulans were just DENSE.

Malik turned to her pilot.  "So how do we get this thing down there?"

Before the pilot could speak, Deitrahs interrupted her in a very irritated
and abrasive voice.  "Why don't you try asking the one you have to put down
there, Subcommander?"

It was gratified to see her face flush green.  "Alright, Horta.  Speak."

"Woof!"  The Horta shuffled over to a control panel, and pulled up an
orbital view.  The shuttle was under orders not to approach within ten
kilometers of the accident site, theoretically to prevent contamination.
"My best suggestion would be a transorbital insertion from this point in
our approach vector," it said, pointing with a waldo to the screen.  "Or
give me a small thruster pack and drop me in orbit, and I can run the
insertion myself."

One of the junior ratings in the back of the shuttle choked back a laugh,
and Malik glared daggers at the man.  She returned her eyes to Deitrahs.
"Hortas seem to have too much knowledge of orbital mechanics."

Deitrahs shook its armatures at her in a scolding manner as he ranted.  "I
sure as hell hope I know something about orbital mechanics -- my job is
piloting a starship.  Subcommander, I am here as a courtesy to your
government, at the request of your Proconsul.  The boundaries of courtesy
keep me from walking out on this mission right now -- I mean to do what I
gave my word I would do.  Those same boundaries also keep me from commiting
grevious harm to you, which your attitude really makes me want to do.  We
don't have to like one another, and there's certainly no fear of that
happening... but we DO have to work together.  I'd really, really hate for
the only stain on an otherwise successful joint operation between your
people and mine to be YOUR inability to conceal your xenophobia.  It might
spell the end to your career.  Am I making myself clear to you?"

"How *DARE* you?!" Malik shrieked as she reached for her sidearm.

Before she could touch it, Deitrahs' waldoes snapped out, grabbed it out of
its holster, and pulled the powercell out of it.  It then tossed the pistol
back to her and ate the power cell just to make its point.  "That's twice,
Subcommander."

Deitrahs' voder then relayed another voice, a deeper one.  "Subcommander,
this is Magistrate Luree in the Proconsul's office.  You are relieved of
command of the rescue mission immediately.  Centurion Londa, restrain the
Subcommander pending her court martial."

Livid, she flung the useless pistol aside.  "It's a trick!  This Federation
monster is trying to trick us!  Destroy it, Centurion!"

The young guard looked nervous for a moment, unsure which way to jump, when
he was saved by the pilot's voice.  "I have direct confirmation from the
Proconsul's office.  Malik is relieved.  Restrain her."

It was a matter of a few moments before Malik was strapped securely into a
chair.  Deitrahs took the time to discuss how to get itself down to the
surface with the pilot of the shuttle.  They agreed that the orbital
bombardment method would work best.

Lacking a transporter on the shuttle, Deitrahs would have to airlock itself
out.  As it moved into position, Malik wailed miserably and yelled, "You'll
pay for this, monster!  If it takes all my days, you will pay!"

Deitrahs sounded... amused.  "You've got me VERY annoyed, Malik -- annoyed
enough that I was forced to go over your head.  Mark these words well:  The
last time a humanoid got a Horta mad, over 50 of them died.  Romulans live
for what, 200 years?"  Londa nodded to the Horta.  "Malik, you've got 160
years or so to effect your revenge.  And after you get it, I'll have
another *40,000* to think of a clever and subtle way to get back at your
descendants.  And don't think I wouldn't do it."

The pilot turned back and looked Deitrahs.  "Are you making a threat
against this officer, Deitrahs?"  Shielded from her view, Deitrahs sensed
the pilot winking at it -- he was highly amused at the dressing down Malik
was taking.

"No, pilot, it's not a threat.  It's a sh'rin talik."  The sh'rin talik is
a specific kind of contract in the Romulan culture, largely obsolete but
still used in situations where form was as important as function.  It would
become binding and irrevocable the moment any one of the two parties
satisfied their half of the agreement.  One translation of the phrase into
English is 'vindictive promise'.  "A sh'rin talik that I have full
authorization from the Magistrate to enforce should Malik here be stupid
enough to try anything."

"Indeed.  We are in position, Deitrahs.  Cycle out, and I will maneuver you
into position."

The Horta engaged the forcefield airlock, cycling out with minimal cabin
pressure change, and clung to the outside of the shuttle.  A tractor beam
reached out and tickled Deitrahs, picking the Horta up and deftly
propelling it in the opposite direction of flight.  The moon had relatively
little rotation to it, so the main purpose was to fulfill the old "slow
down to go down" axiom of orbital mechanics.

=====
Location:  Bridge, USS Thunderchild

Quintela watched with interest as Deitrahs was maneuvered outside the
shuttlecraft.  He said, "Track the Horta, Science.  I want a lock kept on
it at all times in case we need to pull Deitrahs out of there."

He put that question out of his mind, satisfied that it would be taken care
of when he heard the Science operator answer, "Aye sir.  Tracking Deitrahs."

=/\=  "Deitrahs to Thunderchild."

Quintela answered, "Go ahead."

=/\=  "How about a little music while I'm waiting here.  Got any David
Bowie or Tom Petty on file over there?"

"We'll see."

**********
Respectfully submitted by:
LT Deitrahs, FCO/NAV
USS Thunderchild
**********

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MD: 04.1505

Location: USS Thunderchild

George was enjoying the view from the observation deck when he received a
Comm signal.

"Lt. T'arik to Quintela" George turns slightly  "Go ahead Lt."

"Incoming message for the Romulan Senate Sir." George begins to walk to the
observation doors and replies "Lt. I'll be in my quarters in one minute
route the call there."  Lt. T'arik replies with a skeptical voice " Yes
Sir".  George reaches his quarters and sits in front of his Comm PADD.
Computer route incoming Romulan message to this terminal.  With a few chirps
the computer complies and George sees the Romulan Insignia and then a
Magistrate appears.

George wants to look concern and puts on his poker face.  George begins the
conversation "Magistrate how can I help you?"  The Magistrate seems to be
uncomfortable looking at the young StarFleet Officer.  "Well Lt. I have just
some news for you and your ship."  George was taken aback a Romulan
Magistrate telling the Federation information.  "Well Lt. there has been an
accident on one of our moons," George replied somewhat bewildered by the
sudden generosity for the Romulan Empire. "I sorry to here about that
Magistrate can the Thunderchild be of any assistance?"  The Magistrate
looked at George "I have notified your Commander Gatewood of the situation,
but <hesitation> you may orbit the moon, we will notify you if we need
assistance."  George looked back "Very well. One last thing may I contact
the Commander on the surface to notify him of the Thunderchild rendezvous "
"Very Well" And the terminal closed.

George contacts Gatewood "Thunderchild to Gatewood" "Gatewood here"

"Sir I will be leaving orbit to assist if necessary the Romulan rescue
effort."


Lt. Deitrahs is a valued member of this crew and George hoped that nothing
would happen to the Horta he started to grow on him.

George received another transmission from StarFleet Command from VADM
Samantha BREIL. "Bridge to Lt. Quintela" "Go ahead bridge" George replied
"Incoming message from StarFleet Command sir it only was a relay sir. It's
for the Thunderchild to return to Saladin Station as soon as the shoreleave
is finished"

George replied back "Send a message to StarFleet Command that we will be
delayed pending the completion of this rescue attempt and that we will
return at that point."

Respectfully submitted now XO LCDR George Quintela
USS Thunderchild


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SD: 1100403.0126
MD 4.000

SCENE: George's Quarters
By USS THUNDERCHILD 2XO Lt. George Quintela (Acting Commander)


The computer at precisely 0800 hours began to play Beethoven's fifth
symphony.  George immediately rose from the bed and opened his eyes,
beginning to focus on his surroundings he realized that his was in his
quarters and began to rub his hands over his eyes.  "Computer end music"
with a few chirps from the computer the music ended.

George went to the sonic shower and began to clean himself up and put on his
uniform.  George went out and headed for the turbolift.  George tapped his
Comm badge and called to the bridge.  "Quintela to bridge report."  "Lt.
T'arik here sir No problems to report, were maintaining orbit around
Romulas."

"Very Well Lt. were is Lt. Deitrahs, He beamed down with Lt. Kfarad several
hours ago on shoreleave."   "Carry on Lt. and keep me apprised of any
situations that may happen."  "Aye Sir".  George got into the turbolift and
commanded to the computer "Computer Holodeck four."  The turbolift was on
its way.  The doors opened up and the TC felt like a ghost ship there were
but a skeleton crew onboard.


SCENE: Holodeck Four Training Exercise Mixed Klingon & Earth styles


George walked up to the controls.  "Computer load Quintela exercise program
4" a momentary delay and then George went to the holodeck.  As he went in a
thick mist covered the area and George dropped down and picked up a Klingon
Bat'leth and began to wield it as if it were an extension of his arm.  In
the mist came a figure wielding a Oy'naQ and a another figure came forward
carrying a ChonnaQ.

  As the figures began to get closer the separated and seemed to disappear
into the fog.  George went into a tree branch and waited for the first
figure to enter into his web.  The first came and George sprung into action
and began to use his Bat'leth but the defender was countering his every
advance.  Then the second figure joined in the attack this time George to
fend off both of them.

George remembering his training in the ancient earth martial art custom of
Tae Kwon Do and Kung FU, began to jump and sway around and send a mortal
blow to the second combatant and as he fell to the ground he then jumped and
kicked the first figure and hitting him in the chest.

Using the Daqtagh as he has done in the part as a projectile and hitting the
figure in the shoulder missing his original aim for the heart.  The
combatant yelled and ran as quickly as he could towards George. George also
ran and just the figure lunged with the ChonnaQ George jumped up and stuck
the figure a decisive blow and decapitated him.

As George landed as caught his breath. He looked around to see that no other
figures were around and began to relax.

"Computer save training exercise and increase difficulty when next
entering."  The computer complied with the request.  "Computer end program."
With that George headed back to his quarters to clean off and shower and
smell like a Starfleet Officer again.


George heads to the observation lounge as he looks down at the simmering
blue planet below.
George stops to think of the time when Romulans were our enemy and even
seeing the planet from orbit would have been nearly impossible some 40 years
or so and now an Akira class Starship is orbiting this beautiful planet.

Respectfully submitted by 2XO George Quintela (Acting Commander)


[NRPG: We should be finishing the story line with Romulas in the next couple
of days and we should then be headed back to Saladin Station to get some new
crewmembers..]

And to All Have a Happy and Safe Easter.  From my family to yours.


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All:

With the resignation of Timm Higgins from Prime Directive earlier in the week
(due to RL committments), it is with pride that I announce Noah Reigns as the
new commanding officer of the USS THUNDERCHILD in BLUE Fleet.

RP of this transfer of command will take place at Noah's earliest
convienence. :)

Thank you,

Dana Loeblich
aka
VADM Samantha Breil, MD, PhD
tCINCBLUE

------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD 4.875

The loud gush of the waterfall sounded in the background.  In the shade they
sat.  This was on the opposite side of the planet's capital, a wonderfully
uninhabited part; warm, bright, and sunny.  It was virtually a perfect place
in this wonderful cloudless paradise.  It is a wonder why anybody could not
just fall in love with this place and stay there forever.

When Be'er Kfarad and Deitrahs materialized in the visitor center two cold
guards waiting for them with arms behind their back and placid faces welded
onto the front of their head.  Kfarad began to be scared.  This is the first
time in 103 years that he has ever seen a Romulan.  The last experience was
not a pleasant one at all.  He was serving aboard the Miranda Class USS
Agathar, when they encountered a Romulan bird of prey.  The Romulan vessel,
with vastly superior firepower and a tactical advantage forced the Agathar's
crew to share all information they had collected on this scientific mission,
which the Romulans took credit for.  Additionally, the Romulans said that
this was their newly proclaimed scientific testbed and forced the Agathar to
abandon over a year of work.  When the crew, enraged, reported the incident
to Starfleet, they were slapped in the face by calm rationalized "this is a
diplomatic matter" and "We do not want to risk getting involved with the
Romulans again...".  Upon reading the file on the Agathar, one might guess
that anyone on board would have totally despised Romulans.  But Kfarad
believed in change and positive social evolution, especially with the
influence the Federation exposed in their alliance.  His hopes at seeing
were crushed with the smile-less atmosphere and the heartless replies to
friendly gestures that felt like a stab in the heart.  He had gone way past
considering and actually requested to beam back aboard the ship, and he
would have done so had it not been for Deitrahs's encouragement to stick
around.  Eventually Kfarad agreed to stay, and they requested the two
Romulan guides for access to visiting spots.  "Hard to imagine how such an
ugly people can occupy such a beautiful planet..." whispered Kfarad to
Deitrahs as he scanned the list of attractions with thumbnailed pictures and
descriptions conveniently translated to Trill.  "Come on, their are not that
bad." replied Deitrahs.   Deitrahs has been hooked to a downloading port
through his attached backpack.  He requested access to all information on
the planet Romulus.  That's how he asked it.  Watching the look on the two
Romulan guide's face, Kfarad could not help chucking, and turned around.
The Romulan, puzzled and confused, turned to his colleague and whispered
something to him.  Deitrahs picked up some of their talk, and recorded it on
his voder.  He later played the recording to Kfarad...

<1st Romulan, panicked voice> The Starfleet officer...He...it...<looks over>
the rock! it wants access to computer banks. We have strict orders no
to-<Second Romulan voice, calm slightly amused>I'll deal with this...

The ugly Romulan, with an unsymmetrical face, dull straight black hair
running down his forehead and trimmed straight right above the eyebrows was
almost undistinguishable from his shorter counterpart.  The ends of his long
ears where wrinkled, as was the rest of his face.  His thick unabrow was
immensely visible, and his big shriveled nose dominated over the small
colorless lips.  "Yes..." he said facing the two Starfleet officers, raising
his eyebrows disrespectfully.
"All I asked for was, access to all information you have on this planet!
What's so special about it that you're trying to hide?"
The Romulan officer narrowed his eyebrows, suddenly a little panicked
himself.  Not sure at where to address the Horta, he said, "Well as you
know, we have...regulations...we cannot-"
Deitrahs laughed out loud.  "Be'er? did you hear that? They thought I was-"
and burst into laughter again.  Kfarad stepped in.  "What my friend here
means is authorized information of course.  Touristical, preferably."
The Romulan let out a snort of fake laughter. "Well then, would it have not
been easier to say so in the first place?"
"Surely, it goes without saying that we mean authorized access.  Would you
even suspect?"
"Of course, and rightfully too, due to incidents with untrustworthy members
of the Starfleet who repeatedly attempted to acquire access to restricted
material."
"I assure you, our mission is purely recreational in nature."
"But you DO understand our precautions." said the Romulan as if he meant the
DO to be a DONT...

A few minutes later, Kfarad and Deitrahs picked a spot.  Located south of
the equator on one of the driest, warmest spots, near an oasis with
beautiful waterfalls and trees.  Romulans apparently despised this kind of
weather, and that is why it was virtually uninhabited.  It is also why
Kfarad and Deitrahs picked it.

When they beamed to the area, which was known as Rhoni.  They found the
population there to be conceptually, (not literally) not Romulans.  They
were kind, welcoming, and jolly. They sat down and ordered lunch.  Kfarad
was beginning to relax and thoroughly enjoy himself.  He closed his eyes and
saturated himself in the warm air, the sound of the waterfall, and the smell
of the food, which has just arrived.  He devoured it.  He had not tasted
such good food in three lifetimes.  With a full belly, he relaxed in to
comfortable chair. He said, "Deitrahs, you know, I think we should stay here
for longer than just lunch." Deitrahs agreed.  "That is," he motioned to the
two Romulan guides sitting in the back of the restraunt, sweating furiously.
"if it's alright with them..." Kfarad laughed. "I'm sure there's no
regulation against it."

That was when Deitrahs received the assignment from Gatewood.  They were
disappointed. "Always on duty" sighed Deitrahs"...looks like I've got allot
of eating to do pretty soon."
"Don't mention eating! I'm stuffed!" said Kfarad, patting his belly.  "How
is the Captain, anyway? we haven't heard from him in ages..."
"I know..." said Deitrahs. "It is as if the ground swallowed him."
"What about Gatewood?" asked stuffing in a thin heavenly sweet liquid to
sooth his stomach.
"I heard he got it on with his guide..."
Kfarad coughed in shock and nearly sprayed Deitrahs with his drink.  "He
what?!?"
"Yes, its what you're hearing."
Kfarad looked over at his ugly guides and nearly threw up his meal at the
appalling thought.

He began to feel himself falling asleep but was startled  when he heard loud
roaring engines. A shuttlecraft landed and two brisk Romulan officials came
out.  The guides appeared to plead to join them, to get out of this, what
was for them a hellhole. But they were virtually ignored as Deitrahs was
rushed onto the large shuttle, which quickly set off and disappeared in the
blue sky.

Kfarad was alone.  On Romulus.  Among Romulans.  Who were cunning,
suspicious and hateful.  But that was the dark side.  This side is bright,
warm, and friendly.  A tanned waitress smiled and  asked him if he would
like anything.  He did not feel alone anymore...

---
NRPG-how long are we staying on Romulus?
We didn't make the "Changes" blend into the story yet, did we? When are we?
what are they going to be?
No website update...I have been busy with other things...I thought I would
get more work done this spring break but it just whooshed by...well see ya
all

--KFARAD
http://welcome.to/kfarad
kfarad@...
ICQ: 16156996
AOL IM: kfarad


begin 666 kfarad.vcf
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@158Z,3DY.3 T,#14,#@...,X6@T*14Y$.E9#05)$#0H`
`
end



------------------------------------------------------------------------
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MD: 04.1505
Location:  Ra'tleihfi, Romulus

Janex s'Riahnin and Commander Gatewood wandered through the authorized
parts of the capital city, killing a little free time.  She was discussing
various periods of architectural dominance in Romulan history when her
shoulder bag began emitting a shrill alert tone.

She pulled out the communicator and tapped it anxiously to establish the
connection.  "Janex."

"Jolan Tru, Janex.  This is the Proconsul's office.  We need to speak with
Commander Gatewood immediately."

She got his attention and indicated the call was for him.  "He's right here
with me.  Should we report in person, or will this do?"

"This is satisfactory.  Put him on."

She muted the call for a moment and mouthed the word 'proconsul' -- she
wasn't sure if the mute really worked.  One could never truly tell.  He
nodded and took the transmitter from her.

"This is Gatewood."

"Commander, this is Magistrate Luree in the Proconsul's office.  We have
reason to believe that you have a Horta among your crewmen on the
Thunderchild.  Is this a true statement?"

Ced was perplexed.  Deitrahs had been good enough to brief him on the
adventures of the last Horta to visit Romulus, and had told Gatewood that
there might be issues related to that.  Yet now they were asking directly.
"It is true.  Lt. Deitrahs is my flight control officer.  May I ask the
reason for your inquiry, Magistrate?"

"I'll be frank, Mr. Gatewood.  There has been an industrial accident on one
of our moons.  We are in contact with some survivors, including a member of
the Senate.  They are trapped deep within the facility, and cannot be
transported out due to interference from the accident.  For the same
reasons, we cannot use energy-based drills to reach them.

"We have manual equipment on the way from the outer asteroid belt, but it
will still be the better part of a day before it can arrive.  One of my
subordinates that had been handling your ship's leave schedule recalled you
had a Horta officer, and reasoned we could transport it there faster than
the manual equipment and drillers.  The Horta do have a reputation for this
sort of work, and the Romulan government would consider this a positive
gesture on the Federation's part..."

Gatewood shivered; he'd been told to expressly look for politically
advantageous situations like this, situations which could raise the
Federation's merit and worth in the eyes of the Romulan people.  "So you're
asking if you can borrow my helmsman to rescue these personnel, correct?"

"There is a human phrase for this... 'In a nutshell'."

"I certainly have no problems with it, but I will need to confer with my
officer.  May I have authorization to contact him directly, in the
interests of time?"

"By all means.  I will hold while you do so."

Ced handed the transmitter back to Janex, and dug into a pocket for his
combadge.  The gold and silver alloy glinted in the bright Romulan
sunshine, and he tapped it.  "Gatewood to Deitrahs, emergency priority."

=/\= "Deitrahs here.  Where's the fire?"

"On one of Romulus' moons.  You've been requested to provide humanitarian
aid by the Proconsul's office."  Ced hoped the import of that statement
wasn't lost on the Horta.  He then briefly detailed the nature of the
problem as given to him by the magistrate.

=/\= "Understood, Commander.  Doesn't sound too difficult.  Lt. Kfarad and
I are currently at Rhoni Falls for lunch.  I'll await further orders here.
Deitrahs out."

Gatewood took back the link to the Magistrate and forced a smile into his
voice.  "Lt. Deitrahs and my chief of science are having lunch at Rhoni
Falls.  Both are more than willing to lend their assistance."

"Your chief of science is also a Horta?"

Gatewood chuckled.  "No, sir, he's a Trill, but the two of them do work
very well together."

"I see.  We have a packet shuttle heading out to pick them up now.  Romulus
thanks you for your assistance, Commander."

"The Federation is pleased to aid in this time of need.  I'd like to ask to
be kept updated on this, Magistrate."

"You will.  Luree out."

Gatewood handed the communicator back to Janex, who made it disappear back
into her bag.  He shook his head and said half-seriously, "So much for a
quiet shore leave."

*******
Submitted by:
Lt. Deitrahs, FCO
aka Brian Cook
*******
NRPG:  More to come... and happy Easter!

------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Scene:SB Saladin    Commador Lowe's office.
MD:5.2200.

"Gone?  What do you mean gone?" Toben said to the rather calm Lowe.
"I'm just 5 days late due to a family problem,  and my ship leaves with out
me!! Oh now thats just GREAT!"  Commador Lowe was realy starting to get
anoyed with this 'Counselor'
"CALM DOWN!!"  Lowe said, extremly anoyed at this persons bantter.  The
shout was such a surprise to Toben he just stood there quietly and waited
for his superior officer to speek.
"Now,  thats better.  Now lieutenant,  if I can get a word in.  A Romulan
science vessile operating in the area has come under some small damage from
an ion storm on the way back to The Romulan homeworld.  We being the nearest
repear facillity offerd to give a hand in the repear effort.  I've talked to
the Captain,  and He says that there is now problem with you traveling to
with them, and then trancefer to the Thunderchild."

**Great, Romulans.  I could never stand Romulans.**Thought Jolinar as he was
about the thank the commador.  "Thank you sir."
"The Verinak is docked at docking bay 2."

*******************************
Colin Humphreys
Toben Jolinar CNS
USS Thunderchiled
*******************************


--------------------------
NRPG:  This is my first post on the TC.  As of now,  The Counselor is
onbord.



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MD 6.0310
SCENE:
Planet, ch'Rihan (Romulus) Re'nleitji 0830 Local Time
Security Transport Center


Janex s'Riahnin gave her credentials and Ced Gatewood's
to the Security officer at Re'nletji's Transport
Center. They had waited in line for ten minutes behind
several Romulans. He studied the credentials carefully,
and cross referenced their names with his schedule
before handing them their credentials back.

"Your documents are in order. You are scheduled for
transport to Ra'tleihfi, at 0952. You are free to leave
but if you do, you must be back for reprocessing at
least 30 minutes prior to your scheduled departure, or
0922."

"Thank you." Janex said to him, taking back their
credentials as he offered them.  Janex and Gatewood
walked away from the security station and out into the
Transport Center lobby.

Janex said to Gatewood, "Well, we can stay here, wait
an hour and a half, or we can leave and come back in
fifty minutes, and do that over again."

Gatewood looked at the number of Romulan Security
Officers in the lobby. They had practically formed a
gauntlet as the two of them had walked into the STC
just fifteen minutes earlier. He had no burning desire
to do that again. Janex had shown him a good time, but
he already had had his fill of Romulus. The mood there
was, Janex notwithstanding, decidedly anti-Terran. Ally
or not, he did not feel welcomed by the Romulans.  And
despite the flavor of his escort, he was beginning to
suffocate from the constant presence of Janex at his
side. The only time now he had to be alone without her
in the room was when he had to take a dump.

There were storefronts in the STC lobby. One was a
Romulan cafe. Gatewood suggested they grab a table,
order something, and grab a paper, to kill the time.

Janex seemed to sense he was getting bored with the
distraction, the constant supervision. His suggestion
meant less hassle for them later and she agreed to it.


There was a newstand in the lobby, and a Federation
Standard language edition of the Ra'tleihfi Capital
Times daily. It was Yesterdays edition, and the news
was strictly edited by the RSE. The header slogan was
"All The News That's Fit For You", but Gatewood didn't
care. The paper was a concession to the Alliance with
the Federation, just as Romulan language editions of
the Federation News Service were. As it was, the
Capital Times was the only paper supplying a Federation
edition, which was only in its third year.

Gatewood sipped at a thick, steaming, oily coffee with
an earthy taste. The only sweetener available was a
sickening artificial sugar derivative packaged in
plastic pink packets with blue lettering that looked
like leftovers from some 21st Century shuttle flight.
He pushed the mug away and hoped it would taste better
cold.

He opened the paper and began reading a typically dull
story trumpeting a local Ra'tleihfi primary school that
had taken top honors as having the best test scores of
any primary school in the Empire. He realized that
holding the paper up, obscuring Janex from his view, he
could almost pretend she was not there. IT almost felt
like he was getting some time to himself. It felt
good.

The day before he had asked her if she knew where his
uniform had been at all times. She had said no....his
thoughts shifted back to the previous day and night.

:::  Ced had sat down on the bed next to the jacket and
lifted it up. "Then has anyone else, besides you, and
me, been in this room, since we arrived?"

She had said 'no'.

"Good." He had said. "I wouldn't want anyone to steal
or tamper with it. Its a gift from my mother..." he
lied to her.

He had folded it carefully, and locked it in his bag.
They spent the rest of the day in the village, walking
and talking. That afternoon had turned to a cold rain,
and they spent it by the fireplace in his room and
swapping stories of growing up.  They had an early
dinner, and she agreed to spend the night in his room,
in his bed.

She fell asleep before Ced, and he lay awake in the
bed, hands interlocked behind his head, listening to
the quiet sounds of the bed and breakfast settling; the
central heating units quietly cycling on, and someone
in another room turning on their shower. He looked at
her lying next to him, asleep. Some light filtered in
from across the street, and it lit her face in a
flattering way, highlighting her beauty. He knew from
the report she'd received before dinner that the next
morning they'd be dropping the Stormskimmer off in
Re'nleitji, and Transporting back to the Capital City
of Ra'tleihfi. She awoke, opening her eyes. He was lost
in his thoughts, didn't see her see him looking at her.
She pulled him to her and they embraced. She reached
down and touched him, and he was immediately aroused.
She gently moved him aside and reached down and removed
her panties, then pulled him back to her.  They made
love again, a slow deliberate rhythm, as natural as a
Romulan/Terran mating could be. She reached up to his
chest and brushed her fingers against his nipples.

As he felt himself getting close, his thought shifted
wildly, from lies, to truth, to easing pain. From
Janex, to Deborah Blante, to the girl who rented them
the Stormskimmer yesterday, back to Janex, back to
Deborah, back to that girl....in his mind's eye, he was
getting all three at once. Or none at all.

Alone. Even in a world of billions. Even inside
another. I am Gatewood, hear me roar. His thoughts
shifted wildly. I am alone. And I am with you, all the
way. :::


"Ced? Ced? Are you reading that page, or sleeping
behind there?" Janex tugged at the paper, snapping
Gatewood out of his 'deep thoughts'. "You've been on
the same page for five minutes. Surely the local school
scores aren't THAT interesting..."



submitted by,

XO Sherdrick Gatewood
USS Thunderchild

-Noah Rains



[NRPG: This will be wrapping up soon, I promise! Cap'n
Ramius decision to remain behind is a wrinkle that will
be dealt with. We will be getting at least one new crew
member, I believe, when we return to the Starbase. Any
shore leaves should comply with the details spelled out
in the posts by Deitrahs & Kfarad. Engineering should
make sure the ship is in tip top shape for a Warp 5
return to Saladin once we leave. Lt. Gatewood will
probably want to take a couple of sessions with the
Counselor on the way back to Saladin.]



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Deitrahs regarded the newly-crowned XO.  They'd been back from Romulus
about a day, and the party celebrating Gatewood's captaincy had been going
full-tilt for most of that time.  Quintela, by now, was deep in his cups.

>This is XO George Quintela I am glad to be onboard the best ship on the Fleet.

**Priceless!**   "Huh?  Best ship in the fleet?  I thought we were on the
Thunderchild, George..."  Snickers of appreciation echoed throughout the
bar they'd commandeered for the party;  everyone was glad Deitrahs was back
to its normal cheerfully abrasive self.

Deitrahs' duty was simple.  Since it couldn't get hammered like the rest of
the crew, it was one of the few coherent souls in the room.  However, the
large domed structure of its body made a damned fine casualty transport.
Passed-out crewman were loaded onto its back like cordwood, and the Horta
would take them back to the Thunderchild and dump them into their quarters
to finish sleeping it off.

**Wups... there goes Slotty.**  Deitrahs shuffled over and shoveled the
defunct engineer into position.

A Horta's work is never done.

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This is XO George Quintela I am glad to be onboard the best ship on the Fleet.

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