There are 4 messages in this issue.
Topics in this digest:
1. [Calypso] Filling in the Gaps... (JP)
From: Ron Lund <rermjmt@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
2. [USS Calypso-B] Early Riser
From: Bianca Payne <biancaknox@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
3. Reminder: Check the Message Board, 11/4/2005, 12:00 am
From: WeaversFiction
4. [DL-D] Protecting the family jewels
From: "Tree Deutscher" <treedr@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
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Message: 1
Date: Thu, 3 Nov 2005 04:23:43 -0800 (PST)
From: Ron Lund <rermjmt@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [Calypso] Filling in the Gaps... (JP)
[USS Calypso, Captain's Office]
Guenthar rang the Captain's door, and waited for permission to enter.
Once admitted, the new tactical officer walked briskly to the front and
center of the Captain's desk. "Ensign Guenthar Tachlan, re****ting
aboard, Sir!!"
Brant arched a brow at the stiffness of the greeting. But, then he
doubted he would ever get use to the strict proprieties of protocol.
"Welcome aboard Ensign, have a seat."
Guenthar responded smartly by taking a seated attention in the chair in
front of the Captain's desk.
Brant had seen a lot of interbreed species in his travels but none
quite like this. Tellarite and Nausiccan, who the heck had come up with
that one? It was definitely a pairing that spelled trouble. Of course
his mind was full of questions, but the weariness Reed felt was making
it a bit difficult to focus as well as he should. Quickly scanning the
file, he managed to hold back a yawn. Damn, he needed some serious
sleep.
Seeing the information about the electrostatic charge, and also
noticing the 'holes' in the file, Brant sighed to himself. "I'm
guessing you've shown some great restraint, Ensign Tachlan, or
Starfleet wouldn't consider assigning you to a ****p." He said
thoughtfully, not really expecting an answer. "I do hope this 'natural'
electrostatic charge I'm seeing here won't be a problem?" Not giving
the officer a chance to answer, the Captain continued. "As the Tactical
Officer you will be working closely with the Chief of Security. She is
a Cheron, so I trust this won't be a problem?"
At the mention of his "shocking" trait, Guenthar quickly pushed his
sleeves back down over the bushy quills on his forearms. "Sir, except
for unexpected violations of my personal space, there will be no
further incidents of discharge," he replied smartly. "And I welcome the
op****tunity to interact with every member of the crew, especially those
who might share a "unique" perspective, such as myself..."
"Unique perspective, 'eh?" Brant chuckled. "Well, just don't be frying
any of the circuits, and I don't think I have to tell you to be
extremely careful in Engineering."
"I understand completely, sir..." Guenthar replied stiffly, still at
attention in his chair.
"Oh I don't think you do Ensign!" Reed chuckled. "Our Chief Engineer
may be little, but so was Mighty Mouse! If you start messing with 'her'
****p, whether it be inadvertently or not, you ain't big enough to come
up against that temper!"
"Mighty Mouse, Sir?" Guenthar asked.
The Caly Captain grinned, "Ancient Earth icon, but suffice it to say,
Tachlan, it goes with the old saying that dynamite comes in small
packages!" Brant sighed and rubbed his forehead, "I do apologize for
the rashness of our new Flight Control Officer. He's been duly
reprimanded, not that I think it had much of an effect. But do try to
leave him in one piece please. I still need him to fly this boat!" He
knew how he would have felt if he'd been cut off like that, especially
approaching a new duty station, so Brant had no illusions as to what
the half-breed in front of him was feeling.
"Re****t to Ensign Coltrane, he is the Ops Officer in charge and he will
assign you some quarters, then re****t to sickbay for a physical and, go
see the Counselor. Trust me if you don't go see her, she will find you!
Counselor MacKendle is like a pit bull with a bone when she gets onto
something, so I'm telling you know avoiding her will not work!
Unfortunately, we are limited to only an EMH at the moment, but it's a
standing order that all personnel have a physical and a psychological
workup on file."
Guenthar cringed when the Captain informed him that the EMH would be
performing his physical. Guenthar and holograms didn't get along that
well, and one that acted like a humanoid and seemed to interact with
people just made him uncomfortable inside. Guenthar wanted to ask more
questions, but the Captain looked exhausted, and he knew better than to
prompt questions without permission. With the long, uncomfortable
pause, Guenthar imagined that it was time for him to go. Snapping
smartly from his chair to attention, Guenthar replied, "Aye, sir...
right away, sir!" Rendering a salute, Guenthar waited to be dismissed.
Leaning back in his chair to stretch his legs, the tired Captain gazed
thoughtfully for several long moments at the new Tactical Officer.
"Tachlan, I'd be lying if I didn't say that your 'heritage' didn't
concern me, that you concern me." Guenthar dropped his salute, now
realizing that he wasn't going to be dismissed. Leaning forward, any
friendliness in the Senior Officer's demeanor disappeared. "There are
holes in this personnel file that I could fly this ****p through, which
tells me that HQ has their eye on you! I don't like being spied on,
Ensign, and I'll tell you the same thing I told Tempete... you cross me
and I'll chuck you out of an airlock so fast it will make your head
spin!" This whole situation was highly irregular, two good officers
being yanked and replaced by ... these two.
Guenthar was taken aback by the sudden change in Brant Reed's demeanor,
but outwardly remained calm. Although Tusk respected the Captain's
concerns, he had been assailed that like this from other tem****ary
assignments for far less im****tant and more personal reasons. "With all
due respect, Captain, you need to have a family to have a heritage..."
he stated matter-of-factly, in the attempt to gain the attention of the
Captain. Apparently, Guenthar won his moment to explain. "There are
holes in my record, sir, due to the unusual circumstances under which I
came to Starfleet's attention. You see, I am the adopted son of Doctors
Salvadore and Valentina Tachlan..."
"The names are familiar," Brant interjected, his brow furrowing
together in deep thought, "If memory serves me they were listed as
missing possibly killed on assignment."
"They weren't killed, however," Guenthar explained. "Their experimental
gravimetric warp sled ended up deep within Romulan Space. They were
captured and forced by the Tal ****ar to continue their work for the
Star Empire at one of their research facilities... that is where they
found me. I am the result of an abandoned genetic-engineering
experiment performed by the Tal ****ar," Tachlan continued on. "I was
sent back to this sector as the last test-pilot of the Tachlan's final
experiment. I can only presume they are dead now," Guenthar lamented.
"I have been the "pet" of Starfleet Research ever since. In return for
"acclimating" me to the Federation and Starfleet, they have studied my
physiology and psychology in the hopes of discerning more about the
Romulans or the advancements the Tachlans made. Can you imagine how
that kind of information may hinder an otherwise promising career for
me, Captain??" Tachlan finally asked his new CO. "According to SFR & D,
I am not to discuss my past with anyone without their prior consent,
under penalty of quarantine. I can't live under the blanket of secrecy
forever, Captain... I only hope that this conversation will remain off
the record, and that you'll allow me to still serve with your crew..."
Guenthar requested of Captain Reed.
Brant Reed nodded, letting out a long slow sigh. A genetic experiment,
damn that was the last thing he expected and it was something that
didn't sit well with him. He understood the need for scientific
research, but sometimes there were places it just shouldn't go. Leaning
on the desk he steepled his fingers, his thumbs thoughtfully stroking
his beard, "I appreciate your honesty Ensign. I hate games and I hate
secrets, in fact it irritates the hell out of me!" He knew this was a
mental residual from his own past. All the lies and deceit culminating
in the death of his own Father. He hated the SFIA with a passion
because of it, and he also knew they kept close tabs on him because of
Brant Sr.'s erroneous past and it irritated him even more knowing there
was nothing he could do about it. "It's obvious you cared a great deal
for the Tachlans and I am sorry for what's happened. Unfortunately for
your adoptive parents if they are still alive and the Tal ****ar has
them, sadly it would be
better for them if they are dead."
Visibly relaxing somewhat he gave the man a sardonic smile,. "We all
have our demons Guenther, I lost my own Dad many years ago, I can
understand a little of your pain and your obvious frustration,
especially with Starfleet," he continued using the tacitical officers
given name. Crossing his arms Brant shook his head the corner of his
mouth curving slightly upward,, "You know Ensign Tachlan, considering
the information you've just shared I'm not sure if you're going to be a
charm or a hindrance. But, I was never much one for worrying about
things like that. It's obvious you are highly qualified for at least
more then one position on this ****p which is definitely to my benefit
and right now that's all I'm going to worry about. You do your job, and
we'll get along just fine, and of course what you want the crew to know
is up to you."
"Thank you, Captain..." Guenthar replied, finally dropping from his
pretentious stiffness. Guenthar reached out across the desk to shake
the Captain's hand. Brant gave Guenthar a wrangled brow for this
harmless violation of protocol. Guenthar replied, "If I am to be in
charge of your weapons and the external security of your ****p, sir, you
need to know you can trust me and the level of my restraint. I
guarantee you won't get shocked..." The Captain slowly reached out to
touch his new Tac Officer's hand, then firmly shook it when there was
no discharge.
Guenthar then returned to his position, with what appeared to be a
smile on his Tellarite/Nausicaan mug... a disturbing yet comforting
visual. "Permission to engage my duties, sir?" Guenthar cordially
requested as he snapped off a salute.
"Dismissed, Guenthar," Captain Reed returned the salute, smirking at
the eager young Ensign's love of protocol.
"Thank you, sir!" Guenthar replied as he turned to and moved briskly
towards the door. Turning back, Guenthar added, "and, sir, my friends
call me Tusk..."
Summary: Guenthar and the Captain come to terms about his heritage and
the holes in his record.
Respectfully submitted by:
Captain Brant Reed, CO of the Calypso-B
and
Ensign Guenthar Tachlan, Tactical Officer of the Calypso-B
---------------------------------
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Message: 2
Date: Thu, 3 Nov 2005 15:10:38 -0800 (PST)
From: Bianca Payne <biancaknox@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [USS Calypso-B] Early Riser
SD: 71103.1633
MD: 5.0545
Lt. jg Ortiz's Quarters
Van rolled over in her bed and glanced out her window and saw
star-studded black and the edge of a green and blue planet. She heard
the faint but constant hum of the ****p engines. She did not hear the
soft pounding rhythm of the ocean. She smiled sleepily, tempted to
snuggle back into her bed, but she was meeting with Reed later this
morning for breakfast and re****ts. She had to get up. Her alarm was
still in pieces on the floor from the other day when she'd thrown it
against the wall. It wouldn't wake her up if she fell asleep again.
She tossed back the covers and stumbled into the living room and over
to her replicator. "Coffee, Columbian, black, hot." The mug
materialized and issued steam into the room. She sipped it cautiously
and gratefully, blinking in the dim lit room. "Lights, half power."
The room flared to life, but not as bright as it could be. Her
grandmother's quilt was still rumpled on the sofa where Conner had
crashed over the other night after the rum and darts incident. Her
plants needed misting. She grabbed the green glass bottle and sprayed
down the vivid purple orchid growing in a pot on her desk, and the two
lush ferns while she drained her mug of coffee. She padded over to
the replicator again and ordered a second round.
Still sipping, she sat down at her desk and pulled up her console to
check the latest re****ts from her staff and her mail. She had a
communication from her folks. Her youngest brother Santiago had been
accepted into the Academy and her sister Maria-Celeste was pregnant
with her fourth child. Her husband Ramon swore this one would be a
boy. She composed a couple of quick responses of congratulations
before turning her attention to her staff re****ts.
By 0615 she had gotten her re****ts ready and had finished cup number
three and was feeling human again. She dematerialized the mug, headed
for the shower, shrugged out of her nightgown, and enjoyed a blissful
extra five minutes of hot water. Dried and clean she pulled on a fresh
uniform and shoes, and grabbed her PADD. She stuck it between her
teeth as she headed out the door, still twisting up her hair and
jabbing in bobby pins to hold it in place. It was still clamped
between her teeth when she growled a quick, "Hi" to the unfamiliar face
standing by the turbolift, eyeing him suspiciously while trying to work
the last pin into her hair in some hopefully useful position.
He was human and he looked like trouble, given the smirk on his too
pretty face. Giving up on her hair, she took the PADD out of her
mouth. "You must be the new FCO."
The door to the turbolift opened and they both stepped inside. "Deck
3," she stated.
"Right in one. How did you know?"
"You look like a flyboy." She grinned fiercely at him. The door
opened on the corridor that led to the Cave. Van stepped out of the
turbolift and headed for her meeting with the captain, PADD in hand.
She called over her shoulder as a parting shot. "Break my ****p and
I'll break your face, flyboy."
<Tag, Peter?>
Respectfully submitted by,
Lt. jg Evangelina "Van" Ortiz, CEO, USS Calypso-B
Aka Bianca Payne
NRPG: FYI Van's biofile and some pics are in the Files section of the
yahoogroup if you want to check it out.
Summary:
MD: 5.0545
Van wakes up, spends a little while prepping for her meeting and
downing coffee before bumping into the new FCO on her way to her 0700
meeting with the captain. She gives him a little welcome.
---------------------------------
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Message: 3
Date: 3 Nov 2005 23:50:23 -0000
From: WeaversFiction
Subject: Reminder: Check the Message Board, 11/4/2005, 12:00 am
Reminder from the Calendar of WeaversFiction
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Message: 4
Date: Thu, 3 Nov 2005 23:03:57 -0800
From: "Tree Deutscher" <treedr@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [DL-D] Protecting the family jewels
Day 130
(Last hour before hatching)
{Out on partol}
Samson had done a lot of crazy things in his life but Lexi had never
seen a dragon do a back flip in mid air, heck he'd never seen a dragon
do a back flip period. They just weren't physically made to do that,
especially with a man on their back. Unfortunately Samson had done it
and he just happened to be the man! Even though he was strapped in
tightly Lexi was sure his ass was now firmly lodged somewhere between
his eyes. *Just what the hell do you think you're doing?* he choked
out, his eyes still rolling in his head.
[THE EGGS ARE GONNA BE HATCHING SOON! I GOTTA BE THERE!] Samson shouted
not thinking how his exuberance might affect his rider. The excited
mindshout was so loud it had Lexi squinching his eyes in pain and
grabbing his head. *Dammit Samson tone it down some!* He hollered back
starting to feel a bit queasy.
[We gotta hurry!] The crimson and orange male answered mindlessly,
thankfully in a softer tone. Without warning he barrel rolled beneath
Byorn just missing his patrol partner, the single-minded purpose of the
expectant father was plainly evident. The surprising surge of raw power
and speed had Lexi gasping for air. Samson had never moved this fast in
his whole life and as strong as the big man was his cheeks were firmly
ensconced behind his ears and all Lexi could do was hold on. *Jeezus,
it's just a hatching!"
[But it's my hatching!] came the terse reply.
[..] a short while later
They were just over the crater rim when the coldness of the tele****t
surrounded the smithy and they suddenly reappeared only a few feet
above the crater floor. Seeing the ground so close Lexi instinctively
tried to jump but was held fast by the harness. The big male though had
no such fears, using his tail at first like a rudder then as anchor he
slapped the powerful appendage downward his body rearing up while his
massive wings billowed open like huge sails quickly slowing his
momentum. Dropping his dewclaws into the grass on the green large
furrows appeared as Samson skidded until he gracefully and quite
suddenly came to an abrupt halt.
Totally unprepared for the whole situation Lexi slammed forward in the
saddle his 'family jewels' taking the brunt of the impact. Collapsing
over the saddle horn in intense pain the blacksmith gasped for air. His
eyes watered from the stabbing pain in his groin and it took sheer
strength of will for him to fumble enough with the saddle straps to
release them
With his thoughts on the golden queen Samson was oblivious to his
rider's pain as he began to impatiently crow hop, the motion
conveniently sliding his rider out of the saddle. [Hurry up! Hurry up!
I need to get in there!]
Lexi managed somewhat to break his fall but still emitted a loud grunt
as he hit the ground and curled up in a ball, his agonized groans
bringing a round of sympathy from the male riders who'd gathered.
"Lexi, are you okay?" Sharees asked in concern, her beautiful face
swimming before his eyes.
The tone of her voice caught Samson's attention and he was torn between
his desire to rush off to his queen and the fact that his rider was
really hurting. Bending down he ****ged Lexi's shoulder with his scaly
snout. To which a rock hard fist shot out to pop him square between his
nostrils.
"Ya dumb lizard!!!" The smithy croaked out hoarsely. "*That was a real
flash of brilliance, you shoulda thought about tele****ting in the first
place instead of trying to kill me!*"
Samson's head snapped upward. [Yup, Big Guy's ok!] The reddish giant
spun on his claws and happily trotted off towards the hatching cavern.
<Snip>
Tingling in her mind told her that the Red was talking to her, *Hello
Beautiful, so how goes the mistress of war, or more specific should my
rider meet her with his armor on?* the thought was teasing and
Galendriel was glad to have Samson back to cuddle with once more.
<End>
Watching the retreating dragon the blacksmith grumbled pu****ng himself
up to a seated position. The pain was subsiding some, but his legs
still felt like mush. Glancing over at the woman who was squatted down
next to him Lexi growled in pained irritation. "Stupid dragon!"
Sharees sapphire eyes were bright with caring and a definite hint of
amusement as she pursed her lips trying to hide a relieved smile as
Lexi protectively cradled his groin, "You know, that looked like it
really hurt!"
'It's not funny woman!" He snapped with a boyish pout. "You know you
could be a little more sympathetic!"
..
Unable to hide her mirth Sharees reached out to tenderly caress his
beard "Oh gosh Sweetie, does it hurt and have a temperature?"
Lexi's eyes narrowed as he struggled to his feet. Managed to straighten
he was still shaky and wobbled a bit getting his footing. Sharees
instantly slid under his arm for sup****t.
Glaring at her grin, "I think he broke it!" Lexi huffed slowly testing
the ground to make sure his legs would hold him.
Sagging slightly under the blacksmith's weight Sharees buried her face
into his side no longer able to suppress her giggles.
"You know Sharees you really are a sick, sick woman!" He exclaimed
squeezing her shoulder affectionately.
"OK! Shows over gang, the Big Man's gonna live!" Max called out to
disperse the small crowd that had gathered.
"Contrary to popular belief that really isn't a fatal wound, even
though I'm sure the guys think it is!" Bitsy from Beta Wing giggled to
some of the other female riders.
"It's not funny!" One of the guys snorted in reply as the riders
drifted off in different directions to continue whatever task had been
interrupted by the red's dramatic entrance.
[..]
Samson was almost into the hatching cavern when he felt a sickening
feeling come over him. The big male tensed at Galendriel's sudden
silence. The odd tingling at the base of his skull was all to familiar
and he immediately went on the defensive.
<Snip>
But a nausea feeling did seem to creep into her mind and she felt the
hatchlings begin to panic. Galendriel rose up frantic now. What could.
The thought dropped off as the ground broke beneath the sand two eggs
disappearing into the holes left by what ever was coming up.
<End Snip>
A paralyzing fear swept through warren at the sound of Samson's
deafening roar of alarm. His queen was in trouble and the large male
charged for the mouth of the hatching cavern, the leathercrafter and
his rider, though still not quite completely recovered were not far
behind.
{Tag: Arle if you want to add anything? J }
Respectfully submitted,
Tree Deutscher
AKA
Lexi and Samson
***Summary***
Day Samson hurries back to the warren giving Lexi quite a ride in the
process. As he heads for the hatching cave he senses something bad and
his queens fear and raises the alarm.
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