ORIGINS: USS Hood July 2009

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ORIGINS: USS Hood Story Posts
Last Updated: 2262.059



Total Posts: 420+






USS HOOD: After the Drill.

by David Martens

SD: 2260.179
MD: 1.1627

Scene: USS HOOD, Science department

ARr'Rhiana sat behind her desk, several PADD's stacked around her, one in her hand. She was checking in on the reports from her crew during the drill. Althought most of them did rather well, there was a lot she was not so pleased about it and that was why she had called up for a meeting with her staff.

One by one they dropped in: Soffers, an average looking human male was the first. He was her administrative aide. Moments later D'FaQ'k joined them. He was a tall strong build Vulcan. One of the few who had decide to keep with StarFleet after the destruction of their homeworld. He was the divisions head, he decided wich of her teams got what assignment and who got what work. He was also a keen mind and swift scientist. The lack of emotions made it rather difficult to work with him at moments, but most of the time they could work out fine. Finally Martin and Sari showed up. Martin was her personal assistant and Sari was, well she had no specific task but had turned out to be a woman with the special talent to make everyone feel comfortable and notice problems very fast. Hemux had decided to make her the spokesman and counsellor for her team.

ARr'Rhiana nodded to them all and placed her hands on her desk, leaning in on them. "Miss Sari, gentlemen, let me start by saying that I am pleased that during the drill you all gave your best and performed rather satisfactorially."

She gave them a moment to think about it and D'FaQ'K raised an eyebrow "I assume that satisfactory is not excellent. So this means there are lackings in our performance?"

Hemux grinned and gave him a big smile, which wasn't so hard for a Denobulan and nodded "Indeed, it turned out several of our team have physical problems. Physical meaning of not enough endurance, not enough strength to perform as needed for a Starfleet officer and a lacking in reflexes. There where also several including you mister Soffers, who seemed to forgotten their proper first aide lessons, the use of the hyposyringe and how to lay a simple bandage."

ARr'Rhiana looked from one to the other "Some of you also have shown the lack of following orders during this drill. I know it's sometimes hard to be sure who is in command, but remember during combat you are not a scientist but a soldier for Star Fleet, then the military takes over."

She turned to Sari "You value your life more then our equipment and the experiments that are going on, but in case of emergency, a experiment can turn out just that bit more dangerous then it is under controlled circumstances. Sari, your team was busy with a experiment with plasma in a concealed forcefield. You rushed away at the initial alert without shutting that experiment down. If this had happened during a real incident it was very well possible that the forcefield had dropped and the plasma would have burned through several decks. There are procedures to follow, even under red alert!"

"Now, here are some of my remarks and recommendations...."

The next two hours they spend together going over their performance and tried to work out new rules, new training-exercises and new drills for their team. At the end Soffers asked to talk to her in private.

"What can I do for you, mister Soffers?"

He layed a PADD on her desk "These are the reports from StarFleet, they contain the latest reports from INTEL on what they know about the Klingon progress in their ship designs and tactical advances. I wanted you to have a look at them first. I know you had worked in Engineering also, I think we need to work out on our shields, weapons and engines. Also I have the last new developments in sensors, maybe we can talk with the enigineers and see if we can adjust our sensors and get just that litle bit more out them then we have now."

He sighed "and finally here are all reports you have asked on every of our team, their reports during the drill, their personal view on the situation, their specialities and so on."

Hemux nodded "Thank you, you know you did a good job during the drill. It is just that since Nero had shown up, Star Fleet has turned more to the military side then to their sceintiic and exploration task. It's just temporary, Soffers. In a few years things will ease down."

He grinned "I know, Ijust hope it's sooner then later, I don't like this drills and waving with weapons and so on. Anyway, I am looking forwards to get out again, space is a good place to find new things!"

Hemux looked as Soffers walked out, Space was indeed a beautiful place and full of new miracles to discover, but she never would forget it was also a dangerous place filled with hostility, a place humans and Denobulans or nay fragile organic being did not belong.

<<<NRPG>>>

Sorry for the long silence, school and real life had been consuming all my time and then I had to replace my computer as well. Anyway, I should be more posting again.

Respectfully,

David Martens
Lt ARr'Rhiana Hemux
CSciO , USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: After Action

by Andy Catterick, Scott Lusby, and Brian V. Mansur

SD 2260.185

MD: 1.1630

Scene: Captain's Day Cabin, B-Deck, USS HOOD


"Captain's log mission date 1.1630.

With the drill concluded I am about to meet with my first and second officer to discuss the results. All in all I have to say I'm generally pleased with the results, my death notwithstanding. The HOOD forces were eventually able to get the upper hand on the invading Klingons and reassert control of the ship. Additionally, the HOOD managed to destroy one of the Klingon cruisers and certainly would have finished off the other if it had not withdrawn.

Having said that there are a number of areas we need to work on if we are to be ready for the possibility or a real boarding. The attacking forces were able to access much more of the ship then they should have been able to and certainly it took longer to dislodge them than I would have predicted prior to the drill commencing. To be fair we didn't behave like a Klingon boarding party would have. Their goal would have been either to take over the ship or destroy it.

When I set the missions for the Gold team I purposefully decided to ignore obvious avenues to that end and instead focused on hit and run tactics designed more to disable secondary systems with the occasional critical system thrown in to keep the confusion going. Commendation to Ensign Cory Campbell who managed to keep control of Auxiliary Control for over two hours after I gave my life to ensure he got in. Of course, a commendation must also go to my Chief Engineer who was able to cut Aux Control out of the circuit 10 minutes after we took it. I look forward to hearing how he was able to accomplish this as I was certain I had locked engineering out. It's a good thing he's on my side.

"End log."

The door tone chimed. "Gentlemen come in," Steele said as the door retracted to reveal Commanders Merrick and Gar. Steele turned to face Yeoman Greene. "I think that about covers it."

"Yes sir." She smiled warmly. "If you need anything else sir, just buzz." On her way out, she gave a polite nod to Sean and Gar. "Sirs."

Lips pursed, Merrick forced his eyes off the cute yeoman in order to follow Steele's gaze. He was almost disappointed and a little impressed when it stayed squarely on the newcomers. Merrick decided to keep his mouth shut about how the yeoman's pleasantries had appeared just a moment ago.

After the door closed, Steele began. "Obviously I want to discuss the results of today's drill as well as our upcoming mission, but this evening is an informal one. Yeoman Greene has set a dinner buffet so help yourselves and pull up a chair."

Merrick and Gar loaded their plates up with cheeses, melon balls, and sliced roast beef. Steele, meanwhile, pulled out a couple of tablets. "Here you go. Read the news with your diner. Response times, casualties, and departmental evaluations for the day."

Merrick picked his up and glanced through it. "Pathetic pathetic pathetic," he growled and spun the pad round on the desk.

Steele laughed. "You won didn't you?"

"We should have lost after the way we fell over each other." He leaned back and chomped on a cheese slice. "Well, things did work out better once Gar and DeSimms had a good talking to the DAMCON guys."

"They'll wait for security from now on," Gar declared with all certainty. Merrick snickered as he imagined the nightmares that the Andorian and the Medal of Honor recipient must have inspired in the redshirts.

"The pee spots on the carpet give testament do they?" Steele asked. "So Gar, just how did you ever get AUXCON isolated?"

Gar and Merrick exchanged looks. "Can't tell you, sir." Gar said.

"Top Secret," Merrick put in.

"Would have to kill you if we did," Gar added.

Steele leveled a measuring glare and demanded, "You have five seconds before I space you both for mutiny."

"Been nice knowing you Gar," Merrick said mournfully.

Steele quietly counted down toward zero.

"Keystroke recording," Gar reluctantly muttered.

"Traitor," Merrick hissed.

"Ensign Campbell apparently forgot certain aspects of his own security program's updates." Gar rolled his eyes and flexed his antennae. "I was able to bypass his bypasses."

"That man is a rather brilliant idiot," Steele marveled. "And here I was going to give him a commendation for taking AUXCON. Well, maybe I still will. It was a rather remarkable job he did."

All of the sudden, Merrick became serious again. "Isn't there any way to get him off the ship. Without committing a political solecism I mean?"

"Would have been done already if it could be, Sean."

"Had to ask."

"I know. He may just save our butts again someday. He stays. At least for now."

Merrick looked at Steele for a few seconds clearly having an internal conflict about whether or not to speak up. For his part Gar was busy trying to look like he was examining which morsel on his plate was the next to be devoured. But his antennae clearly indicated that he knew what Merrick was thinking.

"Look guys, the reason this is informal is because we need to be come completely comfortable with each other. We need to trust each other implicitly. So out with it."

"The crew are calling Cory the captain's pet," Merrick said.

"Great." Steele sighed. "Well there's not much I can do about that." Then he brightened. "Actually there is. As first officer, I herby appoint you as his big brother and best friend. It's your job to make him into a model officer."

Merrick growled, "Since we're being all informal here let me point out that you're a real prince." Beside him Gar did his best not to laugh. "A real prince."

"It comes naturally," Steele glowed. "Behave Gar. I'm making you the Second Officer."

Gar looked up abruptly. "Captain," he said, his tone even, his pace deliberate, "you ARE aware that I haven't been Chief Engineer for more than a couple of months yet..."

Steele nodded. "I know all of that, Gar. And I also know how quickly you pulled a department together that had seen 3 bosses in a matter of a week."

Gar glanced at Merrick, his predecessor as the head of Engineering. "With all do respect, they're good men down there- they know their jobs, Captain."

Jack jumped in again. "And you didn't let them fall off, did you? No- these drill results notwithstanding, you've done well with them. And, not for nothing, but you have more experience than any of the other candidates."

Gar opened his mouth once again, but cut himself short. He knew, really, that the Captain was right: there WAS no one else, really, that matched his experience, and that continuing to protest would sound as if he lacked confidence in himself or his abilities. Gar was many things, yes...but he was not one to be inappropriately modest, that was certain.

So, instead, he pursed his lips tightly for a moment. "Well, I can't say that I wouldn't like more time to get used to running a department this large before taking this on," he said, his antennae pushing forward, "but I understand the situation, Captain. You'll have my best effort."

Steele nodded. "I know I will," he said. "That's why I gave you the job."

Now, Jack leaned back in his chair again, and continued his earlier discussion. "Seriously though, yes we are stuck with Cory, but it's our job to give everyone a chance and the support they need. He's a screw up but not in a malicious way, and he is brilliant and motivated just not always in the same direction as the rest of us." He paused to reach over to the table and grabbed a few more sandwiches. "Now, this mission. Are we ready?"

Gar, perhaps filled with a bit of newly-felt pride, chimed in first. "Depends on what we come across," he said. "Are we ready for Klingons? No. We need to drill more until the DAMCON teams stop attacking boarders and the Security teams react quicker to orders to repel boarders. And Engineering needs more work on making repairs under combat conditions- with the boarders, we didn't get a chance work on that as much as I would like. But I'd say Dr. Corbett is ready for any kind of mass casualty situation that may arise--"

"As long as he doesn't think every defense is the Alamo revisited," Merrick chimed in with a smirk.

<<<NRPG>>>

Hi all: Just a reminder I (Andy) will be away til Thursday. At that point I'll get the mission going. SO in the meantime feel fre to conduct smaller drills' have your characters interact etc. Dan G you can post yourself on ship whenever is good.


Respectfully Submitted,
Andy
CAPT Jack Steele
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS

-- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'eleneth
Chief Engineer
USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS

Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Sour Grapes and Fears of Scattered Atoms

by Steve Apple

SD 2260.185

MD: 1.1630

Scene: CMO's Quarters, USS HOOD


Corbett had just finished reading the reports from his staff on the Mass Casualty Drill when the door chime to his quarters sounded. Pushing the enter button he sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.

"Welcome back from the dead Cowboy." His head nurse said as she walked through the door and sat down. "I see you have your black hat on, still in mourning I take it."

"One must grieve for the appropriate amount of time Mother, mostly for appearance sake mind you." He said pulling out a bottle of tequila and 2 glasses.

"Thanks," she said accepting one of the glasses. "So how did we fare."

"The Captain seems to be very pleased with the teams overall medical performance as am I."

"But." She said.

"It's nothing." He said looking away.

"Come on Cowboy, you can tell me."

Corbett looked around the room trying not to face his Chief Nurse. "If you must know one of the umpires and I had a little disagreement."

"So that's why you're confined to quarters until tomorrow."

"Yes I've been placed in isolation to think about my bad behavior." He said frowning.

"So what was the problem?" She asked.

"The umpire was being totally unreasonable mind you."

"Uh huh," She said. "Over what."

"The insufferable lout denied my third kill. He said that using a neural paralyzer on an enemy was against the rules."

"And you did what?" She asked trying to keep from laughing.

"I told him that it was totally within the realm of possibility that giving a neural paralyzer could be considered lethal and at the very least incapacitating."

"So you just told him that?" She asked leaving the question hanging.

"Well no, I sort of injected him. I had to prove my point you see." Corbett said taking a long sip from his glass.

It took the Chief Nurse a few minutes to stop laughing. "I take it the umpire didn't find it funny."

"No he did not. In fact the rogue threatened to file charges against me."

"That sounds serious." She said.

"Fortunately the Captain found it rather amusing and sent me to my room to think about what I had done."

"So what's the bottom line?"

"I was forced to give the blaggard half a box of my finest Cuban cigars and two bottles of tequila as hush money." Corbett said incensed.

The Chief Nurse took a few moments to compose herself after the second fit of laughter faded. "So I take it you want me to handle the department debrief."

"If you would be so kind," Corbett said smiling. "Let the department know I am exceedingly pleased that the average response rate was two minutes and twenty three seconds by the trauma teams. "

"That's the best response rate I've seen on any ship." Mother replied.

"It better well have been. I also want to complement Dr. Kavlin on the good job he did getting patients through emergency surgery and into the sickbay ICU."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that. Anything else?"

"No not really. " He said looking at the frown on her face. "Other than I put a commendation in for you and your nurses on the exemplary way you handled triage and got the patients with minor injuries back to duty."

Corbett watched the smile grow on her face. "The nurses will really appreciate that." She said.

"Both you and they deserve it for all the effort you put forth into helping the crew."

"Thanks Cowboy it's nice to be appreciated." Mother said.

"My pleasure ma'am." He said taking his hat off and putting it over his heart in salute.

"Merrick to Corbett." Came the voice over Corbett's desktop comm..

"Corbett here, to what do I owe the pleasure sar." He said as he handed Mother the reports on her way out.

"Thought you might be getting cabin fever Doc. How'd you like to take a little trip with DeSimms and me down to Outpost 8."

"I shall be there with bells on sar. What time would you like to gather at the shuttle bay?" Corbett asked.

There was a long pause before Commander Merrick answered. "We're not taking a shuttle doctor we're transporting down, is there a problem with that."

Corbett downed the rest of his glass of tequila before answering. "No sar, no problem whatsoever."

"Good I'll see you in the transporter room in thirty minutes. Merrick out."

Corbett poured himself another glass and downed it before the shaking in his hands caused the white liquid to spill. Standing he went to his sleeping area and traded his black hat for the white one.

"You can do this." he said to himself as he smoothed the brim of his hat with his thumb and forefinger before heading out the door.


Scene: Transporter Room, USS HOOD


Corbett entered through the doors to the Transporter Room on what felt like shaky legs and saw that Merrick and DeSimms where already there talking with the transporter chief.


"Are you OK Doc?" Merrick asked noticing how pale Corbett was.


"I am right as rain sar; however I must confess I am not a fan of this contraption." Corbett said, gesturing toward the transporter, his voice tinged with anxiety and maybe a bit of paranoia. "I don't believe God intended man to have his atoms scrambled into a million pieces."

"This is the safest form of travel, nothing to be scared of here Doc." The Transporter Chief said.

"Sar I make it a point never to trust a device that uses buffers based on a principle that's main title is uncertainty. It's just bad juju." Corbett replied.

"Are you sure you are up to this." Merrick said a bit concerned.

"I am a Texan sar. I am always up to the challenge." Corbett said as he stepped onto the pad and began humming.

"Energize." Merrick said shaking his head and chuckling.



Respectfully Submitted,

Steve Apple
Dr. Stile Corbett
CMO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
ASR ORIGINS


USS HOOD: Redshirts Under Fire

by Scott Lusby and Daniel Belin

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Redshirts Under Fire" Joint Post by: Scott Lusby (LCDR Gar Th'elenth) and Daniel Belin (LT John DeSimms)


SD: 2260.192
MD: 1.1545
Setting: Gymnasium, H-Deck, USS HOOD


Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth stood next to the HOOD's Chief of Security, Lieutenant John DeSimms, and panned his view across the assemblage in front of him.

It was a large assemblage, too- that's why this meeting was in the Gym- what with 250+ engineers and 200+ security personnel, a big room was needed just so they all FIT.

Gar's engineers were standing at parade rest on the left side of the large group. His antennae twitched as he began to speak. "The results from the drill were TERRIBLE," he began. "Yes, you were thrown some wrinkles; yes, it was only a drill...but the results were plain UNACCEPTABLE."

He paused; no one spoke a word during it. "What pains me the most," he continued, "is that most of the problems could have- no, SHOULD have been avoided."

The Andorian began to walk down the front row of his men, slowly. Then, he stopped- in front of Chief Kowalczyk. "You attacked a squad of Klingon shock troops trying to enter Auxiliary Control."

Kowalczyk stood rigid. "Yes, Sir."

Th'elenth's antennae pitched forward. "Tell me- are you a security officer?"

"No, Sir."

"So why did you attack them?"

Kowalczyk appeared confused by the question. "Sir-- I know it was just a drill, but...well, they were Klingons, and they were trying to take control of the ship."

Gar nodded. "Yes, they were," he said. "And though your courage and determination are admirable, you didn't THINK about situation closely enough- and it got you and your team 'killed.'"

Gar stepped back from Kowalczyk. "Don't worry, Chief- you weren't alone; several other DamCon teams did the same thing, each resulting in the same problem- they were killed."

"Begging the Commander's pardon," Kowalczyk spoke up, "but what SHOULD we have done?"

Gar held his temper in check; someone at his rating should really know better. "What you SHOULD have done was wait for one of Lieutenant DeSimms' teams to arrive," Gar said loudly. "They are the experts in small unit tactics and in close-quarter fighting, not you; you are experts in emergency repairs. You all heard the intruder alert warning over the comm; you knew Security had been dispatched to the area. You should have waited, and assisted them IF they asked for it."

Kowalczyk swallowed hard. "And the 'plasma fire'?"

Gar stepped back to the chief, now only a few centimeters from his face. "It could have waited a few minutes; waiting a few minutes is better than never getting it done, Chief."

"Now, Security. I wish I had nice things to say to you," said DeSimms, narrowing is eyes. He continued, "You shouldn't have taken so long to get to the intruders. You have engineers attempting to deal with a plasma fire, and they can't because of the Klingons. That's where you are supposed to come in."

At this point, one of the security team leaders, Szymczyk, interrupted DeSimms. "Sir, respectfully, the turbolifts went down and we got stuck in them."

DeSimms cut the Ensign off, "That's a lesson to you. Don't use the goddamn turbolifts, one button pressed and there goes your attack. The point is, by the end of this week I want you to know this ship better than the damn engineers. Got it?"

Now Gar took the floor again, and began addressing his engineers again. "On top of continuing to drill alongside Lieutenant DeSimms' teams so as to avoid further problems in this area, there will be times that they CANNOT get to your area quick enough and you'll be left to your own devices. In THOSE situations, well, you may end up defending a position instead of fixing it."

He paused again before continuing. "So, for the next several weeks, I want everyone here to brush up on their basic combat skills- marksmanship with your phaser and hand-to-hand combat. I realize that you're Engineers, and that the Academy only gave you a basic working knowledge of each, but it seems to me that a bit more is needed. My people have a saying: 'A warrior first'- and while Starfleet considers us explorers first, this drill illustrated the need to be prepared for ALL contingencies." He gestured to DeSimms. "The Lieutenant has been kind enough to offer Security's services to help you 'reacquaint' yourselves with your inner warrior."

The Andorian paused again, and looked straight at Kowalczyk. "If we're going to fight, we may as well learn how to do it right," he said, the corners of his lips curling slightly as he recognized the spark behind Kowalczyk's eyes.

"Okay, I want everyone back in this room at 0800 hours. We will start with phaser marksmanship, so I advise you to stop by the armory to get a phaser issue. My second in command, Luther, will lead the engineering practice, and I will lead the security drills. Dismissed!"


<<NRPG- from Scott>>

All- just tying off the drill repercussions with a nice JP. ;)


Respectfully Submitted,

-- Daniel F. Belin
/\ LT John DeSimms
Chief of Security
USS HOOD NCC-1703

AND
-- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth
Chief Engineer
USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Drop and Roll

by Brian Mansur, Steve Apple, and Daniel Belin

SD 2260.185


MD: Day 7, 1145 Hours

Scene: IKS BLOOD OATH, Near Outpost 8 System


The low screech of the bridge's bare metal blast doors heralded the arrival of the fleet commander.


"Report!" demanded Commodore Koreth.


"Federation battlecruiser entering the system," Par'rick proudly replied. "Their shields are down. If they suspect our presence, they are being subtle about it."


"My lord!" the warrior at communications shouted. "Coded transmissions from the enemy vessel. The outpost is responding in kind."


Koreth took his chair. To himself he all but purred, "Standard procedure along the border of course. All is well here, my Federation friends. No ships were seen coming in on the ecliptic behind the sun. Just like the last 3 outposts we destroyed."


The maneuver had been time consuming, but quite worthwhile. Against the local star's glare, the Klingon flotilla was unlikely to be noticed. They needed only to stay below the stellar horizon: away from any line-of-sight to the outpost, until the time was right.


Koreth had to marvel at the Starfleet admiralty. They had built sophisticated listening posts to spot globflies crossing the Neutral Zone. But they had neglected to put inexpensive sensor pickets behind the big ears to watch for just such an incursion, their mistake. Once this operation was completed, no doubt the Federation would correct their far-sightedness. Though not before losing an invaluable battlecruiser.


"We will give them one hour to become complacent. Begin the countdown."


Scene: Outpost 8 Transporter Room


Outpost 8's commander, Lieutenant Yarith, initially felt relief as the landing party coalesced in the transporter room of Outpost 8. She was an attractive brunette, all business, and not in any mood for nonsense. That was why halfway up the steps to greet her guests she did a double take when she realized that the blue shirt on the right was wearing a stylized cowboy hat. It looked to her as if it had been spirited straight out of the Ancient American West. It also completely surprised her that the man patted his chest, hips and thighs in what could only be described as a gesture of relief before stepping down from the platform.


"Uh" she hesitated, "Welcome to Outpost 8 Commander Merrick."


"Cavalry's here L.T." Merrick said with a sly smile to Corbett. "How can we be of service?"



"Ah ha," Yarith laughed dryly. "Don't leave orbit please, sir? I know ..." she caught herself. "Damn it. I knew people at Outpost 5 and certainly don't want to end up like they did." She swallowed hard. "What did you find there?"


"You don't want to be concerning yourself about that just now ma'am," Corbett said, briefly removing his hat in the presence of a lady. "The details can wait a lifetime. Trust me."


Yarith looked at him askance, not sure what to make of this anachronistically chivalrous character. "Um, we're the same rank Lieutenant. You may as well call me Yarith."


"Please, call me Stile ... or Doc if you prefer," he said putting on his most winning smile.


Yarith looked as if she would decline to bother with either for the time being. Merrick stepped in to finish the introductions.


"This is Lieutenant DeSimms. He's our resident ass-kicker. If you care for a hand in security upgrades and a crack planner for ground combat, he'll provide. Given what has been going on, do you have the remote site fully provisioned?"


"Are you kidding, sir? Most of my crew are sleeping there."


DeSimms chimed in. "Nice in theory, but not a good practice actually. Who knows what kind of intel the attackers have."


"What do you suggest?" She asked.


"Equipment depots, weapons stashes, and survival packs in deep cave sites throughout the mountains, the further from the outpost the better. If you get hit hard, you'll need to survive until help arrives and maybe even fight back."


Yarith looked at Merrick. "Why the hell doesn't doctrine provide for this stuff?"


"Yeah, well, having been an outpost commander myself, I'd like to see those books updated too. Merrick said. “DeSimms, you thought about submitting your name to the Bureau to help with a rewrite? Surely a 'Medal of Honor recipient' would carry some weight in the application process."


"Even with the extra help, they don't update it much," DeSimms said. "Mostly because there are so many holes in the doctrine that it would be a full time job patching it up."


“I need the help now,” Yarith said her voice strained and anxious. “So can either of you tell me why the Star Fleet manual doesn’t provide for this kind of scenario.”


Merrick signaled for DeSimms to go start working his magic. Turning back to Yarith, he was more than a little disturbed by her demeanor. He needed to snap her out of this indecisive and dangerous mood in a hurry. "The Star Fleet manual is only a guide, not a how-to book. You're the one in command. We'll give you what you need to survive in case of an attack, but keeping your people alive falls to you."


"That's not very comforting." Yarith said.


"Command never is." Merrick replied.


DeSimms nodded in agreement as he turned to begin a survey of his surroundings. For something that was on the edge of the Federation, on what could easily be the front lines of a war, this base was terrible, he thought to himself. Weapons lockers with no doors on them, bridge controls without security locks, no shielding whatsoever on the communications array, and no planet-side surface-to-space defense systems. It looked to be a very bleak situation if the Klingons decided to attack. However, it was possible to defend it with careful planning and a whole hell of a lot of luck.


"You got anyone in charge of security around here, Lieutenant? I'm going to need to do a bit of work," he asked looking at Yarith.


"I’m sorry, but this base doesn’t have a security officer, just a tactical one." She answered.


There was a collective sigh, and DeSimms looked like he was ready to strangle someone when he realized that the fate of the outpost was dependent almost entirely on the equipment and expertise provided by the HOOD.


"How are your people set for emergency medical supplies?" Corbett asked deflecting the conversation away from security issues.


"I'll have to refer that question to our Corpsmen, Petty Officer Rasden." She answered. "Since we have a lot of logistics and security issues to work out for this place's continued survival, I'll have the appropriate people from my team assemble in our conference room in ten minutes."


“With all due respect, Miss Yarith, but this base is not the most secure, and we don't have much time. We are going to have a lot of preparations on our hands, and I don't want to waste any more time." DeSimms said then looking at Commander Merrick asked, "Permission to beam up to the ship sir! I got to get a hell of a lot of equipment down here.”


“Let’s wait till after the briefing Commander.” Merrick said softly. “There may be equipment stored we don’t know about.”


Scene: Outpost 8 Conference Room


Ten minutes later, DeSimms was back and taking charge of the impromptu conference. Immediately he began outlining the value of the move to the caves just west of the outpost. "As you can see these caves here, overlook this valley." He said gesturing to the map on the view screen in the conference room. "This location should give you a strategic advantage to fire portable phaser cannons and sonic grenades at any attackers. History has shown us that well entrenched defenders can hold off a larger advancing force. From this vantage I see no reason you can't survive until help arrives."


"You know," Corbett whispered to Merrick. "If he wasn't bald he'd be perfect as the poster child for a Star Fleet recruitment pinup."


"Pay attention." Merrick admonished trying to hide his smile at Corbett's remark. "He's good in a fight."


"Let's just hope these people don't have to put his plan into action." Corbett said pushing his hat to the back of his head.


"I agree." Merrick said.


As if he had heard the whispered exchange, DeSimms pointed to Corbett. "Doctor, we're going to need you to set up a triage facility in the cave system. It is deep enough underground that you should be safe from the Klingon ship's attack, but still within the Hoods transporter range. I know a cave may not be the ideal place for a hospital, but it's the safest place out there.”


“I am at your service sar.” Caorbett said to DeSimms as he gave a wink to Yarith.


It took another fifteen minutes to complete the briefing from both a medical and operations stand point. Then, for the next half hour, the landing party helped oversee the beam out of emergency supplies, weapons and personnel to the caves. It went so lightening fast that Merrick wondered if they hadn't set some sort of record. With her people busy at the remote sites, only Yarith and her XO remained to walk the guests back to the transporter room.


"Thank you all" Yarith said. "I feel we're better prepared to defend ourselves already, but I'd feel even safer if you'd remain..."


Merrick heard the shrill beep from his communicator. "Merrick here." He said interrupting the Lieutenant.


"Sean," came Captain Jack Steele's voice. "Rhiana just got a ping from a sensor bounce."


"You think it's a ship sir?"


"She's not sure. She said it was visible for only a moment, so it could just as easily be some sort of artifact. However, given recent events I'm not taking any chances. I'm ordering you and the landing party back to the ship."


"Aye sir, Merrick out."


"I sorry Lieutenant, but you heard the man, it's time we leave. I suggest you and your XO join the rest of your crew and hunker down in the caves for the time being. At least until we track down who's been attacking our outposts."

Submitted Respectfully as a Joint Post,
by

Brian Mansur
Commander Merrick
Executive Officer

Steve Apple
Lieutenant Commander Corbett
Chief Medical Officer

and

Daniel Belin
Lieutenant DeSimms
Security Officer
USS HOOD

USS HOOD: The Weight of Command

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2260.192

MD: 7.1800

Scene: Bridge

“Coffee sir?” Yeoman Greene asked with a bright smile as she held out the cup of coffee.

“Yes, thank you Yeoman.” Jack said not really paying attention as he read through the brief report Commander Merrick had filed after he, DeSimms and the doctor had returned to the ship. It was only a preliminary report that did little more then give a laundry list of supplies they had transferred to the outpost. There was also a short outline of recommendations they had passed along to help the outpost prepare itself for the possibility of attack. Jack looked forward to a more complete report from Merrick but for now this and the first officer’s assessment of Lieutenant Yarith as being ‘one tough broad’ sufficed. He placed the report down on the armrest and sipped his coffee wondering as he tasted the perfectly brewed drink where it had come from.

“Captain all departments report ready to break orbit.” The comm officer informed him.

“Thank you ensign. Alright Mr. Ventura you have your course?”

“Course laid in for Outpost Nine.” Chance answered with a nod to the navigator.

“Break orbit and get us underway. Warp factor seven.”

“Aye aye sir. Warp factor seven.”

As the drone of the engines began to increase Sean and Jack traded a look. This was what he was sure would prove to be the first of several bad decisions that had to be made during this mission. Bad because whichever way he went could be potentially disastrous. Outpost Eight had been the first stop simply because it was the next potential target in a fairly small chain. They assumed that the Klingons might hit here next solely due to its proximity to the last target but that just as easily might not be the case. Now that they were finished here the question became what was the next course of action. HOOD could linger in the vicinity in the hopes of catching the Klingons as they tried to attack the outpost. But what if they had decided to skip Eight and attack Outpost Nine?

Jack had decided that having done their best to shore up Eight’s limited defences they would move on to do the same with Nine and then Ten before looping back. It was the best decision with limited resources. He just hoped it wouldn’t be the worst.

Captain Sinclair had faced decisions like this before as had past captains he had served with. As he had moved up the ranks he had even participated in the discussions designed to help his CO make the call. This decision was no different then any of those dilemmas. Except for the first time his was the final say, he held the responsibility and people might live or die solely due to a course of action that only he could lay out. Looking down at his coffee cup Jack finally understood, really understood, the true weight of command.

<<<NRPG>>>

Just a short CD post I wrote waiting for Brian/Steve/Dan’s JP I have another one to follow that gets the mission really going.

And my weekly cheerleading pitch…still got some holes to fill so if any of you RP with a friend elsewhere who you think would be a good fit please let me know. The COMM slot is still open but if they aren’t interested in that I’m sure we can be creative.

Respectfully,

Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Fortune Favours the Bold

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2260.164

MD: 8.23:45

Scene: Captain’s Quarters, USS HOOD


[Red Alert! All hands to battle stations! Red Alert! All hands to battle stations! This is not a drill. Captain Steele please report to the bridge.]

Steele looked up from his book and jabbed the white comm button. "Bridge, report."

[Captain Outpost 8 is under attack.] Merrick replied.

"I'm on my way."

When Steele entered the bridge he found Sean standing next to the command chair talking with Outpost 8's commander who's calm visage was on the main viewscreen. She stopped mid sentence as she saw Jack step down towards the center of the bridge. “Report.”

“I’ve turned us back towards the planet, ETA 22 minutes. All stations reported ready for combat.” Merrick began as he turned back to face the outpost commander. “It looks like they were playing possum and we missed them. Sensors show a micro warp burst and they did a crash translation into normal space almost in the planets orbit. They started firing seconds later.]

"That was ballsy." Steele said as he dropped into his chair. That was an aggressive maneuver even for a Klingon and he didn’t like what it meant. “Have you tried hailing them?”

[Repeatedly captain.] Yarith replied mildly annoyed at the question. [No response. Wait one.] She looked to someone off the screen and nodded. [Damn. HOOD, sensors report they've beamed down two large landing parties. I don't think there here for a social call.]

Jack resisted the urge to rub his forehead. Destroying small asteroid outposts was bad but dropping troops on a major installation was an entirely different level. For all intents and purposes the Federation and Klingon Empire were not at war. Unless of course HOOD could stamp it out before it escalated further. "Commander can you patch us in to your sensors."

Again she looked off-screen. [Done.]

HOOD's viewscreen changed to an orbital view and the entire bridge watched in grim fascination as the Klingon cruiser hung above the ground installation reigning down disrupter fire. "Open channel."

"Channel open."

"This is Captain Jack Steele of the Federation Starship Hood to Klingon vessel. You will cease fire and drop your shields immediately. Further you will order your ground troops to lay down their weapons and remain in place. . Once HOOD makes orbit your vessel will be boarded and towed to the nearest Federation starbase. Failure to comply will be met with deadly force."

"No answer captain."

"How's the outpost holding up?"

"Their shields are still at 60%. According to the sensor feed from the outpost the ground troops are approximately two kilometers from the edge of the shield."

"Increase speed to maximum and get Yarith back on. Commander HOOD will make orbit in 20 minutes will your shields hold out that long?"

Yarith nodded. [Easily captain but it is the ground troops that have my attention. We're not equipped to hold them off and we’ve already evacuating my people into the caves.] As your people ‘suggested’ we do Yarith carefully did not say. But everyone heard it nonetheless.

"Understood. I imagine we can help with that. See you soon. HOOD out." Steele turned to Merrick. "When we make orbit we'll stun the assault troops with ship's phasers and then deal with the cruiser."

"I'm afraid that won't work captain." The science officer interjected as she looked up from her scanner. "I was curious as to why the Klingons beamed in so far from the outpost. When the base was built it was placed in a small valley surrounded by ring of small mountains and foot hills. The rock is sprinkled with a sensor absorbing material and it helps camouflage the outpost. At least that was the hope. Looks like the Klingons were aware of the setup. If they weren’t they certainly adapted to it quick enough. They’ve set up some sort of jamming system which interacts with the rock. They haven’t exactly blinded the sensors but they have given us blurry vision. Given the close proximity of the outpost and those already evacuating we won’t be able to target with 100% confidence.”

“We could stun them all and sort it all out later.” Sean suggested.

Jack shook his head. “We couldn’t be sure we got them all and I’d hate to stun some of our own while unstunned Klingons were close by. No, I think we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.”

"Captain! Klingon ship is breaking orbit and is warping out at high speed!”

“Well that ends the debate. He turned to the science officer. “Can we use transporters?”

“The jamming effect is fairly small. We also have access to the outpost’s transporter enhancers which should mitigate any dampening the Klingons are trying to use. If you want to get closer we could beam into the area just using sensor logs from our earlier orbit but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Jack turned back to Sean. “Get your teams and get down there as fast as you can.”

Sean leaned closer to Jack and spoke quietly. “Jack what are you going to do?”

“We’re going after the cruiser.” He said with determination.

Sean paused and then nodded. “Captain I concur with that course of action.” The safe play was to have HOOD remain in orbit to provide support. Once they had subdued the planetary assault they could worry about the cruiser. But in that time the Klingon ship could move on to another outpost or even to one of the not to distant colony worlds. They couldn’t let that happen. And given the stakes it was important that the Federation response was decisive and immediate.

“Give ‘em hell commander.”

“You too captain.”

As he watched the turbolift doors close behind Sean he felt a shiver run up his spine. It was playing out just as he, Sean and Admiral Palmer had discussed, but he had a bad feeling about this. Palmer had said AJAX and BRILLIANT were two or three days behind them. He hoped they’d get here sooner he had a feeling they’d be needed. Dropping into the center seat he watched as the bridge officers coordinated a dozen things at the same time all in preparation to drop a defence force and prepare to catch a Klingon battle cruiser. Pride swelled up in him and forced the chill out of his spine. This was a good ship and an outstanding crew. They’d get the job done.

But at what cost?

<<<NRPG>>>


I think I got all the LCDRs out for Yarith…being that Brian overruled me an all!  ;-)

So from here those on the surface…with a large NPC contingent… will be defending the base and rooting out the Klingons. HOOD will chase the Klingon cruiser and eventually catch up with her…and encounter a few surprises. I imagine there will be an emphasis on combat both hand to hand and ship to ship but I imagine we’ll see some creativity and twists to make this more then just a summer block buster J.


Respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: The Chase

by Dan Genaw

SD: 2260.164 MD: 9.00:10 Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD


<<SNIP from Fortune Favors the Bold>>

"Give them hell, Commander."

"You too, Captain."

<<SNIP>>


LCDR Van Hartinger could not afford to watch Commander Merrick leave the bridge, the Klingons were doing something to cover their trail and following with some delay was going to be problemsom.

"Sir," Van said, "If we're going to do this, we need to do it now. The Klingons are doing something to cover their trail and I'm having trouble following them."

Van's voice seemed to snap the Captain back into reality and he punched a button on his chair

[Captain to Transporter Room 2, let me know as soon as all the away teams have beamed down.]

[Yes, Sir. The last of them are beaming down now, they should be clear in just a few seconds.] A voice answered.

[Very well, thank you.] Captain Steele answered. Then he turned his attention to the helm, "Ensign, do you have the course?"

"Yes, Sir." Chance answered, "But it's only to a few lightyears away."

"It's the best I can do for now." Van answered, not even glancing up from his console. "I'll be able to pick up more when we get closer, but we need to go now."

Captain Steele studied his new Nav officer for a moment and had to wonder if putting him as department head for a CONSTELLATION class starship was a good move. Afterall, his last post was as a Chief Surgeon for four years.

"Study me later, Captain." came an impatient retort. "I'm going to lose them."

The Captain punched a button on his chair again, [Steele to Merrick, we're leaving orbit, be back to pick you up, later.]

[Good luck, Sir.] Came the response.

"Ensign," Captain Steele turned his attention back to the helm, "maximum warp."


NRPG: Sorry for the AWOL over the last week, my job came up as kind of a surprise. Anyways, sorry this doesn't give a lot of background for Van, but I'll work it in some of my posts. I'm also up for any JP anybody wants to do.


Respectfully, Dan Genaw LCDR Van Hartinger USS HOOD - NAV Officer

USS HOOD: Suckerpunch

by Scott Lusby

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Suckerpunch" Posted by: Scott Lusby (LCDR Gar Th'elenth)


SD: 2260.194 MD: 9.0013 Setting: Main Engineering, O-Deck, USS HOOD


Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth was ready.

He just hoped his engineers were as well.

They hadn't had much time to do many additional drills since the first fiasco that had his engineers running into DeSimms' security guys. They'd had enough time to iron out the rough spots, and he was well pleased with the progress...he just hoped it was enough.

He watched the alert status lights flash red on his consoles, and on the walls, and grit his teeth.

At that moment, the ship shuttered lightly.

"Forward shields grazed- no appreciable damage," called one of his men.

Gar simply nodded. He had the ship's status monitor displayed on one of the large screens in front of him, but he also had a repeater of a tactical screen on another of his large monitors. He saw the Klingon ship, its icon glowing the angry red of a hostile target, let loose a hail of disruptor fire, and saw the HOOD, with its own icon haloed in the soothing green of an undamaged ship, simply absorb the blows.

The ship had hardly shaken at all.

On the tactical screen, he saw HOOD fire back; at the same time, he noticed the ambient background noise of Main Engineering begin to grow louder, some of it from systems drawing more power from the warp cores, some of it from the din of combat.

The halo surrounding the Klingon ship on his tactical repeater turned yellow.

"The Klingon's shields have dropped to 43%!" another of his officers called.

"Forget the Klingon ship!" Gar shouted. "Keep an eye on your boards--"

At that moment, he watched a volley of torpedoes speed away from the Klingon ship and hit HOOD; the ship shuddered violently around him, knocking several of his men to the decks.

"That one packed a wallop- forward shields down to 73%; port phaser fire controls are not responding; #2, 3 and 5 dorsal-port shield generators have overloaded."

Th'elenth responded immediately. "OK- let's roll out the DamCon teams to port side, D-deck. Suits for everyone- I don't want anyone dying due to any sudden decompressions."

Gar knew his DamCon teams should already BE in their suits, but he felt better reminding them.

Gar could hear still more power being bled away from the warp core, its rhythmic pulse picking up its pace as a man's heart would during a long-distance run. He imagined HOOD returning fire, bringing a massive phaser and photon volley against their foes, first knocking their tortured shields into submission with the shape-charged antimatter missiles, and then raking the Klingon's hull with blue-white filaments of phased energy, punching holes in its skin where no holes should be, destroying their means to bring destruction upon HOOD.

Then, far quicker than Gar had anticipated (starship combat always WAS quicker than most people imagine), the HOOD shuddered no more; its warp core still hummed, but its rhythm slowed some.

Gar looked at his tactical repeater. The enemy ship was moving away from HOOD quickly, surrounded by the crimson halo of a heavily-damaged ship, HOOD pursuing and gaining.

And then, suddenly, his tactical repeater changed.

"Uh-oh," Gar muttered.

"It's not over yet! He shouted as two more blips, both colored red by the ship's tactical computer, appeared from seemingly nowhere.

The HOOD shook violently again.


<<NRPG>>

All- Just giving a little combat perspective from somewhere in the middle of the ship.

Remember: Gar's in Engineering, and so he's not watching the battle as it unfolds like the bridge people would be. So there's plenty of room to fill in with some fancy flying, all sorts of bridge excitement, etc.

I hope that's around what we were thinking, Andy. ;)

I imagine Gar will get quite a bit busier in the next few minutes or so...

)


Respectfully Submitted,

-- Scott Lusby /\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth Chief Engineer USS HOOD NCC-1703 ASR: ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Entrenchment

by Scott Lusby

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Entrenchment" Posted by: Scott Lusby (Crewman Dale "Dead Meat" Thompson, Security)


SD: 2260.194 MD: 9.0017 Setting: Caves on outskirts of Outpost 8, Planetside


Crewman Recruit Dale Thompson crouched in hastily-dug earthworks, phaser rifle in hand, and wondered- not for the first time- what the hell he was doing here.

Thompson, whose friends called him "Dead Meat" because of his hunting prowess (anything coming into his shooting range was simply "dead meat"), was barely 18 years old. He had enlisted in Starfleet the day after his birthday, deciding to channel his excitement and wonderment of the stars into a career.

That was 10 weeks ago.

Thompson had been in boot camp when HOOD had been at Monil IV; he knew only of Captain Sinclair by word-of-mouth, and had, thus far, never fired his phaser in anger against another sentient being. Oh sure, he'd fired against SIMULATED targets, and was one of the few Security people who had consistently distinguished himself in the joint drills aboard HOOD over the last week. But the phasers were neutered, and the enemies only friends in disguise.

This was not the same thing- not NEARLY the same thing.

The Klingons were out there- somewhere. They had a pretty good idea where, too, although the deposits in the hills and surrounding mountains made it a little difficult to get a firm count of numbers.

But they were coming.

Dale rested the rifle on the edge of the trench, and squinted through its eyepiece. There was movement out there, behind the brush and rocks and boulders...

His brow furrowed; Klingons were supposed to be much more direct than this; they didn't sneak and hide and bob and weave. It was almost Romulan in nature--

And then he saw it- a figure, clearly Klingon, standing upright from behind a large rock. He was gensturing...

Thompson took careful aim; the minute they opened fire, he would return it in kind...

It was only then that he heard the whine overhead, descending as the photon grenade got closer.

Dale "Dead Meat" Thompson had only a split second, upon that recognition, that the Klingon behind the rock hadn't gestured at all, but instead was throwing a grenade.

Had he had time, he MIGHT have thought his nickname somewhat ironic, given its origin.

He did not have time to consider that, however. All he had time to consider was that, as the grenade touched the ground less than 3 meters from him, he had no where to hide.


<<NRPG>>

All- just kicking off the ground war on the planet. Pardon the ridiculous name- that's for all you "Hot Shots!" fans. ;)

Seriously, however, I just wanted to show that sometimes in combat, no matter how good you are or how prepared you may be, it just doesn't matter.


Respectfully Submitted,

-- Scott Lusby /\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth Chief Engineer

AND

/\ Crewman Dale Thompson Security

USS HOOD NCC-1703 ASR: ORIGINS


USS HOOD: Round One

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2260.194

MD: 10.0020

Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD


Well at least we don’t have to worry about when the trap will be sprung anymore. Jack thought as the elation of the first battle drifted away as the red of the two new icons silently burned on the tactical display. The only good news was the two new ships were light cruisers. With the damage they inflicted on the heavy they might actually have a chance to get through this.

“They’re trying to flank us sir.” Ventura said as he took a moment to consult his board. “Bogey one is turning around.”

Of course he was. This was the first typical Klingon thing he had done. All this skulking around didn’t make sense. Yes the first cruiser had taken a beaten but not enough to cause him to retreat, if anything the pounding should have made him more aggressive. Steele sprang from his seat and moved to stand beside the navigation console. “Implement Pike Three and then come to course three-one-eight mark two.” Jack jabbed at his comm button. “Engineering prepare to divert emergency power to forward shields at Lieutenant Commander Hartinger’s command.”

“Pike Three, aye.” The helmsman answered quickly.

“Ok Mr. Hartinger make the shot count.”

Van’s finger hovered over the fire key just as the palm of his other hand readied to reinforce the shields.

“Increasing speed, coming to new course…..Now!” Chance exclaimed.

“Diverting power to shields.” On the view screen space seemed to cart wheel around and then suddenly they were head to head with the one of the cruisers. “Firing!” The ship shook as both the phasers and torpedo banks energized.

“Right full rudder!” Jack ordered holding on to the console as the ship’s dampeners tried to keep ahead of the violent maneuvers the helmsman executed as he dodged the feeble return fire the Klingon ship volleyed.

“Massive damage to the cruisers forward shields, forward weapons are offline and sensors are picking up internal explosions.” The science officer reported. “She’s coming around to pursue but she doesn’t have the speed to catch us. The other two cruisers are pursuing but we caught them off guard.”

Jack nodded. “Good work everyone. I’d say round one went to HOOD.” He returned to his chair and hit his comm button again. “Gar how much longer for those port shields? We need to come about and attack immediately and I need those shields.”


Respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Careful or You Can Lose an Eye

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2260.198

MD: 10.0100

Scene: Planetside

Commander Chang of the Klingon Defense Force crept along the narrow ravine and did his best to portray the outward appearance of calm and cunning that a leader of Klingons should always bare. But inside he seethed with rage and the damp and muddy terrain only added fuel to that fire. What was the term the Terrans used? Clusterluck? Something like that. Certainly it described this disaster perfectly. He halted as he came into sight contact with the scout ahead who immediately gave him the down hand signal. Ensuring his warriors received the signal he lowered himself deeper into the cold muck careful to keep his disrupter above it.

This was not what a Klingon warrior was about. War with the Federation was not necessary at this point, especially with the Romulan’s breathing down their necks. The Federation might have strong warships and large fleets but they had no backbone. As long as the cowards were left alone they were harmeless, they had no belly for a fight. Not unless they were given a reason, and then they fought with a guile and ruthlessness which he well understood. He had no doubt that a war between the KDF and Starfleet would end in a Klingon victory but all that would be left of the Empire would be a hollow shell which Romulous would eagerly crush under their boot. It was the Romulans that they should be attacking but instead they had set their sights on the Federation. He had heard that some of the Klingon Houses were even now making backroom deals with the Romulan nobility to assure their neutrality. As if a Romulan could ever be trusted!

But with the decision made, still the High Council dithered around like a pack of old women unable to decide on when would be the right time to invade. As if there was ever a time. Perhaps all this contact with Romulans was making them weak. Destroying outposts was of no value and trying to catch one of their new battlecruisers was little better. As if Starfleet would let one of their prized jewels fall in to enemy hands. There were seven colonized and industrially important star systems less then five days journey from the border. By now they could have captured all of them and placed such a large garrison on each that the Federation could never have removed them. That should have been the opening move to this dishounourable ‘war’.

His senses drew him back to scout crouched down 10 meters away. Something was coming but the scout seemed oblivious. Just as started to warn him he simply collapsed. And then the cliff above him exploded into a wall of shrapnel. His last thought before pain and shock hustled him into the darkness took him was the realization that something had pierced his eye.

<<<NRPG>>>


Hi all…I know it’s the summer but all you need is a couple of paragraphs.


I hope Commander Chang gets some medical attention or he’ll never make general…


Respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Eye Patch

by Steve Apple

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Eye Patch


SD: 2260.198

MD: 10.0100

Scene: Planet side


[Snip from Andy’s Careful or You Can Lose an Eye]

His senses drew him back to the scout crouched down 10 meters away. Something was coming but the scout seemed oblivious. Just as started to warn him he simply collapsed. And then the cliff above him exploded into a wall of shrapnel. His last thought before pain and shock hustled him into the darkness took him was the realization that something had pierced his eye.

[End Snip]

Kerath hated being a healer it was such an inglorious profession, but he knew that the Gods had fated with him such. As a warrior he wasn’t much good to anyone, not with this prosthetic leg. He had been forced to take this position by his Grandfather, the leader of his house, so he still might have the chance at a warrior’s death and the glory of Stovokor.

Hobbling out of the makeshift aid station he met the two warriors who dragged the body of Commander Chang. They saw him make his way toward them and dropped the body to the ground. “He was caught in a landslide when the top of the mountain was sheared.” One of the warriors said. Kerath could hear the contempt in the voice that addressed him.

“Rejoin your squad, I’ll take it from here.” He said not bothering to notice the look of disdain he received from them.

Kerath ran the hand scanner over his Commander and friend. Chang was a true warrior, a Klingon who knew the value of honor. He never looked down on Kerath, or showed him pity because of the injury. No Chang made sure that he always was in the thick of battle and that he always had the opportunity to die as a warrior. Kerath would make certain that his friend not share a similar fate and have every opportunity at attaining Stovokor.

“Wake up you great lumbering Targ.” Kareth shouted into his patient’s ear as he shook him.

Chang felt the searing pain in his eye and was vaguely aware of being shaken. “BIjatlh 'e' yImev” He shouted pushing at Kareth’s hand.

“Jup you have been injured.” Kerath whispered. “Your soldiers are watching. Take this and grip it tight.” He said handing the Commander his d'k tahg.

“I don’t need to grip it; I am focused against the pain. Do what you need to old friend.” Chang said.

“It’s not for the pain. I need you to grip it tightly and focus all of your energy on that grip so you don’t pass out. Your left eye is not salvageable; I need to cut the optic nerve and retinal vessels. I know you can withstand the pain, I’m just not sure your body can withstand the shock.” Kerath said.

Gripping the d'k tahg tightly Chang took in a deep breath and said “I am ready.”

Kerath took the exoscalpel and sliced through the destroyed eye quickly. Immediately he filled the wound with dermalyte to cauterize the vessels and seal the socket, hoping to prevent infection. “I’ll give you an old fashioned eye patch for now. When we get back to the ship I’ll bolt a permanent one in place.”

“QA TLHO my old friend.” Chang said as he tried to bring himself into a sitting position.

Kerath could feel the pain in his prosthetic leg from being in a stooped position too long. “This will aid in your recovery and let you get back in command.” He said opening his med-kit.

“I cannot let you give me a stimulant; they will know what you did when they inventory your drugs back on the ship.” Chang said.

“I’m giving you an antibiotic.” Kerath said as he drew up the drug and a secondary stimulant as well. It would be unfortunate that his med-kit was destroyed during this campaign.

After his friend injected him, Chang could feel the strength come back into his limbs. He knew he was not in top fighting shape, but his warriors would not.

Standing Kerath addressed the warriors who had watched the removal of their leader’s eye. “May you all endure pain as stoically as your Commander.” Turning back to Chang he gripped his d'k tahg tightly and slapped it against his heart. “GhIj qet jaghmeyjaj.”


<<NRPG>>

For those whose Klingon might be a bit rusty

Stovokor - Klingon heaven
Targ - Klingon boar
BIjatlh 'e' yImev - Shut up
Jup - My friend
d'k tahg - Traditional warriors knife
QA TLHO - I thank you
ghIj qet jaghmeyjaj - May your enemies run from you with fear


Respectfully Submitted


LT Commander Kerath

As played by


Steve Apple

Stile Corbett, MD

CMO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Dropping Anvils

by Steve Apple and Brian V. Mansur

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Dropping Anvils

SD: 2260.202 MD: 10.0100

Scene: Planet Surface, Vicinity Outpost 8

Merrick squinted hard against the mid-day glare that his landing party had beamed into. Grimly, he stood at the mouth of a dust clogged ravine. The HOOD had torpedoed it just moments before while warping out after some more battlecruisers. Judging by the unworldly shrieks behind the dust shroud, there were badly injured survivors within the rubble.

Merrick frowned.

Scratch that assessment. There was an erie quality to the screams. His frown quickly turned into one of deep consteration. The survivors didn't sound hurt. They sounded really ... REALLY ... pissed. Presently he ducked as a green blaster bolt whizzed high. The Klingons were chewing up the rocks blocking their way. He realized that fire control must have really been screwed up by the Klingons' sensor jamming. That glancing blow had just made them mad.

"Commander Merrick!" a familiar female voice came from behind. He turned to see Lieutenant Yarith hustling from a nearby cave. At least his team had beamed down in the right spot.

"Thanks for coming back sir," Yarith breathed. "They were right on us and we didn't even know it." She held up a tricorder for show. "These things are useless now. Whatever is in these rocks has them gummed."

Merrick gestured to the ravine crawling full of Klingons. "Seems they were able to find you without any problem."

Yarith was stunned. "Holy hell. They can pinpoint us then!" She looked skyward in alarm.

"They've been chased off for now. Maybe their scanners can spot us and maybe they just got lucky. But they know where we are now. How many are in the cave?"

"Just a few of us with a supply stash. The next bunch is over there." She pointed to another side of the mountain's base.

"We'd better try to hold them here then." He pointed to some armoured red shirts beside him. "Get a phaser cannon up there behind cover. Common lieutenant, let's get inside."


Scene: Supply Cache Cave

Merrick stood with Yarith at the mouth of the cave and could see the Klingon squad make its way toward them.

"They know we're here." Yarith said looking at Merick, slight panic in her voice.

"Lieutenant, Klingons may be brutal, but they aren't stupid." Merrick said annoyed at her panic. "Alert the phaser cannon crew and have them get a lock on that squad."

"Yes sir." She snapped and then asked. "What about you?"

"As I just pointed out, Klingons aren't stupid. That squad is too visible, which means they are probably a decoy. I'm going to scale around to the back of this cliff's ridge and see what they are really up to."

"Sir do you think..."

"You have your orders Lieutenant." He said interrupting her.

"Yes sir." She said as she watched him leave the cave's mouth.

Merrick used the jagged rock formations along the cliff's ridge as cover, he knew something about this Klingon assault didn't feel quite right. He stopped for a moment and listened. He could have sworn he heard the sound of small pebbles falling.

A disrupter beam nearly took his ear off. Spinning away from the beam he aimed his phaser at the spot he thought it most likely came from. Rocks came tumbling toward him as did a Klingon Warrior whose purchase he had destroyed.

Merrick scrambled from his own rocky outcropping to where the Klingon had fallen. He approached the warrior cautiously, phaser leveled at the man's chest. "Great now I have to deal with a prisoner." He said to himself.

The loud beeps from his communicator distracted him for a moment. It was long enough for the Klingon to make his move. Merrick saw the movement, but it was too late as the Klingon hurled the small jagged rock. Pain erupted from his hand causing him to drop his phaser, which bounced down the cliff's side.

The Klingon immediately grabbed for his d'k tahg and launched himself at Merrick. Forgetting about the pain in his hand Merrick brought his right knee up and into the Klingon.

They both heard the whine of the phaser a second before they felt the cliff side give way. Merrick jumped for the narrow opening he saw on the plateau six feet below. The dust was thick in the air causing him to cough and choke. The Klingon took out what appeared to Merrick to be a glow stick and threw it to the ground, illuminating the cave. Both circled each other warily as the dust in the cave settled.

"It looks like the cave entrance has collapsed." Merrick said to the Klingon. "We can try and dig ourselves out by working together, or use up the rest of the air we have left killing each other. Personally I'd like nothing better than to rip your heart out, but then I'd die soon after from suffocation and I find that kind of death empty and useless."

"You humans are walking self-contradictions. You go about the universe as if knowledge and self-improvement mattered. Yet you believe all your efforts will come to nothing. Why do you delude yourselves into thinking anything you do has meaning unless its significance can be felt across the breadth of eternity?"

"It means something to me you bastard."

"For the few minutes that you have left to live. And after that?"

"I'll deal with that when I'm dead."

"Do not shame yourself with a coward's reply," the Klingon rebuked. "An honorable fighter either comes to terms with Truth or he is smashed by the reality of it."

"You sound like a goddamn preacher."

"I like to enlighten those whom I am about to send into the afterlife. The way you fight, you may find yourself in Stovokor."

"Stovo huh? What's that?"

"It is where the honored warriors go to fight forever. Endless battle. Endless glory."

"That supposed to be a Klingon's idea of heaven?"

"If you prefer the term."

"Sounds like hell to me, but whatever makes you happy."

"Now now Commander. Do not lie to yourself. You too would prefer such a life: to never grow weary of building glorious empires and halls full of honors forever."

"I could think of nothing more pointless," Merrick sneered.

"Oblivion is utterly pointless," the Klingon countered. "Of course no sane sentient being wishes to suffer unceasingly either. But tell me truthfully which is better: to be happy and fulfilled forever or to be nothing forever?"

"You talk a lot for a Klingon."

"We can return to fighting till your death any time you choose," he deadpanned.

"Let's keep talking."

"Good. You did not answer my question. Would you not prefer living happy and fulfilled for always?"

"I believe that existing eternally and being happy are mutually exclusive," Merrick said.

"Are they? Even if they are, what sense is it to believe that? Nothingness gets you nothing. If that is the reality we face then we may as well kill each other now and be done with it for all the difference it will make in the end."

"That's a selfish thought."

"I'll ask you if you care once you're dead."

Merrick felt unsettled by the point, but said nothing.

"I sense that you have not always abandoned yourself to the mere pretention of having a purpose."

"I think maybe I prefer fighting after all."

"You used to believe in something didn't you," he observed. "Why did you give that up? Why did you give into the absurdity of your non-belief?"

"You self-righteous ass."

"You weakling coward. You sit here facing your death. The universe gives you a warrior philosopher to help you sort through your final moments and you still refuse to deal with what really matters. Why bother fighting? Is it just because your genes compel you? Because if they didn't make you fight they would already have died out? Is that all you are? A self-perpetuating meme whose sole purpose is to exist?"

"Let's just say I'm in no mood to die today."

"So that is all you are then. A shifting mood. Choosing to fabricate meaning because it suits how you feel. How very disappointing. I had hoped there'd be more to you than that."

"Isn't that your line of reasoning? Believing in your Stovo whatsits because you don't like the alternative?"

"Are you not paying attention? Your alternative ... oblivion ... is inherently not worth discussing even if it is true. If you disagree, I'll be happy to listen to you argue the point after we're both cold rotting corpses."

And in a silent blinding rush, the Klingon was suddenly across the room ramming Merrick straight into the cave wall. Merrick didn't know what had hit him. Least of all did he comprehend how the amrour encumbered Klingon had moved so fast. All he knew was that his whole body suddenly ached and he tasted blood in his mouth.

But that was all. He was still alive and the Klingon was gone. And as he came to his senses, he heard a voice.

"Commander Merrick?!" Yarith sounded worried, but controlled for a change.

It took his eyes a few moments to focus. Where in the hell am I, he thought as the lights made him squint. "The Klingon Lieutenant, the one I was fighting where did he go?"

"The Klingon sir, I don't understand. We found you alone in that cave, unconscious." Yarith said.

"Cerebral anoxia." Corbett said.

"What?" Both Yarith and Merrick said in unison.

"In laymen's terms the good Commander had a lack of oxygen to his brain, which caused a hallucination and quite a doosey it seems." Corbett answered.


NRPG: From Brian - Thanks a million to Steve for contributing to this post. He really made it work.


Respectfully Submitted Jointly,


Steve Apple

Dr. Stile Corbett

CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS


and


Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Step Up

by Brian V. Mansur

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Step Up

SD 2260.205 MD 10.0030


Scene: Bridge, IKS BLOOD OATH

Koreth shifted in his command chair, wincing at the reports. Two line battlecruisers had suffered serious damage. Another was now being pursued hotly by the HOOD. And from all indications, the HOOD had taken only light damage.

Koreth slammed his fist onto his arm rest. Well, *that* had certainly determined how well the Federation had upgraded their starship designs. It was time to end this phase the operation.

"Helm!" he barked. "Take us out! Intercept the Federation ship."



Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD

"Um, captain," Navigator Hartinger began, "I think we're about to get our asses kicked."

Steele was about to ask what the commander was talking about when he glanced at the Nav's tri-d scope and instantly did a double take. A ship larger than any Steele had seen was barreling after them.

Steele wasted no time. "Hemux. Analysis now." A few twists of nobs and thumping of buttons later and the Science Office told them everything they didn't want to hear.

"An unknown class of Klingon starship. Reading multiple heavy weapons sir." Hemux as serenely as she could manage under the circumstances. No one bothered to mention that the enemy was gaining fast. After the latest engagement, the engines were doing their best to make Warp 7 after the battlecruiser ahead.

Which was now turning to face them. They were caught in a pincer.

"Aw crap," Steele said.


NRPG: Dan B/Steve, I know this was meant to be a JP, but given the posting frequency these last few weeks, I made the command decision to put out this postlet that you or anyone else could build off of. If you have something you want me to add to, just pass it over. The Klingons are coming guys! Dave, Dan G, you still there? Bring out the Brown Pants!


Respectfully Submitted,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Why It Sucks to Be a Redshirt Lesson 1

by Steve Apple and Brian V. Mansur

SD 2260.205

MD 10.0030


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Why It Sucks to Be a Redshirt Lesson 1



Scene: Security Holding Cell, IKS BLOOD OATH


Commodore Koreth relaxed on the unpadded durasteel slab protruding from the holding cell's wall. He watched as two of his warriors rolled in a high backed chair and portable computer console. The chair featured clamps to hold arms and feet in place. At the top of the chair lay a metallic band with needles and electrodes.


An old Klingon nodded to the Commodore as he entered the room. “My Lord.”


Koreth looked his chief healer over. How such an old man managed to keep all the warriors on this ship battle ready was a mystery to him. Koreth trusted the old man more than anyone else alive. And that was saying something since Klingons generally hated the sight of healers. No warrior ever wanted to admit to weakness. Koreth smiled as he remembered being a boy on his Father’s cruiser and meeting the healer, who was old even then, for the first time.


“Why aren’t you dead?” Koreth asked.


The ancient Klingon wheezed a laugh and started to check the chair's equipment. "Because I promised your Father I’d watch over you. Now go do something heroically fatal so I can die already.”


Koreth chuckled, but quickly sobered. “I must say that I am not completely satisfied with this plan, qan loD,” he said eyeing the machine. “Something about this seems dishonorable.”


The wise old healer stopped his work and regarded his friend. “Honor is for warriors, not the likes of these. We do what is necessary.”


Koreth mulled that over and found he had to agree with his mentor's reasoning. “Bring in the leader!” Koreth shouted into the hallway.


Presently, two warriors dragged in a struggling young man. The blond haired, green eyed human male wore a red Star Fleet tunic with lieutenant’s stripes.


“Strap him down.” The healer said grimly as he lifted the metal band from the top of the chair.


“Your mothers will boil in your piss and roast in your crap once you all go to hell!" the redshirt cursed. "You murderous sons of bitches let me go for just five seconds and I'll rip your nuts off and shove them up your asses!


The entertained warriors looked as if they wanted to take the colorful man up on his challenge, but lashed him into the seat as they were told.


The healer ignored this bold ranting and grabbed the red shirt's hair, yanking his head down. “Hold him in this position for a moment!” he barked to the closest warrior. With the man’s skull in a headlock, the healer opened the metal band. Carefully, he positioned the 2 inch long needles over the man’s cerebellum.


The terrified young lieutenant screamed in gasping horror and jerking agony as the healer shoved the band into place, then clasped it shut.


“This device,” the healer said as he snapped the redshirted man’s head back. “Is called the mind-sifter. Or mind-ripper depending on how much force is used. With it we can record every thought, every scrap of knowledge in your brain. Of course, when we use that much force, the mind is emptied... permanently, I'm afraid.”


The human went a shade whiter. “For god's sake," he pleaded. "I was just an junior operations officer at the outpost. What do you think I could possibly know that you don't already?”


“I don’t care what you know.” The healer said impassionately. “I’m only interested in emptying your mind so I can refill it with want I want you to know."



Scene: Command Room, IKS BLOOD OATH


Koreth flipped on the view screen in his command room and was momentarily taken aback by the team that stood ready on the transporter platform. The redshirted Earthers were perfect pawns. They might succeed where all other contingencies had failed. They were human and had once been Star Fleet and so should have no problem with the onboard intruder alert system of the Earth ship. Their reprogrammed brains should hold up long enough to render terrible havoc aboard the HOOD.


“My Lord!” They shouted in unison as they laid their right fists on their hearts in an almost perfectly choreographed movement.


Koreth appraised the team warily. “Stand ready my warriors.” He said to them and then saluted back. “Your honors are double this day. You will be the first warriors to test our new boarding transporter. On my signal you will be beamed aboard the Earth vessel while its shields are still up. Your mission will be to destroy their shielding array and take over their weapons control."


“For the Glory of the Empire!” They shouted.


“May your enemies run from you in fear.” Koreth said then turned his viewer off and exited his command room. "Prepare for battle!" He shouted to his bridge crew.


<NRPG>> Looks like security is going to have their hands full. Also Brian did an awesome job of making this post come alive



Respectfully Submitted Jointly,


Steve Apple,

Stile Corbett, MD

CMO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS


Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: [ORIGINS]USS HOOD: Payback

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2260.210

MD: 10.0130

Scene: Outskirts of Outpost complex


Lieutenant Yarith took two deep breaths and then held them counted to three and then spun around the rock. Three quick taps of her phaser rifle and three Klingon warriors were removed from her base. She quickly scanned the area to make sure it was secured before briefly turning back to look at the dead Klingons. She regarded them as if they were insects she had just stepped on. She'd never killed anyone before. She'd always hoped that she would never have to. At least never in so personal away. If anything she'd always assume that any combat she'd be involved in would be sitting behind a console on a ship. But after watching two of her people, two of her friends, beheaded after they tried to surrender she had no problem killing these vermin.

Climbing to her feet she gave the area another quick scan before waving the three HOOD crewman DeSimms had assigned her forward. One of the them, she thought his name was Robson, looked as if he was going to say something but thought better of it. He was probably going to remind her that the HOOD security officer had 'suggested' weapons should be set on heavy stun. The hope was that this incident could be contained. Incident she snorted with disgust. This was a plain old fashioned mugging. The Klingons thought they'd just walk over the base but they were finding out Starfleet wasn't as soft as their leaders told them. She planning on making sure every Klingon she found got that message clearly. "Alright people this section is clear. If we head north we should be able to reconnect with the main HOOD contingent. Keep your eyes open. I've got point."

As the small group moved out the three red shirts traded looks. They were more then happy to give the Klingons some payback. But Yarith had clearly lost it and they didn't want her thirst for vengeance to walk them in to an ambush. Robson as the senior of the three decided it was best he spoke up. "Sire, might I make a suggestion sir?"

"Of course Mr. Robson." Yarith answered as he continued to scan the way ahead.

"Well sir if we divert east for 1/2 a click we can swing back north but we'll have the cove of those trees sir. It'll take a little longer to get where we're going."

"But we'll get there alive." She finished.

"Yes sir." Robson answered, clearly relived.

"Makes sense to me." She looked back at the three HOOD security officers. "Don't worry I haven't lost it. We'll get back to your Lieutenant DeSimms."

Brian and any abord ship. Interested in setting up a few posts with shipbaord stuff...I'd rather not do a big JP...still trying to keep to the ORIGNS short and frquent posts in the hopes of generating some volume and some new recruits ;-). We can work something up 'behind the scenes' if you like and then fire off some posts. Let me know. And of course I'm open for similar posts for planetside as well.


Respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Over Our Heads?

by Scott Lusby

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Over Our Heads?" Posted by: Scott Lusby (LCDR Gar Th'elenth)

SD: 2260.211 MD: 10.0039 Setting: Main Engineering, O-Deck, USS HOOD


Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth lifted himself off the deck after a second round of disruptor fire battered the HOOD's shields. Despite the battering, he WAS grateful about one thing: one way or another, he knew the battle would be over shortly- either they would be victorious and they'd spend the next few days lickign their wounds, or they'd loose, and their deaths would be, in all likelihood, be quick.

As an officer who'd been around the block a few times, Gar understood something most civilians and new officers alike didn't: starship combat was, almost without exception, inherently short. If one side overwhelmed the other, either the overmatched side withdrew from combat before it got bad or they got destroyed. Sometimes a more even fight would drag out for a few minutes before some peace was negotiated or someone withdrew. But battles lasting for more than a ten minutes or so were rare indeed- some other variable needed to be introduced in order for battles to last longer than that.

The reasoning was simple: the weapons systems were "ahead" of the defensive systems in the technology curve at this current point in history. The focused and shaped antimatter charges of the modern photon torpedo were more than a starship's shields could handle when massed in a sufficient quantity. The new point defense systems was a help...but given enough incoming targets to parry, event he best systems could be overwhelmed. And once the shields were down...well, that usually spelled the end.

From what Gar had seen on the tactical repeater, this was NOT an even fight.

Under normal circumstances, they'd simply make a "strategic advance to the rear," as one of Andoria's more colorful generals from history once said. However, there WAS a "variable" that changed everything.

The landing party and the personnel of Outpost 8.

That made Gar's job- and, more to the point, the job of his department- much more diffiult, as he would have to try to hold HODO together despite being outgunned until they could get back to Outpost 8.

The shields would be everything, he knew; they were the weak link. Given enough time, he knew HOOD's enhanced phasers and deadlier torpedoes could poke holes in the battlecruiser AND the battleship out there.

Given enough time...which meant keeping the shields up.

"I want a damage-control team standing by at each generator," Gar shouted. "The shields MUST stay up!"

At that moment, the ship rocked again, tossing him to the deck again.

However, someting was wrong, Gar knew- he was tossed a lot harder than he should have been.

Immediately, he got up, and instinctively checked the shield status indicators. Oddly, they showed damage, but they had not collapsed, which is what he assuemd when he hit the deck as hard as he did- usually that was a tell-tale sign of a generator going.

However, the flashing red light on his status board offered an explanation- and a potentially more deadly problem.

The inertial dampeners.

These devices were the real key to starship travel: without them, the sudden and extreme accelerations, decelerations and high speeds would squash most living beings into something resembling a gooey paste. Destroyed inertial dampeners essentially froze a starship in place until they were fixed.

Apparently, disruptor fire- probably massed from both Klingon opponents- briefly overwhelemd their forward shield generators and didn't dissipate all of the incoming fire efficiently, allowing some to bleed through. And it struck their dampening systems. Torpedo fire- especially massed fire, if it got passed the point defense- would have collapsed the entire forward shield system- had to be the disruptors...

"Get a team to G-deck, immediately- we have a short in the primary inertial dampening system!" Gar shouted.

Suddenly, violently, he hit the deck again, and watched the shield status cions flash yellow on his board.

    • Maybe this will be a quick one after all,** the Andorian thought as he pushed

his bruised body up off the deck one more time.


<<TIMELINE:>>

MD 10.0039: Gar contemplates the nature of starship combat and directs his repair teams during the Klingon onslaught.


<<NRPG:>>

All- Sorry for the continued delays. However, I am here and alice and back to normal contact levels. :)

Let me second Andy's comments: we need to post, guys. Some of you are posting regularly...and some aren't without being pinged. Time to jump in head-first, everyone, and just write. Something. ANYTHING. If you don't know what to do plot-wise, then do some CD instead. Or drop Andy/Brian/me a line. We can help. But please, everyone...POST. This ORIGINS thing we're doing will not survive if we don't stay ACTIVE.

You do not need to post a whole novel- a few paragraphs is perfectly acceptable, as long as you write often. Posting frequent short posts, like every week or two, is the best way to stay with the plot, the action of the story. Going longer between posts almost always results in the loss of the plot's direction.

Now...we have a battle in space...a battle on the Outpost...there's plenty to do. What about a bridge view of the combat- Dan G., Eric, how about it? Eric, you were looking for something to do other than ComicCon... As for the planet, Dan B., thats eems tailor-made for you.

Let's do this and kick some butt!


Respectfully Submitted,

-- Scott Lusby

/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth

Chief Engineer

USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR: ORIGINS

USS HOOD: Why It Sucks to Be a Redshirt Lesson 2

by Brian V. Mansur

[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Why It Sucks to Be a Redshirt Lesson 2

SD: 2260.211 MD: 10.0040


Scene: Bridge, IKS BLOOD OATH

Koreth wanted to spit in disgust. The Federation battlecruiser was still pumping out an impressive rate of fire, wearing down the Klingon D7. The HOOD's captain evidently wanted to take *someone* with him if he was to lose this fight. Koreth studied the tactical screen. Holes in the starship's shields were forming intermittantly.

"Standby on transporters," he ordered. "Energize when ready."


Scene: Deck J, Near Forward Fire Control, USS HOOD.

Crewman Yuri snapped his head around and drew his phaser pitol at the sound of what could only have been a transporter beam. Staring anxiously down the cooridor, he cursed the curving bulkheads which must have put the beam-in just out of his line of sight. Fumbling, he flipped open his communicator.

"Security, its Yuri. Possible boarders Deck J, intersect to cooridors 9 and 15."

[Roger that Yuri. Hold tight. Sending support.]

Yuri sighed. Thank heavens he didn't have to go and look. He was just starting to ease off his adrenaline rush a bit when he saw the shadows of several advancing figures. So much for waiting for back up. Well, he'd always wanted to be a hero as a kid. Now was his chance. He went for the inner wall and crouched low. The trigger on his pistol eased back and then ....

"Whoa there hot shot!" the man in the lead said. "We're on your side."

Yuri almost peed his pants. It was the redshirts to the rescue.

"You sure got here fast," Yuri gasped. "I could have sworn there was a beam-in just where you guys walked in from."

"Yeah well, you're just jumpy," the security officer with lieutant stripes said. "Don't worry about it." Then the ship lurched again and he looked about. "We got enough to worry about as it is."

With the emotional seasaw Yuri was on, he figured the LT was right. Something though picked at the back of his mind.

"Hey, um, sorry but I don't think we've met sir." He eyed the two other security guards. And then stark terror hit him anew. They hadn't met!

"Yep. Too bad we won't have time to get to know each other. Been nice knowing you though." And Yuri went up in a blaze of incadescent carbon atoms and steam. The lead redshirt shook his head regretfully and whistled up the corridor. Several Klingons promptly appeared from around the bend.

"Fire control should be just up that way on these ships," the lieutenant said pointing.


NRPG: Scott, that's two redshirts I've killed off now. How many are you up to? No fair if you're counting the Connie!


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

USS HOOD: We Need an Edge.

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2260.212 MD: 10.0045 Setting: Bridge, USS HOOD


Jack held the sides of his command chair tightly as HOOD rocked violently from the sustained Klingon fire. The elation that had swept the bridge as they had taken the second weakened cruiser out of the fight had vanished the second its drifting image was replaced with the hungry predator the Klingons had obviously held back. The dreadnaught outmassed and outgunned HOOD and everyone on the bridge new it. Jack had no doubt that HOOD had both the technical and proficiency edge but he didn’t know if it would be enough given the damage they had already taken. The Klingons were masters at attack. But most of their doctrine centered around a brute force approach. They drove in hard and kept attacking until victorious or dead. Klingons rarely withdrew and other then maneuvers resembling a pack mentality their tactics were non existent. Having said that there were dozens of races that could attest to the fact that the brute force approach, when conducted effectively, was all too often overwhelming.


As he ran through his options he realized he had little room to maneuver. The safe move would be to withdraw. There were two destroyers on the way and HOOD could keep her distance long enough to wait for them. Once on the scene the three ships could pick the dreadnaught apart like hyenas attacking a lion. He grimaced at the image. But the easy approach would leave the Outpost and all the HOOD and Starfleet personnel he had left behind there unprotected. And of course turning from the fight would be received by the Klingon Empire as a clear indication of Starfleet’s weakness both physically and morally. He could not let that happen. Command had been clear on that HOOD was expendable so long as she inflicted a savage toll on her attacks. Savage enough that they’d think twice about taking on Starfleet and the other 11 CONSITUTION class vessels.


Unfortunately at the moment Steele had no idea how he was going to accomplish that goal let alone survice to fight another day.


“Captain.” Lieutenant Hemux looked up from his scanner. “I’ve been analyzing the Klingon’s attack pattern and I think it highly likely that they mean to disable rather then destroy us. The targets have been predominantly areas of the ship that will hamper our mobility.”


Jack’s eyebrows shot up. What had been telling himself about the Klingon’s lack of creativity and finesse? It made sense. If this was an assault designed to test Starfleet’s newest warship class why not go for the brass ring and try to capture her? They’d be able to dissect her at their leisure and once complete would be able to walk across the Federation. For the first time in his career he really understood the need for a self destruct device just as he knew he would have no hesitation ordering its use.


“Helm lets get some distance.” He ordered just as the intruder alarm began to signal.


“Klingon’s aboard roughly three dozen spread across multiple decks. Security responding.” The comm officer reported.


“Commander Hartinger for now we’re going to have to stick with strafing attacks. Target their engines. Helm as soon as you get the signal from Engineering that all shields are back up take us in. Lieutentant Hemux, scan the outlying systems and find me an edge.”


<<<NRPG>>>


Just a quick one to keep the ball rolling.


David: A nice nebula, asteroid field, any sort of spatial anomaly that can even us up with the Klingons would be really helpful right now! ;-)


Respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

ASR: ORIGINS